







 
   
     
       
         Seasonable thoughts in sad times being some reflections on the warre, the pestilence, and the burning of London, considered in the calamity, cause, cure / by Joh. Tabor.
         Tabor, John.
      
       
         
           1667
        
      
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         A64521
         Wing T93
         ESTC R15193
         13144586
         ocm 13144586
         98038
         
           
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             Seasonable thoughts in sad times being some reflections on the warre, the pestilence, and the burning of London, considered in the calamity, cause, cure / by Joh. Tabor.
             Tabor, John.
          
           [12], 100 p.
           
             Printed for Anne Seil,
             London :
             1667.
          
           
             In verse.
             Errata: prelim. p. [12].
             Reproduction of original in Union Theological Seminary Library, New York.
          
        
      
    
     
       
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         eng
      
       
         
           Anglo-Dutch War, 1664-1667 -- Poetry.
           Plague -- England -- London.
           London (England) -- Fire, 1666 -- Poetry.
        
      
    
     
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           Seasonable
           Thoughts
           in
           Sad
           Times
           ,
           Being
           some
           REFLECTIONS
           ON
           THE
           WARRE
           ,
           THE
           PESTILENCE
           ,
           AND
           THE
           BURNING
           OF
           LONDON
           .
           Considered
           in
           the
           
             Calamity
             ,
             Cause
             ,
             Cure.
          
           
        
         
           By
           
             Joh.
             Tabor
          
           ,
           M.
           A.
           
        
         
           Non
           placentia
           ,
           sed
           utilia
           .
        
         
           
             
               Amos
               4.10
            
             .
          
           
             I
             have
             sent
             among
             you
             the
             Pestilence
             after
             the
             manner
             of
             Egypt
             ,
             your
             young
             men
             have
             I
             slain
             with
             the
             Sword
             ,
             &c.
             
          
           
             I
             have
             overthrown
             some
             of
             you
             as
             God
             overthrew
             Sodom
             and
             Gomorrah
             ,
             and
             ye
             were
             as
             a
             fire-brand
             pluckt
             out
             of
             the
             burning
             ,
             yet
             have
             ye
             not
             returned
             to
             me
             saith
             the
             Lord
             ,
             &c.
             
          
        
         
           
             
               And
               Psal
               .
               141.5
            
             .
          
           
             Let
             the
             righteous
             smite
             me
             ,
             it
             shall
             be
             a
             kindness
             ,
             and
             let
             him
             reprove
             me
             ,
             it
             shall
             be
             an
             excellent
             Oyl
             which
             shall
             not
             break
             my
             head
             ,
             for
             yet
             my
             prayer
             also
             shall
             be
             in
             their
             calamity
             .
          
        
         
           London
           ,
           Printed
           for
           
             Anne
             Sell
          
           ,
           1667.
           
        
      
       
         
         
         
           To
           the
           Right
           Worshipful
           Sir
           
             GERVASE
             ELWES
          
           Knight
           and
           Baronet
           ,
           One
           of
           His
           Majesties
           Deputy
           Leiutenants
           in
           the
           County
           of
           Suffolk
           ,
           and
           Justice
           of
           the
           Peace
           and
           Quorum
           for
           the
           Counties
           of
           Essex
           and
           Suffolk
           .
        
         
           
             Right
             Worshipful
             !
          
        
         
           THE
           knowledge
           of
           your
           Piety
           and
           Virtue
           ,
           Candour
           and
           Benignitie
           ,
           emboldens
           me
           to
           address
           these
           Reflections
           on
           our
           Calamities
           ,
           with
           their
           Cause
           ,
           and
           Cure
           ,
           to
           the
           world
           ,
           under
           the
           shadow
           of
           your
           Name
           ,
           and
           favour
           ;
           presuming
           that
           with
           the
           regularly
           devout
           ,
           and
           truly
           pious
           ,
           such
           as
           you
           are
           ,
           they
           may
           find
           favour
           ,
           though
           perhaps
           not
           pleasing
           the
           nicer
           Wits
           of
           this
           curious
           Age
           ,
           who
           will
           mind
           more
           the
           strain
           of
           Poetry
           than
           Piety
           ,
           and
           like
           Children
           throw
           away
           the
           kernel
           to
           play
           with
           the
           shell
           :
           and
           since
           they
           so
           freely
           and
           impartially
           taxe
           the
           Vices
           of
           all
           ,
           yet
           only
           the
           humble
           ,
           and
           pious
           will
           endure
           to
           hear
           of
           
           their
           faults
           ,
           and
           there
           ?
           are
           few
           such
           in
           these
           Atheistical
           dayes
           ,
           possibly
           distasting
           many
           licentious
           and
           erroneous
           persons
           ,
           which
           yet
           discourages
           me
           not
           from
           endeavouring
           to
           amend
           our
           sad
           Times
           ,
           the
           complaint
           of
           all
           mouths
           ,
           by
           reforming
           our
           evil
           Manners
           ,
           the
           care
           of
           few
           .
        
         
           Now
           (
           Noble
           Sir
           )
           you
           sheltered
           my
           person
           under
           your
           roof
           ,
           and
           favour
           in
           the
           late
           Times
           of
           Tyranny
           and
           Confusion
           ;
           and
           when
           I
           entered
           into
           the
           Ministery
           by
           the
           Dore
           ,
           with
           an
           Episcopal
           Ordination
           on
           my
           head
           ,
           in
           a
           time
           ,
           and
           place
           that
           would
           for
           that
           cause
           only
           render
           me
           slighted
           and
           rejected
           of
           the
           most
           ,
           you
           therefore
           contracted
           the
           beams
           of
           your
           Countenance
           more
           auspiciously
           upon
           me
           ;
           nor
           shunned
           to
           impart
           to
           me
           your
           pious
           and
           loyal
           thoughts
           of
           heart
           for
           our
           then
           persecuted
           Church
           ,
           and
           distressed
           Soveraign
           .
           A
           confidence
           you
           were
           pleased
           to
           put
           in
           me
           ,
           which
           hath
           inseparably
           obliged
           my
           soul
           to
           you
           in
           the
           greatest
           sincerity
           and
           dearness
           of
           honour
           and
           affection
           ;
           so
           that
           if
           I
           may
           be
           so
           free
           with
           you
           ,
           I
           can
           sincerely
           profess
           ,
           no
           Gentleman
           in
           the
           world
           possesses
           a
           greater
           love
           and
           esteem
           in
           my
           heart
           than
           your self
           .
        
         
           I
           saw
           your
           exuberance
           of
           joy
           ,
           and
           extasie
           of
           spirit
           when
           you
           received
           the
           happy
           tidings
           of
           the
           then
           Parliaments
           Vote
           for
           his
           Majesties
           Restauration
           ,
           as
           therein
           for
           seeing
           the
           return
           of
           Glory
           and
           Prosperity
           to
           our
           Land
           :
           and
           by
           this
           ,
           though
           absent
           from
           you
           ,
           I
           can
           easily
           guess
           at
           the
           greatness
           of
           your
           sorrow
           for
           your
           Nations
           
           sufferings
           since
           :
           Besides
           ,
           you
           have
           been
           no
           small
           sufferer
           in
           these
           woes
           ,
           chiefly
           in
           the
           fire
           ,
           in
           reference
           to
           your
           own
           Concernments
           and
           your
           Relations
           :
           and
           therefore
           I
           conceive
           a
           Poem
           of
           the
           nature
           and
           design
           this
           is
           ,
           may
           not
           be
           unacceptable
           to
           you
           .
        
         
           And
           since
           I
           have
           had
           thoughts
           of
           making
           my
           Reflection
           on
           these
           things
           publick
           ,
           thinking
           to
           contribute
           something
           to
           the
           return
           of
           our
           prosperity
           ,
           by
           turning
           if
           it
           may
           be
           ,
           some
           from
           their
           iniquity
           ,
           I
           have
           been
           glad
           hereby
           to
           catch
           the
           opportunity
           ,
           to
           testifie
           to
           the
           world
           my
           due
           resentments
           of
           your
           manifold
           undeserved
           kindnesses
           ;
           a
           grateful
           acknowledgment
           being
           the
           only
           requital
           I
           am
           able
           to
           make
           for
           all
           your
           accumulated
           favours
           ,
           a
           poor
           requital
           indeed
           ,
           when
           thus
           by
           paying
           my
           old
           score
           I
           run
           but
           farther
           into
           your
           debt
           ,
           begging
           your
           acceptance
           from
           him
           ,
           who
           remains
        
         
           
             Your
             very
             much
             obliged
             Servant
             
               John
               Tabor
            
             .
          
        
      
       
         
         
           TO
           THE
           Pious
           Unprejudiced
           READER
           ,
           giving
           an
           account
           of
           the
           ensuing
           Poem
           .
        
         
           
             Christian
             Reader
             ,
          
        
         
           THE
           dismal
           Dispensations
           of
           Divine
           Providence
           towards
           us
           ,
           in
           that
           series
           of
           sad
           Judgments
           lately
           inflicted
           on
           us
           ,
           viz.
           the
           destroying
           War
           ,
           devouring
           Pestilence
           ,
           and
           desolating
           Fire
           in
           London
           ,
           having
           swallowed
           up
           my
           Soul
           in
           a
           deep
           sense
           of
           our
           hainous
           sins
           as
           the
           true
           cause
           of
           our
           heavy
           sufferings
           ,
           I
           remained
           some
           time
           in
           a
           confused
           plunge
           of
           spirit
           hereby
           ,
           all
           other
           business
           and
           employs
           superseded
           ,
           till
           at
           last
           recollecting
           my
           disordered
           thoughts
           ,
           I
           brought
           them
           to
           a
           certain
           composure
           ,
           and
           to
           render
           them
           more
           profitable
           to
           my self
           ,
           and
           to
           allay
           the
           sharpness
           of
           sorrow
           with
           the
           pleasure
           of
           some
           phancy
           ,
           I
           framed
           them
           in
           metre
           .
        
         
           I
           began
           with
           the
           War
           ,
           therein
           considering
           not
           the
           History
           as
           to
           the
           management
           of
           men
           ,
           but
           the
           calamity
           as
           to
           the
           judgment
           of
           God
           :
           I
           went
           on
           with
           the
           Pestilence
           guided
           in
           my
           Contemplation
           by
           the
           course
           of
           that
           ,
           considering
           the
           rise
           ,
           increase
           ,
           progress
           ,
           
           and
           deplorable
           effects
           thereof
           ,
           as
           they
           happened
           ,
           but
           having
           no
           thoughts
           all
           this
           time
           of
           publishing
           what
           I
           wrote
           ,
           concluding
           with
           my self
           in
           regard
           these
           Reflections
           would
           not
           be
           sin
           shed
           but
           with
           the
           Sickness
           ,
           they
           would
           be
           then
           less
           seasonable
           ,
           acceptable
           and
           profitable
           to
           the
           Publick
           ,
           the
           sense
           of
           Judgments
           too
           frequently
           wearing
           off
           with
           the
           suffering
           ,
           and
           scarce
           any
           thing
           concerning
           them
           than
           making
           impression
           on
           most
           hearts
           .
        
         
           But
           then
           the
           startling
           and
           astonishing
           news
           of
           the
           Cities
           Conflagration
           ,
           hurried
           my
           Muse
           to
           a
           new
           wrack
           of
           tormenting
           griefs
           ,
           rending
           me
           as
           many
           others
           for
           a
           time
           capable
           of
           nothing
           but
           to
           stand
           in
           the
           way
           for
           News
           ,
           wherein
           for
           some
           days
           together
           we
           still
           met
           with
           
           Job's
           messengers
           ,
           with
           sad
           tidings
           of
           increasing
           misery
           :
           till
           at
           length
           occurring
           the
           joyful
           report
           of
           the
           miraculous
           extinguishing
           of
           the
           Flames
           ,
           and
           unexpected
           Preservation
           of
           the
           unconsumed
           part
           of
           the
           City
           and
           Suburbs
           ,
           my
           mind
           became
           more
           sedate
           and
           quiet
           ,
           and
           my
           Muse
           set
           her self
           to
           reflect
           on
           this
           woe
           as
           the
           former
           ,
           not
           without
           some
           thoughts
           of
           Publication
           ,
           imagining
           this
           had
           revived
           mens
           sense
           of
           Gods
           just
           displeasure
           ,
           and
           might
           render
           them
           capable
           of
           remorse
           for
           their
           sins
           ,
           procuring
           these
           dire
           effects
           of
           it
           in
           such
           a
           dreadful
           succession
           of
           woes
           :
           then
           purposing
           to
           discover
           all
           our
           sins
           as
           cause
           of
           our
           sufferings
           ,
           and
           knowing
           that
           by
           the
           Law
           is
           the
           knowledge
           of
           sin
           ,
           I
           run
           over
           the
           
           Law
           of
           God
           in
           my
           thoughts
           ,
           and
           observed
           how
           sins
           of
           all
           sorts
           against
           every
           Commandment
           ,
           and
           others
           more
           directly
           against
           the
           Gospel
           abound
           among
           us
           ,
           so
           that
           our
           sins
           being
           found
           so
           great
           ,
           and
           numerous
           ,
           we
           may
           not
           wonder
           our
           sufferings
           have
           been
           so
           many
           and
           calamitous
           :
           And
           what
           ever
           God
           in
           his
           merciful
           Providence
           may
           seem
           to
           be
           doing
           for
           the
           removal
           of
           his
           Judgments
           ,
           and
           restoring
           of
           Health
           ,
           and
           Peace
           ,
           and
           Prosperity
           to
           us
           ,
           and
           we
           may
           flatter
           our selves
           with
           hopes
           of
           seeing
           good
           days
           again
           ;
           yet
           otherwise
           than
           on
           the
           foundation
           of
           our
           Repentance
           and
           better
           Obedience
           ,
           can
           we
           build
           no
           assurance
           of
           setled
           Prosperity
           for
           the
           future
           ;
           for
           should
           it
           now
           clear
           up
           ,
           yet
           another
           cloud
           may
           soon
           rise
           ,
           if
           we
           still
           provoke
           the
           God
           of
           Heaven
           .
        
         
           And
           therefore
           I
           proceed
           to
           add
           an
           Hortatory
           part
           ,
           perswading
           to
           Repentance
           and
           Obedience
           to
           Gods
           Laws
           ,
           as
           the
           most
           certain
           cure
           of
           our
           Calamities
           ,
           and
           sure
           way
           to
           have
           better
           times
           ,
           which
           ,
           (
           if
           (
           as
           we
           hope
           )
           our
           woes
           are
           in
           a
           manner
           past
           ,
           yet
           )
           may
           be
           of
           good
           use
           to
           us
           all
           for
           the
           securing
           us
           in
           a
           flourishing
           condition
           for
           time
           to
           come
           ,
           the
           Prosperity
           of
           any
           People
           usually
           ebbing
           and
           flowing
           with
           their
           Piety
           and
           Virtue
           .
        
         
           And
           so
           at
           last
           ,
           I
           add
           a
           Consolatory
           Part
           as
           a
           Cordial
           for
           to
           chear
           the
           penitent
           and
           humble
           ,
           introducing
           there
           ,
           the
           Historical
           Relation
           of
           our
           War
           omitted
           in
           the
           First
           Part.
           
        
         
         
           The
           three
           first
           Parts
           I
           have
           composed
           in
           a
           familiar
           kind
           of
           compleat
           Verse
           ,
           as
           being
           for
           the
           most
           part
           Reprehensive
           ,
           and
           Hortatory
           ,
           therein
           condescending
           to
           the
           meanest
           capacities
           ,
           as
           meant
           for
           the
           use
           and
           benefit
           of
           all
           :
           In
           the
           last
           ,
           where
           the
           Subject
           is
           more
           Heroick
           ,
           suitably
           I
           use
           quattrains
           closing
           the
           sense
           with
           a
           compleat
           ,
           and
           rise
           to
           a
           little
           higher
           ,
           though
           not
           aiming
           (
           if
           I
           could
           attain
           it
           )
           at
           a
           lofty
           strain
           :
           I
           seek
           where
           to
           make
           my
           Verse
           serve
           my
           Subject
           ,
           and
           not
           subject
           my
           nobler
           matter
           to
           my
           Metre
           .
        
         
           Now
           candid
           Reader
           ,
           I
           hope
           the
           sincerity
           and
           integrity
           of
           my
           Design
           in
           this
           Work
           may
           obtain
           an
           Apology
           for
           any
           defects
           in
           the
           management
           ▪
           and
           the
           Divinity
           excuse
           the
           want
           of
           Phansie
           :
           I
           do
           more
           than
           suspect
           I
           shall
           fall
           under
           the
           censure
           of
           seduced
           Sectaries
           ,
           though
           piously
           affected
           ,
           because
           I
           tax
           their
           Errors
           ;
           of
           Vitious
           persons
           ,
           though
           loyal
           and
           conformable
           ,
           because
           I
           tax
           their
           vices
           ;
           of
           Hypocrites
           ,
           especially
           such
           as
           mask
           traiterous
           and
           factious
           designs
           with
           pious
           pretences
           to
           seduce
           the
           People
           ,
           because
           I
           lay
           them
           open
           to
           the
           world
           ,
           
             furtivis
             nudatos
             coloribus
          
           ,
           and
           tax
           their
           villanies
           ,
           however
           palliated
           ,
           as
           contributing
           to
           our
           Calamities
           :
           But
           my
           Prayer
           to
           God
           is
           ,
           that
           he
           would
           open
           all
           their
           eyes
           and
           turn
           their
           hearts
           ,
           the
           first
           to
           follow
           after
           Truth
           ,
           the
           second
           Holiness
           ,
           and
           the
           third
           sort
           the
           Truth
           of
           Holiness
           ,
           then
           I
           am
           sure
           we
           should
           be
           a
           flourishing
           Church
           and
           Nation
           .
        
         
         
           If
           thou
           blame
           me
           (
           Reader
           )
           for
           any
           where
           ripping
           up
           old
           sores
           ,
           I
           will
           assure
           thee
           I
           do
           not
           otherwise
           than
           for
           fear
           that
           false
           Prophets
           have
           healed
           the
           hurt
           of
           the
           Daughter
           of
           our
           People
           slightly
           ,
           to
           let
           out
           the
           corruption
           the
           right
           way
           by
           Repentance
           ,
           lest
           they
           fester
           and
           break
           inwardly
           and
           kill
           their
           souls
           .
           If
           thou
           complain
           of
           rough
           handling
           ,
           know
           it
           is
           done
           with
           a
           Chirurgeons
           heart
           ,
           to
           heal
           and
           not
           wound
           :
           and
           if
           my
           Patient
           cry
           out
           of
           me
           in
           searching
           his
           sore
           as
           an
           Enemy
           ,
           I
           am
           well
           assured
           if
           he
           would
           suffer
           the
           cure
           ,
           he
           would
           acknowledge
           me
           in
           the
           end
           to
           be
           his
           friend
           :
           and
           when
           in
           searching
           thy
           sore
           I
           touch
           thee
           to
           the
           quick
           ,
           lay
           thine
           hand
           on
           thine
           own
           heart
           confessing
           thy
           corruption
           and
           sin
           ,
           rather
           than
           stretch
           out
           that
           ,
           or
           move
           thy
           tongue
           to
           smite
           me
           who
           only
           mean
           thy
           health
           ,
           and
           welfare
           .
        
         
           Read
           on
           ,
           and
           the
           sweetness
           of
           Consolation
           at
           last
           will
           allay
           the
           tartness
           of
           Reprehension
           before
           :
           nauseate
           therefore
           nothing
           herein
           ,
           since
           all
           will
           do
           thee
           good
           ,
           if
           thou
           with
           candor
           receive
           and
           digest
           it
           .
           Accept
           then
           kindly
           what
           is
           intended
           sincerely
           for
           Gods
           ,
           thy
           Souls
           ,
           and
           this
           Nations
           glory
           from
           him
           who
           is
        
         
           
             
               Thine
               in
               the
               Lord
               Jesus
            
             ,
             John
             Tabor
             .
          
        
      
       
         
         
           To
           the
           Reader
           .
        
         
           REader
           suspend
           thy
           Censure
           ,
           till
           thou
           run
        
         
           The
           whole
           Book
           over
           ,
           and
           when
           that
           is
           done
           :
        
         
           The
           Author's
           meaning
           rightly
           understood
           ;
        
         
           That
           his
           Design
           ,
           if
           not
           his
           Verse
           ,
           is
           good
           ,
        
         
           I
           doubt
           not
           thou
           wilt
           say
           ;
           and
           when
           you
           see
           :
        
         
           He
           layes
           our
           Woes
           on
           our
           Impietie
           :
        
         
           Think
           not
           one
           Sin
           ,
           or
           Party
           he
           alone
        
         
           Doth
           here
           accuse
           ,
           but
           all
           and
           every
           one
           :
        
         
           Assure
           thy self
           the
           Author
           doth
           designe
           ,
        
         
           That
           Times
           may
           mend
           ,
           to
           mend
           his
           heart
           ,
           and
           thine
           .
        
      
       
         
         
           
             Curteous
             Reader
             .
          
        
         
           Before
           thou
           peruse
           this
           Book
           ,
           I
           intreat
           thee
           ,
           for
           thine
           own
           sake
           ,
           to
           turn
           to
           and
           correct
           or
           supply
           with
           thy
           Pen
           ,
           these
           mistakes
           and
           omissions
           of
           the
           Printer
           ,
           and
           let
           not
           his
           Errors
           be
           imputed
           to
           the
           Author
           ,
           who
           fears
           some
           will
           judge
           he
           hath
           enough
           herein
           to
           answer
           for
           of
           his
           own
           ,
           but
           desires
           thou
           wilt
           courteously
           mend
           the
           Printers
           ,
           and
           candidly
           forgive
           his
        
         
           
             Errata
             .
          
           In
           the
           Epistle
           to
           the
           Reader
           page
           4.
           line
           2.
           
           &
           7.
           for
           compleat
           r.
           
             couplet
             ,
             l.
          
           9.
           before
           where
           add
           every
           .
           in
           the
           Poem
           p.
           17.
           l.
           10.
           for
           Chelmford
           r.
           Chelmsford
           ,
           p.
           21.
           l.
           17.
           for
           then
           r.
           thence
           ,
           p.
           25.
           l.
           2
           before
           stuffe
           add
           their
           ,
           pag.
           30.
           that
           which
           is
           under
           an
           asterism
           in
           the
           margent
           refers
           to
           the
           asterism
           upon
           Lud
           in
           the
           next
           page
           ;
           and
           the
           asterism
           in
           the
           margent
           p.
           31.
           answers
           to
           this
           on
           Brute
           ,
           p.
           30.
           p.
           32.
           l.
           25.
           for
           land
           r.
           laud
           ,
           p.
           33.
           for
           lately
           r.
           late
           ,
           p.
           36.
           l.
           21.
           before
           mere
           blot
           out
           are
           ,
           p.
           37.
           l.
           11.
           before
           him
           blot
           out
           of
           ,
           &
           l.
           14.
           for
           swettest
           r.
           sweetest
           ,
           p.
           38.
           l.
           7.
           for
           to
           r.
           too
           ,
           p.
           44.
           l.
           12.
           for
           first
           r.
           first
           's
           ,
           p.
           50.
           l.
           8.
           for
           religious
           r.
           religions
           ,
           p.
           56.
           l.
           7.
           before
           glory
           add
           
             bliss
             and
          
           ,
           p.
           62.
           l.
           19.
           for
           convey
           r.
           conveys
           ,
           pag.
           63.
           l.
           2.
           before
           please
           blot
           out
           doth
           .
           p.
           66.
           l.
           28.
           for
           sottishness
           r.
           foolishness
           ,
           p.
           80.
           in
           marginal
           note
           for
           countries
           r.
           
             country
             as
          
           .
           p.
           81.
           l.
           16.
           for
           own
           r.
           one
           .
        
      
    
     
       
         
         Seasonable
         Thoughts
         IN
         SAD
         TIMES
         .
      
       
         
           Reflections
           on
           the
           War.
           
        
         
           WHere
           e're
           I
           go
           ,
           the
           sighing
           Air
           rebounds
        
         
           Sad
           Ecchoes
           to
           my
           heart
           ,
           and
           doleful
           sounds
        
         
           Of
           Lamentation
           :
           still
           the
           Plague
           and
           War
           ,
        
         
           In
           ev'ry
           place
           ,
           the
           talk
           of
           all
           mouths
           are
           .
        
         
           The
           Funeral
           Knells
           continually
           ring
        
         
           In
           mortal
           ears
           ,
           and
           thundering
           Guns
           do
           sing
        
         
           In
           the
           reporting
           Air
           ,
           by
           both
           are
           brought
        
         
           Nothing
           but
           death
           ,
           and
           slaughter
           to
           our
           thought
           .
        
         
           Death
           rules
           at
           Land
           ,
           devouring
           as
           he
           please
           ;
        
         
           And
           sight
           who
           will
           ,
           he
           's
           Master
           on
           the
           Seas
           ,
        
         
           Thousands
           at
           Land
           away
           he
           weekly
           sweeps
           ,
        
         
           By
           Sea
           he
           Hundreds
           swallows
           in
           the
           deeps
           .
        
