â—o now Invade and strive to have it given â—nto their hands that they may tread it down And impudently cry All is their own Grand Rebels what attempt the Right of God â—â— you not fear his dreadful Iron Rod Would you Dethrone him would your hellish spite â—â—â—rive both God and Man of their just Right This you design'd although in vain to do And Christ's blest Kingdom fain would overthrow One while they cry Conscience to them must beâ— Another time Christ's Right they did defend When it did seem to favour their design Conscience in all its rights they undermine But when they found 't would with their Interest staâ— And with th' Intrigues that they then had in hand They cry Nought's juster than that all men do To others as they would be done unto But to return nothing for many years Is seen but Persecution Bloud and Tears No Liberty at all Conscience must have But the Dissenters Prison proves his Grave Where hundreds of them lay long buried Whilst others of their Goods were plundered Many in filthy Jayls so long did lye That poysoned with the stench they there did dye Law and Religion both were trampled down And most good men term'd Enemies to the Crown Charters of Towns and Cities ta'ne away That Popery and Slavery might bear sway No Stone 〈…〉 unturn'd whereby they might Bring 〈◊〉 poor England an Eternal Night Of Popish darkness many therefore fled Whilst others were strangely dis-spirited Divers good Magistrates were laid aside And wicked men for Judges they provide Void of all fear of God who any thing Would give for Law they thought would please 〈◊〉 King Did a Dissenter Law or Justice crave He 's branded for a Rascal Rebel Slave Yet many men so strangely blinded were They could not see though things appear'd so clear Because that King a Protestant was thought Matters by him so cunningly were wrought And carried on but when he came to fall All things were plain and bare-fac't unto all For the next King his Visage did lay down And publickly himself a Papist own And I likewise more clearly did espy My dreadful danger then approaching nigh The Popish Plot under a Cloud was hid And a Sham Plot contrived in its stead Though own'd by three Successive Parliaments â—et all 's denied by Romish Innocents â—hose Jesuits who hang'd for Treason were Themselves free from all guilt or crime declare 〈◊〉 th' unborn Child nor is this strange since they 〈◊〉 Dispensation have That they may say Whatever will preserve their Cause from blame And Holy Church secure from her just shame 1685. Therefore is Dr. Oates brought on the Stage â—egraded and expos'd to brutish rage They on his Back their cruel strokes do lay Whereby their Hellish Plot they stifle may â—et let them whip and lash him till he die And practice all their Romish cruelty â—one of his Evidence he can deny 'T is to his Honour and Immortal praise And to his name it will high Trophies raise Those many hundred stripes laid on by Rome Are as so many Monuments become More great and lasting than a Marble Tomb. Poor Dangerfield couragious and bold Whom Rome's Incendiaries never could By horrid threats or subtle flattery Prevail upon to gainsay or deny What he of their Intrigues did testifie Unto a cruel whipping they him doom Which yet could not his Fortitude o'recome 'T would pierce ones Heart to think what miseries He suffered from his bloody Enemies And though perhaps not well prepar'd to die Yet he must fall by Romish Tyranny A Villain in the midst of all his pain Stabbing his tender Eye out with a Cane Which pierc't so deep he in great torments lay That never ceast till Death took him away The Fence b'ing thus thrown down the ravenous Beasts Rush in and of poor Innocents make Feasts Wild Boars and Bears yea Wolves and Tygers strive All to destroy and leave no Lambs alive Religion Laws though all good mens great care Yea and mens precious Lives they did not spare That England seem'd as if it were become A Scene of misery and a prey to Rome And what could Sion do Alas poor I Bewail'd my state but saw no comfort nigh Yea my poor Children about me hung B'ing hardly able to endure the wrong And sharp Assaults of those fierce Fiends of Hell Yet knew not how their malice to repel About this time i' th' West there did appear Some unto whom their Countrey was most dear Striving to free it but mistook the time And Person too who Landed then at Lyme A Man belov'd but not the Instrument God chosen had and now to us hath sent To save our Land and Sion from that blow Which would have been to both an overthrow 1685. But of my joys I must forbear to sing A doleful noise seems in my Ears to ring And still grows louder sure 't is from the West What 's