The PLAIN CASE STATED Of Old— but especially of New-England, in an Address to His HIGHNESS THE PRINCE OF ORANGE.  

HAil noble Prince, in whom our Joy and Love  
Unite, and( as to their own Center) move.  
In whom those Royal Qualities combine  
Which may erect a Second Constantine.  
Among the Songs which Britain's joyful dayes  
To You present, accept New-England's Praise:  
We also boast ourselves of English Race:  
And from our Ancestors, who stock't this place,  
The name of stricter Protestants derive,  
And in Your faith and favour hope to live.   

We heard,( and it to us did Sorrow bring)  
The much-lamented death of the late King;.  
And, with but too much Truth, did calculate  
From thence of all our woes, the wretched Date  
Then James, with Papal Benediction  
And Popish principles assumed the Throne:  
A Prince whom Nobler virtues ne're did yield  
Fitter, the Sceptre of the World to wield:  
But to what Ills can Popery persuade!  
And to what Ruin do its Maxims led!  
And what a Hackney is a Bigot made!  
Under his umbrage did the Birds of Night  
Sing their damm'd notes, and sang them with delight;  
And Locusts of the Pit, graced with his Smile,  
In swarms invaded our( once happy) Isle.   

heroic El'sabeth for us, in vain,  
baffled the fraud of Rome and pride of Spain.  
Whilst Jesuited James did readvance  
The twisted policies of Rome and France.   

A Nuncio from the old Rogue of Rome  
Must with Applause to England's Palace come,  
A Nuncio, which a Century or more  
Of reformed England never saw before;  
And we, in grateful sort, must sand again  
On humble Embassy good Castlemain,  
And, by a Proxy kiss his Worship's to,  
Whence unknown streams of unknown Blessings flow.   

From Innocent our plotted Ruin came,  
Guilty in Fact, tho Innocent in Name.  
From France's Don, whose Papal-Romish trade  
Of Blood and Ruin has such havoc made,  
That his one Persecution has done more  
Than the ten under pagan-Rome before.  
From Jesuits a brood, hatch't by the Devil,  
To be the Propagators of all evil,  
Incarnate Fiends, to Lucifer allied,  
And heirs to all his cruelty and pride:  
From these, our James, devoted to the Cause  
His Measures took, their Counsels were his Laws:   

Our Sanguinary Laws, tho' few yet good,  
And justly merited by men of Blood,  
And those with milder penalties enforced.  
Were with a Prorogation indors't.  
Those Laws, which Parliaments had made to live,  
Were laid in dust by Grand Prerogative;  
And Tests were useless grown, Dispensing Power  
disarmed their Force, that they could strike no more.  
Popery bare-fac't stalk't our injured streets,  
Justled the Reformation where it meets,  
And Cells of Mass under our noses grew,  
And daring Priests did eagerly pursue  
Their Patron's Orders with unbounded joy,  
Or to deceive us Her'ticks, or destroy.  
Dissenting Protestants they striven to please  
And wheadle, by a short delusive ease.  
Th' established Church trampled, against all Law,  
And, Jehu— like, driven where they could not draw.  
Whilst Renegado-Papists were preferred,  
And had their King's peculiar Regard.  
The Snare was laid, the pointed hour drew nigh,  
Wherein our Name and Cause was doomed to die.  
Great were his hopes( who, when the stroke was given  
claimed for Reward a double share of Heaven)  
To sacrifice in one brave funeral Pile,  
The numerous heretics of either Isle.   

Nor could the Vastness of this damned design  
The Limits of his Popish Rage confine,  
But o'er the Ocean to this world it flew;  
reformed America must suffer too.  
That we were must'red in this bloody Roll  
Our sufferings tell( who then could us cajole?)  
We, by Papistick wil●ss, may well believe  
Were marked a lingering Ruin to receive.  
They grug'd that we should harmlessly possess  
With Ease and Freedom this our Wilderness.  
Which our religious Ancestors( who sought  
God in a desert country) dearly bought.  
Our Charter, which freely we had enjoyed  
In three successive Reigns, is first made voided;  
condemned for forged Crimes we never knew.  
Nor at this distance could er'e answer to.  
condemned unheard; their fraud would not admit  
A clear Defence and Legal; nor was't fit  
In a Court where Astraea nere' did sit.  
And thence were we annexed t' a Popish Crown,  
By which we were designed to be undone.   

Then came a man to be our President,  
As well against the Law as our Content:  
But he, Alas, did only smooth the way  
For a Superior Lord, who made no stay.   

Soon came the Jersy Knight, crafty and Stout,  
And for his Master's Interest cut out.  
Soon did he and his Creatures let us know  
Whence all our miseries were like to grow.  
Knaves, Beggars, Papists formed the triple League  
Which carried on the ruinous intrigue.  
We were not treated by th' insulting Knaves  
As free-born English, but as poor French Slaves.  
Taxes were raised, without Mercy, or Measure,  
To keep us low, and fill our Tyrant's Treasure.  
To MAGNA CHARTA we coul'd claim no Right,  
Neither our own, nor English Laws would fit,  
But such as by Distortion, and Abuse,  
Would still advance the Plot to ruin us.  
New Laws by a small shabby Juncto framed,  
And then so surreptitiously proclaimed,  
As if they choose( Oh when were Laws so made!)  
They rather should be broken than obeyed:  
So, if we kept or broken them, 'twas by chance;  
They made advantage of our Ignorance:  
strained their own Laws beyond their true Intent,  
To our great Cost, Sorrow and wonderment.   