         
           From
           one
           poor
           City
           ,
           in
           few
           months
           he
           hurl'd
        
         
           So
           many
           thousands
           to
           another
           World
           ;
        
         
         
           As
           against
           this
           would
           a
           stout
           Army
           be
           :
        
         
           Unsatiate
           yet
           ,
           in
           Town
           ,
           and
           Country
           ,
           he
        
         
           Hath
           slain
           so
           many
           Thousands
           ,
           as
           might
           serve
        
         
           An
           Alexander
           ,
           for
           a
           sure
           reserve
           ,
        
         
           If
           to
           content
           his
           great
           ambitious
           mind
           ,
        
         
           Another
           World
           to
           conquer
           he
           could
           find
           :
        
         
           These
           are
           the
           dire
           effects
           (
           Oh
           God!
           )
           of
           our
        
         
           Transgressions
           ,
           and
           thy
           just
           avenging
           pow'r
           .
        
         
           Did
           then
           the
           
             Persian
             Cyrus
          
           ,
           from
           an
           Hill
        
         
           Beholding
           his
           huge
           Host
           ,
           his
           Eye-lids
           fill
        
         
           With
           brackish
           tears
           to
           think
           ,
           one
           age
           revol'd
           ,
        
         
           All
           those
           would
           into
           ashes
           be
           resolv'd
           ?
        
         
           And
           shall
           so
           many
           Christians
           in
           one
           year
           ,
        
         
           Be
           turn'd
           to
           dust
           ,
           and
           we
           not
           shed
           a
           tear
           ?
        
         
           O
           that
           my
           head
           a
           Fountain
           wore
           ,
           and
           I
        
         
           Could
           vent
           a
           stream
           of
           grief
           from
           either
           eye
           ,
        
         
           Weep
           ,
           and
           blot
           out
           of
           Sin
           the
           crimson
           stain
           ,
        
         
           Whereby
           the
           Daughter
           of
           my
           People
           's
           slain
           !
        
         
           Sometimes
           I
           sit
           in
           pensive
           posture
           ,
           and
        
         
           Form
           sad
           Ideas
           of
           the
           Sea
           ,
           and
           Land.
        
         
           How
           while
           the
           proud
           insulting
           Dutch
           ,
           and
           we
        
         
           Contend
           in
           dreadful
           Fights
           for
           Masterie
           :
        
         
           Hell
           opes
           her
           mouth
           ,
           and
           in
           few
           hours
           receives
        
         
           Such
           crouds
           of
           Souls
           ,
           as
           no
           time
           ere
           retrieves
           :
        
         
           Of
           Bodies
           such
           huge
           numbers
           sinking
           then
           ,
        
         
           As
           threaten
           to
           Earth
           up
           the
           Sea
           with
           men
           .
        
         
           So
           that
           our
           Ships
           may
           for
           the
           future
           strand
        
         
           On
           shelves
           of
           bodies
           ,
           not
           on
           shelves
           of
           sand
           .
        
         
         
           Methinks
           I
           see
           the
           swelling
           billows
           boil
           ,
        
         
           Heat
           by
           the
           fire
           doth
           from
           the
           Guns
           recoil
           :
        
         
           The
           roaring
           Guns
           which
           pierce
           the
           parting
           air
           ,
        
         
           With
           terror
           we
           on
           Land
           far
           distant
           hear
        
         
           They
           shake
           the
           massie
           Earth
           ,
           and
           thunder
           like
           ,
        
         
           Houses
           ,
           and
           Windows
           into
           trembling
           strike
           :
        
         
           And
           each
           broad
           side
           which
           strikes
           my
           ear
           ,
           I
           think
           ,
        
         
           Now
           a
           brave
           Ship
           with
           braver
           Men
           doth
           sink
           .
        
         
           Enraged
           Mortals
           striving
           to
           out-vie
           ,
        
         
           Thunder
           ,
           and
           Lightning
           in
           the
           lofty
           skie
        
         
           Darken
           the
           air
           with
           smoak
           ,
           but
           fire
           gives
           light
           ,
        
         
           Or
           they
           at
           noon-day
           would
           scarce
           see
           to
           sight
           .
        
         
           Blood
           from
           the
           reeking
           Decks
           into
           the
           Main
        
         
           Pours
           down
           ,
           like
           water
           in
           a
           showr
           of
           Rain
           ,
        
         
           Discolouring
           the
           Ocean
           by
           its
           fall
           ,
        
         
           As
           if
           't
           would
           turn
           it
           to
           a
           Red-Sea
           all
           .
        
         
           Fire-ships
           set
           all
           on
           flames
           ,
           and
           make
           a
           show
           ,
        
         
           As
           Subterranean
           fires
           were
           from
           below
           ,
        
         
           Broke
           through
           the
           waves
           :
           and
           one
           would
           think
           no
           doubt
           ,
        
         
           Fire
           strove
           to
           drink
           up
           Sea
           ,
           Sea
           to
           quench
           out
        
         
           The
           fire
           ,
           and
           men
           by
           their
           contentious
           action
           ,
        
         
           Put
           all
           the
           Elements
           into
           distraction
           :
        
         
           But
           themselves
           rue
           most
           ,
           while
           the
           bloody
           sight
        
         
           Gives
           blood
           to
           them
           ,
           who
           do
           in
           war
           delight
           .
        
         
           Now
           on
           the
           Decks
           some
           shriek
           with
           painful
        
         
           And
           others
           sinking
           are
           in
           deadly
           swounds
           :
           wounds
           ,
        
         
           Here
           a
           Commander
           falls
           ,
           th'
           Opponents
           hollow
           ,
        
         
           The
           Souldiers
           soon
           in
           death
           their
           Leader
           follow
           :
        
         
         
           Here
           from
           torn
           shoulder
           flies
           an
           arm
           ,
           and
           there
        
         
           From
           shatter'd
           thigh
           a
           leg
           the
           bullets
           tear
           :
        
         
           Here
           wags
           a
           head
           off
           ,
           this
           mans
           brains
           are
           dasht
        
         
           Full
           in
           the
           next
           mans
           face
           ,
           his
           bowels
           pasht
        
         
           On
           his
           next
           neighbour
           ,
           and
           a
           third
           is
           found
           ,
        
         
           Groaning
           his
           soul
           out
           at
           a
           wide-mouth'd
           wound
           .
        
         
           Here
           Bullets
           force
           drives
           a
           heart
           out
           ,
           which
           dies
        
         
           To
           mortals
           rage
           a
           bloody
           Sacrifice
           :
        
         
           There
           a
           head
           from
           the
           bloody
           neck
           is
           rent
           ,
        
         
           Mounting
           as
           if
           to
           hit
           the
           Sun
           it
           meant
           ;
        
         
           Thus
           the
           Dutch
           heads
           we
           well
           may
           wish
           to
           rise
           ,
        
         
           And
           be
           lift
           up
           ,
           above
           their
           Enemies
           .
        
         
           But
           I
           had
           rather
           we
           ,
           and
           they
           in
           Peace
        
         
           Might
           live
           ,
           and
           War
           might
           from
           all
           Nations
           cease
        
         
           Had
           not
           Astraea
           left
           the
           Earth
           ,
           and
           rage
        
         
           Possest
           mens
           bosomes
           in
           this
           Iron
           age
           :
        
         
           Had
           not
           sin
           first
           divided
           men
           from
           God
           ,
        
         
           Then
           from
           themselves
           ,
           scattering
           all
           abroad
        
         
           To
           seek
           new
           Countries
           ,
           all
           had
           still
           been
           one
        
         
           Language
           ,
           and
           People
           ,
           letting
           Warr
           alone
           .
        
         
           Sin
           is
           the
           onely
           make-bate
           in
           the
           World
           ,
        
         
           That
           hath
           all
           things
           into
           Contention
           hurl'd
           :
        
         
           But
           since
           the
           Prince
           of
           Peace
           his
           happy
           birth
           ,
        
         
           Who
           came
           to
           reconcile
           both
           things
           on
           Earth
           ,
        
         
           And
           things
           in
           Heaven
           ,
           methinks
           those
           who
           professe
           ,
        
         
           Themselves
           his
           Subjects
           ,
           from
           all
           wars
           should
           cease
           :
        
         
           One
           faith
           should
           be
           of
           force
           hearts
           to
           unite
           ,
        
         
           In
           love
           as
           much
           as
           e're
           one
           language
           might
           :
        
         
         
           The
           second
           Adam
           should
           all
           his
           restore
        
         
           To
           the
           same
           concord
           ,
           which
           they
           had
           before
        
         
           By
           nature
           in
           the
           first
           ,
           and
           not
           pursue
        
         
           Their
           Christian
           Brethren
           ,
           like
           a
           Turk
           ,
           or
           Jew
           .
        
         
           But
           what
           a
           grief
           't
           is
           to
           good
           hearts
           ,
           to
           see
        
         
           Christians
           among
           themselves
           thus
           disagree
           :
        
         
           And
           those
           ,
           for
           whom
           Christ
           spilt
           his
           blood
           &
           life
           ,
        
         
           To
           shed
           each
           others
           blood
           in
           lust
           ,
           and
           strife
           :
        
         
           That
           those
           ,
           who
           when
           they
           go
           to
           sight
           doe
           pray
        
         
           To
           the
           same
           God
           ,
           that
           each
           may
           have
           the
           day
           ,
        
         
           And
           both
           doe
           hope
           alike
           in
           death
           to
           be
        
         
           Translated
           hence
           to
           Heavens
           felicitie
           ,
        
         
           Should
           one
           another
           with
           such
           fury
           kill
           ;
        
         
           And
           r●uch
           rejoyce
           each
           others
           blood
           to
           spill
           :
        
         
           Good
           Lord
           !
           how
           will
           Heav'n
           quietly
           hold
           those
        
         
           Souls
           ,
           who
           just
           now
           were
           here
           such
           deadly
           foes
           :
        
         
           If
           some
           of
           either
           side
           to
           Heav'n
           do
           come
           ,
        
         
           And
           both
           to
           Dutch
           ,
           and
           English
           be
           their
           home
           ,
        
         
           Could
           Heav'n
           admit
           repentance
           ,
           grief
           ,
           and
           sorrow
        
         
           Find
           a
           place
           there
           ,
           those
           souls
           would
           surely
           borrow
        
         
           Time
           from
           their
           heav'nly
           joys
           this
           to
           repent
           ,
        
         
           And
           their
           unchristian
           feuds
           below
           lament
           :
        
         
           Lament
           now
           Christians
           ,
           and
           leave
           of
           your
           slaughter
           ,
        
         
           There
           's
           no
           bewailing
           but
           in
           Hell
           hereafter
           .
        
         
           Yet
           't
           is
           to
           be
           bewail'd
           that
           such
           a
           slood
        
         
           By
           Christian
           hands
           is
           shed
           of
           Christian
           blood
           .
        
         
           Thus
           we
           contend
           to
           blood
           ,
           but
           all
           the
           while
        
         
           The
           holy
           Spirit
           grieves
           ,
           and
           Devils
           smile
           ,
        
         
         
           All
           the
           good
           Angels
           too
           are
           grieved
           for
           't
           ,
        
         
           But
           your
           Contention
           makes
           the
           Devils
           sport
           ;
        
         
           And
           the
           slain
           carkases
           of
           Christians
           drest
        
         
           In
           blood
           ,
           and
           wounds
           ,
           make
           Lucifer
           a
           Feast
           :
        
         
           And
           at
           these
           broils
           the
           Infidels
           do
           laugh
           ,
        
         
           Christians
           should
           weep
           ,
           but
           yet
           the
           most
           do
           quaff
           :
        
         
           Such
           direful
           deeds
           just
           God
           thou
           sufferest
           ,
        
         
           Sinners
           for
           their
           transgressions
           to
           infest
           :
        
         
           In
           times
           when
           blood
           ,
           and
           wounds
           make
           such
           ado
           ;
        
         
           O
           that
           our
           hearts
           were
           rightly
           wounded
           too
           !
        
         
           And
           with
           just
           grief
           could
           bleed
           as
           fast
           as
           those
        
         
           Poor
           hearts
           ,
           who
           have
           been
           pierced
           by
           their
           foes
           .
        
         
           Slack
           Christians
           ,
           slack
           your
           fury
           !
           and
           employ
        
         
           Your
           noble
           Valour
           for
           a
           Victory
        
         
           More
           worthy
           praise
           ,
           than
           any
           you
           can
           gain
        
         
           By
           numbers
           of
           your
           Christian
           Brethren
           slain
           .
        
         
           You
           Souldiers
           by
           Profession
           are
           ,
           your
           life
        
         
           A
           warfare
           ,
           and
           you
           must
           here
           live
           in
           strife
           :
        
         
           But
           't
           is
           a
           strife
           more
           with
           your selves
           than
           others
           ,
        
         
           '
           Gainst
           certain
           foes
           ,
           and
           not
           your
           Christian
           brothers
           .
        
         
           The
           World
           ,
           the
           Flesh
           ,
           the
           Devil
           ,
           these
           are
           those
        
         
           You
           must
           still
           combate
           with
           ,
           as
           mortal
           foes
        
         
           To
           your
           immortal
           bliss
           ;
           and
           these
           will
           find
        
         
           Tough
           work
           enough
           for
           the
           most
           warlike
           mind
           :
        
         
           But
           while
           with
           Christian
           men
           we
           do
           contest
           ,
        
         
           We
           cherish
           ,
           and
           serve
           these
           foes
           in
           our
           brest
           :
        
         
           The
           World
           rejoyces
           ,
           Devil
           takes
           delight
           ,
        
         
           Lusts
           of
           the
           flesh
           are
           pleas'd
           when
           Christians
           sight
           .
        
         
         
           Le
           ts
           turn
           our
           force
           then
           against
           them
           ,
           and
           shew
        
         
           What
           noble
           acts
           our
           Valour
           there
           can
           do
           ;
        
         
           The
           Lord
           of
           Hosts
           our
           Captain
           is
           ,
           and
           will
        
         
           With
           Armour
           furnish
           you
           ,
           courage
           ,
           and
           skill
           :
        
         
           You
           need
           not
           doubt
           success
           at
           all
           ,
           for
           he
        
         
           Who
           fights
           Gods
           battails
           shall
           have
           Victorie
           :
        
         
           One
           lust
           subdued
           will
           you
           more
           glory
           gain
           ,
        
         
           Than
           he
           whose
           single
           Arm
           an
           Host
           hath
           slain
           .
        
         
           For
           't
           is
           more
           honour
           ,
           to
           o're-come
           within
        
         
           Our selves
           our
           lusts
           ,
           than
           Cities
           wall'd
           to
           win
           .
        
         
           Great
           Alexander
           ,
           who
           subdued
           all
           Nations
           ,
        
         
           Continued
           slave
           still
           to
           his
           lustful
           Passions
           .
        
         
           Be
           of
           good
           courage
           then
           ,
           subdue
           your
           sin
           ,
        
         
           And
           an
           eternal
           Crown
           ,
           and
           Kingdom
           win
           :
        
         
           Or
           if
           the
           Warriours
           spirit
           can't
           be
           laid
           ,
        
         
           But
           it
           will
           still
           in
           blood
           ,
           and
           slaughter
           trade
        
         
           Let
           Christians
           valiant
           ,
           and
           victorious
           arm
           ,
        
         
           Turn
           to
           do
           Turks
           ,
           and
           Infidels
           the
           harm
        
         
           Which
           now
           amongst
           our selves
           ,
           we
           daily
           feel
           ,
        
         
           And
           let
           the
           Heathen
           fall
           upon
           our
           Steel
           !
        
         
           There
           might
           be
           rais'd
           another
           holy
           War
           ,
        
         
           More
           truly
           holy
           ,
           than
           the
           first
           by
           far
           :
        
         
           Not
           to
           get
           Canaan
           ,
           a
           Land
           accurst
        
         
           As
           well
           for
           Jews
           ,
           as
           Canaanites
           at
           first
           :
        
         
           But
           the
           insulting
           Sultan
           to
           restrain
           ;
        
         
           Who
           hath
           so
           many
           thousand
           Christians
           slain
           ;
        
         
           And
           with
           his
           Hundred
           Thousands
           oft
           doth
           come
        
         
           Pouring
           destruction
           into
           Christendome
           ,
        
         
         
           Forraging
           ,
           wasting
           all
           with
           Fire
           ,
           and
           Sword
           ,
        
         
           Defying
           ,
           and
           blaspheming
           Christ
           our
           Lord.
        
         
           Leading
           away
           such
           as
           the
           Sword
           doth
           spare
           ,
        
         
           Into
           a
           bondage
           worse
           than
           death
           by
           far
           :
        
         
           O
           that
           all
           Christian
           Princes
           could
           agree
        
         
           To
           hamper
           this
           Leviathan
           ,
           and
           free
           ,
        
         
           From
           his
           outragious
           Inroades
           ,
           all
           those
           Borders
        
         
           Of
           Christendom
           ,
           where
           he
           commits
           his
           murders
           .
        
         
           The
           Asiatick
           Churches
           when
           I
           think
           upon
        
         
           Mention'd
           in
           Saint
           
           John's
           Revelation
           :
        
         
           Oh
           how
           it
           grieves
           my
           heart
           !
           to
           think
           that
           there
           ,
        
         
           Where
           sometimes
           famous
           Christian
           Churches
           were
        
         
           Now
           
             Turkish
             Mosques
          
           do
           stand
           ,
           &
           men
           adore
           ,
        
         
           The
           Imposture
           Mahomet
           ,
           where
           Christ
           before
           .
        
         
           And
           those
           who
           yet
           retain
           a
           Christian
           name
           ,
        
         
           Have
           little
           else
           of
           Christ
           ,
           beside
           the
           same
           :
        
         
           Their
           low
           estate
           allows
           no
           means
           to
           gain
        
         
           Such
           knowledge
           ,
           as
           is
           needful
           to
           retain
           ,
        
         
           Religion
           pure
           and
           perfect
           :
           Besides
           ,
           must
           they
        
         
           To
           this
           great
           Turk
           the
           tenth
           child
           yearly
           pay
           .
        
         
           The
           tenth
           is
           due
           (
           O
           God!
           )
           to
           thee
           alone
           ,
        
         
           And
           must
           an
           Infidel
           thy
           tribute
           owne
           ?
        
         
           This
           woe
           of
           all
           their
           woes
           is
           worst
           ,
           to
           see
        
         
           Their
           dearest
           children
           educated
           be
        
         
           In
           blinder
           Turcism
           ,
           made
           his
           Janizars
           ,
        
         
           Chief
           Souldiers
           against
           Christians
           in
           his
           Wars
           .
        
         
           When
           cruel
           Herod
           mockt
           of
           the
           Wisemen
           slew
        
         
           So
           many
           Infants
           ,
           he
           did
           kindness
           shew
           ,
        
         
         
           Compared
           to
           this
           Turkish
           Tyranny
           ;
        
         
           For
           't
           is
           a
           greater
           priviledge
           to
           die
        
         
           Innocent
           Martyrs
           ,
           and
           go
           hence
           to
           glory
           ,
        
         
           Than
           to
           be
           train'd
           up
           in
           the
           cosening
           story
        
         
           Of
           Mahomet
           :
           Poor
           babes
           !
           at
           once
           must
           you
        
         
           Be
           from
           Christs
           bosome
           ,
           and
           your
           Parents
           too
           ,
        
         
           By
           Tyrants-force
           thus
           miserably
           torn
           ?
        
         
           Better
           it
           were
           you
           never
           had
           been
           born
           .
        
         
           Let
           us
           reflect
           ,
           and
           think
           did
           we
           now
           hear
        
         
           The
           approaching
           feet
           of
           Turkish
           Officer
           ,
        
         
           Entring
           to
           take
           away
           our
           darling
           child
           ,
        
         
           Oh
           what
           a
           plight
           should
           we
           be
           in
           ?
           how
           wild
           ,
        
         
           And
           quite
           beside
           themselves
           ,
           would
           surely
           be
        
         
           The
           tender
           Mothers
           of
           the
           Infantry
           ?
        
         
           Who
           ,
           that
           their
           senses
           have
           ,
           would
           not
           desire
        
         
           To
           see
           their
           tender
           Infants
           soul
           expire
           ,
        
         
           His
           brains
           dasht
           on
           the
           wall
           before
           his
           eyes
           ,
        
         
           And
           how
           the
           sprawling
           Corpse
           convulsing
           dies
           ,
        
         
           Rather
           than
           such
           should
           us
           of
           them
           bereave
           ,
        
         
           In
           thraldom
           ,
           and
           Idolatry
           to
           live
           ?
        
         
           But
           who
           do
           think
           on
           this
           with
           pity
           ,
           and
        
         
           Deplores
           not
           the
           sad
           state
           of
           Grecian
           Land
           ?
        
         
           Now
           then
           it
           were
           a
           noble
           enterprise
           ,
        
         
           If
           Christian
           Princes
           hearts
           ,
           and
           Arms
           would
           rise
           ,
        
         
           To
           pull
           down
           this
           proud
           Sultan
           ,
           and
           restore
        
         
           The
           Christian
           Faith
           where
           't
           flourished
           before
           ;
        
         
           And
           free
           afflicted
           Greece
           ,
           once
           the
           Worlds
           eye
        
         
           From
           Turkish
           thraldom
           ,
           and
           Idolatry
           ;
        
         
         
           And
           all
           those
           Christian
           souls
           which
           yearly
           come
        
         
           Tribute
           ,
           and
           Captives
           from
           poor
           Christendome
           .
        
         
           If
           th'
           English
           and
           Dutch
           Fleer
           would
           both
           combine
           ,
        
         
           T'
           assist
           the
           bold
           Venetian
           ,
        
         
           Worthy
           of
           Christian
           Valour
           )
           they
           would
           make
           a
           designe
        
         
           The
           Vaunting
           Seigniour
           with
           his
           Gallies
           quake
           :
        
         
           If
           throughout
           all
           Christendom
           were
           more
        
         
           (
           Like
           those
           brave
           Knights
           of
           Malta
           ,
           who
           have
           swore
        
         
           Destruction
           to
           the
           Turks
           )
           that
           would
           combine
        
         
           Quite
           to
           raze
           out
           the
           bloody
           Ottoman
           line
           :
        
         
           Then
           Christendome
           might
           flourish
           ,
           and
           be
           free
        
         
           From
           Devastation
           ,
           and
           Captivitie
           .
        
         
           God
           grant
           us
           Peace
           at
           home
           ,
           and
           send
        
         
           Us
           Victory
           abroad
           ,
           and
           end
        
         
           All
           Wars
           'mong
           Christian
           men
           ,
           and
           cease
        
         
           The
           Plague
           his
           War
           with
           men
           ;
           In
           peace
           ,
        
         
           And
           health
           grant
           us
           to
           live
           ,
           that
           we
        
         
           Might
           still
           a
           happy
           Kingdom
           be
           .
        
         
           But
           though
           the
           Lord
           in
           War
           on
           our
           side
           stood
           ,
        
         
           And
           gave
           us
           Victory
           for
           the
           price
           of
           blood
           ,
        
         
           Allaying
           this
           sore
           Judgment
           by
           success
           ,
        
         
           Which
           in
           the
           loss
           of
           lives
           makes
           grief
           go
           less
           :
        
         
           Yet
           the
           Plague
           raging
           far
           and
           nigh
           ,
           destroyes
        
         
           With
           sweeping
           slaughter
           ,
           and
           doth
           damp
           our
           joys
           :
        
         
           This
           casts
           my
           soul
           into
           a
           sad
           Reflection
           ,
        
         
           On
           the
           just
           Vengeance
           of
           such
           dire
           Infection
           .
        
      
       
         
         
           REFLECTIONS
           ON
           THE
           PESTILENCE
           .
        
         
           
             
               JER
               .
               9.9
               .
            
             
               Shall
               I
               not
               visit
               them
               for
               these
               things
               saith
               the
               Lord
               ?
               Shall
               not
               my
               soul
               be
               avenged
               on
               such
               a
               Nation
               as
               this
               ?
            
          
        
         
           WHen
           the
           just
           God
           did
           visit
           London
           first
           ,
        
         
           Our
           danger
           less
           ,
           our
           fears
           were
           at
           the
           worst
           :
        
         
           In
           every
           place
           men
           stood
           upon
           their
           guard
           ,
        
         
           And
           against
           Citizens
           kept
           Watch
           ,
           and
           Ward
           :
        
         
           Had
           we
           done
           so
           against
           our
           sins
           before
           ,
        
         
           Less
           had
           our
           danger
           been
           ,
           our
           safety
           more
           :
        
         
           But
           when
           this
           dire
           Destruction
           still
           doth
           last
           ,
        
         
           And
           round
           about
           us
           fearfully
           doth
           wast
           ;
        
         
           Harden'd
           by
           custom
           ,
           we
           do
           nothing
           fear
           :
        
         
           Our
           dangers
           greater
           ,
           but
           who
           sheds
           a
           tear
           ?
        
         
           Our
           hearts
           are
           stone
           ,
           were
           they
           of
           marble
           kind
        
         
           'T
           were
           well
           ,
           marble
           sometimes
           we
           weeping
           find
           .
        
