An ACCOUNT of an APPARITION That appeared to TITUS OATS.  

SOme night late passed, as I (accursed) lay,  
Tumbling and Tossing, wishing long for day;  
Just fallen into a Sleep, I did Espy  
(Methought) some frightful Things approaching nigh  
My trembling Bed: Those who at first appeared,  
Were naked Men with Crimson Blood besmeer'd,  
Dragging their Bowels trailing at their Heel,  
Their Breasts ripped open, wanted Hearts to feel:  
They gently came, and drew near to my Bed,  
Showed what, and who they were but nothing said;  
At which I then (though ne'er before) turned red:  
In every Gesture you might plainly find,  
A Soul composed, and a well ordered mind,  
They knew me not, their Thoughts did soar more high,  
Their Eyes and Thoughts were fixed above the Sky:  
But with true Consort each did Sing this Song,  
O Lord most Holy, Lord most Just, how long?  
Just following them, came Two so closely joined  
As Matrimonial Bands had e'er designed;  
For Man and Wife, (Perhaps they so might be,)  
The one dressed Manlike, t'other contrary;  
The Robes he wore were of a Scarlet dye,  
Of Aspect Reverend, full of Gravity:  
In whose right Hand fast held (me thought) I saw  
A Book, Entitled, Govern by the Law.  
Her Dress as Vestal Nuns are made to wear,  
From Head to Foot, did purely White appear;  
Whose Eyes were Covered with the Finest Lawn;  
In her right Hand a Naked Sword was drawn,  
Pointed towards me, at which I trembled more,  
Then at the Bleeding sight I named before.  
As if she knew me, she did boldly come,  
Enquired for Conscience, I replied, from home;  
Quoth she, How long? I said, I could not tell,  
She very seldom used with Me to dwell.  
Then with a Bold (I thought commanding) word  
To th' Scarlet Gown cries, Judgement give my Lord.  
He seemed reserved, and would but little say,  
Yet shook his Head, Looked Stearn, and went away,  
With threatening Signs of a severer day.  
At which I waked from that most dismal Dream.  
And thus I writ upon the Tragyck Theme.  
Alas those inward Pangs I hourly feel,  
Are now grown greater than I can reveal,  
None e'er more sensibly than I, could tell,  
How like a wounded Conscience is to Hell:  
My crying Crimes, like Vipers daily tear  
My Bleeding entrails, and I'm all despair:  
The Fate of Judas was more mild than mine,  
He showed Repentance of his Treacherous Crime:  
Favour was granted to that Cursed Elf,  
And strength of Mind enough to hang Himself.  
But I more miserable far than He  
Who dare not do what none will do for me,  
Ungrateful Catch where's thy Civility!  
You know that lately, might I had my Will,  
And Cornishes and Bethels Sheriffs still,  
I would have sworn whilst Death had Power to Kill,  
And was in all Superlatively ill.  
For I, more fierce than all the Devils, hurled,  
And strove to turn to Chaos all the World:  
For which I'm Plagued, and Burn with more than fire,  
By the strict Vengeance of th' Almighty's Ire.  
To Heaven I dare not look, that Glorious Throne  
Did evermore my Hateful Crimes disown.  
Th' Infernal Spirits seem to dread me too,  
Or envy that my Crimes did Theirs outdo.  
Proscribed by all, Where Wretched shall I fly?  
To hid my Gild from GOD's All-searching Eye.  
— But hold, have I not read  
Pythagoras' Faith, and what th' Egyptians said  
Of Transmigration of the Souls of Men,  
Into some Birds or Beasts, alas! What then?  
Where may I search? for either Beast or Fowl  
Deserves the Plague of such a Loaded Soul?  
What Land e'er so accursed as to produce  
So foul a Creature, to so foul a Use,  
Unless perhaps on that Unhallowed Ground  
Where my Learned Tutor died, such may be found.  
If that proves true, than Titus thou art blest,  
And in that hope, accursed Oats take Rest.   By ANTHONY HARRIS.  

Printed by Nat. Thompson at the Entrance into the Old Spring-Garden, near Charing-Cross. 1684.