that I see a cruel savage Beast A Man no sure a Monster though he came Of Humane Race he don't deserve that name A cursed Spirit of th' Infernal Legion A Lord Chief Justice of the Lower Region I cannot rest hot strugling rage aspires And fills my Free-born Soul with Noble Fires My Muse soars high and now she doth despise What e're below attempts to Tyrannize Ah! but again she faints how shall I tell What to those poor mistaken Souls befel The dismal news of Rapine Spoil and Blood Shed in those Parts which ran ev'n like a Flood Works strange Effects in my afflicted Soul For grief my Bowels do within me rowl In biting Satyr I could even contemn That Villanous Judge who Innocents did condemn Who on the Bench did nought but what he knew Would gratifie the bloody Popish Crew Though nature seems assistance to refuse Revenge and Anger both inspire my Muse. Shall the Wretch live why is he spar'd so long Justice seems to complain of having wrong Th' Infernai Daemons angry seem to say Dead or alive we him will fetch away And at his stay they all seem to repine That to their vengeance we don't him resign But Ah! his Blood can never recompence His ruining so many Innocents And it may seem the wonder of the time And some are apt to think may be a crime That we no more regard their memory Who for their Countries welfare dar'd to dye Poor Hearts who seeing we were drawing nigh To Vassalage and ROMISH Tyranny Resolv'd to save Religion and the Laws But mist and fell into this Tygers Claws Whose mind upon the prey was wholly bent Pitying none though ne're so Innocent bâ—â— like an hungry Wolf or furious Bear Without remorse the harmless Lambs did tear No time of preparation would he give To many nor Petitions would receive Nor would he hâ—aâ— their Wives and Childrens cry But scoâ—t and laught at them in â—isery And though they pity beg'd with sighs and groans He was relentless to their tears and moans Beg'd that distressed Widdows he 'l not make
The total of his days His All-seeing Eye Though his own could not saw that he should dye That very fatal hour yet saw his death Not so so necessary but his Breath Might have been spared to a longer date Had he imbraced this not taken that Had not a furious Judge condemned thee Void of all pity and humanity Thou might'st have liv'd and seen with joyful Eyes That done for which thou fell'st a Sacrifice Yet that God orders all things right w' are sure The Death of some may Life to more procure But here 's just cause of further Lamentation For one we scarce can equal in the Nation A worthy Preacher who could not comply With what his Conscience could not justifie But hark how th' Enemy doth scoff and jear That a Dissenter's taken in the snare A better Sacrifice there could not come To please the Canibals of Bloody Rome Who do believe there is no Dish so good As a John Baptist's Head serv'd up in Blood. But he 's a Rebel Ay! that that 's the cry Now as to that let 's weigh impartially His dying words now printed which relate He did believe Monmouth Legitimate Or Lawful Son of Charles or else that he Would ne're have acted in the least degree In that design and we may likewise find The rest in general were of that mind And though they were mistaken let 's take care Not to asperse what dying men declare But sober thoughts of them still to retain And not with Obloquy their Memory stain But lo a multitude of Sufferers more Whose Blood for vengeance cries stand at the door Open to them my Muse Ah! do but see What a great number of them still there be Now they are come 't is fit I first make room For the most gallant generous Battiscombe A worthy Person of a great Estate Although he was cut off by cruel Fate The wretched Judge allur'd him to accuse Some other Gentlemen which he did refuse VVith scorn for he abhorr'd his Life to buy By such base and unmanly treachery VVen he o' th' Ladder was he seemed to smile Saying He hoped in a little while He should enjoy a Crown and Diadem Of Glory in the New Jerusalem That from a Land of misery and woe To the Coelestial Paradice he should go Hamling fell too nor was his Innocence Before so vile a Judge the least defence Against the Crimes wherewith they charged him Though altogether free from any Crime VVho neither was in Arms nor did assist Any that were nor any who did List Themselves for Monmouth nay he did advise His Son not to ingage but to be wise And unto Gods dispose leave every thing VVho in due Season would Deliverance bring But he was a Dissenter and for this He must not live for he accused is By two such Rascals as did never care VVhether 't were truth or falshood they did Swear But with the Judges humour would comply