         
           On
           the
           great
           City
           of
           this
           sinful
           Land
        
         
           London
           ,
           with
           wealth
           ,
           and
           folk
           ,
           abounding
           ,
           and
        
         
           With
           sin
           ,
           the
           cause
           of
           woe
           too
           ,
           God
           first
           pour'd
        
         
           The
           brimful
           Vial
           of
           his
           wrath
           ,
           and
           showr'd
        
         
         
           His
           ireful
           Judgments
           :
           There
           his
           Angel
           drew
        
         
           The
           Sword
           of
           Vengeance
           ,
           and
           that
           people
           slew
           ,
        
         
           At
           first
           by
           Tens
           ,
           which
           soon
           to
           Hundreds
           come
           ,
        
         
           Then
           Thousands
           weekly
           sent
           to
           their
           long-home
           .
        
         
           The
           frighted
           Citizens
           begin
           to
           fly
        
         
           From
           House
           ,
           and
           Habitation
           ,
           lest
           they
           die
           :
        
         
           They
           leave
           their
           livelyhood
           to
           save
           their
           life
           ;
        
         
           And
           where
           they
           come
           ,
           their
           coming
           makes
           a
           strife
           .
        
         
           Lest
           they
           bring
           death
           with
           them
           ,
           Towns
           are
           in
           arms
        
         
           To
           keep
           out
           Citizens
           ,
           as
           mortal
           harms
           :
        
         
           Waggons
           ,
           and
           Coaches
           still
           in
           every
           Road
        
         
           Are
           met
           with
           ,
           which
           they
           ,
           and
           their
           Goods
           do
           load
           :
        
         
           Where
           they
           shall
           shelter
           find
           ,
           they
           scarce
           do
           know
           ,
        
         
           Yet
           durst
           not
           stay
           at
           home
           ,
           where
           e're
           they
           go
           .
        
         
           Some
           who
           did
           thure
           in
           stately
           Houses
           dwell
           ,
        
         
           Now
           gladly
           creep
           into
           a
           Countrey-cell
           :
        
         
           And
           others
           wandering
           up
           and
           down
           the
           Fields
           ;
        
         
           No
           Town
           ,
           or
           Village
           them
           admittance
           yields
           :
        
         
           Thus
           from
           the
           Rod
           of
           God
           poor
           Sinners
           fly
           ,
        
         
           Not
           from
           their
           Crimes
           ,
           for
           which
           they
           smart
           ,
           &
           die
           .
        
         
           Alas
           !
           what
           boots
           it
           from
           the
           Plague
           to
           start
           ,
        
         
           And
           bear
           with
           you
           a
           worse
           Plague
           in
           your
           heart
           ?
        
         
           Running
           will
           not
           secure
           you
           ,
           you
           're
           undone
           ,
        
         
           Unless
           you
           know
           how
           from
           your selves
           to
           run
           :
        
         
           Had
           you
           your selves
           forsaken
           ,
           when
           at
           home
           ,
        
         
           You
           need
           not
           thus
           about
           the
           Countrey
           roame
           .
        
         
           Had
           you
           fled
           from
           your
           Sins
           before
           as
           fast
           ,
        
         
           You
           need
           not
           from
           the
           Plague
           have
           made
           such
           hast
           .
        
         
         
           Had
           you
           been
           just
           ,
           and
           honest
           in
           your
           Trade
           ,
        
         
           To
           deal
           uprightly
           ,
           had
           a
           Conscience
           made
           ;
        
         
           False
           weights
           ,
           and
           measures
           ,
           and
           deceitful
           wares
           ,
           the
           snares
        
         
           False
           oaths
           ,
           equivocations
           ,
           lies
           ,
        
         
           For
           simple
           buyers
           ,
           )
           had
           you
           never
           us'd
           :
        
         
           Nor
           with
           great
           prizes
           Customers
           amus'd
           :
        
         
           For
           which
           i'
           th'
           Countrey
           you
           a
           Proverb
           are
           ;
        
         
           You
           ask
           ,
           say
           they
           ,
           just
           like
           a
           Londoner
           :
        
         
           Had
           not
           your
           Shops
           been
           Dens
           of
           such
           as
           theive
           ,
        
         
           And
           lie
           in
           wait
           cunningly
           to
           deceive
           ;
        
         
           Nay
           oftentimes
           your
           cosening
           with
           a
           shew
        
         
           Of
           honesty
           ,
           and
           goodness
           cloaked
           too
           :
        
         
           No
           Plague
           had
           likely
           nigh
           your
           dwellings
           come
           ;
        
         
           You
           might
           securely
           still
           have
           staid
           at
           home
           .
        
         
           Had
           you
           but
           kept
           your
           Conscience
           ,
           so
           you
           might
        
         
           Your
           Shops
           with
           comfort
           ,
           free
           from
           deadly
           fright
           :
        
         
           But
           when
           you
           turn
           out
           Conscience
           first
           ,
           no
           doubt
           ,
        
         
           Gods
           Judgments
           after
           't
           justly
           turn
           you
           out
           :
        
         
           And
           if
           you
           e're
           get
           home
           again
           ,
           beware
           !
        
         
           More
           Plagues
           in
           store
           for
           Sinners
           still
           there
           are
           :
        
         
           But
           for
           a
           while
           here
           they
           resolve
           to
           be
           ,
        
         
           Till
           London
           shall
           be
           from
           Contagion
           free
           :
        
         
           But
           there
           Contagion
           is
           ,
           from
           which
           ,
           I
           fear
        
         
           You
           'le
           never
           find
           the
           sinful
           City
           clean
           .
        
         
           But
           now
           le
           ts
           think
           on
           those
           who
           stay
           behind
           ,
        
         
           Distrest
           in
           Body
           ,
           and
           Estate
           ,
           and
           Mind
           :
        
         
           Who
           know
           not
           where
           to
           sly
           ,
           and
           fear
           to
           stay
           ;
        
         
           But
           yet
           must
           bear
           the
           burthen
           of
           the
           day
           ;
        
         
         
           A
           wrathful
           day
           ,
           a
           dismal
           time
           ,
           wherein
        
         
           Thousands
           receive
           the
           wages
           of
           their
           sin
           :
        
         
           Some
           have
           no
           Friends
           to
           go
           to
           ,
           nor
           yet
           Coin
        
         
           To
           make
           them
           any
           ,
           some
           the
           Laws
           enjoyn
        
         
           To
           stay
           ,
           and
           do
           their
           Office
           ,
           some
           presume
           ,
        
         
           And
           others
           trust
           no
           Plague
           shall
           them
           consume
           .
        
         
           But
           it
           increases
           ,
           spreads
           ,
           destroyes
           ,
           doth
           make
        
         
           Such
           as
           remain
           ,
           for
           fear
           of
           death
           to
           quake
           .
        
         
           Now
           might
           you
           see
           red
           Crosses
           there
           great
           store
           ,
        
         
           And
           Lord
           have
           mercy
           upon
           many
           a
           doore
           :
        
         
           The
           Wardsman
           standing
           ,
           as
           if
           he
           were
           sent
        
         
           Deaths
           Bayliffe
           to
           arrest
           the
           house
           for
           Rent
           ,
        
         
           And
           turn
           the
           dwellers
           out
           ;
           and
           sure
           I
           am
           ,
        
         
           But
           few
           could
           live
           long
           there
           after
           he
           came
           :
        
         
           Now
           Knells
           of
           death
           continually
           do
           ring
           ,
        
         
           And
           that
           same
           doleful
           sound
           of
           Buryers
           ,
           bring
        
         
           Your
           dead
           out
           ,
           mortal
           Ears
           with
           terror
           pierce
           ;
        
         
           And
           now
           a
           Cart
           becomes
           the
           only
           Hearse
        
         
           To
           bear
           a
           heap
           of
           bodies
           to
           their
           Grave
           ,
        
         
           Which
           neither
           Obsequies
           ,
           nor
           Rites
           can
           have
        
         
           Of
           Christian
           burial
           ,
           the
           best
           of
           all
        
         
           Have
           now
           no
           Friends
           attend
           their
           Funeral
           :
        
         
           No
           cost
           of
           Heirs
           ,
           no
           Mourners
           to
           be
           seen
           ,
        
         
           But
           driven
           in
           a
           Cart
           ,
           as
           they
           had
           been
        
         
           From
           hanging
           carry'd
           ,
           thrown
           into
           a
           pit
           ,
        
         
           No
           Priest
           to
           say
           ,
           Earth
           to
           Earth
           I
           commit
           .
        
         
           Now
           might
           you
           see
           all
           faces
           blackness
           gather
           ,
        
         
           The
           Son
           lamenting
           for
           his
           dying
           Father
           ,
        
         
         
           The
           Wife
           for
           her
           deceased
           Husband
           crying
           ,
        
         
           And
           Parents
           mourning
           for
           their
           Children
           dying
           :
        
         
           Now
           might
           you
           hear
           some
           from
           their
           windows
           cry
           ,
        
         
           Bread
           for
           the
           Lords
           sake
           ,
           or
           we
           starved
           die
           ;
        
         
           Groaning
           at
           once
           under
           two
           dismal
           woes
           ,
        
         
           The
           Plague
           ,
           and
           Famine
           ,
           both
           their
           deadly
           foes
           .
        
         
           Now
           Friends
           ,
           and
           Neighbours
           keep
           at
           distance
           ,
           fear
        
         
           T'
           approach
           their
           nearest
           Kindred
           ,
           for
           life's
           dear
           :
        
         
           The
           Father
           dreads
           to
           see
           his
           only
           Son
           ,
        
         
           The
           Son
           to
           see
           his
           Father
           too
           doth
           shun
           ,
        
         
           The
           Husband
           dreads
           his
           Wife
           ,
           whom
           he
           with
           dear
        
         
           Embraces
           us'd
           to
           hold
           ,
           durst
           not
           draw
           near
           ,
        
         
           The
           Wife
           's
           afraid
           her
           Husband
           to
           behold
           ,
        
         
           Whom
           in
           kind
           Arms
           she
           used
           to
           infold
           :
        
         
           Now
           such
           as
           yet
           do
           dwell
           in
           health
           and
           ease
           ,
        
         
           Know
           not
           how
           soon
           the
           Plague
           on
           them
           may
           seise
           :
        
         
           Where
           lately
           by
           our
           Kings
           happy
           return
           ,
        
         
           All
           joy
           ,
           and
           triumph
           was
           ,
           and
           then
           to
           mourn
           ,
        
         
           It
           was
           piacular
           ;
           behold
           !
           and
           see
        
         
           How
           sad
           now
           there
           ,
           and
           mournful
           all
           things
           be
           !
        
         
           And
           now
           it
           were
           ridiculous
           to
           laugh
           ,
        
         
           Yet
           some
           bold
           sinners
           now
           game
           ,
           sing
           ,
           and
           quaffe
           :
        
         
           Nay
           (
           as
           't
           is
           told
           )
           some
           by
           dead
           Corps
           do
           play
           ,
        
         
           Away
           the
           remnant
           of
           their
           lives
           short
           day
           :
        
         
           Poor
           London
           !
           this
           thy
           sad
           condition
           is
           ,
        
         
           Yet
           who
           bemoans
           thee
           ?
           and
           who
           weeps
           for
           this
           ?
        
         
           Thou
           sit'st
           disconsolate
           ,
           of
           joys
           bereft
           ,
        
         
           In
           thy
           distress
           by
           friends
           ,
           and
           lovers
           left
           :
        
         
         
           Such
           as
           to
           satisfie
           their
           Pride
           ,
           and
           Lust
           ,
        
         
           Spend
           here
           their
           wanton
           Summers
           yearly
           must
           ;
        
         
           When
           they
           have
           helpt
           to
           bring
           the
           Plague
           upon
           thee
        
         
           Now
           in
           thy
           woe
           ,
           and
           misery
           fly
           from
           thee
           :
        
         
           But
           let
           them
           go
           ,
           if
           they
           mend
           not
           ,
           no
           doubt
           ,
        
         
           Gods
           Judgments
           in
           due
           time
           will
           find
           them
           out
           :
        
         
           Though
           it
           begins
           with
           thee
           ,
           and
           you
           must
           bear
        
         
           The
           Almighty's
           wrath
           ,
           for
           that
           you
           sinful
           were
           ;
        
         
           A
           wrath
           so
           killing
           ,
           that
           your
           dead
           do
           come
        
         
           Unto
           nine
           Thousand
           in
           the
           Weekly
           sum
           ;
        
         
           And
           't
           is
           reported
           ,
           though
           Bills
           speak
           no
           more
           ,
        
         
           Fourteen
           might
           be
           some
           weeks
           upon
           the
           score
           .
        
         
           Hath
           God
           forgotten
           to
           be
           gracious
           ?
           Is
        
         
           His
           mercy
           gone
           for
           ever
           ,
           and
           your
           bliss
           ?
        
         
           O
           spare
           thy
           people
           Lord
           ,
           thy
           people
           spare
           !
        
         
           Who
           with
           thy
           precious
           Bloud
           redeemed
           are
           :
        
         
           Will
           God
           his
           anger
           evermore
           retain
           ?
        
         
           Will
           he
           still
           frown
           ,
           and
           never
           smile
           again
           ?
        
         
           No
           ,
           he
           is
           gracious
           ,
           and
           his
           mercies
           sure
           ,
        
         
           His
           pity
           doth
           from
           age
           to
           age
           endure
           :
        
         
           Humble
           thy self
           ,
           and
           hope
           well
           London
           !
           for
        
         
           God
           will
           not
           cast
           off
           his
           for
           ever
           ,
           nor
        
         
           Be
           always
           wrath
           ,
           slouds
           at
           the
           highest
           fall
           ;
        
         
           So
           now
           his
           over-flowing
           Judgments
           shall
           :
        
         
           He
           will
           consult
           his
           bowels
           ,
           and
           have
           pity
        
         
           For
           mercy
           sake
           upon
           an
           humbled
           City
           :
        
         
           And
           ere
           the
           year
           went
           round
           ,
           the
           Plague
           was
           so
        
         
           Abated
           ,
           folk
           a
           pace
           did
           thither
           go
           .
        
         
         
           Theirs
           ended
           :
           now
           began
           the
           Countrey
           's
           woe
           .
        
         
           And
           as
           provoking
           Sin
           its
           course
           hath
           run
           ,
        
         
           Avenging
           Judgment
           after
           that
           hath
           gone
           .
        
         
           As
           London
           like
           the
           Fountain
           ,
           sent
           forth
           streams
        
         
           Of
           evil
           through
           the
           Land
           ,
           so
           now
           the
           gleams
        
         
           Of
           wrath
           ,
           dart
           thence
           the
           Plague
           abroad
           ,
           and
           thus
        
         
           Sent
           Death
           into
           the
           Countrey
           among
           us
           :
        
         
           Colchester
           for
           two
           years
           her
           Thousands
           paid
        
         
           For
           tribute
           unto
           Death
           ,
           poor
           
           Braintry's
           made
        
         
           To
           give
           her
           Hundreds
           ,
           Chelmford
           scapes
           not
           free
           ,
        
         
           And
           Mousham
           long
           hath
           worn
           Deaths
           Liverie
           .
        
         
           In
           
             Easterford
             Kelv'don
          
           upon
           the
           way
           ,
        
         
           Death
           took
           into
           an
           Inne
           ,
           and
           made
           some
           stay
           ;
        
         
           But
           ,
           (
           blessed
           be
           the
           God
           of
           Heav'n
           )
           slaughter
        
         
           Was
           here
           no
           dweller
           but
           a
           sojourner
           :
        
         
           As
           once
           the
           year
           before
           he
           here
           was
           sent
        
         
           Into
           a
           Cottage
           ,
           but
           no
           further
           went.
        
         
           But
           in
           most
           Market-Towns
           about
           us
           slays
           ,
        
         
           And
           by
           his
           terror
           puts
           down
           Market-days
           .
        
         
           Whereby
           the
           Poor
           want
           work
           ,
           the
           Farmer
           vent
        
         
           For
           his
           Commodities
           ,
           his
           Landlord
           Rent
           ,
        
         
           And
           such
           whom
           God
           doth
           in
           their
           persons
           spare
           ,
        
         
           Deep
           in
           their
           Purses
           now
           afflicted
           are
           :
        
         
           Money
           is
           dead
           as
           well
           as
           People
           ,
           Trade
        
         
           Is
           low
           ,
           yet
           Payments
           high
           must
           needs
           be
           made
           .
        
         
           For
           Sickness
           ,
           and
           the
           War
           do
           both
           require
           .
        
         
           Though
           things
           we
           sell
           are
           low
           ,
           our
           Rates
           be
           higher
           .
        
         
         
           This
           is
           our
           woe
           ,
           this
           is
           our
           great
           distress
           ,
        
         
           The
           more
           's
           our
           sorrow
           ,
           Is
           our
           sin
           the
           less
           ?
        
         
           'T
           were
           well
           if
           so
           ,
           our
           loss
           would
           be
           our
           gain
           ,
        
         
           Nor
           would
           I
           doubt
           to
           see
           good
           days
           remain
           :
        
         
           But
           this
           I
           cannot
           see
           ,
           and
           therefore
           fear
        
         
           No
           end
           of
           these
           ,
           but
           a
           third
           woe
           is
           near
           :
        
         
           Gods
           knows
           what
           will
           be
           next
           ,
           but
           sure
           ,
           unless
        
         
           We
           better
           prove
           for
           these
           ,
           God
           will
           not
           cease
        
         
           To
           punish
           us
           ,
           he
           hath
           more
           Plagues
           in
           store
           ,
        
         
           And
           can
           for
           sin
           afflict
           us
           seven
           times
           more
           :
        
         
           Since
           both
           the
           War
           ,
           and
           Sickness
           still
           endure
           ,
        
         
           And
           once
           to
           know
           the
           Cause
           is
           half
           the
           Cure
           ;
        
         
           Let
           us
           reflect
           on
           that
           ,
           and
           throughly
           try
        
         
           To
           search
           the
           Cause
           ,
           and
           find
           a
           Remedy
        
         
           For
           these
           Calamities
           ,
           which
           make
           so
           long
           ,
        
         
           Have
           mercy
           Lord
           ,
           the
           burthen
           of
           our
           Song
           :
        
         
           Let
           's
           see
           what
           hinders
           mercy
           ,
           and
           what
           sure
        
         
           Course
           we
           must
           take
           ,
           his
           mercy
           to
           procure
           :
        
         
           But
           while
           I
           was
           about
           to
           think
           on
           this
           ,
        
         
           Another
           woe
           befell
           ;
           The
           City
           is
        
         
           All
           on
           a
           flame
           ,
           the
           Countrey
           in
           a
           fright
           ,
        
         
           Our
           thoughts
           distracted
           ,
           business
           put
           to
           flight
           ,
        
         
           All
           stand
           i'
           th'
           way
           to
           hear
           what
           news
           from
           thence
           ,
        
         
           As
           men
           astonisht
           ,
           even
           bereft
           of
           sense
           :
        
         
           But
           when
           my
           Muse
           her self
           could
           recollect
           ;
        
         
           On
           this
           third
           Woe
           began
           she
           to
           reflect
           ,
        
         
           Resolv'd
           at
           last
           by
           light
           of
           th'
           Fire
           to
           see
        
         
           The
           cause
           of
           all
           these
           woes
           ,
           and
           remedie
           .
        
      
       
         
         
           On
           the
           BVRNING
           OF
           LONDON
           .
        
         
           
             
               
                 JER
                 .
                 18.7
                 ,
                 8.
              
               
            
             
               At
               what
               instant
               I
               shall
               speak
               concerning
               a
               Nation
               ,
               and
               concerning
               a
               Kingdom
               to
               pluck
               up
               ,
               and
               to
               pull
               down
               ,
               and
               to
               destroy
               it
               .
            
             
               If
               that
               Nation
               against
               whom
               I
               have
               pronounced
               ,
               turn
               from
               their
               evil
               ,
               I
               will
               repent
               of
               the
               evil
               that
               I
               thought
               to
               do
               unto
               them
               ,
               &c.
               
            
          
        
         
           THe
           War
           still
           slaughters
           ,
           &
           the
           Plague
           destroys
           ,
        
         
           And
           England
           mournful
           sits
           ,
           berest
           of
           joys
           ,
        
         
           Abandoned
           to
           sorrow
           :
           yet
           Gods
           Hand
        
         
           Is
           stretched
           out
           against
           this
           sinful
           Land
           :
        
         
           
             And
             as
             the
             City
          
           London
           
             still
             hath
             been
          
        
         
           
             The
             Spring
             ,
             and
             Fountain
             of
             the
             Nations
             sin
             ,
          
        
         
           Another
           wrathful
           Vial
           God
           doth
           spill
        
         
           On
           them
           ,
           and
           thence
           the
           Land
           with
           terror
           fill
           .
        
         
           Heav'n
           from
           the
           former
           with
           provoked
           ire
        
         
           Shed
           death
           among
           them
           ,
           but
           from
           this
           a
           Fire
           ,
        
         
           A
           wasting
           fire
           :
           scarce
           had
           that
           Vial
           done
        
         
           Dropping
           down
           sickness
           ,
           ere
           this
           woe
           begun
           ,
        
         
         
           And
           all
           at
           once
           in
           flaming
           fury
           thrown
        
         
           On
           this
           great
           City
           ,
           quickly
           burnt
           it
           down
           :
        
         
           God
           seem'd
           to
           slack
           his
           wrath
           ,
           the
           Pestilence
        
         
           Was
           in
           a
           manner
           quite
           removed
           thence
           :
        
         
           And
           having
           swept
           the
           City
           ,
           thence
           did
           come
           ,
        
         
           And
           all
           about
           the
           Countrey
           strangely
           roame
           :
        
         
           And
           those
           who
           hither
           fled
           for
           safety
           ,
           fly
        
         
           For
           danger
           hence
           ,
           and
           gladly
           homewards
           hye
           :
        
         
           London
           is
           quickly
           fill'd
           ,
           Trading
           returns
           ,
        
         
           No
           miss
           ,
           or
           thought
           of
           those
           are
           in
           their
           urns
           :
        
         
           And
           with
           the
           People
           sin
           returned
           too
        
         
           Unmortified
           ,
           by
           all
           the
           Plague
           could
           do
           :
        
         
           This
           foster'd
           in
           their
           flight
           ,
           brought
           home
           again
        
         
           In
           their
           return
           ,
           bred
           their
           ensuing
           bane
           :
        
         
           They
           come
           the
           same
           men
           home
           ,
           take
           the
           old
           course
           ;
        
         
           Whom
           judgments
           do
           not
           mend
           ,
           they
           oft
           make
           worse
           :
        
         
           The
           Beasts
           God
           sav'd
           in
           
           Noah's
           Ark
           came
           out
        
         
           Beasts
           as
           they
           went
           in
           ,
           and
           some
           Men
           ,
           no
           doubt
           ,
        
         
           Have
           no
           more
           sense
           of
           mercy
           ,
           when
           they
           live
           ,
        
         
           While
           God
           doth
           others
           to
           destruction
           give
           :
        
         
           C
           ham
           scapt
           among
           the
           eight
           in
           
           Noah's
           flood
           ,
        
         
           Yet
           this
           deliverance
           did
           not
           make
           him
           good
           ;
        
         
           He
           's
           sav'd
           ,
           the
           World
           destroy'd
           ,
           yet
           when
           all
           's
           done
        
         
           Wicked
           comes
           forth
           and
           proves
           a
           cursed
           son
           .
        
         
           So
           when
           the
           Plague
           like
           to
           a
           deluge
           swept
        
         
           In
           London
           ,
           and
           God
           there
           a
           remnant
           kept
        
         
           Alive
           ,
           and
           such
           as
           to
           the
           Countrey
           fled
           ,
        
         
           A
           life
           in
           mercy
           here
           in
           safety
           led
           ;
        
         
         
           London
           replenisht
           once
           ,
           the
           Plagues
           forgot
           ,
        
         
           And
           God
           that
           sent
           it
           too
           ,
           the
           folk
           no
           jot
        
         
           Amended
           by
           it
           ,
           but
           the
           Plague
           is
           still
        
         
           Most
           in
           their
           Hearts
           ,
           when
           lest
           't
           is
           in
           their
           Bill
           :
        
         
           Therefore
           as
           when
           the
           Plague
           of
           Leprosie
        
         
           Among
           the
           Jews
           ,
           could
           no
           way
           purged
           be
        
         
           Out
           of
           their
           houses
           ,
           Gods
           Law
           did
           require
           ,
        
         
           Such
           houses
           should
           be
           burned
           down
           with
           fire
           :
        
         
           So
           when
           the
           Plague
           of
           Sin
           could
           not
           be
           purg'd
        
         
           From
           out
           that
           sinful
           City
           ,
           sharply
           scourg'd
        
         
           By
           that
           of
           Sickness
           ,
           God
           himself
           in
           ire
        
         
           Burnt
           down
           their
           Houses
           with
           consuming
           fire
           .
        