All that we counted dear was made a prise  
To th' raging Lust and hungry Avarice  
Of a few tattered Rascals from New-York,  
More insolent than ever was Grand Turk.  
Their debauched tricks the harmless country saw,  
But vainly sought a just redress by Law.  
The Law, which even our smallest Trips could find  
distinguished Friends, and in their Cause was blind.  
Their Lust on Honour strange Excursions made:  
Their Avarice did our Estates invade.  
Our Lands, for which we to the Natives gave  
Their own Demands these new-come Beggars crave,  
Our Lands, which we had peaceably possess't  
For Sixty years, they with strange flaws molest.  
It would disturb our Father's peaceful Graves,  
Saw they their poor Posterity made slaves,  
Or knew our Lives or Liberties betrayed,  
Or knew our Lands to foreign Foes conveyed.  
Yet thus with grief might poor New-England cry,  
We our own Lands with our own coin must buy;  
And Patents take, or else some sordid Knave  
Soon intercepts, and nee●● but ask and have.   

The Secretaries House of Office  told  
( And Courts of Justice) where our Rights were sold,  
New Tricks they found, and Fetches with rare skill,  
To bring more Grist to their insatiate Mill.  
Money we paid, for what we could not know,  
Except to Feed their ever-craving maw,  
But never full, for fill we might, as well,  
As soon the gaping mouths of Death& Hell.  
Law at a price, and Justice we must buy,  
Each small Court-Officer gapes for his Fee,  
Else Law would be denied, and Right delayed,  
Whatever Madam MAGNA CHARTA said,  
Our Penal Acts their scores& hundreds slay,  
Through cursed aid of an informing Crew.  
These in our hated Courts did boldly tread,  
Villains, who daily damned themselves for bread:  
Rogues, who for money( I in plainness think)  
Would swear the Sun a bottle full of Ink.  
These, Juries must implicitly believe,  
And by their Testimonies Verdicts give,  
The Sense of Thinking-men they must forego,  
And, as the Court directs them, blindly do,  
Else they're turned back, and for their honest Strife  
Must forfeit the Conveniences of Life.  
Juries were packed out of their own vile lump  
To serve a Turn, and turn them up a Trump,  
Men of small Sense, and smaller Honesty,  
Their knotty roguish Causes to untie.  
From Freedom of Discourse our Tongues were mor'd,  
For we were made Offenders for a word.  
When, Mighty Prince, we of Your Landing heard,  
Tho Hopes& Wishes were on Tip-toes reared  
Yet we our Hopes could whispering only tell;  
And bold was he who dared to wish You well:  
Him shall I style true Ben, who hither came,  
To save his Life& an untainted famed;  
Harris was he, whom Parliaments had known  
T' have been by Popish rage& frauds undone,  
Yet here he could not scape the Lion's Paw,  
Only for wishing well to WILLIAM o' Nassau.   

Our last great Grievance, which we could not bear  
( With Grief we tell, and Oh, with Pity hear!)  
Was a perplex't mysterious Indian-War,  
For which with mighty Forces we prepare.  
We, who a Hundred, in the dayes of yore  
Could beat a Thousand Indians and fight more,  
An Army now a thousand strong must sand,  
With a poor Handful Hundred to contend;  
In horrid Woods where no Provision grew,  
Sneaking moneths after moneths to ly perdieu.  
Our Officers were Popish men of blood,  
Whose Principles could nere consult our Good.  
Our Scatt'ring-Foes but seldom came in sight,  
Or if they had, we had no power to fight;  
No War was ere proclaimed; what could we do?  
We dare not kill, the Law would then pursue.  
Mean time a tedious Winter past our head,  
Our sufferings such, we envied even our dead.  
And they not few by sore Diseases went.  
Hunger and could, and how could this content?   

And thus things stood, and thus the Plot went on,  
From earth to root our Her'tick Nation  
Here, and in our beloved Native Isle;  
Till Heaven on us cast a propitious smile;  
Piti'd our wrongs and on their Counsels frowned,  
And raised a man their Empire to confounded.  
'twas YOU, Great Sir, whom heaven did elevate  
To make more famous this our Eighty Eight  
Than that wherein brave El'sabeth did quell  
The jointed powers of Spain& Rome& Hell.  
YOU, us with gallant Forces did Invade,  
( By long successses formidable made)  
Our wishes joined and met our hearts half way,  
Whilst Terror seized our popish foes that day.  
One bloodless month our happy Nation freed  
From popish Plots, by which we feared to bleed;  
Pounded a crew of mercenary Knaves.  
Jesuits& Priests, tools used to make us Slaves.  
Frighted our stubborn King, who would not part  
From his dear Bantling, nor his Bigot-heart.  
convened our Countrey's Representative,  
By whose sage Counsels we now hope to live.   

This hearing, by Your great Example swayed,  
A just Attempt oppressed New-England made,  
Not to revenge our wrongs but set us free  
From arbitrary Power and Slavery:  
This did heaven bless, and on our Action smile,  
befooled our foes, and brought them to the toil.   

Sir, Your Protection we hope and crave;  
Condemn not the Success Your Courage gave.  
For this our Songs shall Your brave Triumphs meet,  
Laying our Lives and forunes at Your Feet:  
For this Your Name will consecrated be  
In English Hearts to late Posterity.  
May still Success Your great achievements crown!  
Go on to Conquer, as You have begun.    

BOSTON, Printed for and Sold by Benjamin Harris at the London Coffee-house.