in one day Death Mourning and Famine and thou shalt be utterly burnt with Fire like a Woman that hath broken Wedlock and slain her Sovereign At which all the Host of Saints and Angels shall say Amen Hallelujah The AVTHOR's REQUEST I. SOme things great God my Soul doth long to have Before these transient days of mine be o'er Which things in deep humility I crave Before I go from hence and be no more Till my Requests I can of thee obtain I shall be fill'd with sorrow grief and pain II. Alas my Griefs are now increased double O that thou would'st be pleas'd to hear O Lord Then should my Soul be free from inward trouble If what I humbly ask thou would'st afford Until thy grace allows me my Request I cannot cease nor give thee any rest III. 'T is not for fading Riches of this World Nor empty Honour that to thee I cry Such with a puff are oft to nothing hurld They get them Wings and from Possessors fly All sublunary things uncertain be I ask them not some better things I see IV. 'T is not for Pleasures that are transitory Which fill vain Fancies with a foolish Joy But for some Glimpses of Diviner Glory Which my transported Soul longs to enjoy Can Riches Honours fading Pleasures give The things I want whilst on the Earth I live V. The things that I am longing to receive Most precious are O let me humbly urge That thou thy presence unto me would'st give My heart from sin that thou wouldst also purge These are the things my never-ceasing Cry Petitions for Lord grant them e'er I die VI. Thy presence does more consolate my heart Then sweetest Honey or the Honey-Comb I will with Mary chuse the better part 'T is Sin my Soul would be deliver'd from Then I thy Name in Songs will magnifie And happy be when e'er I come to die VII Let thy good Spirit be my blessed Guide And in thy House let me for ever dwell From Gospel-Truths O let me never slide Nor find my Conscience like another Hell And I thy Name for evermore shall praise And happy be when I shall end my Days VIII Lord whatsoever my Estate is here With sweet Submission let me be content When I 'm most troubled then be thou most near And never from me thy dear self absent This will my prostrate Spirit highly raise And if I suffer to thy Name be praise IX Teach me I pray thee that Celestial Skill My Days to number as thy Saints have done Let me still yield unto thy blessed Will And wait upon thee till my Glass be run So shall my Raptur'd Tongue thy praise proclaim And sing Hosanna's to thy Glorious Name X. O regulate my Tongue and make me see How few my days are and how short their length Let all my Trust be still repos'd in thee Relax thy scourge or add unto my strength Be thou my way my strength my light that I May learn to live and in thy favour die XI When hungry let thy Manna be my meat When circled in the dark enlighten me When I am weary O! be thou my Seat And when imprison'd do thou set me free So fill'd enlightned after sweet repose Enlarg'd from Bonds I will thy praise disclose XII In time of wrath when fury waxes great Be thou my Bulwark and securest Tower To thy transcending Name let me retreat And be defended by thy mighty Power Secure me till thy Vengeance is past over That I thy Praises may to all discover XIII Let me with Patience run that blessed Race And From my weights which very sore have bin Be now set free that with a swifter pace I may the Prize of lasting Glory win Be thou my Guide do thou direct my Path Lord give me Patience with Patience Faith XIV Thy Children are as many Members joyn'd Which make one body whose blest Head thou art O cause them with an undivided mind And perfect Union to have all one heart Then shall I hope to see a blest increase Of sion's Glory and of Israel's Peace XV. Thy Children have in many things provok'd Thee but in Mercy pass Offences by By Grace O Lord let Judgment be revok'd That they may live thy Name to magnifie And I thy Goodness will proclaim to all And warning take lest I my self do fall XVI Remember Sion in her aking grief She mourns she weeps and is in inward pain Do thou in Mercy send her such relief That she with cause may never more complain Then not till then my sorrows will be over And I thy goodness will to all discover XVII O let thy Gospel through the Earth be spread Rome's black design O let thy Grace prevent Permit not them to grow into a Head As they have purpos'd with a full intent Then shall I quickned by a holy Flame Ascribe the Glory to thy Blessed Name XVIII I pray thee scatter our inraged Foes And baffle all who proudly have combin'd Against thine Heritage do thou expose Them to be tost as Chaff before the Wind Preserve thy Flock from bloudy Babels hand Establish Truth and Quiet in the Land XIX O God whose dreadful Judgments are severe And whose great Mercy 's full of sweet compassion Destroy thy Churches Foes both far and near And grant to me the joy of thy Salvation Then will I spend the Remnant of my days In Psalms of Thanks to thee and Hymns of Praise XX. Make hast to judge