         
           Upon
           
           September's
           second
           day
           i'
           th'
           year
           ▪
        
         
           Much
           talkt
           of
           *
           Sixty
           six
           ,
           did
           there
           appear
        
         
           By
           two
           i'
           th'
           morning
           these
           consuming
           Flames
           ,
        
         
           
             Which
             did
             break
             out
             first
             in
             the
             Street
             of
          
           Thames
           :
        
         
           And
           then
           blown
           on
           by
           a
           strong
           wind
           into
        
         
           The
           City
           ,
           what
           e're
           Art
           ,
           or
           strength
           could
           do
        
         
           Of
           men
           to
           stop
           ,
           or
           slack
           its
           fury
           ,
           by
        
         
           The
           Friday
           morning
           did
           in
           ruines
           lie
        
         
           The
           greatest
           part
           of
           that
           within
           the
           Wall
           ,
        
         
           And
           much
           beside
           of
           that
           we
           Suburbs
           call
           :
        
         
           For
           it
           broke
           thorough
           Newgate
           ,
           and
           went
           on
        
         
           To
           Holborn-bridge
           ,
           and
           had
           through
           Ludgate
           gone
           ,
        
         
           Up
           Fleetstreet
           unto
           Temple-bar
           before
        
         
           Its
           fury
           stopt
           ,
           and
           did
           burn
           down
           no
           more
           :
        
         
         
           If
           what
           without
           the
           Walls
           is
           burnt
           ,
           you
           count
        
         
           For
           that
           which
           stands
           within
           ,
           as
           tant'amount
           ;
        
         
           Even
           the
           whole
           City
           in
           a
           manner
           lies
        
         
           A
           ruinous
           heap
           to
           all
           spectators
           eyes
           :
        
         
           To
           quench
           this
           fire
           men
           labour'd
           all
           in
           vain
           ,
        
         
           It
           wasting
           run
           like
           wild-fire
           in
           a
           train
           ,
        
         
           Then
           you
           might
           hear
           at
           first
           the
           doleful
           sound
           ,
        
         
           Fire
           ,
           fire
           cryed
           all
           about
           the
           City
           round
           ,
        
         
           And
           there
           you
           might
           behold
           with
           weeping
           eye
           ,
        
         
           By
           fire
           a
           whole
           Street
           ,
           quickly
           ruin'd
           lye
           ;
        
         
           Th'
           increasing
           flame
           mounting
           its
           spire
           to
           Heav'n
           ,
        
         
           Laid
           th'
           aspiring
           buildings
           with
           earth
           even
           :
        
         
           There
           might
           you
           see
           the
           Water-Engines
           ply'd
        
         
           With
           toilsome
           hands
           ,
           but
           God
           success
           denyed
           ;
        
         
           They
           quickly
           broke
           ,
           and
           peoples
           hearts
           while
           they
        
         
           Behold
           their
           Houses
           to
           the
           flames
           a
           prey
           :
        
         
           Thousands
           did
           strive
           to
           quench
           the
           fire
           ,
           but
           all
        
         
           Labour'd
           in
           vain
           ,
           the
           stately
           Structures
           fall
        
         
           Before
           its
           fury
           :
           Some
           do
           water
           bear
           ;
        
         
           Others
           pull
           down
           such
           houses
           as
           are
           near
           ,
        
         
           To
           stop
           its
           progress
           ,
           but
           aloft
           it
           flies
        
         
           O're
           th'
           interval
           ,
           and
           makes
           a
           Sacrifice
        
         
           Of
           the
           next
           Mansion
           ,
           thence
           again
           doth
           hast
           ,
        
         
           The
           rest
           with
           sweeping
           Vengeance
           to
           lay
           wast
           :
        
         
           No
           Church
           ,
           no
           Hall
           ,
           no
           House
           ,
           no
           Hospitall
        
         
           Can
           stand
           before
           it
           ,
           but
           it
           ruines
           all
           :
        
         
           What
           will
           not
           burn
           ,
           it
           breaks
           with
           piercing
           heat
           ,
        
         
           And
           tumbling
           down
           with
           rubbish
           fills
           the
           street
           :
        
         
         
           As
           when
           a
           field
           of
           stubble's
           fired
           ,
           and
        
         
           It
           runs
           like
           flowing
           billows
           cross
           the
           Land
        
         
           Blown
           with
           the
           wind
           ,
           or
           as
           when
           torrents
           fall
        
         
           From
           some
           steep
           Hills
           ,
           they
           bear
           before
           them
           all
        
         
           Stands
           in
           their
           way
           :
           E'ven
           so
           this
           fire
           runs
           on
           ,
        
         
           And
           in
           a
           little
           time
           a
           mile
           hath
           gone
           :
        
         
           Buildings
           of
           all
           materials
           you
           can
           name
           ,
        
         
           As
           stubble
           were
           before
           the
           spreading
           flame
           ;
        
         
           Which
           like
           a
           falling
           torrent
           swiftly
           flows
        
         
           Through
           London
           streets
           ,
           it
           comes
           and
           down
           all
           goes
           :
        
         
           Which
           while
           the
           tired
           people
           do
           behold
        
         
           With
           deep
           astonishment
           ;
           their
           hearts
           grow
           cold
        
         
           Within
           them
           by
           this
           fire
           ,
           when
           thus
           they
           view
        
         
           The
           fate
           of
           old
           Troy
           light
           upon
           the
           new
           .
        
         
           Now
           might
           you
           poor
           distressed
           people
           meet
        
         
           With
           streams
           of
           tears
           lamenting
           in
           each
           Street
           :
        
         
           Were
           these
           for
           sin
           ,
           they
           'd
           sooner
           quench
           the
           flames
           ,
        
         
           Than
           all
           the
           water
           of
           the
           River
           Thames
           .
        
         
           Some
           you
           might
           see
           there
           with
           extreamest
           passion
           ,
        
         
           Bewail
           their
           loss
           as
           nigh
           to
           desperation
           .
        
         
           Now
           might
           you
           see
           our
           Soveraign
           Lord
           the
           King
           ,
        
         
           Water
           himself
           unto
           this
           fire
           to
           bring
           ,
        
         
           I
           mean
           in
           mournful
           eyes
           ,
           weeping
           to
           see
        
         
           His
           Cities
           ruines
           ,
           Subjects
           miserie
           ;
        
         
           Whose
           sorrow
           was
           their
           solace
           ,
           as
           compassion
        
         
           To
           those
           in
           woe
           's
           a
           kind
           of
           Consolation
           :
        
         
           Nor
           did
           his
           tears
           speak
           pity
           only
           ,
           but
        
         
           By
           comfortable
           words
           he
           solace
           put
        
         
         
           Into
           distressed
           hearts
           ,
           and
           night
           ,
           and
           day
        
         
           Rode
           up
           and
           down
           from
           place
           to
           place
           ,
           to
           stay
        
         
           By
           all
           means
           possible
           the
           running
           Flame
           :
        
         
           Giving
           forth
           orders
           look't
           to
           see
           the
           same
        
         
           Effectually
           performed
           ,
           ventring
           where
        
         
           Inferior
           persons
           dar'd
           not
           to
           come
           near
           ;
        
         
           And
           with
           his
           hands
           to
           labour
           did
           not
           spare
           ,
        
         
           (
           'T
           is
           said
           )
           and
           to
           expose
           his
           life
           ,
           through
           care
        
         
           To
           save
           the
           City
           ,
           for
           a
           rumor
           slew
        
         
           Abroad
           of
           treachery
           ,
           if
           that
           be
           true
           ;
        
         
           To
           think
           ,
           I
           tremble
           in
           what
           peril
           then
        
         
           Our
           Soveraign
           was
           among
           the
           rout
           of
           men
           ,
        
         
           When
           any
           foe
           had
           opportunitie
        
         
           To
           act
           a
           not
           to
           be
           thought
           of
           Tragedie
           :
        
         
           But
           praised
           be
           the
           King
           of
           Kings
           alone
           ,
        
         
           No
           hand
           ,
           or
           tongue
           was
           mov'd
           by
           anyone
        
         
           Against
           our
           King
           ,
           all
           joy'd
           ,
           and
           blest
           him
           ,
           when
        
         
           They
           saw
           his
           care
           ,
           his
           grief
           ,
           his
           labour
           then
           ;
        
         
           But
           nothing
           would
           asswage
           this
           furious
           fire
           ,
        
         
           Which
           all
           attempts
           to
           quench
           did
           raise
           but
           higher
           :
        
         
           As
           the
           Smiths
           forge
           by
           water
           grows
           more
           hot
           ;
        
         
           When
           fire
           of
           water
           mastery
           hath
           got
           :
        
         
           All
           limbs
           ,
           and
           spirits
           tired
           were
           ,
           but
           yet
        
         
           Their
           hopes
           grew
           lesser
           ,
           and
           the
           Flames
           more
           great
           :
        
         
           Now
           faint
           ,
           and
           weary
           ,
           and
           despairing
           quite
        
         
           E're
           to
           put
           out
           the
           fire
           ,
           all
           in
           a
           fright
           ,
        
         
           (
           Giving
           o're
           the
           whole
           City
           to
           the
           will
        
         
           Of
           God
           ,
           and
           fury
           of
           the
           Flames
           ,
           which
           still
        
         
         
           Rage
           more
           ,
           and
           more
           )
           (
           too
           soon
           perhaps
           )
           disperse
        
         
           Their
           several
           wayes
           ,
           to
           save
           stuffe
           ,
           and
           purse
           :
        
         
           As
           when
           a
           Town
           's
           besieged
           ,
           ta'ne
           and
           sackt
           ;
        
         
           Their
           Goods
           away
           like
           Plunder
           now
           are
           packt
           :
        
         
           But
           many
           ,
           whom
           the
           Flame
           surpris'd
           before
           ,
        
         
           Out
           of
           their
           Houses
           they
           remov'd
           their
           store
           ,
        
         
           Lost
           all
           their
           Goods
           ,
           and
           in
           one
           hour
           were
           some
           ,
        
         
           Wealthy
           before
           ,
           mere
           beggars
           now
           become
           :
        
         
           And
           those
           who
           most
           did
           save
           ,
           and
           bear
           away
           ,
        
         
           Much
           of
           their
           Goods
           left
           to
           the
           Flames
           a
           prey
           :
        
         
           Th'
           excessive
           rates
           of
           Carrs
           made
           much
           not
           worth
        
         
           Removal
           ,
           though
           they
           safe
           could
           get
           it
           forth
           :
        
         
           Some
           hurrying
           what
           they
           snatcht
           out
           of
           the
           fire
        
         
           To
           the
           first
           friends
           they
           thought
           of
           ,
           when
           that
           nigher
        
         
           Approacht
           those
           places
           ,
           now
           with
           speed
           they
           were
        
         
           Compell'd
           their
           things
           away
           from
           thence
           to
           bear
           .
        
         
           And
           the
           fire
           still
           pursuing
           them
           as
           fast
           ,
        
         
           Forc't
           them
           soon
           to
           a
           third
           remove
           in
           hast
           :
        
         
           Thus
           some
           to
           shift
           their
           place
           were
           oft
           compell'd
           ,
        
         
           Who
           still
           in
           hopes
           the
           fire
           would
           be
           quell'd
           ,
        
         
           Would
           not
           quite
           leave
           the
           Town
           ,
           until
           at
           last
           ,
        
         
           All
           thinking
           the
           whole
           City
           it
           would
           wast
           ;
        
         
           No
           other
           refuge
           sought
           but
           open
           fields
           :
        
         
           Man
           loth
           at
           last
           unto
           Gods
           Judgments
           yields
           .
        
         
           Moore-fields
           with
           piles
           of
           Goods
           are
           fill'd
           ,
           and
           there
        
         
           Their
           Owners
           lie
           abroad
           in
           th'
           open
           air
           :
        
         
           Thousands
           who
           lately
           went
           secure
           to
           bed
           ,
        
         
           Their
           dainty
           limbs
           on
           Doun
           ,
           or
           Feather
           spread
        
         
         
           In
           stately
           Mansions
           ,
           now
           abroad
           must
           lie
           ,
        
         
           The
           Earth
           their
           Bed
           ,
           and
           Heav'n
           their
           Canopie
           .
        
         
           And
           after
           three
           days
           toil
           ,
           trouble
           ,
           and
           fright
           ,
        
         
           Having
           no
           ease
           by
           day
           ,
           nor
           rest
           by
           night
           ,
        
         
           Nor
           leisure
           all
           this
           time
           ,
           due
           food
           to
           eat
           ,
        
         
           Now
           in
           the
           fields
           may
           sleep
           ,
           but
           still
           want
           meat
           :
        
         
           Many
           who
           late
           fed
           on
           delicious
           fare
           ,
        
         
           Would
           now
           skip
           at
           a
           crust
           ,
           though
           brown
           it
           were
           :
        
         
           But
           hold
           !
           with
           horror
           think
           I
           now
           upon
        
         
           (
           What
           's
           yet
           forgot
           )
           the
           sad
           condition
        
         
           Of
           women
           then
           in
           travail
           ,
           and
           such
           there
        
         
           As
           in
           this
           time
           sick
           ,
           weak
           ,
           and
           dying
           were
           :
        
         
           For
           scarce
           a
           day
           revolved
           ,
           but
           you
           might
        
         
           Here
           there
           of
           births
           ,
           and
           deaths
           each
           day
           and
           night
           .
        
         
           How
           many
           sad
           
           Benoni's
           now
           were
           born
           !
        
         
           While
           lab'ring
           mothers
           through
           the
           streets
           are
           born
           .
        
         
           How
           many
           frighted
           Parents
           now
           miscarry
           ,
        
         
           And
           travail
           must
           ,
           at
           home
           they
           may
           not
           tarry
           !
        
         
           How
           many
           while
           they
           in
           the
           fields
           do
           lie
           ,
        
         
           Have
           pangs
           of
           Child-birth
           ,
           and
           deliverie
           !
        
         
           How
           many
           dying
           persons
           now
           expire
           !
        
         
           Breathing
           their
           last
           like
           Martyrs
           in
           the
           fire
           ;
        
         
           Their
           Souls
           like
           
           Manoah's
           Angel
           ,
           soaring
           on
        
         
           The
           mounting
           Flames
           to
           Heav'ns
           blest
           Mansion
           :
        
         
           How
           many
           dead
           have
           Roman
           buryal
           there
           !
        
         
           Their
           Houses
           funeral
           piles
           wherein
           they
           were
        
         
           Now
           burned
           ,
           and
           lie
           buried
           underneath
        
         
           The
           ruines
           of
           the
           place
           ,
           where
           seiz'd
           by
           death
           .
        
         
         
           As
           when
           our
           Saviour
           in
           Judea
           wrought
           .
        
         
           His
           powerful
           Miracles
           ,
           they
           sick
           folk
           brought
        
         
           On
           Beds
           ,
           and
           Couches
           to
           him
           ;
           Even
           so
           you
        
         
           Might
           see
           them
           carried
           forth
           the
           City
           now
           ;
        
         
           But
           with
           this
           diff'rence
           ,
           then
           to
           him
           they
           came
        
         
           For
           life
           ,
           and
           health
           ,
           but
           fly
           hence
           for
           the
           same
           :
        
         
           These
           were
           the
           sad
           disasters
           ,
           which
           the
           ire
        
         
           Of
           Heav'n
           did
           punish
           sinners
           with
           by
           fire
           :
        
         
           The
           Rampant
           Flames
           went
           on
           victorious
           still
           ,
        
         
           On
           both
           hands
           levelling
           up
           to
           Tower-Hill
           ,
        
         
           Approach't
           ,
           as
           if
           't
           would
           offer
           an
           assault
           ,
        
         
           But
           there
           receiv'd
           a
           blow
           ,
           and
           made
           an
           halt
           ;
        
         
           Houses
           blown
           up
           ,
           by
           which
           a
           breach
           was
           made
           ,
        
         
           Prov'd
           the
           best
           Rampart
           now
           ,
           whereby
           was
           staid
        
         
           The
           fury
           of
           this
           foe
           ,
           and
           in
           one
           hour
        
         
           Gunpowder
           cool'd
           his
           courage
           ,
           sav'd
           the
           Tower
           :
        
         
           Is
           Powder
           then
           the
           way
           to
           quench
           a
           Flame
           :
        
         
           Strangely
           begun
           ,
           went
           on
           ,
           went
           out
           this
           same
           .
        
         
           Stranger
           Experiment
           sure
           ne're
           hath
           bin
           ,
        
         
           Thus
           by
           a
           blast
           to
           save
           the
           Magazin
           .
        
         
           But
           had
           the
           fire
           came
           on
           ,
           the
           Tower
           ta'ne
           ,
        
         
           How
           had
           that
           strong
           and
           ancient
           Structure
           lain
           ,
        
         
           
             Great
             Britains
          
           strength
           and
           glory
           ,
           in
           the
           dust
           !
        
         
           For
           want
           of
           Ammunition
           then
           we
           must
        
         
           Yield
           to
           our
           foes
           ;
           But
           God
           (
           blest
           be
           his
           Name
           )
        
         
           Would
           not
           commit
           the
           Tower
           to
           the
           Flame
           :
        
         
           Which
           elsewhere
           forward
           went
           ,
           Newgate
           can't
           hold
        
         
           This
           fire
           ,
           it
           broke
           the
           Prison
           ,
           and
           as
           bold
        
         
         
           As
           ever
           ,
           unto
           Holborn-Bridge
           it
           straid
           ,
        
         
           But
           there
           through
           mercy
           was
           its
           fury
           staid
           .
        
         
           Yet
           still
           in
           Fleetstreet
           did
           it
           wander
           far
           ,
        
         
           E'ven
           to
           the
           Temple
           ,
           but
           God
           put
           a
           barre
        
         
           There
           to
           this
           lawless
           fire
           ,
           and
           here
           supprest
        
         
           This
           Tyrants
           raging
           force
           ,
           and
           sav'd
           the
           rest
           ;
        
         
           For
           which
           we
           ought
           with
           thankful
           hearts
           to
           raise
        
         
           To
           him
           some
           Trophies
           of
           immortal
           praise
           .
        
         
           Now
           he
           that
           once
           gave
           forth
           his
           Law
           in
           Flame
           ,
        
         
           Would
           not
           at
           once
           destroy
           ours
           by
           the
           same
           .
        
         
           Now
           he
           that
           saith
           ,
           from
           Truth
           he
           will
           not
           vary
           ,
        
         
           Gods
           mercy
           was
           the
           Temples
           Sanctuary
           .
        
         
           Had
           not
           his
           mercy
           now
           a
           remnant
           spar'd
           ,
        
         
           Like
           Sodom
           ,
           and
           Gomorrah
           we
           had
           far'd
           :
        
         
           The
           City
           for
           the
           most
           part
           ruin'd
           lies
           ,
        
         
           To
           Gods
           just
           vengeance
           a
           due
           Sacrifice
           ;
        
         
           But
           through
           his
           mercy
           ,
           just
           like
           a
           fire-brand
           ,
        
         
           Out
           of
           the
           burning
           pluckt
           ,
           the
           Suburbs
           stand
           :
        
         
           Their
           Goods
           for
           the
           most
           part
           too
           ,
           and
           lives
           he
           saves
           ,
        
         
           Who
           in
           their
           houses
           might
           have
           found
           their
           graves
           :
        
         
           But
           now
           when
           I
           reflect
           on
           what
           's
           consum'd
           ,
        
         
           How
           many
           Churches
           are
           themselves
           inhum'd
           !
        
         
           How
           many
           Hospitals
           are
           Cripples
           made
           !
        
         
           How
           many
           lofty
           publick
           Halls
           are
           laid
        
         
           E'ven
           with
           the
           ground
           !
           my
           quill
           in
           tears
           I
           steep
           ,
        
         
           My
           Muse
           sits
           down
           in
           dropping
           Verse
           to
           weep
           .
        
         
           Now
           stately
           Churches
           in
           their
           Graves
           are
           laid
           :
        
         
           Altars
           themselves
           are
           Sacrifices
           made
           :
        
         
         
           And
           now
           old
           Paul
           a
           Martyr
           is
           once
           more
           ,
        
         
           And
           that
           in
           England
           ,
           which
           we
           must
           deplore
           :
        
         
           His
           Temple
           in
           the
           firie
           Ocean
           stood
        
         
           Like
           to
           some
           Island
           ,
           but
           the
           raging
           flood
        
         
           Of
           Flames
           hath
           drown'd
           its
           glory
           ,
           over-turn'd
        
         
           This
           wondrous
           Fabrick
           ,
           wonder
           !
           how
           it
           burn'd
           !
        
         
           The
           School
           it self
           Ignis
           could
           not
           decline
           :
        
         
           The
           Pulpit
           could
           not
           its
           own
           fall
           divine
           :
        
         
           Yet
           falling
           preacht
           Earths
           glory
           is
           a
           trance
           :
        
         
           The
           Organs
           could
           not
           pipe
           ,
           though
           the
           Stones
           dance
           :
        
         
           Paul
           falls
           away
           in
           's
           old
           age
           ,
           the
           Saint
           hath
        
         
           By
           strange
           Apostacy
           now
           broke
           his
           Faith
           †
        
         
           Yet
           he
           who
           when
           he
           liv'd
           wrought
           many
           ,
           fell
        
         
           Not
           now
           't
           is
           said
           without
           a
           Miracle
           .
        
         
           His
           Altar
           ,
           Clothing
           ,
           Canopie
           remain'd
        
         
           Untouch't
           ,
           and
           unconsum'd
           when
           the
           sire
           reign'd
        
         
           O're
           all
           the
           rest
           ,
           lest
           some
           Phanaticks
           shall
        
         
           Report
           the
           bowing
           that
           way
           made
           him
           fall
           .
        
         
           But
           since
           he
           now
           lies
           buried
           in
           Faith
           ,
        
         
           My
           heart
           hope
           of
           his
           Resurrection
           hath
           :
        
         
           Where
           could
           the
           Doctor
           of
           the
           Gentiles
           have
           ,
        
         
           Than
           among
           learned
           Books
           *
           ,
           a
           fitter
           grave
           :
        
         
           Now
           some
           obscure
           Authors
           ,
           Profane
           ,
           Divine
           ,
        
         
           Are
           brought
           to
           light
           ,
           and
           their
           names
           made
           to
           shine
           :
        
         
         
           Some
           of
           them
           said
           ,
           
             Tempus
             est
             edax
             rerum
          
           ,
        
         
           But
           this
           fire
           proves
           it self
           so
           ,
           and
           doth
           jeer
           '
           um
           .
        
         
           Were
           I
           Poet
           only
           ,
           no
           Divine
           ,
        
         
           I
           chiefly
           might
           lament
           the
           loss
           of
           Wine
           ;
        
         
           But
           I
           care
           not
           if
           it
           were
           burned
           all
           ;
        
         
           Too
           much
           of
           this
           hath
           made
           the
           City
           fall
           .
        
         
           See
           how
           this
           fire
           did
           worldly
           glory
           jeere
           !
        
         
           View
           the
           Exchange
           !
           O
           what
           a
           change
           is
           here
           !
        
         
           Now
           from
           the
           Steeple
           of
           the
           stately
           Bow
        
         
           The
           Bells
           are
           shot
           ,
           and
           run
           indeed
           ,
           but
           so
        
         
           That
           scarcely
           one
           of
           twelve
           well
           cast
           is
           found
           ;
        
         
           All
           are
           like
           water
           spilt
           upon
           the
           ground
           :
        
         
           You
           that
           were
           wont
           to
           make
           the
           Ringers
           sweat
           ,
        
         
           Now
           are
           your selves
           in
           a
           far
           greater
           heat
           :
        
         
           Ringers
           keep
           up
           your
           bells
           !
           so
           we
           would
           man
           ,
        
         
           But
           they
           will
           fall
           too
           fast
           ,
           do
           what
           we
           can
           :
        
         
           Now
           for
           the
           bells
           men
           wring
           their
           hands
           ,
           to
           see
        
         
           How
           the
           sweet
           Ring
           of
           Cornhil
           melted
           bee
           :
        
         
           The
           Town
           's
           on
           fire
           ,
           ring
           the
           bells
           backwards
           all
           !
        
         
           Alas
           !
           they
           cannot
           ,
           for
           they
           backwards
           fall
           :
        
         
           For
           help
           to
           save
           themselves
           they
           cannot
           call
           ,
        
         
           How
           sits
           the
           City
           solitary
           ,
           who
        
         
           Was
           full
           of
           People
           only
           full
           of
           woe
           ?
        
         
           How
           like
           a
           Cottage
           in
           a
           Garden
           shows
           ,
        
         
           Or
           a
           storm'd
           Garrison
           sack't
           ,
           burnt
           by
           foes
           ,
        
         
           This
           ancient
           City
           !
           which
           as
           stories
           tell
           ,
        
         
           Brute
           *
           built
           when
           Samuel
           judged
           Israel
           ,
        
         
         
           And
           call'd
           it
           Troy-novant
           ,
           't
           was
           ominous
           sure
           ,
        
         
           And
           signified
           
           Troy's
           fate
           it
           must
           endure
           .
        