And by such Evidence this man must die Next Mr. Brag a Man of good Descent And well known to be wholly innocent VVho though a Lawyer yet no Law could have VVhereby his Life from violence to save When Law and Justice both o're-ruled were And Judge and Jury too resolv'd to steer By the false Compass of the Princes will In vain was the most Learned Lawyers skill None were secure neither the weak nor strong Will was made Law whether 't were right or wrong The Land-mark was remov'd all Common laid And all our English Liberties betray'd But time will fail me therefore I 'll proceed And not forget Smith Rose and Joseph Speed And Evans too shall such a man as he Fall basely and not draw a tear from me Then Madder Kid young Jenkins too all bled Who for his Youth ought to be pitied With Doctor Temple Spark and Captain Lisle Kill'd in cold Blood their malice was so vile And many hundred others who there fell So barbarously there 's scarce a Parallel Of Stirs that were in any former Reign Where so much cruelty was and leaves a stain Upon that time will ne're be wip't away Until the World and all things else decay But notwithstanding so much Blood was shed Some hundreds of poor Souls were banished Bereaved of their VVives and Children dear And into Forreign Countreys driven were And there exposed to all misery And the severities of Slavery The Husband separated from the VVife Depriv'd of all the joys of humane Life Their Goods and their Estates all forfeited And nothing left wherewith to buy them Bread. But should I all their miseries recount They to a mighty number would amount Yet now Great Nassaw's setled on the Throne VVe do not doubt but he 'll regard their moan That on their sorrows he will cast his Eyes And of his Princely goodness ease their cries But stay my Muse for here 's more cause of grief And I have still more cause of Heav'ns relief For now alas two Martyrs I espy On whom were acted a sad Tragedy The one a Person of great worth and name A Citizen of London of much Fame VVho by Time serving wretches that would do VVhat e're might please the Factious Romish Crew VVas doom'd to death by villanous Evidence Though for himself he made a just defence Alderman Cornish was this worthy man That thus unjustly suffered Who now can Forbear to weep or can forbear to tell VVhat to a pious woman then befel Poor Mistress Gaunt most dear thou wast to me Few of thy Sex ever excelled thee â—â— Zeal in Knowledge or in Charity VVho wast condemn'd a cruel death to die Cause thou relievedst men in misery These two I must bewail who in one day By Romish Treachery were swept away 'Gainst whom these Miscreants malice did appear ' Though altogether innocent and clear As doubtless we shall find apparently VVhen their Case stated is impartially As to the woman 't will be shewed ere long That many ways she suffered much wrong VVho by a Jury at Hâ—â—ks-Hall was freed Yet at th' Old-Bailey 'gainst her they proceed A London Jury took her Life away VVhich they may answer for another day On the same day these worthy Christians fell Most of us may remember very well That Gods displeasure ere that day was done Seem'd very evident to every one That his works doth observe and mind his hand In his strange operations in the Land. O come ye Angels lend your glorious Stile Created Beings to lament a while Ye blessed Hosts that sing Jehovah's praise Assist my Muse in lamentable Phrase For now the City Streets ev'n run with Blood Of those Just men who only sought our good Ah! London let all future Ages see Thy grief that Cornish lost his Life in thee Could not their burning thee abate their rage Nor their inslaving thee their wrath asswage Could not Great Russel's death them mollifie Nor Essex's murder stop their cruelty VVould not th' inthralling of Great Brittain do Religion and Liberty to o'rethrow Hast thou not
Brat ' Into the world so horrible as that ' Since Rome Usurpt the Western Monarchy ' Which she still Rules with Fraud and Treachery ' In forging Plots imploying Hellish Actors ' Ah! let us treat 'um as the Devils Factors ' Distressed Sion O how few regard ' My sighs and tears their Hearts are grown so haâ—â— ' My restless Hurricanes with storms and wind ' No ease no peace no comfort can I find ' ' The horrid aspect of these Monsters do ' Affright my Children some they worry too ' Others they seize like greedy Beasts of prey ' And to their Den the Sacrifice convey ' Renowned GODFREY whose immortal Glory ' Martyr'd for me shall ever live in Story ' Let every Loyal Eye that reads it there ' Yield to his name the Tribute of a Tear. ' Brave Soul thy Love and Loyalty do claim ' That King and People should proclaim