the Persecuting Whore Thy righteous Judgment quickly execute Let her so fall that she may rise no more O Lord be pleas'd to grant my earnest suit That I may see her fall before I die That I thy Name may therefore magnifie XXI O Lord establish thiee own interest And set thy Son upon his blessed Throne Destroy the Kingdom of the Scarlet Beast Let Christ his Foes to conquer now go on That on the Top of Sion I may sing Aloud Hosanna to the Highest King XXII What thou O Lord hast to thy Sion told Of Blessings that thou hast for her in Store Them once fulfill'd O let mine Eyes behold And then let me go hence and be no more In this disturbing World but let me be Translated to a blest Eternity XXIII In all the course of my short Pilgrimage Be thou my Load-Star let my heedful Eye Be fixt on thee that when I leave the Stage I may be fitted and prepar'd to die That when this transitory life is o'er With Angels I may fing for evermore XXIV Whate'er of any Suit thou dost deny Grant me True Faith that I may still believe That through Christs Ransom when I come to dy A Glorious Crown from thee I shall receive O Lord of Hosts vouchsafe me my request Let me enjoy but thee and I will rest For having thee all precious things I have And in the World there 's nothing else I crave An Alarm to the Wise and Foolish Virgins I. ALL you that fear the Lord give ear To what I
charg'd â—y Bolder Foes my sorrows are enlarg'd 〈◊〉 hellish Tribe from black Avernus flew â—hat Bloodhound-like me and my Lambs pursue Lord JESUS come O let my Cries invoke Thy sacred Presence to divert the stroke Are all my Friends withdrawn what is there non Steps in to ease me of my grievous moan Sion's Friend WHat doleful noise salutes my wondring Ear What grief-expressing Note is that I hear Methinks the Accent of this Dismal Cry Bespeaks some one in great extremity The shrilness of the mournful Voice bespeaks A Womans loud and unregarded shrieks The more her deep and piercing sobs I heed The more my Heart in sympathy does bleed Ah! who can find her out who can make known The Author of this Heart-relenting Moan Doubtless though Grief now seizes thous upon her She is a Lady of high Birth and Honour Of Royal Stem extracted from Above Nurs'd in the Chambers of the Fathers Love Espoused to a most Illustrious Prince Who over all has Just Preheminence Monarch of Monarchs Sion Is it Thou O mourn my soul O let my Spirit bow Let all that love the Bridegroom sigh for grief For Sion weeps as one past all Relief But why O Sion since thâ— art belov'd Of Heavens Supream art thou so sadly mov'd Thy Arms expanded thus implore the Skies Thy streaming Rivulets flow from thine eies â—â—is makes me wonder Sion MY forlorn Estate 〈◊〉 poor unpitty'd mean and desolate â—ong have wander'd in the Wilderness â—volv'd in trouble kept in sore Distress 〈◊〉 Caves absconding from the horrid Rage â—f Savage Beasts until this later Age 〈◊〉 made Attempts to look a little Out â—he Monster spy'd me and does search about â—he Roaring Bloud-Hounds greedy on the scent â—o kill or drive me back again are bent â—o Interval of Peace no Rest they give â—â—onounce me cursed and not fit to live 〈◊〉 Dragon fell combined with the Beast â—o gore my Sides and spoil my Interest â—h ' old Lion Lionness and Lions Whelp â—ith dreadful Jaws the other Beasts do help â—â—gs Bulls and Foxes Bears and Wolves agree â—o rend to tear and make a spoil of me â—hat have been so delicately bred 〈◊〉 Children at a Royal Table fed â—n how expos'd to the Infernal Spite 〈◊〉 such as do in Fire and Blood delight â—ots hatch'd in Hell and Rome that black design 〈…〉 a Monarch and to undermine Our Ancient Laws subvert Religion and Bow England's Neck to Antichrists command Were but Preludiums to that dismal Vrn As martyr'd heaps in flaming Smithfield burn Design'd for Protestants and all the Rest Who hate Romes Idol th' Image of the Beast I am the Mark the Monsters aim at All Their grand designs were to contrive my fall If Friends or others any Favours show They straight conspire to work their Overthrow Ah vile Conspiracy Ah cursed PLOT So deeply laid How canst thou be Forgot Hells grand Intreagues ne'er introduc'd a Brat Into the World so horrible as that Since Rome the western cheated Monarchs rid A Rampant WHORE the horned Beast bestrid Disgorging Plots employing hellish Actors May all our Off-spring Exeerate such Factors Sion forlorn How very few regard Thy cries tears mens hearts are grown so hard In Restless Hurries tost with every wind No Ease no Peace no Comfort can I find The horrid Aspect of these Monsters do Affright my Children some they worry too On Some they seiz like greedy Beasts of prey And to their Dens the Sacrifice convey Renowned GODFREY whose immortal glory Mastyr'd for me shall ever live in Story Let every Loyal Eye that sees it there Yield to his Name the Tribute of a Tour. Brave Soul Thy Love and Loyalty do claim That King and People should proclaim thy Name As England's Victim ne'er to be forgot