         
           Lud
           *
           afterward
           rebuilt
           ,
           more
           ample
           made
        
         
           This
           City
           unto
           Ludgate
           ,
           which
           't
           is
           said
           ,
        
         
           Deriv'd
           its
           name
           from
           his
           ,
           nay
           some
           averre
           ,
        
         
           He
           his
           name
           to
           the
           City
           did
           transferre
           ;
        
         
           And
           changed
           Troy-novant
           into
           Luds-Town
           ,
        
         
           Which
           time
           hath
           chang'd
           to
           London
           of
           renown
        
         
           For
           age
           ,
           yet
           beauty
           ,
           strength
           ,
           wealth
           ,
           glory
           ,
           scarce
        
         
           To
           be
           paralel'd
           in
           the
           Universe
           :
        
         
           The
           ancient
           fear
           of
           Kings
           ,
           and
           royal
           place
        
         
           Of
           
             British
             ,
             Saxon
             ,
             Norman
             ,
             Scottish
          
           race
           ;
        
         
           And
           which
           hath
           hitherto
           by
           age
           ,
           and
           time
           ,
        
         
           Grown
           but
           more
           beautiful
           ,
           than
           in
           its
           prime
           :
        
         
           But
           not
           without
           some
           alteration
           ,
           true
           ,
        
         
           It
           hath
           oft
           like
           a
           Snake
           chang'd
           skin
           ,
           and
           hew
           :
        
         
           Nor
           did
           it
           alwayes
           scape
           the
           fire
           before
           ,
        
         
           But
           in
           the
           Conquerours
           twentieth
           year
           (a)
           it
           bore
           ,
        
         
           Such
           marks
           of
           wasting
           Flames
           as
           at
           this
           day
           :
        
         
           The
           greatest
           part
           in
           ruines
           then
           did
           lay
           .
        
         
           Saint
           
           Paul's
           which
           Ethelbert
           ,
           (b)
           of
           Saxon
           men
        
         
           First
           Christian
           King
           ,
           did
           build
           ,
           was
           burnt
           down
           then
           ;
        
         
           This
           Erkenwald
           (c)
           its
           Bishop
           had
           enlarg'd
           ,
        
         
           Adorn'd
           ,
           Enricht
           ,
           all
           which
           this
           fire
           discharg'd
           .
        
         
         
           But
           the
           next
           year
           (a)
           Mauritius
           piouslie
           ,
        
         
           Another
           Prelate
           of
           this
           Ancient
           See
           ,
        
         
           Laid
           the
           foundation
           of
           a
           far
           more
           fair
           ,
        
         
           Magnificent
           ,
           and
           stately
           Structure
           there
           ;
        
         
           Which
           in
           process
           of
           time
           ,
           by
           bounteous
           hand
        
         
           Of
           pious
           Benefactors
           ,
           late
           did
           stand
        
         
           This
           Nations
           glory
           ,
           others
           envy
           ,
           and
        
         
           Not
           to
           be
           paralel'd
           in
           Christian
           Land
           :
        
         
           The
           boasted
           of
           fair
           Church
           of
           
             Nostre
             Dame
          
        
         
           In
           Paris
           ,
           might
           be
           Handmaid
           to
           this
           same
           ;
        
         
           When
           our
           St.
           Paul
           was
           in
           his
           pomp
           ,
           I
           trow
           ,
        
         
           Their
           Lady
           set
           by
           him
           would
           make
           no
           show
        
         
           Until
           the
           Steeples
           Heav'n
           assaulting
           Spire
           ,
        
         
           By
           Lightning
           sent
           from
           Heav'n
           was
           set
           on
           fire
           :
        
         
           As
           if
           this
           seem'd
           to
           imitate
           the
           pride
        
         
           Of
           Babel
           builders
           ,
           whom
           God
           did
           deride
           ,
        
         
           This
           lofty
           Pyramis
           he
           burned
           down
           ;
        
         
           Which
           fire
           seis'd
           on
           
           Paul's
           roof
           ,
           &
           sing'd
           his
           crown
           ,
        
         
           And
           with
           its
           smutty
           beams
           ,
           scorched
           his
           head
           ,
        
         
           Black't
           and
           defac't
           the
           whole
           Structure
           ,
           and
           made
        
         
           Paul
           look
           more
           like
           ,
           to
           such
           as
           did
           him
           mark
           ,
        
         
           An
           Ethiopian
           ,
           than
           an
           English
           Clark
           :
        
         
           The
           marks
           of
           which
           he
           for
           a
           long
           time
           bore
           ,
        
         
           Nor
           could
           regain
           his
           beauty
           as
           before
           ;
        
         
           Till
           to
           the
           Land
           of
           God
           ,
           and
           his
           own
           praise
           ,
        
         
           The
           Reverend
           Archbishop
           Land
           did
           raise
        
         
         
           
           Paul's
           to
           its
           pristine
           glory
           ;
           till
           late
           times
           ,
        
         
           When
           Sacriledge
           ,
           Rebellion
           no
           crimes
           ,
        
         
           But
           Vertues
           were
           accounted
           :
           Some
           mens
           zeal
        
         
           Could
           devour
           whole
           Cathedrals
           at
           a
           meal
           :
        
         
           Christ's
           zeal
           for
           Gods
           House
           eat
           him
           up
           ,
           more
           odd
        
         
           Was
           this
           ,
           their
           zeal
           eat
           up
           the
           House
           of
           God
           :
        
         
           The
           holy
           Tribe
           ,
           and
           service
           ,
           they
           cast
           out
           ,
        
         
           Brought
           Horses
           in
           ,
           the
           more
           beasts
           they
           no
           doubt
           :
        
         
           Thus
           these
           Phanaticks
           ,
           O
           abominable
           !
        
         
           Turned
           the
           House
           of
           God
           into
           a
           Stable
           ;
        
         
           And
           Reformation
           was
           there
           never
           stranger
           ,
        
         
           Where
           Altars
           stood
           ,
           to
           set
           up
           Rack
           ,
           and
           Manger
           :
        
         
           Temple
           profaners
           must
           on
           the
           sacred
           sloore
        
         
           Your
           Horses
           dung
           ?
           What
           could
           the
           Turks
           do
           more
           ?
        
         
           The
           Jews
           indeed
           did
           less
           ,
           they
           to
           a
           Den
        
         
           Turned
           Gods
           Temple
           ,
           but
           it
           was
           of
           men
           ,
        
         
           Though
           thieves
           ,
           but
           these
           more
           brutish
           ,
           for
           the
           nonce
        
         
           Make
           it
           a
           den
           of
           thieves
           ,
           and
           beasts
           at
           once
           ;
        
         
           And
           by
           such
           usage
           ,
           Paul
           declin'd
           a
           pace
           ;
        
         
           The
           Souldiers
           gave
           him
           deep
           scars
           on
           his
           face
           ,
        
         
           His
           Walls
           lookt
           sadly
           ,
           and
           his
           Gates
           did
           mourn
           ,
        
         
           Until
           the
           late
           miraculous
           return
        
         
           Of
           King
           ,
           and
           Bishops
           ,
           who
           remov'd
           th'
           abuse
           ,
        
         
           And
           
           Paul's
           restor'd
           unto
           its
           pristine
           use
           :
        
         
           And
           daily
           did
           re-edifie
           ,
           repair
        
         
           All
           parts
           about
           it
           ,
           which
           lately
           ruin'd
           were
           :
        
         
           But
           by
           this
           raging
           fire
           ,
           which
           now
           befell
        
         
           The
           City
           ,
           sparing
           neither
           Church
           ,
           nor
           Cell
           ,
        
         
         
           Paul
           'mong
           the
           rest
           into
           his
           Grave
           is
           thrown
           ,
        
         
           Whence
           we
           expect
           his
           Resurrection
           :
        
         
           In
           King
           ,
           and
           Bishops
           ,
           to
           good
           works
           inclin'd
        
         
           We
           Ethelbert
           ,
           and
           Erkenwalds
           to
           find
           ,
        
         
           And
           generous
           Mauritus
           too
           do
           trust
           ;
        
         
           Who
           will
           redeem
           
           Paul's
           once
           more
           from
           its
           dust
           :
        
         
           Nor
           do
           I
           doubt
           ,
           did
           we
           but
           lay
           to
           heart
        
         
           The
           causes
           of
           our
           woes
           ,
           by
           which
           we
           smart
           :
        
         
           Or
           would
           this
           stubborn
           Nation
           but
           endure
        
         
           The
           means
           of
           their
           Recovery
           ,
           and
           Cure
           :
        
         
           Th'
           Almighty
           would
           in
           mercy
           soon
           restore
        
         
           The
           City
           to
           its
           beauty
           ,
           or
           to
           more
           :
        
         
           It
           should
           not
           long
           as
           now
           in
           ruines
           lie
           ;
        
         
           Nor
           noise
           of
           War
           our
           borders
           terrifie
           :
        
         
           The
           killing
           Plague
           should
           in
           all
           places
           cease
           ,
        
         
           Our
           Land
           enjoy
           Prosperity
           ,
           and
           Peace
           .
        
         
           Let
           us
           consider
           then
           of
           all
           our
           woe
        
         
           The
           Cause
           ,
           the
           Cure
           we
           shall
           the
           better
           know
           .
        
      
       
         
           The
           Cause
           of
           our
           Calamities
           .
        
         
           THE
           Cause
           of
           all
           ,
           in
           highest
           Heav'ns
           I
           seek
           ,
        
         
           And
           in
           our
           sinful
           bosomes
           ,
           which
           do
           reek
        
         
           With
           boiling
           lust
           ,
           whence
           sinful
           deeds
           do
           rise
           ,
        
         
           As
           vapours
           from
           the
           Earth
           ,
           above
           the
           Skies
        
         
           Ascend
           ,
           and
           make
           those
           clouds
           of
           Gods
           just
           ire
           ,
        
         
           Which
           thunder'd
           forth
           the
           War
           ,
           lightned
           the
           Fire
           ,
        
         
         
           And
           did
           on
           this
           provoking
           people
           pour
        
         
           Of
           mortal
           sickness
           a
           contagious
           showr
           :
        
         
           Not
           for
           the
           causes
           meerly
           natural
        
         
           Of
           all
           these
           woes
           ,
           or
           means
           instrumental
           ,
        
         
           Search
           I
           ,
           but
           for
           the
           prime
           efficient
           ,
        
         
           And
           inward
           moving
           cause
           ,
           were
           our
           hearts
           rent
        
         
           With
           due
           contrition
           ,
           this
           we
           soon
           might
           spy
        
         
           Deep
           in
           our
           brests
           ,
           for
           that
           we
           must
           look
           high
           :
        
         
           God
           is
           the
           Author
           ,
           and
           our
           Sins
           the
           Spring
           ;
        
         
           Which
           on
           us
           all
           these
           dreadful
           Plagues
           do
           bring
           :
        
         
           How
           many
           Atheists
           in
           this
           Land
           do
           dwell
           ?
        
         
           Even
           Owles
           at
           Athens
           ,
           blind
           in
           Israel
           .
        
         
           There
           is
           no
           God
           ,
           say
           some
           fools
           in
           their
           heart
           ,
        
         
           VVhom
           war
           ,
           nor
           Plague
           would
           from
           their
           Atheism
           start
           :
        
         
           Sure
           by
           the
           light
           of
           the
           late
           dreadful
           fire
        
         
           They
           'le
           see
           their
           folly
           ,
           and
           the
           light
           that
           's
           higher
           .
        
         
           How
           many
           with
           corporeal
           fancies
           serve
        
         
           That
           God
           who
           is
           all
           Spirit
           ?
           others
           swerve
        
         
           From
           his
           prescription
           ,
           after
           their
           own
           will
        
         
           Do
           worship
           him
           ,
           and
           are
           devoutly
           ill
           .
        
         
           Many
           a
           swearing
           ,
           cursing
           miscreant
           ,
        
         
           As
           Devils
           upon
           Earth
           ,
           each
           place
           doth
           haunt
           ,
        
         
           And
           do
           blaspheme
           Gods
           sacred
           Name
           ,
           in
           spight
        
         
           Of
           all
           Plagues
           ,
           wish
           a
           Plague
           ,
           and
           take
           delight
        
         
           To
           tear
           Christs
           wounds
           ,
           &
           afresh
           make
           him
           bleed
           ;
        
         
           Pray
           to
           be
           damn'd
           ,
           but
           sure
           they
           shall
           not
           need
           :
        
         
           When
           neither
           war
           ,
           nor
           plague
           would
           these
           affright
           ,
        
         
           God
           fir'd
           their
           Houses
           'bout
           their
           ears
           to
           light
        
         
         
           Them
           to
           Repentance
           ,
           and
           thus
           let
           them
           see
        
         
           An
           Embleme
           of
           the
           Worlds
           Catastrophe
           ,
        
         
           And
           an
           Epitome
           of
           that
           Hell
           Infernal
        
         
           In
           which
           the
           wicked
           after
           death
           must
           burn
           all
           .
        
         
           How
           many
           do
           neglect
           ,
           contemn
           ,
           profane
        
         
           All
           holy
           times
           consecrate
           to
           God's
           Name
           ,
        
         
           And
           service
           now
           ?
           How
           is
           the
           zeal
           grown
           cold
           ,
        
         
           Which
           thronged
           Christian
           Churches
           so
           of
           old
           ?
        
         
           Scarce
           the
           tenth
           part
           will
           in
           some
           places
           come
        
         
           To
           Church
           ,
           but
           most
           do
           idley
           stay
           at
           home
           ?
        
         
           Or
           to
           Schismatical
           Assemblies
           run
           ,
        
         
           Or
           make
           an
           halt
           until
           the
           Pray'rs
           be
           done
           :
        
         
           Of
           those
           ,
           who
           in
           our
           Churches
           do
           appear
           ,
        
         
           How
           few
           with
           reverence
           ,
           and
           godly
           fear
        
         
           Behave
           themselves
           ?
           some
           do
           in
           Taverns
           wast
        
         
           Those
           precious
           hours
           ,
           when
           here
           their
           souls
           should
           feast
           ;
        
         
           And
           one
           would
           think
           ,
           when
           such
           a
           Plague
           God
           sent
           ,
        
         
           All
           Christians
           now
           would
           fast
           ,
           pray
           ,
           and
           repent
           :
        
         
           But
           on
           the
           Fasting
           days
           ,
           Good
           Lord
           !
           how
           few
        
         
           Will
           come
           before
           thee
           ,
           and
           for
           mercy
           sue
           !
        
         
           All
           Holy-days
           are
           mere
           Play-days
           now
           are
           made
           ,
        
         
           Or
           consecrate
           to
           drunken
           Baechus
           trade
           :
        
         
           Church
           doors
           are
           open'd
           ,
           &
           bells
           ring
           for
           fashion
           ,
        
         
           But
           th'
           Alehouse
           hath
           the
           greater
           Congregation
           :
        
         
           Gods
           House
           indeed
           is
           styl'd
           the
           House
           of
           Pray'r
           ,
        
         
           But
           if
           no
           Preaching
           be
           ,
           few
           will
           come
           there
           ,
        
         
           They
           think
           't
           not
           worth
           the
           while
           to
           call
           on
           God
           ,
        
         
           Even
           when
           they
           groan
           under
           his
           scourging
           Rod
           :
        
         
         
           They
           hear
           ,
           and
           hear
           ,
           but
           never
           learn
           to
           do
        
         
           Those
           duties
           which
           all
           Preaching
           tendeth
           to
           :
        
         
           Others
           whose
           lusts
           ,
           and
           sins
           the
           Word
           controuls
           ,
        
         
           Nauseate
           all
           Preaching
           ,
           Physick
           for
           their
           Souls
           ;
        
         
           And
           the
           seduced
           people
           ,
           whose
           blind
           eyes
        
         
           See
           not
           of
           Christ
           the
           saving
           mysteries
           ,
        
         
           Yet
           wholesome
           Chatechizing
           wont
           endure
           ,
        
         
           For
           their
           Souls
           blindness
           though
           the
           only
           cure
           :
        
         
           Thus
           is
           Gods
           Service
           crucified
           between
        
         
           Two
           thieves
           like
           him
           ,
           and
           in
           his
           House
           is
           seen
        
         
           A
           den
           of
           thieves
           ,
           one
           sort
           rob
           of
           him
           of
           Pray'r
           ▪
        
         
           The
           other
           rob
           their
           souls
           of
           his
           Word
           there
           :
        
         
           And
           for
           the
           blessed
           Sacrament
           ,
           so
           full
        
         
           Of
           sweetest
           consolation
           ,
           to
           the
           dull
        
         
           A
           quickning
           goad
           ,
           to
           weak
           a
           strong
           support
           ,
        
         
           Assurance
           to
           the
           fearful
           ,
           and
           a
           fort
        
         
           To
           tempted
           Christians
           ,
           to
           such
           as
           for
           sin
           cry
           ,
        
         
           An
           Handkerchief
           dipt
           in
           Christs
           blood
           to
           dry
        
         
           Their
           sorrow
           up
           ,
           a
           Cordial
           to
           the
           faint
           ,
        
         
           An
           heav'nly
           banquet
           to
           the
           humble
           Saint
           :
        
         
           How
           few
           will
           sit
           themselves
           ,
           draw
           nigh
           ,
           and
           tast
        
         
           This
           soul
           refreshing
           mystical
           repast
           :
        
         
           'T
           was
           one
           effect
           of
           our
           late
           Reformation
           ,
        
         
           T'
           exile
           this
           Sacrament
           out
           of
           the
           Nation
        
         
           Almost
           ,
           some
           towns
           in
           twenty
           years
           had
           not
        
         
           Any
           Communion
           ,
           they
           had
           forgot
        
         
           
             Do
             this
             in
             remembrance
             of
             me
             ,
          
           and
           now
        
         
           They
           've
           lost
           their
           stomacks
           by
           long
           fasting
           ;
           how
        
         
         
           To
           bring
           them
           to
           an
           appetite
           once
           more
           ,
        
         
           That
           the
           Lords
           Table
           may
           of
           guests
           have
           store
           ,
        
         
           We
           scarce
           do
           know
           ,
           they
           have
           been
           so
           affrighted
        
         
           From
           that
           wherewith
           their
           souls
           should
           be
           delighted
        
         
           Their
           Preachers
           sounding
           in
           their
           ears
           damnation
           ,
        
         
           To
           scare
           them
           from
           Communion
           profanation
           ,
        
         
           Which
           was
           indeed
           to
           rise
           'mong
           some
           ,
           that
           durst
        
         
           Approach
           without
           due
           Preparation
           first
           ,
        
         
           But
           still
           forgetting
           equally
           to
           press
        
         
           Their
           duty
           to
           receive
           ,
           though
           in
           the
           dress
        
         
           Of
           Knowledge
           ,
           Faith
           ,
           Repentance
           ,
           Charitie
           ;
        
         
           That
           in
           contempt
           did
           as
           much
           peril
           lie
           ;
        
         
           The
           poor
           deluded
           people
           did
           believe
           ,
        
         
           The
           only
           danger
           was
           if
           they
           receive
           ;
        
         
           Fly
           from
           their
           Souls
           food
           as
           their
           certain
           bane
           ;
        
         
           To
           whom
           Christs
           Institution
           is
           in
           vain
           ,
        
         
           So
           strangely
           Gods
           Commandements
           were
           then
        
         
           Made
           void
           by
           the
           Traditions
           of
           these
           men
           .
        
         
           Now
           this
           luke-warmness
           to
           Gods
           worship
           ,
           we
        
         
           May
           both
           in
           Countrey
           ,
           and
           in
           City
           see
           :
        
         
           For
           such
           contempt
           of
           Christs
           Authoritie
           ,
        
         
           Might
           justly
           some
           be
           sick
           ,
           some
           weak
           ,
           some
           die
           :
        
         
           Mens
           coldness
           kindled
           wrath
           ,
           that
           fire
           anon
           ,
        
         
           To
           make
           them
           fervent
           in
           Religion
           :
        
         
           You
           would
           not
           come
           to
           Church
           a
           while
           ago
           ,
        
         
           No
           Churches
           now
           you
           have
           to
           come
           unto
           :
        
         
           The
           Gates
           of
           Sion
           mourn'd
           '
           cause
           few
           ,
           or
           none
        
         
           Would
           enter
           there
           ,
           but
           now
           you
           make
           your
           mone
           ,
        
         
         
           And
           mourn
           for
           Sions
           gates
           ,
           '
           cause
           they
           are
           burn'd
        
         
           With
           fire
           ,
           and
           to
           a
           heap
           of
           ashes
           turn'd
           .
        
         
           Sion
           before
           in
           silence
           did
           lament
           ,
        
         
           Because
           so
           few
           her
           solemn
           Feasts
           frequent
        
         
           Now
           you
           may
           mourn
           in
           silence
           ,
           sigh
           ,
           and
           fast
           ,
        
         
           For
           that
           the
           places
           of
           her
           Feasts
           be
           wast
           :
        
         
           Thus
           want
           of
           zeal
           hath
           sir'd
           the
           House
           of
           God
           ,
        
         
           Neglect
           of
           Worship
           Temples
           hath
           destroy'd
           ,
        
         
           Nor
           could
           you
           look
           ,
           but
           that
           which
           burned
           down
        
         
           God's
           Houses
           thus
           ,
           must
           needs
           consume
           your
           own
           .
        
         
           Thus
           justly
           may
           the
           War
           ,
           Plague
           ,
           Fire
           ,
           and
           all
           ,
        
         
           For
           our
           neglect
           to
           serve
           God
           ,
           on
           us
           fall
           .
        
         
           How
           many
           disobedient
           are
           to
           all
        
         
           Their
           Parents
           ,
           civil
           ,
           spiritual
           ,
           natural
           ?
        
         
           How
           rife's
           Rebellion
           ,
           while
           the
           People
           strive
        
         
           With
           Prince
           and
           Priest
           neither
           due
           reverence
           give
           ?
        
         
           Their
           Princes
           Laws
           ,
           the
           people
           think
           not
           right
           ;
        
         
           The
           Priests
           their
           Prelates
           admonition
           slight
           :
        
         
           Servants
           rebel
           against
           their
           Masters
           ,
           and
        
         
           Wives
           disobey
           their
           Husbands
           sit
           command
           :
        
         
           Children
           their
           loving
           Parents
           honour
           not
           :
        
         
           Obedience
           among
           all
           sorts
           is
           forgot
           .
        
         
           What
           swarms
           have
           we
           of
           stubborn
           Sectaries
           ?
        
         
           Who
           all
           Dominion
           boldly
           do
           despise
           :
        
         
           Nor
           are
           afraid
           to
           speak
           of
           Dignities
        
         
           All
           kind
           of
           evil
           ,
           though
           most
           grievous
           lies
           .
        
         
           The
           Ark
           had
           but
           one
           Cham
           ,
           our
           Church
           many
           ,
        
         
           Who
           glad
           their
           Fathers
           nakedness
           to
           spy
           ,
        
         
         
           With
           most
           reproachful
           mocks
           ,
           and
           taunts
           discover
           ,
        
         
           And
           blazon
           it
           abroad
           the
           Nation
           over
           .
        
         
           Nay
           rather
           than
           Fathers
           in
           Church
           or
           State
           ,
        
         
           Shall
           want
           the
           ruder
           peoples
           scorn
           ,
           and
           hate
           :
        
         
           Such
           whet
           their
           tongues
           to
           tell
           the
           smoothest
           lies
           ,
        
         
           Which
           these
           to
           pop'lar
           scorn
           may
           sacrifice
           .
        
         
           Rebellion
           though
           as
           sin
           of
           witchcraft
           reigns
        
         
           Among
           this
           headstrong
           people
           ,
           whom
           no
           reins
        
         
           Of
           Law
           will
           rule
           ,
           no
           Power
           curb
           ,
           or
           awe
        
         
           From
           following
           their
           will
           ,
           their
           will
           's
           a
           law
        
         
           To
           them
           alone
           ,
           who
           without
           fear
           ,
           or
           shame
           ,
        
         
           Publickly
           their
           perversness
           do
           proclaim
           :
        
         
           Saying
           ,
           if
           they
           were
           not
           commanded
           to
        
         
           These
           ,
           and
           these
           things
           they
           would
           them
           freely
           do
           .
        
         
           O
           stubborn
           people
           !
           shall
           there
           ever
           rest
        
         
           Spirits
           of
           Contradiction
           in
           your
           brest
           ?
        
         
           Hath
           God
           stampt
           his
           Authority
           upon
        
         
           Your
           Governours
           ,
           and
           do
           you
           think
           they
           've
           none
           ?
        
         
           Hath
           he
           said
           they
           are
           Gods
           ,
           and
           will
           ye
           then
        
         
           Give
           less
           respect
           to
           them
           ,
           than
           other
           men
           ?
        
         
           Counsels
           of
           whispering
           Seducers
           ,
           how
        
         
           Prone
           to
           observe
           ,
           and
           promptly
           follow
           ,
           you
        
         
           Are
           ;
           but
           how
           backwards
           to
           obey
           ,
           we
           see
           ,
        
         
           Lawful
           Commands
           of
           just
           Authoritie
           :
        
         
           And
           is
           the
           lawfulness
           ,
           and
           duty
           less
           ,
        
         
           Because
           enjoyn'd
           ?
           nay
           more
           your
           stubbornness
        
         
           To
           disobey
           :
           God
           is
           contemned
           sure
           ,
        
         
           And
           such
           contempt
           from
           men
           will
           not
           endure
           .
        