thy name ' As England's Victim ne're to be forgot ' Fastning on Rome an Everlasting blot ' The Great Jehovah who is only wise ' Permits thy fall as a sweet Sacrifice ' Thy barbarous Murder has made clearly out ' That Plot which none but Infidels now doubt ' Those bloody Varlets black Assassinates ' Curst Executioners of Rome's Debates ' Drunk with Infernal cruelty made thee 'A Specimen of England's Tragedy ' By thee we learn what curtesie to hope ' From Romish Butchers Vassals to the Pope ' Thou led'st the Van first fell'st into the Trap ' From whence they hope 't no Protestant should scape ' Poor Innocent trepann'd amongst them came ' Into their Nets like a poor harmless Lamb ' Whilst they like hungry Tygers ready stood 'T' imbrue their Tallons in thy guiltless Blood. ' Thou little dream'dst such an Infernal snare ' Had there been laid t' intrap thee unaware 'T is strange say some what reason should ingâ— ' Them to make thee the Object of their rage ' Some think 't was 'cause the Babylonish Whore ' Big with a Bastard long'd as heretofore ' For Christian Blood Her Favourites made haste ' In her great need to help her to a taste ' Of choicest Liquors thine she calls for first 'To cheer her sinking Heart and quench her Thir ' Fearing miscarriage when her Spirits faint ' She drinks the Hearts blood of some Martyr'd Sain ' Insatiate like the Horse-leech still she cries ' Give give me that there 's nought else will suffice ' My craving Paunch my pleasure must be done ' This Heretick was a Pragmatick one ' He knew my secret Clubs and would reveal ' My Tragick Plots we must prevent his Zeal ' Let 's strangle him before he does relate ' The Villanies we intend to perpetrate ' Ah brutish Whore of Canibals the worst ' For this curst draught be thou for ever curst ' In the most lasting Records let us see ' This horrid instance of thy cruelty ' This Loyal Knight ne're injur'd thee but stood ' Upright for Justice and his Countreys good ' Will nought but Blood of Protestants give ease ' Or quench thy thirst What mischievous Disease ' Infects thy Bowels Must your Churches food ' Be Flesh of Saints Your Mornings draught their Blood ' Fellonious Strumpet dar'st thou be so bold 'To steal by night into thy Neighbours Fold ' And seize my Lambs Thy Theft and Cruelty ' And all thy Murders shall revenged be ' But since he 's gone and Justice does pursue ' With eager steps the Assassinating Crew ' We 'l acquiesce for Heav'n now seems to call ' And bid tears cease at his sad Funeral ' Let Christians offer through the Universe ' Whole Hecatombs upon his bleeding Herse ' And could their tears increase into a Floud ' 'T were no excess so much I prize his Bloud THus thus did I in Eighty make sad moan For that brave Hero who was dead and gone But Oh my Heart A Cordial presently My Spirits faint Ah me Help Lord I die Unless I have relief I can't sustain My sinking Soul was ever any pain Or sorrow equal to what I now feel My burd'ned mind under her weight does reel Oh since that year what woes have I beheld How have my mournful Eyes with tears been fill'd I then did fear what since is come to pass As in that Treatise plainly hinted was Did Rachel mourn and all relief refuse How then can I forbear How can I chuse But weep and to lament for my sad Lot What Children have I lost who now are not Did I for one such Lamentation make My Bowels now may surely throb and ake When I recount how many since are gone Who murdered were by bloody Babylon 1681. Poor Colledge first before this Idol fell Betray'd to death by Evidence from Hell To drink his Blood there seem'd to be some strife Was twice Indicted they must have his Life Yet they could never shake his constancy Hear his great Soul sing his own Elegy A Poem written by Mr. Stephen Colledge a while before he was sent to Oxford where he Suffered Death Aug. 31. 1681. Wrongful Imprisonment Hurts not the Innocent WHat if I am into a Prison cast By Hellish Combinations am betray'd My Soul is free although my Body's fast Let them repent that have this evil laid And of Eternal vengeance be afraid Though Racks and Gibbets can my Body kill My God is with me and I fear no ill What boots the clamours of the giddy Throng What Antidote 's against a poysonous Breath What Fence is there against a Lying Tongue Sharpen'd by Hell to wound a man to Death Snakes Vipers Adders do lurk underneath Say what you will or never speak at all Our very Prayers such Wretches Treason call But Walls and Bars cannot a Prison make The Free-born Soul enjoys its Liberty These clods of Earth it may incaptivate Whilst Heavenly Minds are conversant on high Ranging the Fields of Blest Eternity So let this