Fast'ning on Rome an everlasting Blot The Great Jehovah who is onely Wise Permits thy Fall as a sweet Sacrifice Thy Barb'rous Murder has made clearly out That Plot which none but Infidels can doubt Those bloody Varlets black Assassinates Curs'd Executioners of Rome's Debates Drunk with Infernal Cruelty made Thee A Specimen of England's Tragedy By Thee we learn what Courtesie to hope From Romish Butchers Vassals to the Pope Thou led'st the Van first fell into the Trap From whence they say no Protestant shall ' scape Pure Innocence Trapann'd amongst them came Without suspicion like a harmless Lamb Whilst they like hungry Tygers ready stood T'embrue their Tallons in thy guiltless Blood Thou little thought'st such an Infernal Snare Had been thus laid to trap Thee unaware 'T is strange say some what Reason should engage Them to make Thee the Object of their Rage The Cause was thus The Babylonish Whore Big with a Bastard long'd as heretofore 〈◊〉 Christian Blood her Favourites made haste â—a her great need to help her to a Taste Of choicest Liquors this she calls the first To chear her linking heart and quench her thirst Fearing Miscarriage when her Spirits faint She drinks the hearts Blood of some Martyr'd Saint Then Horse-leech more insatiable she cries Give give me that or nothing 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 We 'll Strangle Him before He gives a glimpse Of our Designs or Countermines our Imps. Ah Brutish Whore of Cannibals the worse This bloody Draught has brought an endless Curse On thee And lasting Calendars we see Records this Instance of thy Cruelty This Loyal Knight ne'er injur'd you but stood Discharging Justice for his Countreys Good Will nought but Blood of Protestants give ease Or quench your thirst What mischievous Disease Infects your Bowels Must your Chruches Food Be flesh of Saints Your mornings-draught their blood Fellonious Strumpet Must you be so bold To steal by night into your Neighbours Fold Seiz on my Lambs Thy Theft and Cruelty As well as Murder shall revenged be But since He 's gone and Justice does pursue With eager steps th' Assassinating Crew We 'll acquiesce For Heaven seems to call For Tears Cessation at his Funeral Let Christians offer through the Universe Whole Hâ—catombs upon his bleeding Herse And could their Tears increase into a Flood 'T were no excess So much I prize his Blood But other grounds of Grief are in mine Eye Which cause my Sorrows to advance so high That my o'er-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 Soul unto Compassion But say what Cause does aggravate your Fears And thus provokes to further Cries and Tears Sion IF that my Head were Waters and each Eye A brim-full Fountain I could drein 'em dry I 'm steep'd in brackissh Floods nay almost drownd To see how Sin does ev'ry where abound Where e'er 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
SION in DISTRESS OR THE GROANS OF THE Protestant CHRUCH Lam. I 12. Is there any Sorrow like unto my Sorrow Vers 17. Sion spreadeth forth her Arms and there is none to comfort her Vers 20. Behold O Lord I am in DISTRESS Quis talia Fando Temperet a lachrimis Virgil. LONDON Printed by George Larkin for Enoch Prosser at the Sign of the Rose and Crown in Sweethings-Alley at the East End of the Royal Exchange 1681. To the READER YOu are here presented with a Reviv'd Poem with such Additions and Enlargements as makes it very different from the First Impression It is suited to the Present State of the Protestant Church shewing the Causes of her present Calamity with an Ennumeration of some Prevailing Sins the Plots and Contrivances of ROME against SION the Marks of the Antichristian Beast and Scarlet Whore with her Arraignment and Condemnation illustrated in difficult places with Marginal Notes Also some probable Discoveries of the Churches Redemption and the approaching Glory of the Latter Day We have now a plain Prospect by the Gracious Discoveries of Providence of those Horrid and Execrable Plots which the restless Adversary has contriv'd against the Peace and very Being of SION and which were much in the dark when my Muse first bewail'd its Condition and suspected that this Epidemical Mischief now Reveal'd was then a hatching In a Subject of Grief a quaint and ornamental Method is not to be expected for an abrupt and sobbing Delivery is more natural in the Delineations of Sorrow then a studied well-poiz'd and artificial Harrangue The Subject is Divine and too lofty for so weak a Muse which I hope will oblige the Generous Reader to a candid and mild Construction I have writ according to the measure of Light received and have contributed my Mite in a well-meaning Spirit to reduce us to our Selves Against the Reigning Evils which expose us to Temporal and Spiritual Enemies many Wholesome Precepts from Scripture and Reason are given The Rise Progress and Persecutions of the Man of Sin are succinctly delivered with the Evidence of Approved Historians some of them Papists whose