         
         
           Yet
           when
           for
           peoples
           sins
           he
           Plagues
           hath
           sent
           ,
        
         
           They
           oft
           impute
           them
           to
           the
           Government
           :
        
         
           So
           the
           rebellious
           mutineers
           of
           old
        
         
           VVhen
           the
           Earth
           strangely
           swallowed
           up
           those
           bold
        
         
           Conspirators
           of
           
           Corah's
           faction
           ,
           cry'd
        
         
           Ye
           the
           Lords
           people
           kill'd
           ,
           Gods
           hand
           denied
           ,
        
         
           Moses
           ,
           and
           Aaron
           with
           that
           slaughter
           charg'd
           ,
        
         
           Till
           God
           by
           his
           just
           judgment
           them
           discharg'd
           ;
        
         
           By
           a
           sad
           Plague
           sweeping
           these
           murmurers
           thence
           ,
        
         
           Brought
           the
           whole
           Camp
           into
           another
           sense
           :
        
         
           Now
           when
           the
           like
           sins
           among
           us
           are
           spread
           ;
        
         
           Shall
           we
           not
           say
           for
           these
           are
           many
           dead
           ?
        
         
           Gods
           Judgments
           are
           a
           great
           deep
           ,
           if
           we
           dive
        
         
           Too
           far
           ,
           we
           drown
           all
           Charity
           ,
           alive
        
         
           Preserve
           censoriousness
           ,
           believe
           I
           do
        
         
           All
           sorts
           have
           sin'd
           ,
           all
           sorts
           have
           suffer'd
           too
           ;
        
         
           Yet
           all
           may
           hear
           ,
           what
           some
           observe
           ,
           and
           dread
           ;
        
         
           Most
           factious
           places
           are
           most
           visited
           .
        
         
           Have
           we
           not
           murmurers
           among
           us
           too
           ,
        
         
           Like
           to
           rebellious
           Corah
           ,
           and
           his
           crew
           ?
        
         
           VVill
           ,
           what
           is
           Moses
           ,
           and
           what
           Aaron
           ,
           say
           ,
        
         
           Are
           we
           not
           all
           holy
           ,
           as
           well
           as
           they
           ?
        
         
           To
           rule
           ,
           and
           sacrifice
           ,
           all
           would
           have
           pow'r
           :
        
         
           Might
           not
           for
           this
           a
           fire
           from
           God
           devour
        
         
           The
           City
           ,
           which
           as
           eminent
           in
           sin
           ,
        
         
           Hath
           exemplary
           now
           in
           judgment
           been
           ?
        
         
           That
           whilome
           was
           rebellions
           spring
           and
           nurse
           ,
        
         
           And
           seem'd
           back-sliding
           to
           the
           former
           course
           :
        
         
         
           Is
           now
           of
           
           England's
           woe
           ,
           and
           sorrow
           source
           :
        
         
           Sin
           no
           more
           so
           ,
           lest
           you
           are
           plagued
           worse
           .
        
         
           What
           murthers
           in
           this
           Land
           committed
           were
           ;
        
         
           For
           Civil
           Wars
           on
           one
           side
           murthers
           are
           :
        
         
           And
           God
           doth
           know
           ,
           to
           whose
           charge
           shall
           be
           laid
        
         
           That
           blood
           which
           in
           our
           Civil
           Wars
           was
           shed
           .
        
         
           Blood
           is
           a
           crying
           sin
           ,
           so
           much
           was
           spilt
           ,
        
         
           This
           Nation
           cannot
           but
           be
           deep
           in
           guilt
           ;
        
         
           Especially
           when
           Royal
           blood
           hath
           been
        
         
           Profanely
           shed
           ,
           no
           doubt
           a
           roaring
           sin
           ;
        
         
           And
           who
           doth
           know
           ,
           but
           the
           just
           God
           doth
           make
        
         
           Now
           Inquisition
           for
           that
           blood
           ,
           and
           take
        
         
           Due
           Vengeance
           on
           us
           for
           that
           barbarous
           fact
           ,
        
         
           The
           like
           whereto
           no
           Nation
           ere
           did
           act
           :
        
         
           Unless
           those
           cursed
           Jews
           who
           crucified
        
         
           Their
           Saviour
           ,
           for
           which
           they
           still
           abide
        
         
           The
           wrath
           of
           God
           ,
           and
           shame
           of
           men
           ,
           as
           we
        
         
           For
           that
           through
           all
           the
           world
           reproached
           be
           .
        
         
           Nor
           need
           we
           wonder
           judgment
           was
           delaid
           ,
        
         
           That
           this
           same
           Vengeance
           was
           no
           sooner
           paid
           ,
        
         
           If
           it
           should
           be
           for
           this
           :
           For
           God
           is
           wont
        
         
           To
           call
           men
           to
           Repentance
           first
           ,
           he
           don't
        
         
           Suddenly
           punish
           ,
           but
           gives
           means
           and
           time
           ,
        
         
           That
           men
           may
           see
           ,
           and
           sorrow
           for
           their
           crime
           ;
        
         
           And
           so
           prevent
           the
           Plague
           ;
           now
           all
           the
           while
        
         
           Usurpers
           rul'd
           ;
           Our
           King
           was
           in
           exile
           ;
        
         
           None
           openly
           of
           this
           might
           speak
           a
           word
           ;
        
         
           Which
           to
           deluded
           people
           could
           afford
        
         
         
           Due
           Information
           of
           these
           hainous
           crimes
           ,
        
         
           Which
           past
           for
           Vertues
           in
           those
           cheating
           times
           :
        
         
           But
           since
           the
           Throne
           ,
           and
           Pulpit
           too
           were
           free
        
         
           From
           Gulls
           ,
           Impostors
           and
           their
           knavery
           ;
        
         
           Since
           all
           men
           saw
           ,
           what
           ever
           such
           pretended
           ,
        
         
           In
           Self-advancement
           their
           Religion
           ended
           :
        
         
           Since
           the
           Saints
           coat
           was
           pulled
           o're
           their
           ears
           ,
        
         
           Who
           for
           a
           Cloak
           of
           Villany
           it
           wears
           .
        
         
           Since
           that
           vile
           murther
           hath
           been
           quite
           disclaim'd
        
         
           By
           a
           free
           Parliament
           ,
           a
           Fast
           proclaim'd
           ,
        
         
           Wherein
           the
           Nation
           annually
           may
        
         
           Humble
           themselves
           before
           their
           God
           ,
           and
           pray
        
         
           The
           guilt
           hereof
           may
           not
           lie
           on
           their
           head
           ,
        
         
           To
           them
           nor
           their
           posterity
           be
           laid
           :
        
         
           Since
           Orthodox
           Divines
           have
           soundly
           shown
        
         
           How
           sins
           of
           others
           may
           become
           our
           own
           ;
        
         
           And
           so
           how
           many
           ways
           men
           guilty
           stand
        
         
           Of
           Royal
           blood
           ,
           before
           Gods
           bar
           ,
           whose
           hand
        
         
           Or
           heart
           ne're
           toucht
           it
           :
           not
           by
           commission
           ,
        
         
           Covnsel
           ,
           or
           by
           abetting
           the
           transgression
        
         
           Only
           ,
           or
           by
           allowing
           it
           for
           good
           ,
        
         
           But
           by
           our
           not
           resisting
           it
           to
           blood
           ,
        
         
           Or
           by
           not
           mourning
           for
           't
           enough
           ,
           or
           by
        
         
           Those
           sins
           ,
           which
           did
           provoke
           the
           Deitie
           ,
        
         
           So
           far
           to
           suffer
           villany
           to
           reign
           ,
        
         
           For
           woe
           to
           us
           ,
           to
           kill
           our
           Sovereign
           :
        
         
           Since
           means
           ,
           and
           opportunities
           have
           thus
        
         
           Of
           true
           Repentance
           been
           afforded
           us
           ;
        
         
         
           The
           only
           reason
           of
           Gods
           Patience
           ;
        
         
           Yet
           so
           few
           shew
           a
           hearty
           Penitence
           ,
        
         
           Even
           among
           those
           most
           deeply
           guilty
           were
           ;
        
         
           Who
           where
           the
           Fast
           is
           kept
           will
           not
           come
           there
           :
        
         
           But
           have
           such
           seared
           Consciences
           ,
           that
           they
        
         
           Keep
           a
           Thanksgiving
           on
           that
           Fasting-day
           ▪
        
         
           Dwell
           we
           not
           stil
           with
           those
           ?
           whose
           fine
           tongues
           are
        
         
           More
           soft
           than
           Oyl
           ,
           yet
           in
           their
           hearts
           have
           War
           ,
        
         
           Who
           smoother
           are
           than
           Butter
           in
           their
           words
           ,
        
         
           Yet
           in
           design
           ,
           and
           wish
           ,
           are
           drawing
           Swords
           :
        
         
           Such
           as
           pretended
           ever
           to
           abhorre
           ,
        
         
           Charles
           the
           first
           death
           ,
           and
           seemed
           zealous
           for
        
         
           The
           Seconds
           Restauration
           ,
           missing
           what
        
         
           In
           Church
           ,
           or
           State
           they
           hoped
           for
           by
           that
           ,
        
         
           Seem
           in
           their
           discontent
           to
           lay
           the
           train
        
         
           Of
           th'
           old
           Rebellion
           ,
           venturing
           again
        
         
           A
           second
           Charles
           his
           ruine
           ,
           rather
           then
        
         
           Their
           will
           shall
           not
           be
           law
           ,
           and
           they
           the
           men
           .
        
         
           Shall
           not
           God
           visit
           such
           a
           Generation
           ,
        
         
           And
           be
           avenged
           on
           a
           bloody
           Nation
           ?
        
         
           And
           since
           that
           sinful
           City
           cannot
           be
        
         
           Excus'd
           from
           guilt
           of
           blood
           ,
           which
           was
           too
           free
        
         
           In
           contributing
           to
           the
           war
           ,
           and
           killing
           ;
        
         
           And
           to
           the
           Royal
           bloods
           inhumane
           spilling
           ,
        
         
           Not
           (
           to
           the
           shedding
           of
           their
           own
           ,
           )
           resisting
           ,
        
         
           To
           that
           which
           came
           to
           this
           ,
           too
           much
           assisting
           ▪
        
         
           (
           The
           Bodkins
           which
           the
           City
           Dames
           did
           give
           ,
        
         
           Our
           Caesar
           of
           his
           life
           help't
           to
           deprive
           :
        
         
         
           The
           tumults
           raised
           there
           were
           Prologue
           to
        
         
           This
           tragick
           Act
           ,
           which
           other
           hands
           did
           do
           :
           )
        
         
           Since
           they
           could
           see
           their
           King
           before
           his
           Doore
        
         
           Murther'd
           by
           miscreants
           ,
           and
           weep
           no
           more
           :
        
         
           Since
           blood
           of
           loyal
           Subjects
           too
           was
           shed
        
         
           I'
           th'
           midst
           of
           them
           ,
           and
           they
           scarce
           shook
           their
           head
           .
        
         
           Since
           they
           so
           long
           supported
           ,
           and
           maintained
        
         
           Usurping
           Powers
           ,
           who
           in
           Rebellion
           raigned
        
         
           Under
           the
           Kingly
           power
           unruly
           were
           ,
        
         
           Yet
           Tyrants
           force
           so
           long
           could
           tamely
           heauen
        
         
           Might
           not
           for
           this
           Gods
           Justice
           lately
           call
        
         
           For
           those
           Judgments
           did
           on
           the
           City
           fall
           ?
        
         
           In
           
           David's
           time
           a
           Plague
           on
           Israel
           ,
        
         
           For
           what
           Saul
           did
           to
           th'
           Gibeonites
           ,
           befel
           .
        
         
           How
           with
           uncleanness
           of
           all
           sorts
           defil'd
        
         
           Is
           this
           our
           sinful
           Land
           ,
           the
           people
           wild
        
         
           In
           their
           unbridled
           lusts
           ,
           like
           Horses
           they
        
         
           Are
           ranck
           ,
           each
           for
           his
           neighbours
           wife
           do
           neigh
           :
        
         
           Sodomy
           ,
           Incest
           ,
           Fornication
           ,
           and
        
         
           Adultery
           ;
           Nay
           of
           heart
           ,
           tongue
           ,
           and
           hand
           ,
        
         
           All
           kind
           of
           filthiness
           is
           sadly
           found
        
         
           To
           be
           too
           fruitful
           in
           our
           English
           ground
           :
        
         
           In
           Court
           ,
           and
           Camp
           ,
           City
           ,
           and
           Countrey
           ,
           we
        
         
           This
           kind
           of
           sin
           grown
           impudent
           do
           see
           :
        
         
           The
           Nation
           hath
           the
           forehead
           of
           an
           Whore
           ,
        
         
           Declares
           her
           sin
           as
           Sodom
           ,
           and
           doth
           more
           :
        
         
           When
           such
           as
           should
           in
           others
           punish
           it
           ,
        
         
           The
           same
           themselves
           without
           shame
           do
           commit
           ;
        
         
         
           Sinners
           are
           bold
           ,
           and
           do
           not
           seek
           to
           hide
        
         
           Their
           shame
           ,
           but
           all
           reproof
           thereof
           deride
           .
        
         
           We
           read
           by
           Plague
           did
           many
           thousands
           die
           ,
        
         
           When
           Israel
           did
           with
           
           Moab's
           Daughters
           lie
           :
        
         
           How
           Sodom
           ,
           and
           Gomorrah
           when
           they
           burn'd
        
         
           In
           lustful
           heat
           ,
           God
           into
           ashes
           turn'd
        
         
           By
           fire
           from
           heav'n
           ,
           since
           first
           our
           guilt
           and
           blame
        
         
           Hath
           been
           ,
           well
           might
           our
           suff'ring
           be
           the
           same
           ;
        
         
           And
           that
           same
           filthy
           City
           which
           doth
           lie
        
         
           In
           ruines
           ,
           How
           full
           of
           Adulterie
           ,
        
         
           And
           all
           uncleaness
           was
           it
           ?
           and
           as
           some
        
         
           Observ'd
           ,
           the
           Plague
           did
           most
           in
           places
           come
        
         
           And
           rage
           ,
           where
           this
           sin
           reign'd
           ,
           yet
           ,
           health
           return'd
        
         
           To
           them
           ,
           afresh
           they
           in
           their
           old
           lusts
           burn'd
           :
        
         
           In
           filthiness
           they
           drove
           on
           
           Sodom's
           trade
           ,
        
         
           And
           now
           by
           fire
           are
           like
           Gomorrah
           made
           :
        
         
           Yet
           have
           a
           remnant
           scap't
           ,
           like
           little
           Zoar
        
         
           For
           shelter
           unto
           Lot
           ,
           let
           such
           beware
           !
        
         
           More
           Plagues
           in
           store
           for
           sinners
           still
           there
           are
           .
        
         
           Thou
           shalt
           not
           steal
           ,
           saith
           God
           ,
           but
           O
           my
           soul
           !
        
         
           How
           doth
           our
           Peoples
           practice
           this
           controul
           ?
        
         
           Will
           they
           not
           rob
           ?
           Yes
           ,
           God
           himself
           they
           will
           ;
        
         
           In
           Tithes
           ,
           and
           Offerings
           they
           do
           it
           still
           .
        
         
           In
           ev'ry
           Parish
           Vicar
           you
           may
           see
        
         
           A
           witness
           of
           the
           old
           Church
           robberie
           :
        
         
           Nor
           can
           we
           yet
           forget
           the
           later
           time
           ,
        
         
           When
           Sacriledge
           accounted
           was
           no
           crime
           :
        
         
         
           When
           from
           the
           Church
           her
           Rights
           ,
           Revenues
           ,
           Lands
        
         
           Were
           pluck't
           away
           by
           Sacrilegious
           hands
           :
        
         
           When
           some
           mens
           zeal
           the
           very
           Bells
           did
           melt
        
         
           Bullets
           to
           make
           ,
           their
           Enemies
           to
           pelt
           :
        
         
           When
           heat
           of
           Reformation
           our
           Church
           Plate
        
         
           Coin'd
           into
           current
           money
           for
           the
           State.
        
         
           And
           some
           mens
           feud
           with
           Superstition
           rent
        
         
           Each
           peice
           of
           Brass
           from
           dustie
           monument
           :
        
         
           When
           greedy
           Cormorants
           stood
           gaping
           still
        
         
           For
           gleab
           ,
           and
           tithes
           ,
           even
           to
           the
           Goose
           ,
           whose
           quill
           ,
        
         
           Thanks
           be
           to
           God
           ,
           is
           left
           us
           yet
           to
           write
        
         
           The
           shame
           of
           those
           ,
           who
           in
           such
           theft
           delight
           ;
        
         
           And
           was
           it
           not
           Commission
           of
           transgression
        
         
           Against
           this
           Law
           ,
           to
           Plunder
           by
           Commission
           ?
        
         
           Besides
           their
           Sequestration
           ,
           Decimation
           ,
        
         
           Was
           there
           not
           cunning
           stealing
           in
           this
           Nation
           ?
        
         
           Whatever
           some
           do
           reckon
           of
           their
           sin
           ,
        
         
           Far
           lesser
           theives
           I
           doubt
           have
           hanged
           bin
           .
        
         
           Now
           when
           I
           Fraud
           ,
           and
           Cosenage
           think
           upon
           ,
        
         
           Extortion
           ,
           Bribery
           ,
           and
           Oppression
           :
        
         
           I
           fear
           almost
           in
           ev'ry
           way
           and
           street
           ,
        
         
           Go
           where
           you
           will
           ,
           each
           man
           's
           a
           theif
           you
           meet
           :
        
         
           Some
           on
           the
           Bench
           are
           greater
           theives
           by
           far
           ,
        
         
           Than
           such
           as
           stand
           before
           them
           at
           the
           bar
           :
        
         
           Too
           often
           Law
           ,
           and
           Livings
           too
           are
           sold
        
         
           For
           bribes
           ,
           and
           simony
           ,
           now
           very
           bold
           :
        
         
           Such
           as
           do
           sell
           ,
           or
           lend
           to
           court
           must
           stay
           ,
        
         
           And
           some
           years
           hence
           for
           expedition
           pay
           :
        
         
         
           In
           ev'ry
           shop
           a
           cheating
           thief
           doth
           stand
           ,
        
         
           To
           cosen
           with
           fine
           words
           ,
           while
           by
           the
           hand
        
         
           He
           friendly
           shakes
           you
           ;
           In
           each
           Market
           ,
           Fair
           ,
        
         
           Each
           buyer
           finds
           thieves
           are
           not
           very
           rare
           .
        
         
           Each
           brother
           will
           supplant
           ,
           and
           falsely
           deal
           ,
        
         
           Each
           neighbour
           over-reach
           ,
           which
           is
           to
           steal
           :
        
         
           And
           I
           believe
           ,
           even
           to
           the
           Countreys
           cost
           ,
        
         
           The
           King
           of
           all
           men
           now
           is
           cheated
           most
           .
        
         
           Whom
           may
           we
           trust
           ,
           whose
           word
           now
           dare
           we
           take
           ?
        
         
           Why
           do
           we
           Bonds
           to
           one
           another
           make
           ?
        
         
           There
           are
           we
           see
           more
           thieves
           among
           us
           ,
           then
        
         
           House-breakers
           ,
           Cut-purses
           ,
           and
           High-way
           men
           .
        
         
           Now
           may
           I
           be
           of
           
           Jeremiah's
           mind
           ,
        
         
           And
           wish
           some
           quiet
           lodging-place
           to
           find
        
         
           In
           solitary
           Wilderness
           ,
           that
           so
        
         
           I
           might
           from
           such
           a
           treach'rous
           people
           go
           :
        
         
           Who
           bend
           their
           tongues
           as
           bows
           for
           cosening
           lies
           ;
        
         
           Deceitful
           men
           ,
           whom
           none
           will
           trust
           ,
           that
           tries
           :
        
         
           Whose
           tongues
           are
           arrows
           shot
           out
           ,
           speak
           deceit
           ,
        
         
           Utt'ring
           fine
           words
           to
           cheat
           ,
           they
           lie
           in
           wait
           :
        
         
           Of
           such
           God
           saith
           ,
           Behold
           ,
           I
           'le
           melt
           ,
           and
           try
           them
           :
        
         
           Reprobate
           silver
           ,
           then
           to
           be
           he
           'l
           spy
           them
           .
        
         
           Shall
           I
           not
           visit
           for
           these
           things
           ,
           saith
           he
           ,
        
         
           And
           on
           such
           people
           now
           avenged
           be
           ?
        
         
           And
           as
           the
           City
           hath
           notorious
           been
        
         
           For
           sins
           of
           this
           sort
           ,
           justly
           now
           't
           is
           seen
        
         
           Low
           in
           the
           dust
           ,
           sunk
           under
           its
           own
           weight
        
         
           Of
           Cosenage
           ,
           and
           Oppression
           ,
           from
           its
           height
           .
        
         
         
           Landlords
           intolerably
           rack't
           their
           Rent
           ,
        
         
           This
           made
           them
           rack
           their
           Consciences
           to
           vent
        
         
           At
           highest
           rates
           their
           Wares
           ;
           E'ven
           forc't
           to
           cheat
           ,
        
         
           To
           get
           their
           Landlords
           Rent
           ,
           their
           Family
           meat
           :
        
         
           Fraud
           ,
           with
           Equivocations
           ,
           lies
           to
           mask
           ,
        
         
           Double
           the
           price
           of
           any
           thing
           to
           ask
           ,
        
         
           Hath
           been
           the
           brand
           of
           Citizens
           we
           know
           :
        
         
           These
           things
           may
           be
           the
           cause
           of
           all
           their
           woe
           .
        
         
           Thou
           shalt
           not
           bear
           false
           witness
           God
           hath
           said
           :
        
         
           How
           then
           are
           Knights
           of
           th'
           post
           become
           a
           trade
           ?
        
         
           Nay
           those
           who
           like
           Saints
           walk
           in
           holy
           guise
           ,
        
         
           Do
           bend
           their
           tongues
           as
           bows
           for
           telling
           lies
           :
        
         
           Had
           there
           been
           none
           who
           would
           false
           witness
           bear
           ,
        
         
           Our
           Martyr'd
           Sovereign
           had
           yet
           stood
           clear
        
         
           Before
           the
           worst
           of
           Judges
           ,
           Calumnies
        
         
           Were
           ever
           blown
           into
           the
           peoples
           eyes
        
         
           (
           Lest
           they
           should
           see
           his
           innocence
           ,
           and
           wrongs
           )
        
         
           By
           subtile
           slander
           from
           their
           double
           tongues
           ,
        
         
           Who
           fought
           against
           ,
           yet
           said
           they
           for
           him
           fought
           ,
        
         
           Vow'd
           to
           preserve
           ,
           yet
           to
           the
           Scaffold
           brought
        
         
           His
           life
           ,
           and
           honour
           ;
           still
           belied
           his
           Cause
           ,
        
         
           His
           Person
           ,
           Party
           ,
           and
           the
           juster
           Laws
           ;
        
         
           While
           in
           a
           mockery
           of
           Justice
           ,
           they
        
         
           Would
           seem
           by
           Law
           their
           Sovereign
           to
           slay
           :
        
         
           Falsely
           accuse
           God
           too
           ,
           Religion
           ,
           Reason
           ,
        
         
           While
           they
           would
           make
           these
           seem
           t'
           allow
           their
           Treason
           :
        
         
           Had
           not
           false
           rumors
           ,
           &
           reports
           'mong
           us
           ,
        
         
           Into
           Rebellion
           gull'd
           the
           people
           thus
           :
        
         
         
           They'd
           ne're
           have
           suffer'd
           Charles
           the
           first
           so
           good
        
         
           A
           Prince
           ,
           by
           Regicides
           to
           lose
           his
           blood
           :
        
         
           Still
           the
           same
           trade
           of
           lying's
           carried
           on
        
         
           Under
           the
           mask
           of
           pure
           Religion
           :
        
         
           No
           Mountebanck
           doth
           use
           more
           lying
           tricks
        
         
           To
           cheat
           ,
           than
           these
           religious
           Empericks
           :
        
         
           On
           womens
           zeal
           when
           they
           'd
           commit
           a
           Rape
           ,
        
         
           The
           Pander
           still
           must
           be
           religious
           Ape
           :
        
         
           To
           slander
           King
           ,
           and
           Bishops
           ,
           from
           the
           Church
           ,
        
         
           Is
           still
           the
           way
           ,
           new
           Proselytes
           to
           lurch
           :
        
         
           And
           of
           all
           men
           the
           holy
           Tribe
           are
           most
        
         
           Belyed
           by
           some
           ,
           who
           of
           their
           Saintship
           boast
           ;
        
         
           Nor
           of
           her
           sons
           alone
           false
           tales
           they
           broach
           ,
        
         
           But
           most
           the
           Church
           their
           Mother
           do
           reproach
           :
        
         
           Schism's
           backt
           with
           slander
           of
           the
           Church
           their
           Mother
           ;
        
         
           Yet
           all
           the
           Factions
           slander
           one
           another
           :
        
         
           But
           beside
           Slanders
           ,
           Errors
           ,
           Heresies
           ,
        
         
           False
           Oaths
           ,
           Equivocations
           ,
           Perjuries
           ,
        
         
           Are
           in
           these
           sinful
           dayes
           among
           us
           found
           ,
        
         
           To
           grow
           ,
           and
           thrive
           ,
           and
           spread
           in
           English
           ground
           :
        
         
           Oaths
           of
           Allegiance
           ,
           some
           like
           Sampsons
           cords
        
         
           Can
           snap
           asunder
           ,
           while
           a
           pack
           of
           words
        
         
           They
           call
           a
           Covenant
           ,
           contrived
           by
        
         
           A
           pack
           of
           Knaves
           ,
           must
           hold
           inviolably
           :
        
         
           Oaths
           of
           Canonical
           Obedience
        
         
           Many
           to
           keep
           make
           little
           Conscience
           ,
        
         
           But
           swallow
           them
           ,
           and
           think
           no
           more
           upon
           't
           ,
        
         
           These
           ne're
           rise
           in
           their
           stomacks
           ,
           though
           they
           don
           't
        
         
         
           At
           all
           observe
           them
           ,
           while
           a
           squeamish
           Sister
           ,
        
         
           To
           whom
           the
           Cross
           ,
           or
           Surplice
           ,
           gives
           a
           Glister
           ,
        
         
           It
           goes
           against
           their
           Conscience
           to
           offend
        
         
           Though
           oaths
           ,
           subscriptions
           ,
           and
           all
           bonds
           they
           rend
        
         
           In
           pieces
           quite
           ;
           nay
           their
           good
           Dames
           to
           please
           ,
        
         
           To
           all
           their
           duty
           give
           a
           writ
           of
           ease
           :
        
         
           Nor
           is
           the
           Countrey
           fertile
           soil
           alone
        
         
           To
           these
           ill
           weeds
           ,
           but
           they
           have
           freely
           grown
        
         
           Within
           the
           City
           ,
           for
           such
           sins
           of
           late
        
         
           God
           justly
           might
           lay
           it
           even
           desolate
           .
        