Bird sing sweetly in my Breast My Conscience clear a Rush for all the rest What I have done I did with good intent To serve my King my Countrey and the Laws Against the bloody Papists I was bent Cost what it will I 'le ne're repent my Cause Nor do I fear their Hell-devouring Jaws A Protestant I am and such I 'le dye Maugre all Deaths and Popish Cruelty But what need I these Protestations make Actions speak men far better than their words Whate're I suffer's for my Countrey 's sake Not 'cause I had a Gun or Horse or Sword Or that my Heart did Treason e're afford No 't is not me alone they do intend But thousands more to gain their cursed End. And sure of this the World 's so well aware That here 't is needless more for me to say I must conclude no time have I to spare My winged hours do fly too fast away My work Repentance must I not delay I 'le add my Prayers to God
for England's good And if he please will Seal them with my Blood. O Blessed God destroy this black design Of Popish Consults it's in thee we trust Our Eyes are on thee help O Lord in time Thou God of Truth most Merciful and Just Do thou defend us or we perish must Save England Lord from Popish Cruelty My Countrey bless Thy will be done on me Mans Life 's a Voyage through a Sea of tears If he would gain the Haven of his Rest His signs must fill the Sails whilst some Men Steers When Storms arise let each man do his best And cast the Anchor of his hopes opprest Till Time or Death shall bring us to that Shore Where Time nor Death shall never be no more Laus Deo. Amen From my Prison in the Tower August 15 1681. Stephen Colledge Great Essex Ah thy groans methinks I hear What ne're a Friend hadst thou not one Friend near Noâ—e none to help in vain it was to cry When there were none but Savage Monsters nigh Since thy great Soul could not inticed be Noâ— wouldst conceal their cursed cruelty They make a bloody Tragedy of thee Surpriz'd lest all should be discovered Unto this Dev'lish Policy they were led And to conceal their horrid Plot they try Those wicked Arts which do it justifie Confirming it to all Posterity Though thy Assassinates like men appear Their curst attempt shew'd least of man was there Incarnate Devils certainly they were Ah cruel Tyrants destitute of shame To murder both thy Body and thy Name Could not thy Blood their hellish thirst suffice But must thou die a double Sacrifice What! cut thy Throat with such barbarity And when thy Soveraign also was so nigh The Royal Prison though a Tower strong Was no defence nor refuge to thee long Thou careful wast how to preserve thy life And yet didst fall by a curst Romish Knife Thy Head almost cut off and yet they cry That thy own hands did act the Tragedy â—â—t now we hope it plainly will appear Who the vile Actors who the Murderers were May I not borrow now as many do Some proper lines made on an Essex too Shall such a Noble Peer fall thus by Rome And shall I not drop tears upon his Tomb Shall none who loved him move for a Vote Ye Lords and Commons ye are bound to do 't A Vote that all on that same day o' th' year On which he fell shall mourn or shed a tear Or else be judg'd a` Papist It were wise T' erect an Office in my Childrens Eyes For issuing forth a constant sum of tears There 's no way else to pay him his Arrears And when we 've drien'd this Ages Eyes quite dry Let him be wept the next in History 1683. Renowned Great Lord Russel next 〈◊〉 Is markt out for this direful Tragedy Scarce had I dry'd mine Eyes for loss of one But they another Hero fall upon A braver Lord scarce ever lost his Head Nay few like him hath England ever bred From a most Noble Stem he did Spring forth And had a Spirit â—uited to his Birth Had I not wept so many tears before For him whole Rivers from mine Eyes might pour Had I an Helicon in either Eye The thoughts of Russel soon may draw them dry Great Soul too great for our inferior praise You for your self the Noblest Trophies raise Your Love to Sion and your Native Land Shall mention'd be ev'n while the Earth doth stande My loss and England's too who shall repair Great God! his hardned Enemies do not spare 'T was by the Blood of these Great Men I see England was freed from Rome's curst Tyranny T' avoid the Odium of their cursed Plot Which notwithstanding ne're will be forgot Another was contriv'd wherewith they thought The innocent to insnare who should be brought Thereby to ruin and then hop'd to see Sion and her best Friends would ruin'd be This was the Second part of Rome's design To work the overthrow of me and mine And these two Champions standing in their way With bloudy hands they villanously slay The first inhumanely was Murdered