Evidence against Themselves ought to be convincing There cann't be too many Defendants against so Vigorous an Assailant as Rome is There are many Excellent Tracts that discover the Villanies of Popery and I wish they were more Common It is a great comfort that the Spirit of the Nation is so much and justly incensed against it And that our Parliament is so Thorow and Resolved to crush that Interest whose Principles teach them to be to all Hereticks for so they call Protestants Trayterous Subjects ill Neighbours and worse Soveraigns To promote the Just Odium of my Native Countrey against so destructive and malignant an Enemy is in part the Design of this Essay which being of small bulk and price may possibly come into more hands then larger Volumns If it contributes any thing in order to that End it answers the Expectation of Your Souls Well-Wisher To his Friend the AVTHOR On the FIRST IMPRESSION WHat Muse is this that thus inspires thy Brain And leads thy Genius to so high a Strain Must thy Aspiring Fancy now rehearse Thy Mothers Groans in an Elegiack Verse Is Prose too mean and unregarded now That still in Verse thou let'st the World know how SION's abus'd by Rome's Infernal Crew How in her Blood they did their hands imbrew Let thy Endeavours prosper Let them prove To be Rome's shame A Token of thy Love To thy Distressed Mother now the scorn Of black-mouth'd Imps who are of Satan born Aspiring Soul What from her Sorrows climb To a Prophetick Spirit in thy Rhime Foretelling how she shall deliver'd be From all those Bloody Beasts whom thou do'st see God will destroy and will thy Mother make Heav'ns Glory and Earths Joy for his Names sake Jehovah bless thy Work this Book though small And make it prove a Preface to Rome's Fall Vale. To my Friend the AUTHOR Upon His REVIV'D POEM HEre 's Grief in Raptures Who could thus infuse All Strains of Sorrow No Aonnian Muse Such Sacred Rhapsodies could e'er inspire Nor were they borrow'd from Apollo's Quire No Inspiration from the Thespian Spring Does teach our Poet in this mode to sing He suks no Hippocrene nor feeds upon The fancy'd Dew of Pagan Helicon He mounts no Pegasus nor gathers Drops Distill'd by Clio from Parnassian Tops These are but Whimsies Some Seraphick Fire His Muse did with this Mourning Song inspire Who ran but in the highest Notes of Grief Weep Tears in Verse when SION wants Relief Such as from Art their lofty Strains do borrow Do but describe an Artificial Sorrow But his is purely Natural for we Perceive it comes from perfect Sympathy His clear discerning Soul her danger sees Approaching on by unperceiv'd degrees He gives us Warning to prevent the Stroke To leave our Sins and Mercy to invoke Here 's a Prophetick Glass where we may view The swift Destruction that will else ensue But Friend we thank thee that thou hast not left us Without some hope nor has thy Book bereft us Of Consolation for the SCARLET WHORE Is there so Sentenc'd that She 'll rise no more Sion in Distress OR THE GROANS OF THE PROTESTANT CHURCH SION What dismal Vapour in so black a form Is this that seems to Harbinger a Storm What pitchy Cloud invades our Starry Sky To stop the Beamings of the Worlds Great Eye What spreading Sables of Egyptian Night Would rob the Earth of its Illustrious Light What interposing Fog obscures our Sun What dire Eclipse benights our Horizon Is England's Great and Royal Bridegroom fled Is its Aurora newly gone to bed That scatter'd Clouds make such prodigious haste Combine in one and re-unite so fast Clouds that so lately dissipated were Do now conspire to make a Darker Air I mourn impity'd groan without Relief No bounds nor measures terminate my grief The Sluces of mine Eyes are too too narrow To went the Streams of my increasing Sorrow Ebbs follow swelling Floods and Vernal Days Adorn the Fields that Winter disarrays All States and Things have their alternate ranges As Providence the Scene of Action changes All Revolutions hurries to and fro At length some Rest and Settlement do know But helpless I have often look'd about To find some Ease or Soul-Refreshment out Yet can I see no prospect of Relief But swift Additions multiply my grief As Pilgrims wander in their deep distress Amongst the wild rapacious Savages In pathless Desarts where the midnight howls Of hungry Wolves mixt with the screech of Owls And Ravens dismal croaks salute the Ears Of poor erratick trembling Passengers So I 'm sorrounded so the Beasts of Prey Conspire to take my Life and Name away My glowing Soul does melt my Spirits faint â—or want of vent I 'm pregnant with complaint No Age nor Generation but has known â—ome part of this my just and grievons moan â—ut now I 'm far more dangerously