         
           Nor
           is
           the
           root
           of
           all
           curs'd
           evil
           less
        
         
           Of
           growth
           in
           English
           ground
           ,
           Covetousness
           :
        
         
           This
           sin
           with
           us
           hath
           had
           the
           greatest
           stroke
        
         
           In
           breach
           of
           both
           the
           Tables
           ,
           we
           thus
           broke
           :
        
         
           Many
           make
           Gold
           their
           God
           ,
           a
           silver
           shrine
        
         
           Is
           their
           Diana
           ,
           Conscience
           for
           coin
        
         
           Is
           sold
           ;
           Truth
           ,
           Honestie
           ,
           Justice
           ,
           and
           Faith
        
         
           The
           greedy
           lust
           of
           Gain
           devoured
           hath
           :
        
         
           O
           cursed
           thirst
           for
           gain
           ,
           what
           canst
           not
           thou
        
         
           Compel
           frail
           mortals
           sinful
           hearts
           to
           do
           :
        
         
           To
           swear
           ,
           and
           lie
           ,
           rebel
           ,
           and
           murther
           ,
           and
        
         
           Turn
           bauds
           ,
           or
           whores
           ,
           Knights
           of
           the
           post
           ,
           or
           stand
        
         
           To
           cry
           ,
           and
           rob
           ,
           to
           cosen
           ,
           and
           betray
        
         
           Their
           dearest
           friend
           ,
           Church-rights
           to
           make
           their
           prey
           ,
        
         
           For
           gain
           to
           prostitute
           wives
           ,
           daughters
           ,
           and
        
         
           Do
           any
           thing
           ,
           they
           are
           at
           thy
           command
           :
        
         
           Nay
           some
           the
           form
           of
           godliness
           do
           make
        
         
           A
           cloak
           for
           cosenage
           ,
           and
           a
           snare
           to
           take
        
         
         
           The
           simple
           buyer
           in
           :
           In
           holy
           guise
        
         
           Some
           hucksters
           dare
           of
           souls
           make
           merchandise
           ;
        
         
           Who
           like
           the
           Pharisees
           pray
           by
           the
           hour
        
         
           Only
           the
           widows
           houses
           to
           devour
           :
        
         
           And
           others
           will
           not
           spare
           an
           hour
           to
           pray
           ,
        
         
           Devoted
           unto
           Mammon
           quite
           are
           they
           ;
        
         
           Who
           now
           do
           find
           to
           leave
           their
           shops
           to
           pray
           ,
        
         
           Had
           been
           to
           keep
           their
           shops
           the
           surest
           way
           :
        
         
           While
           Covetousness
           in
           all
           our
           hearts
           thus
           grew
           ,
        
         
           Alas
           poor
           London
           !
           is
           it
           not
           too
           true
           ?
        
         
           For
           these
           things
           we
           ▪
           and
           thou
           above
           the
           rest
           ,
        
         
           By
           the
           just
           hand
           of
           God
           now
           sufferest
           .
        
         
           Nor
           let
           the
           Drunkard
           think
           he
           is
           forgot
           ,
        
         
           His
           Nations
           stain
           ,
           and
           his
           religions
           blot
           :
        
         
           Who
           under
           one
           Commandement
           alone
        
         
           Is
           hardly
           rank't
           ,
           his
           sins
           '
           gainst
           ev'ry
           one
           ;
        
         
           Or
           doth
           at
           least
           betray
           him
           to
           commit
        
         
           The
           Heav'n
           provoking
           sins
           ,
           which
           violate
           it
           .
        
         
           The
           swinish
           Drunkard
           Bacchus
           doth
           adore
           :
        
         
           Who
           Oaths
           ,
           and
           Curses
           in
           his
           mouth
           hath
           more
           ?
        
         
           Gods
           Service
           he
           contemns
           ,
           his
           Sundays
           spends
        
         
           At
           some
           good
           fellowship
           of
           drunken
           friends
           :
        
         
           He
           little
           Honour
           ,
           or
           Obedience
           shows
        
         
           To
           whom
           he
           Honour
           ,
           and
           Obedience
           ows
           ;
        
         
           Be
           they
           Parents
           or
           Preists
           ,
           Prelates
           ,
           or
           Prince
           ;
        
         
           David
           the
           Song
           of
           Drunkards
           was
           long
           since
           :
        
         
           What
           brawls
           ,
           contentions
           ,
           murthers
           some
           commit
        
         
           In
           drunken
           Revels
           ,
           without
           fear
           ,
           or
           wit
           :
        
         
         
           By
           drinking
           Healths
           ,
           some
           drink
           away
           their
           own
           ,
        
         
           And
           kill
           themselves
           ,
           a
           thing
           not
           seldom
           known
           :
        
         
           Wine
           is
           they
           say
           the
           milk
           of
           Venus
           ,
           true
           ,
        
         
           A
           Drunkard
           not
           a
           Wencher
           ,
           who
           ere
           knew
           ?
        
         
           Nor
           spares
           he
           cosening
           ,
           sland'ring
           ,
           and
           doth
           covet
        
         
           More
           liquor
           still
           ,
           above
           his
           Soul
           doth
           love
           it
           :
        
         
           To
           sins
           of
           all
           sorts
           thus
           he
           gives
           the
           reins
           ,
        
         
           All
           ill
           with
           's
           liquor
           slides
           into
           his
           veins
           :
        
         
           Since
           now
           so
           rise
           is
           this
           abomination
           ,
        
         
           Who
           can
           expect
           from
           Heaven
           ,
           but
           desolation
           ,
        
         
           And
           with
           the
           noisome
           Pestilence
           chastise
        
         
           A
           beastly
           people
           ,
           who
           themselves
           disguise
        
         
           So
           much
           with
           drink
           ;
           some
           their
           bowls
           tossing
           up
           ,
        
         
           Found
           death
           even
           at
           the
           bottom
           of
           the
           Cup
           ;
        
         
           When
           in
           the
           midst
           of
           jollity
           were
           they
           ,
        
         
           Death
           brought
           a
           reck'ning
           up
           and
           took
           away
           ;
        
         
           And
           in
           this
           City
           ,
           where
           this
           sin
           was
           common
           ,
        
         
           A
           Drawer
           now
           can
           show
           a
           room
           to
           no
           man
           :
        
         
           Such
           who
           o're-charg'd
           with
           drink
           too
           oft
           cast
           in
           ,
        
         
           God
           out
           of
           house
           ,
           and
           home
           hath
           cast
           for
           sin
           :
        
         
           And
           he
           hath
           pour'd
           that
           wine
           upon
           the
           floore
           ,
        
         
           Which
           often
           laid
           the
           drinkers
           there
           before
           :
        
         
           Wine
           in
           a
           thousand
           Cellars
           was
           burn't
           all
           ,
        
         
           And
           pour'd
           out
           at
           the
           Cities
           Funeral
           :
        
         
           And
           some
           for
           loss
           of
           wine
           did
           more
           lament
        
         
           Than
           for
           their
           sins
           ,
           for
           which
           our
           Plagues
           are
           sent
           :
        
         
           More
           of
           a
           Tavern
           ,
           or
           Play-house
           the
           fall
        
         
           Lament
           ,
           than
           of
           a
           Church
           ,
           or
           Hospital
           .
        
         
         
           Sick
           with
           this
           sin
           from
           head
           to
           foot
           hath
           bin
        
         
           Our
           Nation
           ,
           sick
           't
           is
           justly
           for
           this
           sin
           :
        
         
           Their
           Wine
           inflam'd
           the
           Citizens
           before
           ,
        
         
           Justly
           now
           fire
           inflam'd
           their
           Wine
           therefore
           :
        
         
           As
           well
           with
           shame
           ,
           as
           wine
           ,
           to
           make
           these
           blush
           ,
        
         
           God
           now
           in
           th'
           fire
           appeared
           in
           the
           bush
           :
        
         
           And
           for
           this
           sin
           God
           justly
           might
           ,
           no
           doubt
           ,
        
         
           Make
           this
           good
           Land
           to
           spew
           the
           dwellers
           out
           .
        
         
           And
           next
           to
           Drunkenness
           ,
           now
           Pride
           may
           stand
        
         
           Accus'd
           as
           cause
           of
           all
           woe
           in
           this
           Land
           :
        
         
           For
           this
           the
           French
           ,
           whose
           Apes
           in
           this
           we
           be
           ,
        
         
           May
           justly
           be
           our
           scourge
           ;
           the
           vanitie
        
         
           Of
           varying
           fashions
           !
           which
           doth
           make
           us
           strange
        
         
           To
           such
           as
           know
           us
           ,
           and
           our
           women
           change
        
         
           Their
           shape
           with
           each
           new
           Moon
           ,
           &
           some
           do
           show
           ,
        
         
           By
           the
           loose
           wanton
           garb
           in
           which
           they
           go
           ,
        
         
           What
           ware
           they
           sell
           ;
           and
           some
           do
           strive
           by
           paint
           ,
        
         
           To
           make
           the
           ugly
           Devil
           seem
           a
           Saint
           :
        
         
           Some
           have
           their
           faces
           with
           black
           Patches
           drest
           ,
        
         
           As
           thinking
           dapled
           Ladies
           will
           sell
           best
           :
        
         
           Methinks
           it
           seems
           as
           if
           some
           Feind
           did
           place
        
         
           The
           print
           of
           Hell
           burnt
           fingers
           on
           their
           face
           :
        
         
           Born
           with
           such
           spots
           should
           you
           your
           children
           see
           ,
        
         
           You
           'd
           call
           't
           no
           beauty
           ,
           but
           deformitie
           :
        
         
           God
           now
           sends
           spots
           ,
           as
           he
           would
           theirs
           deride
           ,
        
         
           And
           note
           to
           all
           ,
           that
           theirs
           is
           plaguie
           Pride
           :
        
         
           And
           now
           adays
           ,
           because
           within
           there
           rests
        
         
           So
           little
           Vertue
           in
           most
           womens
           brests
           ,
        
         
         
           (
           Which
           of
           old
           won
           them
           Husbands
           ,
           that
           would
           give
        
         
           Dowries
           to
           get
           a
           vertuous
           Wife
           to
           live
        
         
           With
           them
           ,
           as
           helps
           most
           meet
           ,
           and
           comforts
           sure
           ,
        
         
           Friends
           in
           both
           fortunes
           till
           death
           to
           endure
           ▪
           )
        
         
           Naked
           they
           expose
           them
           to
           youthful
           eyes
           ,
        
         
           Hoping
           ,
           if
           not
           true
           Love
           ,
           yet
           Lust
           may
           rise
        
         
           At
           such
           a
           sight
           ;
           and
           seizing
           on
           the
           heart
        
         
           Betray
           it
           unto
           them
           ,
           and
           the
           fond
           smart
        
         
           Of
           
           Cupid's
           flames
           ,
           while
           these
           do
           now
           deny
        
         
           What
           they
           would
           fainest
           grant
           ,
           and
           only
           try
           ,
        
         
           By
           sprinkling
           water
           to
           increase
           the
           fire
           ,
        
         
           By
           their
           denyal
           to
           augment
           desire
           :
        
         
           Thus
           hunt
           they
           for
           their
           dear
           ,
           and
           use
           some
           wile
        
         
           To
           bring
           the
           simple
           heart
           within
           their
           toil
           ▪
        
         
           Vertue
           can
           only
           it
           a
           subject
           make
           ;
        
         
           Beauty
           a
           wandring
           heart
           may
           captive
           take
           :
        
         
           And
           now
           our
           Ladies
           vanity
           ,
           and
           pride
           ,
        
         
           And
           their
           neglect
           of
           Huswifery
           beside
           ,
        
         
           Affright
           all
           sober
           men
           ,
           who
           fear
           to
           woo
           ,
        
         
           Lest
           they
           should
           court
           their
           woe
           in
           doing
           so
           ;
        
         
           Or
           with
           their
           wives
           will
           now
           some
           thousands
           have
        
         
           To
           keep
           them
           in
           the
           fashion
           fine
           ,
           and
           brave
           .
        
         
           What
           a
           fine
           life
           our
           Gallants
           live
           ?
           and
           yet
        
         
           'T
           were
           fine
           indeed
           ,
           if
           't
           were
           the
           way
           to
           get
        
         
           To
           Heav'n
           ,
           and
           its
           immortal
           happiness
           ;
        
         
           But
           they
           're
           beside
           the
           way
           I
           more
           than
           guess
           ;
        
         
           Whose
           days
           ,
           and
           years
           are
           always
           vainly
           spent
        
         
           In
           Dressing
           ,
           Mistressing
           ,
           and
           Complement
           ;
        
         
         
           Who
           rise
           ,
           and
           dress
           by
           noon
           ,
           come
           down
           and
           dine
           ,
        
         
           Then
           to
           a
           Play
           ,
           thence
           to
           the
           House
           of
           wine
           ,
        
         
           And
           so
           to
           bed
           ,
           it
           may
           be
           drunk
           before
           ;
        
         
           Perhaps
           all
           night
           embracing
           of
           an
           whore
           :
        
         
           If
           these
           be
           Christians
           ,
           where
           's
           their
           Masters
           badge
           ,
        
         
           The
           Cross
           ,
           and
           Self-denyal
           ?
           they
           can't
           fadge
        
         
           With
           these
           ;
           If
           such
           go
           hence
           to
           glory
           ,
        
         
           Hell
           ,
           and
           the
           Devil
           sure
           are
           but
           a
           story
           :
        
         
           The
           way
           to
           Heav'n
           is
           broadest
           sure
           ,
           if
           they
        
         
           Who
           wander
           thus
           ,
           can
           thither
           find
           the
           way
           :
        
         
           Pride
           doth
           usurp
           on
           God
           ,
           provoke
           him
           thus
        
         
           To
           plague
           us
           for
           't
           ,
           that
           he
           might
           humble
           us
           :
        
         
           And
           that
           proud
           City
           ,
           which
           lift
           up
           her
           hand
        
         
           Above
           the
           rest
           in
           pride
           ,
           full
           low
           is
           laid
           :
        
         
           The
           parent
           ,
           nurse
           ,
           spring
           ,
           stage
           ,
           of
           pride
           ,
           and
           vain
        
         
           Fashions
           ,
           and
           tricks
           ,
           which
           our
           Religion
           stain
           .
        
         
           And
           whose
           proud
           Dames
           out-vied
           in
           garishness
           ,
        
         
           Our
           modest
           Ladies
           in
           their
           Countrey
           dress
           .
        
         
           To
           all
           these
           sins
           ,
           wherewith
           this
           sinful
           Land
        
         
           Before
           the
           Lord
           of
           Heav'n
           doth
           guilty
           stand
           ,
        
         
           May
           many
           aggravations
           urged
           be
           ,
        
         
           From
           Gospel
           light
           ,
           whereby
           men
           clearly
           see
        
         
           The
           evil
           of
           these
           evils
           ,
           yet
           do
           they
        
         
           The
           works
           of
           darkness
           in
           the
           brightest
           day
           ;
        
         
           From
           great
           Ingratitude
           so
           plainly
           shown
           ,
        
         
           When
           God
           miraculously
           poured
           down
        
         
           Incomparable
           mercies
           on
           us
           ;
           those
           ,
        
         
           Who
           late
           opprest
           under
           their
           cruel
           foes
           ,
        
         
         
           Could
           own
           their
           sins
           the
           cause
           of
           all
           their
           woes
           ,
        
         
           Now
           freed
           from
           these
           ,
           return
           again
           to
           those
           :
        
         
           A
           King
           ,
           a
           Parliament
           ,
           a
           Church
           regain'd
        
         
           Peace
           ,
           Liberty
           ,
           Religion
           maintain'd
           ,
        
         
           Some
           desperate
           God-dammes
           do
           begin
        
         
           To
           war
           with
           Heav'n
           by
           their
           Gigantine
           sin
           :
        
         
           The
           roaring
           blades
           aloud
           do
           quickly
           call
        
         
           For
           thundring
           Vengeance
           on
           their
           heads
           to
           fall
           :
        
         
           When
           health
           ,
           and
           plenty
           ,
           joy
           ,
           and
           triumph
           ,
           crown'd
        
         
           Our
           Land
           ,
           our
           hainous
           sins
           apace
           abound
           :
        
         
           Swearing
           ,
           Carowsing
           ,
           Cheating
           ,
           Briberie
           ,
        
         
           Oppression
           ,
           Sacriledge
           ,
           and
           Simonie
           ,
        
         
           Pride
           ,
           lust
           ,
           and
           all
           the
           rout
           of
           sins
           o're-run
        
         
           Our
           Countrey
           ,
           so
           our
           joy
           ,
           and
           triumph's
           done
           :
        
         
           We
           first
           forsook
           the
           God
           of
           mercies
           ,
           and
        
         
           God
           makes
           his
           mercies
           to
           forsake
           our
           Land
           ;
        
         
           And
           now
           to
           mercy
           judgment
           doth
           succeed
           ;
        
         
           VVe
           surfeited
           ,
           and
           God
           doth
           make
           us
           bleed
           :
        
         
           Abundance
           of
           corruption
           sickness
           brings
           ;
        
         
           And
           heat
           of
           lust
           hath
           fir'd
           our
           pleasant
           things
           :
        
         
           Yet
           under
           all
           these
           Judgments
           are
           we
           still
        
         
           Incorrigible
           ,
           and
           perverse
           in
           ill
           :
        
         
           God
           may
           say
           ,
           I
           have
           sent
           the
           Pestilence
           ,
        
         
           That
           I
           might
           bring
           you
           to
           an
           humble
           sense
        
         
           Of
           sin
           :
           your
           young
           men
           with
           the
           Sword
           I
           slew
           :
        
         
           Your
           City
           I
           as
           Sodom
           overthrew
           :
        
         
           Yet
           have
           ye
           not
           returned
           unto
           me
           ;
        
         
           Therefore
           yet
           seven
           times
           more
           I
           'le
           punish
           ye
           :
        
         
         
           And
           thus
           of
           all
           our
           woes
           we
           see
           the
           cause
        
         
           Transgression
           is
           against
           Gods
           holy
           Laws
           :
        
         
           A
           Gospel
           unbecoming
           Conversation
        
         
           Provoketh
           God
           thus
           to
           afflict
           our
           Nation
           :
        
         
           And
           in
           the
           ripping
           up
           our
           sins
           to
           see
        
         
           The
           root
           ,
           and
           spring
           of
           all
           our
           miserie
           ,
        
         
           I
           would
           not
           have
           men
           think
           ,
           to
           any
           one
        
         
           Or
           sin
           ,
           or
           party
           ,
           I
           impute
           alone
        
         
           Our
           woes
           ,
           and
           judgments
           ,
           but
           to
           one
           ,
           and
           t'other
           ,
        
         
           To
           all
           ,
           and
           ev'ry
           one
           ,
           I
           would
           not
           smother
        
         
           My
           own
           ,
           or
           Friends
           ,
           but
           do
           desire
           that
           all
        
         
           Would
           think
           for
           their
           sins
           these
           things
           us
           befal
        
         
           And
           each
           apply
           the
           Plaister
           to
           his
           wound
           ,
        
         
           Which
           healing
           ev'ry
           one
           will
           make
           all
           sound
           :
        
         
           Nor
           need
           we
           doubt
           to
           have
           a
           perfect
           Cure
        
         
           If
           all
           will
           but
           the
           Remedy
           endure
           :
        
         
           Which
           now
           I
           shall
           consider
           of
           ,
           and
           try
           ,
        
         
           For
           all
           these
           woes
           to
           find
           a
           remedy
           .
        
      
       
         
           The
           Cure.
           
        
         
           ANd
           't
           is
           half
           wrought
           already
           ,
           since
           we
           see
        
         
           The
           inward
           cause
           of
           our
           sad
           maladie
           :
        
         
           Now
           to
           remove
           the
           cause
           is
           the
           most
           sure
        
         
           Way
           to
           effect
           a
           safe
           and
           speedy
           cure
           :
        
         
           And
           had
           I
           but
           good
           Patients
           ,
           then
           I
           might
        
         
           Promise
           a
           cure
           ,
           and
           lose
           no
           credit
           by
           't
           :
        
         
         
           But
           I
           must
           first
           the
           Patients
           court
           ,
           to
           let
        
         
           The
           Physick
           be
           apply'd
           ,
           for
           they
           as
           yet
           ,
        
         
           How
           sick
           soever
           ,
           scorn
           our
           Ministry
           ,
        
         
           Who
           would
           the
           healing
           Remedies
           apply
           :
        
         
           In
           bodily
           Diseases
           they
           will
           hie
        
         
           Them
           quickly
           to
           Physicians
           ,
           lest
           they
           die
           ,
        
         
           Send
           ,
           pray
           ,
           and
           pay
           ,
           take
           what
           's
           prescrib'd
           ,
           endure
        
         
           All
           pains
           ,
           and
           tortures
           ,
           for
           a
           speedy
           cure
           :
        
         
           But
           in
           their
           Soul
           distempers
           will
           not
           give
        
         
           An
           ear
           to
           sound
           advice
           ,
           nor
           seek
           to
           live
           :
        
         
           And
           when
           we
           freely
           offer
           ,
           do
           disgust
        
         
           Our
           wholsom
           Physick
           ,
           such
           needs
           perish
           must
           :
        
         
           Is
           Earth
           less
           worth
           than
           Heav'n
           ?
           or
           is
           the
           Soul
        
         
           Less
           to
           be
           valued
           than
           the
           Body
           soul
           ?
        
         
           No
           reason
           can
           you
           thus
           preposterous
           make
           ;
        
         
           We
           keep
           the
           Casket
           for
           the
           Jewels
           sake
           :
        
         
           Or
           if
           this
           transitory
           life
           now
           is
        
         
           In
           more
           esteem
           than
           Heav'ns
           immortal
           bliss
           ,
        
         
           Yet
           take
           our
           counsel
           ,
           and
           our
           medicines
           ,
           seeing
        
         
           They
           're
           for
           the
           welfare
           of
           your
           present
           being
           :
        
         
           Receive
           ,
           apply
           ,
           and
           let
           them
           work
           ,
           they
           health
           ,
        
         
           Temporal
           ,
           and
           eternal
           peace
           ,
           and
           wealth
        
         
           Do
           bring
           :
           And
           now
           these
           Remedies
           so
           rare
        
         
           Repentance
           ,
           Faith
           ,
           and
           true
           Obedience
           are
           :
        
         
           Repentance
           takes
           away
           the
           cause
           of
           woe
           ,
        
         
           Faith
           reconciles
           us
           unto
           God
           ,
           and
           so
        
         
           Future
           Obedience
           will
           our
           bliss
           secure
           ,
        
         
           From
           age
           to
           age
           for
           ever
           to
           endure
           .
        
         
         
           Go
           mourning
           ,
           and
           hold
           up
           your
           guilty
           hand
        
         
           Before
           Gods
           bar
           ,
           there
           self-condemned
           stand
           ;
        
         
           The
           way
           here
           to
           be
           sav'd
           is
           to
           confess
           ,
        
         
           Your
           sins
           cloak
           not
           ,
           excuse
           not
           ,
           nor
           make
           less
           ;
        
         
           But
           aggravate
           them
           all
           ,
           mercy
           implore
           ,
        
         
           From
           him
           who
           keepeth
           mercy
           still
           in
           store
        
         
           For
           penitent
           offenders
           ,
           ever
           will
        
         
           Exalt
           the
           humble
           ,
           and
           the
           mournful
           fill
        
         
           VVith
           Oyl
           of
           gladness
           ,
           never
           will
           despise
           ,
        
         
           But
           with
           delight
           accepts
           the
           Sacrifice
        
         
           Of
           broken-hearts
           ,
           and
           binds
           them
           up
           and
           heals
        
         
           The
           wounded
           Spirit
           ,
           which
           compunction
           feels
           :
        
         
           Before
           Gods
           foot-stool
           therefore
           prostrate
           lie
           ,
        
         
           Cry
           guilty
           Lord
           ,
           confess
           ,
           or
           else
           you
           die
           :
        
         
           Judge
           ,
           and
           condemn
           your selves
           ,
           if
           you
           would
           save
        
         
           Your selves
           ,
           with
           God
           such
           only
           pardon
           have
           .
        
