THE Mad-men's Hospital: Or, A present Remedy to Cure The Presbyterian Itch.  
A POEM.  

1.  
OH, Happy soil! unhappily possessed,  
Your Natives now, invade your sacred Peace;  
And that Religion we all professed,  
Must now by Extirpation surcease:  
Our Laws are broken, Birthright's ta'en away;  
banished or murdered, Innocents betray.   

2.  
This Hell-bred change, hath Reformation brought,  
By bold Interpretation of Text:  
What was believed, and our Forefathers taught,  
By new Dark-Lanthorn-Lights is now perplexed:  
New Government's set up, the Rabble see  
A way to Rule the Church, and Monarchy.   

3.  
Oh, triple damned! Rebels to God and King!  
Who first put Arms into the Roundheads hands,  
Taught them to know their Brutish strength; who bring  
A right of leveling to all mens Lands:  
Like Hounds unhunted, left to their own Chase,  
Seize all that across their way, Noble or Base.   

4.  
They love the King, as schoolboys Masters love,  
Let them do what they will; how good a man,  
Correct them, he's a Tyrant, none above  
Them, they admit, then govern them that can:  
Break up the School, a Commonwealth their cries,  
Learning hath fooled the World, and taught us Lies.   

5.  
Thus is this wilful and presuming Age,  
Where Reason's blinded with Opinion,  
For current Truth, upheld by th' Peoples Rage,  
They spurn at Truth, and true Religion:  
Those Beast-like Rights, which greater Beasts persuade,  
Are the false optics of their cheating Trade.   

6.  
Poor Countrymen! the whole Worlds hate or scorn,  
lead by a creeping Will o'th' Wisp's false Fire;  
Like him to malice, and to mischiefs born,  
Leads you to perish in a poisoned mire:  
Pride made a Devil, what is't made thee so?  
Malice; so coupled, both together go.   

7.  
But tell me yet, Mad-men have Intervals,  
What end do you propose? suppose your Plot  
Should take effect, that Palaces, and Halls,  
The King, the Duke, Lords, Papists, and who not  
Should in one ruin fall; what will succeed?  
Cutting of Throats, make one another bleed.   

8.  
For Jesus Christ will not descend to Reign,  
You( in his Members) crucify him here;  
In time complete, when he will come again,  
'twill be to your Confusion and Fear:  
Order supports the World, nothing can stand  
Without it; Beasts have Order and Command.   

9.  
Those very Sects, who now together join,  
Will then divide, and each their Claim advance:  
This is the Truth I hold; that Lordship's mine;  
'tis false, 'tis not, 'tis for the K. of France:  
For when that one anothers blood we draw,  
'tis time a third should come, to give us Law.  
Y'are on a Precipic● and one step more,  
Y'are lost; Return, for judgement's at your door.   

10. Recipe.  
Take but one grain of Faith, from the Rock pure,  
And fix it fast to the right Anchor-stock,  
mixed with the oil of Charity; 'twill cure,  
applied to the Heart side; Probatum hoc:  
This never failed, lasts while the World endures,  
Close kept; and all Mankinds diseases cures.    

LONDON: Printed by N. T. 1681.