Lord of Hosts Awake O England this Lethargick Sleep Is out of Season 't is a time to weep If guilty Children tremble at the Rod Can you be stupid when the Angry God Sets up this dreadful Ensign of his Wrath Rouze up Repentance let a lively Faith Now go to work See how the Preaching Air Instead of Sinning does exhort to Prayer For thy Fantastick Garbs Perfumes and all Thy other Trash it doth for Sackcloth call From Carnal Sports it bids thee quickly get Calls from the Taverns to the Mercy-Seat From that accursed Rendezvous of Lust It bids thee hasten and repent in Dust Have not th' Experience of past Ages given Their sad Remarks upon those Signs in Heaven What fâ—llow'd still but certain Spoil of Nations Plagues Fire and Sword and other Devastations The sure Eversion of some Potent Crown The Death of Heroes Monarchs tumbled down But thou Illustrious Architect of Wonder Remove the Sorrows which I labour under Does this Amazing Prodigy betoken That Rampant Babel shall be quickly broken Does it portend that Antichrist shall break In pieces striving to destroy the Weak Remains that on this blessed Name do Call Or dos't presage that trembling I shall fall Lord canst thou see thy pleasant Vineyard Tore And rooted up by this rapacious Boar â— have my Childrens crying Sins provok'd â—hat dismal Sentence not to be revok'd â—ods Methods were to chasten not destroy â—â—ose Sinning Souls in whom he once took joy â— give thy Sinking Church a true discerning â—hat thou dost mean by this prodigious Warning â—hat by thy Spirits sacred Flame calcin'd 〈◊〉 Scourges mended and by heat refin'd We may find Grace But oh My Spirits faint â—nder the Pressure of my Great Complaint 〈◊〉 panting Soul another grief doth feel 〈◊〉 feeble Knees beneath their burden Reel Sion's Children AH Mother who can disallow your moan The cause is just for every one must own â—ur failings great and that our sins provoke â—mpending Judgement and a future Stroke â—f interceding Mercy steps not in To ward the blow and cancel out our Sin But since unthought-of Providence gives light And calls the Sun to see the Acts of Night Since Heav'n exposes the Results of Rome To Publick Notice since the Traytors come To Legal Execution since the grand Contrivers of this Mischief dare not stand To Test of Law or due Examination Since such brave Heroes represent the Nation Whose clear sagacious penetrating Eyes Dive into Rome's abhorred Mysteries Whose Nobler Souls whose Loyal English Hearts The closest Slights of Antichristain Arts Can ne'er deceive whose brave Resolves defeat Those curs'd Delinquents whether small or great Whose Free-born Courages do scorn to stoop To be the Vassals of a Rascal-Pope An Vpstart Imp whose Title ne'er was given By binding Laws of either Earth or Heaven We therefore dearest Mother do conclude That what has past of Romish Interlude Is near an Exit that the Scene will be Chang'd from a Tempest to Serenity Sion O That 's a Cordial But my grief does borrow Some fresh Objections to renew my sorrow For some that wish me well do yet in spite Of Gospel-Beamings and the clearest Light Retain some Romish Fragments which displeases The meek the humble self-denying JESVS His way of Worship Scripture does express No Useless Pomp no Artificial Dress Becomes Religion Chastity abhors The Garb the Painting and the Gate of Whores Why should my Friends a Virgin-Church pollute With any Relicks of that Prostitute Why Gawdy Things that never had a Name In sacred Records our Profession shame Why are our Rites enamel'd with their Gloss Why must our Gold be mingled with their Dross Why further Reformation is supprest T' uphold a Grandeur that 's Vsurp'd at best Why Doors and Windows must be shunt up quite To stop the Radiance of a further Light And why must such as disallow those Tricks Be branded as the vilest Schismaticks But that 's not all My Children more refin'd From those Corruptions do afflict my mind O depths of Sorrow that disturb my Rest O racking Grief that rends my woful Brest Some are so Carnal some so swiftly hurl'd Into the Labrinths of th' inticing World That in the hurries of that crouded Road They find small leasure to attend their God Preferring filthy Gain and ill-got Wealth Before the means of their Eternal Health Some that in words respect me I behold In that sad posture betwixt hot and cold Sometimes they seem for sanctity sometimes Slide with the current of prevailing Crimes Their Pulses beat with an alternate motion Now for the World then for some faint Devotion Some that unto my Tabernacles were Admitted left me for Egyptian Fare These not content with my Celestial Diet Do run with others to excess of Riot Some to be Popular away would give Those Gospel-Dutys that are positive From such as these my Sorrows do increase That Sell Gods Order for a seeming Peace Such Open Gaps that do pervert the Laws Of my just Right and well-defended Cause But O! how many Easy Christians take Their Rest in Forms and no distinction make 'Twixt Shell and Kernel that rely on Duty As if it were the sole adorning Beauty Such give the Lord the more invalid part Present their Body but deny their Heart Are not some Pastors careless to provide A Word in Season for the Flocks they guide Some are too backward to supply the Need Of painful