The other they did publickly Behead They charged him indeed with odious Crimes And many others too in those black times Crimes he to th' last did utterly deny Whose Noble Soul their malice did defie But Villains swore and he alas must die O Heav'n and Earth be ye astonished How fain would they have struck off my poor Head Yet of my Blood that they themselves might clear Good Protestants the scandal on 't must bear 1683. Sydney dear Sydney treacherously fell Whom I esteem'd a Prince in Israel Those Laws that were intended for defence Were wrested so thou couldst not have from thence Any relief but thou must likewise dye Although on thee no guilt at all did lye Jury and Judge dealt so inhumanely What hadst thou done what cause of death in the For Sion 't was 't was for thy Love to me Thy Principles were such Hell could not bear The thoughts thereof though publisht they ne're we Thou wast too Just and hadst such piercing Eyes Those Hellish Statesmen doubted a surprize And therefore made thee a third Sacrifice 1684. By Popish Arts many more ruin'd were Poor Holloway likewise fell into the snare B'ing from th' Western World a Prisoner brought By those who fiercely his destruction sought Who at the place of Execution Delivered his Bible unto one Of his Relations wherein he had writ The following lines which I do here transmit ' Owner hereof prize this and bless the Lord ' That yet to England doth his Word afford ' Had I liv'd longer hopes I should have had 'T' have seen times mend but now expect them bad ' Truth will not do for much of it I wrote ' And for 't I die much rather than the Plot. ' Did you know all you 'd say I did my part 'To free you from designed Popish smart And now alas behold my dismal case Great Flouds of sorrow follow on apace Many Religious Pious Men of worth Are rendred vile not fit to live on Earth Observe Rome's policy who contriv'd it so That Protestants should Protestants undo Conscience must now be basely shackled Against its Light impos'd on and misled And truckle like a Slave unto all those Who did Christ's Regal power in man oppose Either their Consciences must wounded lye Under despair for their Apostacy Or if they were resolved and sincere They loss of Goods Contempt and Scorn must bear Be sent to noisom Jayls or to Exile Which many chose rather than to defile Their precious Souls and treacherously dis-own Or yield the power of Christs righteous Throne Up to Usurpers who audaciously Cry All is Caesar ' s due and so deny God over Conscience has the Soveraignty No wonder they Laws violently break down That all our Civil Rights are overthrown That our Just Properties they take away And our most Ancient Liberties betray Since they the Glorious Monarchy of Heav'n
Engines of most horrid cruelty Tormenting them they rather chose to die The torturing Boot and burning Matches too They made these innocent Souls to undergo And after all were Sentenc'd unto death And villainously were depriv'd of Breath Some that were guiltless yet were Sentenced To lose their Ears and then be Banished And after this again Examin'd were Whether to their Opinions they adhere If so a second Sentence doth succeed And they are instantly condemn'd to bleed Thus multitudes of Men and Families Were ruined by such Barbarities Extravagant Fines and long Imprisonment And all the Hellish ways Rome can invent Were exercis'd severely on all those Who Popery and Slavery durst oppose Yea they not only took their Lives away But their good Name seek likewise to destroy By representing them as Mortal Foes T' th' King and that they did his Power oppose Thus was our Saviour dealt with by the Jews And thus did they his blest Apostles use Hoping that by their heaping infamy Upon good men they would obnoxious be Unto the Censure of the Mobile And by this their Infernal Policy Induce them all Religion to decry Especially if they be Men of Name As many were whom they sought to defame And hereby thought all Piety to root out Their vile Intrigues with ease to bring about For when Men all Religion do defie They 'll quickly suck in Rome's Idolatry Their wicked Laws good Men must not transgress Nay which is worse they force them to profess And to declare They just and righteous are And fit to be obey'd yea they must Swear They will defend them and that Power too That did Enact them which was hard to do There 's one thing more that 's grievous to relate Which shews their cruel and malicious hate That finding Legal Tryals 'gainst them slow And troublesome they grant a power to The rude ungovern'd Souldiers so that they Have pow'r to challenge and examine may Whom they think fit and Oaths likewise impose Scotland