Lab'rers that their Souls do feed Discourag'd by Close-fisted Avarice Despis'd neglected through this Hellish Vice My Workmen languish and have cause of moan To see their Toyl so ineffectual grown The most Pathetick Preaching scarce can move Some Rocky Hearers to the Grace of Love Must Hag-fac'd Envy and foul-tongu'd Detraction Invenom'd Malice and unfaithful Action Ill-grounded Slander and uncertain Rumors Backbitings Quarrels and the worst of Humours Be practic'd thus Ah grief of griefs to fee Professing People act iniquity To such a Pitch Some Husbands and some Wives Do lead such shameful such unsavoury Lives Whilst mutually at strife they do impeach That Name that should be very dear to each Such Pride such surly dogged reprehension For every Toy such sharpness and contention As does disgrace Religion and does lay Blocks and Offences in a Converts Way Ah! why can 't Saints in Familys eschew That which meer Heathens are asham'd to do Their Houses are the Scene of Civil Wars Of Brawls of Discord and Domestick Jars In grace or comfort can they find increase Or Heavenly Blessings who are void of Peace How oft do Parents Ill Example draw Their tender Children to infringe the Law And Sanctions of the Everlasting God Do they not spoil them when they spare the Rod To strict Extremes some Parents do adhere Check not at all or else are too severe On Back and Belly they bestow much Cost But care not if their Precious Souls be lost Are they not guilty of Prodigious Folly That teach them Courtship neglect what 's Holy A Child untutor'd a
meer lump of Sin May justly curse its cause of having been Such as instruct do doubly them beget By timely Lessons lab'ring to defeat Their growth in Ill such mold their better part By wise prevention of a Canker'd heart O! then 's the time to give 'em Form and Mold For Trees admit no bending that are Old Who timely sow such seed they would have grow Will surely reap according as they sow Some like the Ape that does by hugging kill Prompt on a Child to tip his tongue with ill In his first prattle But it is less pain To form good Habits then reform the vain On th' other hand how many Children do Prove vain rebellious disobedient to Their godly Parents Slight their careful teaching Make Games of Prayer and a mock of Preaching Contempt of Parents of what kind so e'er Contracts a bitter Curse which every where Will find them out But O my aking Soul Beats sad Alarms of Grief I must condole The dismal Fate of Youth Alas how few The ways of God and Holiness pursue But very eager to obey the Devil In quickly learning every reigning Evil. Here you may see if you survey the Nation Our Youth grown old in vile abomination Such early Graduates in the Hellish Science Setting both Heaven and Hell at loud defiance Let Grace and Vertue grovel in the Dust Their Youth and Strength they 'l sacrifice to Lust That sacred Precept in the Word of Truth To mind their Maker in the Days of Youth They scorn to head Ah fools that would begin Conversion when they can no longer sin But know preposterous Sots the Day of Doom That dreadful Audit of Accounts will come How dare you run this vile Career till Death Like a Grim Serjeant comes t' arrest your breath When Tongues do faulter your Eyestrings crack When stings of Horror do your Conscience rack When Hells Abyss sets ope its spacious Gate And Troops of Devils round about you wait When nought but Horrour and Confusion seizes Upon your Sences when those foul Diseases You got by vile Debauches have at length Destroy'd your Person and subdu'd your Strength Is this a Season to Detest your Lewdness To talk of Vertue or pretend to Goodness Egregious Fools how dare you to delay Your Souls Affair to that uncertain Day O! Can you trust so grand a Work to that Moment of Anguish when you know not what When Sonnd your end will be nor yet how soon Though brisk at Morning you may die ere Noon And if unchang'd your certain Doom will be To lye in Hell to all Eternity Sion's Children O Dismal State O miserable Case Enough to daunt all that are void of Grace And crush the bragging of the stoutest mind But are there still more grievances behind Sion STill more behind O that there were no more Since they 're too many that I 've told before Masters and Servants Kings and Subjects err In their Relation does not each prefer Base Selfish Ends to gratifie a Lust Before what 's honest and supreamly Just Ah! how much time among the Saints is spent In fruitless idle Talk How negligent In holy Conference strange to each other How dull is each to quicken up his Brother In Gospel-dutys O! how few do nourish That Love and Zeal which heretofore did flourish A Love whose flaming Heat and Gen'rous Rays â—Replete with Spirit fam'd the former days â—ious Discourses may reclaim the Vile â—ut they are hard'ned in their Sins the while â—aints do converse like them and rather learn Their vicious Tricks then teach them to discern The dismal Snares and Perils that do lurk 〈◊〉 sinful Words and