ne're saw such Justices as those Yea they commanded and enjoined were To put to death all such as would not Swear Yea if they would not answer the demands Of these loud wretches then into their hands They fell who most severely them did use The French Dragoons could them not worse abuse And in few weeks no less than Fifty dy'd Of those that their curst Tyranny decry'd No Judge these Martyr'd Christians did condemn Neither did any Jury pass on them The Souldiers without cause destroy'd them all Which doth aloud to Heav'n for vengeance call They kill and slay without respect to Age Or Sex to gratifie their brutish rage They raise an Army like to that in France Their Arbitrary Power to advance And the Intrigues of Rome to carry on And this for Scotland s sorrows makes me moan Poor men Free Quarters must provide or they Are plundered and all is swept away And many hundred sober Persons were Inhumanely destroy'd year after year No former Tyrant scarcely did invent More Tortures than good men there under-went VVhich they must suffer or must else defile Their Consciences with their Opinions vile It seem'd as if Inquisitors were come To Scotland now from Spain or else from Rome Ah! poor inslaved Land Ah! must thou be The Scene of Popish Pride and Cruelty Thy Magistrates are ravening VVolves become Of Esau's Race fit Instruments for Rome Thy Noble Patriots mourn thy Priests are sad Thy Kirk has lost that Glory which she had 'T is good for thee to weigh and lay to Heart What caus'd these woes under which thou dost smart Hast thou not been too hot and too severe And hence are forc'd such miseries now to bear Learn wisdom then and mild and gentle be Since God doth never love severity If ever he return to thee again Let not thy sharpness all thy glory stain Let such who can't unite and joyn with thee Have equal Love and Christian Liberty Or else at length a fiercer Storm may come Than what thou hast already had from Rome Farewel poor Scotland for I must be gone And now methinks I hear poor Ireland groan With a sad Heart I take my leave of thee And what is doing there resolve to see AH dismal sight What! all in Popish hands Not one good Protestant that here commands Must Wolves be Keepers of my harmless Sheep Take heed poor Souls take heed and do not sleep Ah! now I see what the King did intend Is this the love and kindness of a Friend Did he pretend all should have equal share Of Trust and Honour how does this appear Yet let their Honour go if that were all I should not care but when to mind I call The sad and dismal year of Forty One And what by Irish Papists then was done I cannot think my Children safe to be Whilst only such are in Authority Is 't fit such bloody Butchers should bear sway Whose Hearts were never changed to this day Here 's not a Constable ev'n so mean a place But what is of the Irish Popish Race I fear dear Children if God don't appear Your utter ruin now approaches near I cannot but lament when I behold These hungry Lions compassing my Fold If Heav'n don't them deter and soon prevent You will ere long be all in pieces rent But yet cheer up I long expected have The Lion of the North will come to save Both me and mine and will great Wonders do Protecting of these Lands from overthrow The Chicken of the Eagle will appear And vanquish all my Foes both far and near When you of him have Tidings weep no more For your Redemption then is at the door I can't stay longer here my Eye doth glance To pity my poor Children too in France But should I dive into their State I fear I should want strength their miseries to bear BUT other grounds of grief are in mine Eye ' Which cause my sorrows to advance so high ' That my o're-burthen'd Heart can scarce express ' The nature of my inward heaviness Sion's Friend Sion thy sad and bitter lamentation Does move my very Heart unto compassion But say what cause does aggravate your fears And thus provokes to further cries and tears Sion Oh if my Head were waters and each Eye A Springing Fountain I could drein 'em dry I 'm steep'd in brackish Floods nay almost drown'd To see how Sin does ev'ry where abound This was my cry and moan Eight years ago And worse since that I find these evils grow therefore must repeat them o're again For these alas do England's Glory stain And bring reproach likewise on my blest name The grief of Heaven and my Childrens shame ` Where-e re I am I nought can see or hear But that which doth my Soul in pieces tear It breaks my Heart that England thus should be A Scene for th' Actors of Debauchery What perpetrations of the blackest Crimes Appear not bare-fac'd in our present times Though God incens'd has fearful Judgments