every evil Work â—â—me are so convetous that they would grasp The World in Arm-fulls till their latest Gasp â—â—me full of Envy others do express Their Lust on Dainties feeding to Excess 〈◊〉 nice and delicate in choice of Meat Whilst their poor Brethren scarce have bread to eat Merchants and Traders have a nimble Art To summ their Shop-books but neglect the Heart For that they think there 's time enough and look But seldom to the Reck'nings of that Book How many come for Fashion-sake to hear What one receives goes out at t'other Ear How many loyter in their Christian Race Profusely squandering the day of Grace Many like Drones on others Toyl do live Though 't is less honour to receive than give What lying cheating couz'ning and deceit Do Traders use O! how they over-rate What they would sell but if they be to buy They undervalue each Commodity But why should Pride that vile Abomination Be found in Saints must every Apish Fashion Bewitch their minds when God is so Express In strict for â—idding of so vile a Dress Prayer that Sacred Ordinance that holds An intercourse with Heaven which beholds The Fathers Glory and on High does mount Is made by many but of small account 'T is that that carrys our Desires to God And comes down fraighted with a blessed Load Of sweet Returns yet 't is much disrespected And Closet-Duty too too much neglected Scriptures themselves are slighted and dis-us'd And oft when read perverted or abus'd Helping the Weak is turn'd into a slighting Gospel-Reproofs perverted to backbiting Many that do of God their Mercy crave Yet on the Needy little Mercy have All owe their Blessings to the God of Love Yet too too many do unthankful prove Some follow Whimsies that do nearly border Upon Confusion and despise all Order Such on all Sacred Institutions trample Though fortify'd by Precept and Example As if 't were low for an exalted mind To be to Gods Declared Will confin'd But can these Men of Rapture make pretences That they have more Divine Intelligence Then all th' Illustrious Saints as Prophets Priests Apostles Martyrs and Evangelists That were the Scribes and Messengers of Heaven And strictly practic'd all the Dutys given Unto the Church which are without repeal But if they 're disanul'd who did reveal Their Abrogation to these bold Pretenders Gods Laws are sound and need no Cobling-menders But Oh! that Dismal Evil that 's behind Disturbs my Reason and distracts my Mind It is DIVISION That unhappy word Has done more Mischief than a Popish Sword Could ever do if that a sweet Communion At least of Love did but compleat our Vnion Why should Licentious Heat my Children hurry To those Extreams must they each other worry For trivial things do they not all agree â—n Fundamentals of Divinity Is there no Room for Love or must that grace Among my Children have no proper place Why must one Saint be angry with his Brother If not so tall as he or with another Because his Face is not so white as his Or that his Habit not so gawdy is Alas no Folly can be more absund Nor more exploded in Gods Holy word All should to Gospel-Purity adhere But to calumniate villifie and jeer All such as are not of their very pitch Is Anti-Gospel and a practice which The Lord abhors If
Lord the bloudy Flag puts out When God from Sodom righteous Lot did call Sulphureous Flashes did consume them all Another ground of my prevailing fear That England's black Catastrophe is near Is that as in the Closure of the Day The Evening Wolves do range abroad to Prey So Romish Beasts in monstrous Swarms do peep From their black Caverns to destroy my Sheep Such hate the tell-tale-light and therefore hide Themselves in Dens until the Ev'ning â—ide Their cursed products are resolves of Night Like silent Currs that in the dark do bite Another Symptom of the days declension Is when the Shadows do increase dimension So when I look about I plainly see Our Ev'ning shadows very long to be In Humane Bodys when the Head grows Hoary It notes decay of Vigor Strength and Glory Gray hairs are thick upon our Ephraim's Head His Strength decays his Face is withered When joynts grow palsy'd the Blood 's congeal'd Into a Jelly can the Man be heal'd When limbs grow stiff and feeble Age does plow Its wrinkled furrows on the Patients brow When heat gives place to a benumming cold When doting Fancy cares not to be told Of its approaches to a certain Grave When it rejects the Physick that would save The Case is desperate for the Patient 's just Upon the Point to be intomb'd in Dust E'en so Alas this Gasping Nation lies Under the pressure of sad Maladies 'T is sick at heart yet seems averse to take That sacred Physick whose Ingredients make Diseases vanish and would ward the Blow Which will I fear produce its overthrow Ah! must our Glory like a brittle Glass Reduc'd to Fractions into Atomes pass So Rude a Chaos an unform'd confusion Threatning the whole with utter dissolution Once Happy Isle I grieve at thy condition Where 's thy Repentance where is thy Contrition Thou hast been counted our Emanuel's Land The Gospel seems on Tip-toe now to stand To bid thee farewel Must thy Sun so soon Be sett before it did approach to Noon Must that Illustrious Morning-light be gone That spread it Beams through all our Horizon Must wretched Malice and prodigious Lust Must bare-fac'd Pride and impudent Distrust Rob thee of this inestimable Jewel How canst thou be so pittiless so cruel Unto thy self Sin is the flaming dart That cuts thy Veins and wounds thy very heart Can Sion chuse but send out mournful Crys And weep thy Downfal in sad Elegies Within thy Bounds my Tabernacles were Built up and I did long inhabit here Thy Gospel-glory and Renown's gone forth Into all Parts and Corners of the Earth Thou mayst be justly stil'd the place of Vision Though made by Foes an Object of Derision The Joy of Saints the Protestant's Delight The Mark and Butt of Antichristian spite But if the Crown be ravisht from thy Head And Romish Clouds thy Lustre overspread What heart so brawny but thy doleful Cry Must move to pity what relentless Eye Can see thy fall and not dissolve to drops O fleeting Joys O dis-appearing hopes O hastning horrour O invading fears Had I a Sea of never-empty'd tears My boundless helpless grief wide open sets The Sluces for its streaming Rivulets The very Air drest in Prodigious Forms Must groan in Thunder and must weep in Storms Nature of strong Convulsions sickned is To see this horrid Metamorphosis Where Gospel Pastors did some Millions feed Must blind and sottish ignorance succeed Must all their Throats be cut that won't adore The hateful Carcass of a Rotten Whore Must all that execrate Rome's Superstition Be Murder'd by a bloudy Inquisition Must such as won't to Idols â—ow be broke Must flaming Smithfield belch out Fire and Smoke Of Martyr'd Saints must all that will not turn With Bibles and good Books together burn Must Monkish Torys meer Incarnate Devils Possess our Land and pester it with Evils Of such an odious and abhorred Grain That but to name 'em is a lasting Stain Must our Renowned Ministers give place To Romish Block-heads O the vile disgrace Of such a Change Must an adult'rous Priest Belch out his Mass where they have preached Christ Must that absurd and irreligious Tribe Who fetter Conscience and regard a Bribe Beyond their Souls be Leaders to our Flocks Must paultry Non-sence and those Apish Mocks Mis-call'd Devotion fill the House of Prayer Must Pestilence infect our purer Air Must Sodom be translated to our Isle And filthy Priests our chastity defile Must Satans Factors in a humane shape On modest Virgins perpetrate a Rape Must all our painful Ministers be driven To fiery Stakes if they renounce not Heaven Must our dear Infants lose their harmless lives In fâ—aming Faggots or with Popish Knives Must guiltless bloud through all our Streets rebound A mournful Echo must the horrid sound Of Axes Whips and dreadful Scourges tear Our aking hearts and pierce the yielding Air All this will be if Rome can but prevail Amazement stops my Speech my Spirits fail I only can in Interjections cry I sink in Trances O! I dy I dy Sion's Children AH how can we with any Patience bear This sad Complaint Can any Children hear Their Mother delug'd in a Sea of Grief And not step in to give her some relief Chear up Illustrious Spouse and be not cast Into despair by this approaching blast Christ is our Captain then we may be bold In all our storms he is our Anchor-hold But what 's this Beast of whom thou dost complain Whence came he first and of what date 's his Reign Give us his Marks that we may surely know him Repel his Pride and quickly overthrow him With Vniversal and Vnited Force Our Armed Legions shall impede his Course If God Commands who do's the Scepter wield Wee 'll fight his Battels and dispute his Field In Martial Syllogisms our Arms shall speak Wee 'll strom his Wall and make his Pillars quake Araging Anger in our Bosom burns Patience Provok't too much to Fury turns Sion THis Beast above a twelve hundred years has bin My Mortal Foe he 's call'd b The Man of Sin a The most diligent and industrious Searchers into the Epocha or Beginning of Antichristo as the learned Mede Alstedius Mr. T. L. in his Book intituled A Voice out of the Wilderness Mr. Brightman Tillinghast with several other Eminent Men seem harmoniously to agree that the Beast began his forty two Months or one thousand two hundred and sixty Prophetical Days or Years between the years 365. and 455. and therefore must consequently end in a short time See Mr. Mede page 600 601. To confirm which the witness of the best Chronologers Historians and Antiquaries concur as also the posture of the Worlds Affairs the unusual working of things and the awakening Providences of God which makes us hope as Mr. Withers affirms That that glorious Revolution will be in this present Age. And though famous Du Moulin and some Others speake not of the Popes claiming the Title of Universal Bishop till about the