         
           Relent
           ,
           repent
           ,
           reform
           ,
           and
           throughly
           purge
        
         
           Away
           your
           sins
           ,
           and
           God
           will
           take
           his
           scourge
           ,
        
         
           And
           Plague
           away
           ,
           with
           him
           make
           but
           your
           peace
           ,
        
         
           And
           he
           will
           make
           your
           VVars
           with
           men
           to
           cease
           ,
        
         
           Or
           us
           Victor
           ;
           quench
           but
           the
           flames
           of
           lust
           ,
        
         
           And
           he
           will
           raise
           the
           City
           from
           the
           dust
           .
        
         
           That
           kindled
           first
           Gods
           wrath
           ,
           and
           this
           the
           flame
        
         
           VVhich
           sit'd
           the
           City
           of
           so
           ancient
           fame
           :
        
         
           For
           this
           bow
           down
           before
           Gods
           Throne
           ,
           and
           kneel
           ,
        
         
           This
           fire
           might
           melt
           you
           ,
           if
           you
           were
           all
           steel
           ,
        
         
           Into
           some
           godly
           sorrow
           ;
           lie
           as
           low
        
         
           As
           doth
           your
           City
           ,
           and
           bemone
           your
           woe
           .
        
         
         
           Repent
           in
           dust
           ,
           and
           ashes
           ,
           as
           that
           lies
           ,
        
         
           And
           God
           will
           make
           it
           Phoenix
           like
           to
           rise
        
         
           From
           Funeral
           ashes
           ,
           London
           then
           shall
           yee
        
         
           More
           glorious
           in
           its
           Resurrection
           see
           :
        
         
           Might
           this
           fire
           be
           the
           Cities
           Purgatory
           ,
        
         
           God
           would
           restore
           it
           with
           far
           greater
           glory
           :
        
         
           Thus
           if
           Repentance
           make
           our
           peace
           with
           God
           ,
        
         
           VVe
           may
           believe
           he
           'l
           throw
           away
           his
           Rod
           :
        
         
           VVithout
           Repencance
           Faith
           presumption
           is
           ,
        
         
           And
           finds
           no
           mercy
           ;
           but
           when
           mixt
           with
           this
        
         
           It
           never
           fails
           to
           find
           ,
           and
           sure
           ground
           hath
        
         
           For
           hope
           ,
           and
           trust
           ,
           and
           then
           indeed
           't
           is
           faith
           :
        
         
           If
           we
           repent
           ,
           it
           's
           the
           Condition
           still
        
         
           Imply'd
           in
           every
           Promise
           ,
           that
           God
           will
        
         
           Prevent
           ,
           or
           take
           away
           his
           Judgments
           ,
           but
        
         
           Th'
           impenitent
           the
           door
           of
           mercy
           shut
        
         
           Against
           themselves
           ,
           and
           lock
           themselves
           in
           woe
           ,
        
         
           Keep
           then
           your
           sorrows
           ,
           or
           your
           sins
           forgoe
           :
        
         
           But
           if
           we
           do
           repent
           ,
           we
           then
           may
           trust
           ,
        
         
           God
           will
           forgive
           us
           because
           he
           is
           just
           :
        
         
           Then
           pray
           in
           faith
           ,
           with
           hearty
           Supplication
           ,
        
         
           That
           God
           would
           pardon
           this
           our
           sinful
           Nation
           ,
        
         
           Remove
           his
           heavy
           hand
           ,
           send
           peace
           and
           health
           ,
        
         
           Repair
           our
           ruines
           ,
           and
           restore
           our
           wealth
           .
        
         
           Go
           sin
           no
           more
           ,
           but
           henceforth
           him
           obey
           ,
        
         
           So
           shall
           our
           Kingdom
           flourish
           ,
           and
           all
           they
        
         
           VVho
           seek
           its
           ruine
           shall
           confounded
           be
           ,
        
         
           And
           snar'd
           in
           their
           subtile
           iniquitie
           :
        
         
         
           No
           force
           ,
           nor
           fraud
           shall
           hurt
           a
           righteous
           Cause
           ,
        
         
           Manag'd
           by
           such
           as
           keep
           th'
           Almighty's
           Laws
           :
        
         
           But
           we
           oft
           see
           the
           juster
           cause
           o'rethrown
        
         
           In
           sinners
           hands
           ,
           who
           hardly
           God
           will
           own
           ,
        
         
           The
           stronger
           party
           to
           the
           weak
           a
           prey
           ,
        
         
           When
           they
           will
           not
           the
           Lord
           of
           Hosts
           obey
           .
        
         
           If
           God
           be
           for
           us
           ,
           who
           can
           us
           defeat
           ?
        
         
           If
           he
           against
           us
           ,
           where
           shall
           we
           retreat
        
         
           For
           refuge
           ?
           If
           we
           him
           against
           us
           arm
        
         
           Whom
           all
           the
           creatures
           serve
           ,
           what
           cannot
           harm
        
         
           And
           ruine
           us
           ?
           The
           Angels
           take
           Gods
           pay
           ,
        
         
           And
           one
           of
           them
           a
           mighty
           Host
           can
           slay
           :
        
         
           The
           Stars
           in
           their
           swift
           course
           do
           slyly
           fight
        
         
           Gods
           battels
           against
           sinners
           day
           ,
           and
           night
           :
        
         
           Clouds
           are
           his
           Canons
           ,
           swift
           destruction
           fling
        
         
           By
           Thunder
           ,
           and
           their
           Lightnings
           vengeance
           bring
        
         
           By
           fire
           on
           sinful
           mortals
           :
           and
           the
           wind
        
         
           Brings
           on
           its
           wings
           oft
           ruine
           to
           mankind
           :
        
         
           The
           calmer
           air
           convey
           the
           Pestilence
           ,
        
         
           Whereby
           death
           steals
           into
           us
           without
           sense
           :
        
         
           The
           Earth
           is
           iron
           ,
           and
           the
           Heav'ns
           are
           brass
           ,
        
         
           When
           threatned
           Famine
           God
           will
           bring
           to
           pass
           !
        
         
           Earth
           once
           did
           open
           ,
           and
           take
           Rebels
           in
        
         
           Alive
           ,
           as
           if
           it
           could
           not
           bear
           that
           sin
           :
        
         
           The
           Seas
           do
           pass
           their
           bounds
           ,
           and
           us
           o'reflow
        
         
           With
           mischeif
           ,
           when
           God
           bids
           them
           further
           go
           :
        
         
           Frogs
           ,
           Locusts
           ,
           Caterpillars
           ,
           creeping
           things
           ,
        
         
           Will
           take
           the
           Palaces
           of
           mighty
           Kings
        
         
         
           When
           God
           doth
           arm
           them
           ,
           and
           their
           persons
           seise
           ,
        
         
           And
           in
           a
           Land
           devour
           all
           (
           when
           God
           doth
           please
           )
        
         
           That
           's
           fair
           ,
           and
           fruitful
           :
           Even
           our
           breath
           infects
           ,
        
         
           Our
           very
           dust
           turns
           Lice
           ,
           or
           some
           Insects
        
         
           To
           infest
           sinful
           men
           ;
           A
           Fly
           't
           is
           spoke
        
         
           Ventur'd
           a
           Pope
           infallibly
           to
           choke
           :
        
         
           Could
           he
           Souls
           out
           of
           Purgatory
           vote
           ,
        
         
           And
           yet
           not
           keep
           a
           Fly
           out
           of
           his
           throat
           ?
        
         
           But
           thus
           we
           see
           ,
           when
           God
           gives
           them
           Commission
           ,
        
         
           The
           feeblest
           Creatures
           give
           us
           expedition
        
         
           Into
           another
           world
           :
           who
           God
           not
           fears
        
         
           Hath
           all
           the
           world
           in
           Arms
           about
           his
           ears
           :
        
         
           While
           Man
           his
           Maker
           serves
           ,
           he
           's
           Lord
           of
           these
           ;
        
         
           But
           when
           he
           sins
           they
           are
           his
           Enemies
           :
        
         
           When
           we
           provoke
           our
           God
           ,
           where
           e're
           we
           go
           ,
        
         
           Each
           creature
           looks
           upon
           us
           as
           a
           foe
           :
        
         
           God
           will
           protect
           ,
           and
           bless
           his
           servants
           ,
           but
        
         
           They
           who
           rebel
           ,
           no
           confidence
           can
           put
        
         
           In
           him
           :
           Since
           to
           believe
           ,
           and
           not
           obey
           ,
        
         
           Self
           flatt'ry
           is
           no
           faith
           ,
           henceforth
           I
           pray
           ,
        
         
           Le
           ts
           lay
           the
           sure
           foundation
           of
           our
           trust
           ,
        
         
           In
           purposes
           to
           keep
           his
           Laws
           most
           just
           :
        
         
           Then
           may
           we
           trust
           he
           will
           our
           Plagues
           remove
           ,
        
         
           And
           showr
           down
           blessings
           on
           us
           from
           above
           :
        
         
           When
           we
           do
           purpose
           to
           endeavour
           ,
           and
        
         
           Do
           strive
           to
           purpose
           to
           keep
           his
           command
           :
        
         
           Begin
           a
           new
           course
           then
           ,
           and
           never
           cease
        
         
           To
           walk
           in
           Gods
           ways
           ,
           for
           his
           ways
           are
           peace
           ,
        
         
         
           And
           pleasantness
           ,
           to
           bear
           Christs
           yoke
           delight
           ;
        
         
           His
           yoke
           is
           easie
           ,
           and
           his
           burthen
           light
           :
        
         
           To
           sin
           is
           no
           light
           thing
           ,
           did
           it
           not
           press
        
         
           Legions
           of
           Angels
           to
           the
           bottomless
        
         
           Infernal
           pit
           from
           highest
           glory
           ?
           hath
        
         
           Not
           man
           by
           weight
           of
           sin
           been
           prest
           to
           death
           ?
        
         
           Look
           upon
           worldly
           wealth
           ,
           and
           count
           it
           dross
           ;
        
         
           Deny
           your selves
           ,
           take
           up
           your
           Saviours
           Cross
           ;
        
         
           The
           worlds
           crown
           hath
           its
           cross
           ,
           his
           cross
           a
           Crown
           ,
        
         
           Her
           smiles
           betray
           ,
           more
           safety's
           in
           her
           frown
           .
        
         
           Give
           unto
           Caesar
           ,
           and
           to
           God
           their
           due
           .
        
         
           Fear
           God
           honour
           the
           King
           ,
           to
           both
           be
           true
           :
        
         
           Since
           God
           is
           one
           ,
           so
           let
           your
           heart
           be
           ,
           and
        
         
           Serve
           him
           with
           one
           heart
           after
           his
           command
           .
        
         
           Think
           not
           your
           wit
           a
           better
           way
           can
           find
        
         
           To
           worship
           God
           ,
           than
           what
           is
           his
           own
           mind
           :
        
         
           Take
           not
           his
           Sacred
           Name
           in
           vain
           ,
           nor
           swear
        
         
           Profanely
           ,
           but
           with
           reverence
           ,
           and
           fear
        
         
           Mention
           Gods
           holy
           Name
           ,
           in
           Justice
           ,
           Truth
           ,
        
         
           And
           Judgment
           ,
           when
           call'd
           to
           it
           ,
           take
           an
           Oath
           .
        
         
           Observe
           the
           holy
           Times
           ,
           grudge
           not
           to
           spare
        
         
           Some
           time
           each
           day
           for
           holy
           thoughts
           ,
           and
           pray'r
           ;
        
         
           But
           on
           the
           days
           to
           worship
           consecrate
           ,
        
         
           Divide
           not
           betwixt
           God
           ,
           and
           Mammon
           ,
           hate
        
         
           To
           rob
           God
           ,
           and
           your
           Souls
           ,
           be
           wholly
           given
        
         
           To
           holy
           Service
           ,
           grudge
           not
           one
           in
           seven
        
         
           To
           him
           that
           made
           them
           all
           ,
           nor
           yet
           refuse
        
         
           The
           Churches
           holy
           days
           ,
           as
           such
           to
           use
           :
        
         
         
           Nor
           count
           to
           pray
           scarce
           worth
           your
           coming
           there
           ,
        
         
           Since
           God
           doth
           style
           his
           House
           ,
           the
           house
           of
           Pray'r
           .
        
         
           Honour
           your
           Parents
           of
           all
           sorts
           ,
           and
           show
        
         
           To
           Prince
           ,
           and
           Priest
           the
           rev'rence
           that
           you
           owe
           :
        
         
           Their
           nakedness
           when
           spy'd
           lament
           ,
           and
           bide
           ;
        
         
           And
           not
           like
           Cham
           discover
           ,
           and
           deride
           .
        
         
           Hate
           not
           your
           brother
           ,
           have
           no
           murtherous
           thought
           :
        
         
           Remember
           what
           dire
           Vengeance
           murther
           brought
        
         
           On
           Cain
           ,
           and
           under
           no
           pretence
           be
           killing
           ;
        
         
           Religion
           cannot
           justifie
           blood-spilling
           .
        
         
           Make
           clean
           your
           hearts
           ,
           and
           keep
           your
           bodies
           free
        
         
           From
           Fornication
           ,
           and
           Adulterie
           :
        
         
           They
           are
           the
           Temples
           of
           the
           Lord
           ,
           be
           sure
        
         
           The
           holy
           Spirit
           hath
           a
           mansion
           pure
        
         
           In
           you
           ;
           That
           Dove
           likes
           not
           a
           cage
           unclean
           :
        
         
           You
           'l
           be
           th'
           unclean
           Spirits
           den
           ,
           if
           obscaene
           .
        
         
           Be
           just
           ,
           and
           honest
           ,
           and
           do
           no
           man
           wrong
           ,
        
         
           Nor
           cheat
           ,
           and
           cosen
           with
           a
           double
           tongue
           ;
        
         
           Ill
           gotten
           goods
           do
           not
           increase
           your
           wealth
           ,
        
         
           But
           are
           the
           rust
           ,
           that
           wasts
           by
           secret
           stealth
           :
        
         
           Think
           not
           you
           gain
           ,
           when
           you
           a
           curse
           do
           get
           ,
        
         
           This
           is
           a
           Canker
           ,
           and
           will
           surely
           fret
           .
        
         
           Accuse
           thou
           no
           man
           falsely
           ,
           nor
           defame
        
         
           Thy
           neighbour
           ,
           tender
           as
           thine
           own
           ,
           his
           Name
           :
        
         
           The
           Angel
           durst
           not
           on
           the
           Devil
           rail
           ;
        
         
           And
           shall
           we
           call
           them
           Saints
           ,
           who
           do
           not
           fail
        
         
           Prince
           ,
           Prelates
           ,
           Priests
           ,
           &
           all
           their
           friends
           to
           slander
           ;
        
         
           Nor
           spare
           the
           Church
           their
           Mother
           ,
           but
           will
           brand
        
         
         
           With
           Calumnies
           ,
           their
           Schism
           to
           justifie
           :
        
         
           Bad
           is
           the
           Cause
           sure
           ,
           which
           doth
           need
           a
           lie
        
         
           For
           its
           support
           ;
           and
           shall
           they
           not
           be
           had
        
         
           In
           more
           esteem
           ,
           whom
           foes
           by
           lies
           make
           bad
           ?
        
         
           Father
           of
           lies
           the
           Devil
           's
           rightly
           styl'd
           ;
        
         
           And
           he
           who
           like
           him
           is
           ,
           is
           his
           own
           child
           :
        
         
           His
           own
           brood
           then
           are
           sure
           the
           Sectaries
           ,
        
         
           Whose
           constant
           Trade
           is
           to
           be
           telling
           lies
           :
        
         
           Truth
           unto
           ev'ry
           one
           ,
           or
           friend
           ,
           or
           foe
           ,
        
         
           In
           Justice
           ,
           and
           in
           Charity
           we
           owe.
        
         
           Accuse
           not
           God
           as
           the
           Heretick
           doth
           ,
        
         
           Who
           broaches
           his
           own
           Error
           ,
           for
           Gods
           Truth
           .
        
         
           Beware
           of
           Covetousness
           the
           root
           of
           Evil
           !
        
         
           Mammon
           of
           all
           the
           swarm's
           ,
           the
           Master
           Devil
           :
        
         
           Love
           not
           the
           world
           ,
           nor
           sell
           thy
           Soul
           for
           coine
           ;
        
         
           Thy
           Soul
           's
           a
           richer
           Jewel
           ,
           than
           doth
           shine
        
         
           In
           this
           inferior
           Orb
           ,
           keep
           that
           ,
           and
           quit
        
         
           Thy
           wealth
           ,
           wealth
           's
           of
           no
           worth
           and
           price
           to
           it
           .
        
         
           Love
           God
           ,
           thy
           Soul
           ,
           thy
           Friend
           ,
           covet
           more
           grace
           ;
        
         
           And
           care
           to
           see
           in
           Heav'n
           thy
           Saviours
           face
           .
        
         
           Leave
           Drunkenness
           ,
           and
           lew'd
           debauchery
           ,
        
         
           Your
           Nations
           ,
           and
           Religions
           infamy
           ,
        
         
           Your
           souls
           ,
           and
           bodies
           ruine
           ,
           families
           bane
           ,
        
         
           Estates
           consumption
           ,
           only
           Devils
           gain
           :
        
         
           God
           made
           you
           Man
           ,
           make
           not
           your self
           a
           Beast
           ;
        
         
           Drink
           of
           its
           Reason
           will
           your
           mind
           divest
           :
        
         
           Drink
           to
           refreshment
           ,
           not
           to
           sottishness
           ;
        
         
           By
           healths
           to
           lose
           your
           own
           is
           ●o●●ishness
           ;
        
         
         
           Stay
           at
           the
           third
           glass
           ,
           keeping
           still
           the
           round
        
         
           Doth
           often
           spill
           the
           drinkers
           on
           the
           ground
           :
        
         
           Custom
           ,
           continuance
           makes
           the
           Wine
           inflame
           ,
        
         
           Then
           in
           thy
           Face
           beholders
           see
           thy
           shame
           .
        
         
           Leave
           foolish
           Pride
           ,
           and
           garish
           vanity
           ,
        
         
           And
           cloath
           your selves
           with
           neat
           Humility
           :
        
         
           Meekness
           ,
           and
           Grace
           ,
           with
           neatness
           more
           adorn
           ,
        
         
           Than
           all
           the
           foolish
           Fashions
           which
           are
           worn
           .
        
         
           Let
           not
           Gods
           Mercies
           be
           by
           us
           neglected
           ;
        
         
           Nor
           all
           his
           Judgments
           leave
           us
           uncorrected
           :
        
         
           His
           showrs
           of
           Blessings
           be
           more
           fruitful
           under
           ,
        
         
           And
           let
           his
           hammering
           Judgments
           break
           asunder
        
         
           Your
           rocky
           Hearts
           ,
           the
           means
           of
           Grace
           regard
           ;
        
         
           Walk
           in
           the
           Light
           ,
           and
           Light
           shall
           you
           reward
           ,
        
         
           Light
           of
           Gods
           countenance
           in
           heav'nly
           bliss
        
         
           Where
           neither
           Fire
           ,
           nor
           VVar
           ,
           nor
           Sickness
           is
           :
        
         
           Nay
           did
           we
           thus
           ,
           I
           doubt
           not
           God
           would
           send
        
         
           Us
           here
           Peace
           ,
           Health
           ,
           and
           Joy
           ,
           our
           Times
           amend
           :
        
         
           And
           with
           our
           former
           blessings
           prosper
           us
           ,
        
         
           For
           the
           days
           wherein
           we
           're
           afflicted
           thus
           :
        
         
           VVhich
           that
           our
           God
           ,
           and
           Saviour
           quickly
           may
           ;
        
         
           Let
           us
           repent
           ,
           return
           ,
           and
           humbly
           pray
           .
        
         
           Deo
           gloria
           in
           excelsis
           .
        
         
           FINIS
           .
        
      
       
         
         
           
             *
             PSAL.
             118.6
             ,
             7
             ,
             10.
             
          
           
             6.
             
             The
             Lord
             is
             on
             my
             side
             ,
             I
             will
             not
             fesr
             what
             man
             can
             do
             unto
             me
             .
          
           
             7.
             
             The
             Lord
             taketh
             my
             part
             with
             them
             that
             help
             me
             ,
             therefore
             shall
             I
             see
             my
             desire
             upon
             them
             that
             hate
             me
             .
          
           
             10.
             
             All
             Nations
             compassed
             me
             about
             ,
             but
             in
             the
             Name
             of
             the
             Lord
             will
             I
             destroy
             them
             .
          
        
         
           
             PSAL.
             91.
             
          
           
             Surely
             he
             shall
             deliver
             thee
             from
             the
             snare
             of
             the
             Fowler
             and
             from
             the
             noysome
             Pestilence
             .
          
           
             He
             shall
             cover
             thee
             with
             his
             feathers
             ,
             and
             under
             his
             wings
             shalt
             thou
             trust
             ,
             his
             truth
             shall
             be
             thy
             shield
             and
             buckler
             ,
             &c.
             
          
           
             Thou
             shalt
             not
             be
             afraid
             of
             the
             terror
             be
             night
             ,
             nor
             for
             the
             Arrow
             that
             flyeth
             by
             day
             .
          
           
             Nor
             for
             the
             Pestilence
             which
             walketh
             in
             darkness
             ,
             nor
             for
             the
             Destruction
             which
             wasteth
             at
             noon
             day
             .
          
           
             A
             Thousand
             shall
             fall
             at
             thy
             side
             ,
             and
             Ten
             thousand
             at
             thy
             right
             hand
             ,
             but
             it
             shall
             not
             come
             nigh
             thee
             .
          
        
         
           
             JER
             .
             30.
             
          
           
             18.
             
             Thus
             saith
             the
             Lord
             ,
             Behold
             !
             I
             will
             bring
             again
             the
             Captivity
             of
             Jacobs
             Tents
             ,
             and
             have
             mercy
             on
             his
             dwelling
             places
             ,
             and
             the
             City
             shall
             be
             builded
             upon
             her
             own
             heap
             ,
             and
             the
             Palace
             shall
             remain
             after
             the
             manner
             thereof
             .
          
           
             19.
             
             And
             out
             of
             them
             shall
             proceed
             Thanksgiving
             ,
             and
             the
             voyce
             of
             them
             that
             make
             merry
             ,
             and
             I
             will
             multiply
             them
             ,
             &c.
             
             I
             will
             also
             glorifie
             them
             ,
             &c.
             
          
           
             20.
             
             Their
             Children
             also
             shall
             be
             as
             afore-time
             ,
             &c.
             
          
           
             And
             I
             will
             punish
             all
             them
             that
             oppress
             them
             ,
             &c.
             
          
        
      
       
         
         
           A
           Cordial
           to
           Chear
           our
           Spirits
           under
           our
           Calamities
           *
           .
        
         
           
             (
             1.
             )
          
           
             WHen
             force
             of
             Physick
             quite
             hath
             put
             to
             rout
             ,
          
           
             The
             noxious
             humors
             did
             within
             us
             reign
             ,
          
           
             The
             vital
             Spirits
             almost
             tired
             out
          
           
             By
             the
             long
             conflict
             which
             they
             did
             maintain
             ;
          
           
             The
             wise
             Physician
             doth
             some
             Cordial
             give
          
           
             The
             Patients
             fainting
             Spirits
             to
             revive
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             2.
             )
          
           
             Thus
             when
             by
             mournful
             conflicts
             we
             have
             won
          
           
             The
             day
             of
             sin
             ,
             and
             hope
             our
             woes
             do
             slie
             :
          
           
             Lest
             tim'rous
             hearts
             into
             despair
             do
             run
             ,
          
           
             And
             when
             the
             cure
             is
             wrought
             begin
             to
             die
             ;
          
           
             'T
             is
             not
             amiss
             to
             give
             some
             Consolation
          
           
             To
             chear
             the
             Spirit
             of
             an
             humbled
             Nation
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             3.
             )
          
           
             And
             if
             indeed
             the
             mighty
             Hand
             of
             God
          
           
             Hath
             duly
             humbled
             us
             ,
             we
             need
             not
             fear
             ,
          
           
             We
             once
             corrected
             ,
             he
             'l
             reject
             the
             Rod
             ;
          
           
             And
             from
             our
             mournful
             eyes
             wipe
             ev'ry
             tear
             ;
          
           
             His
             face
             on
             us
             shall
             shine
             ,
             frown
             on
             our
             foes
             ,
          
           
             And
             from
             our
             Land
             to
             theirs
             transmit
             our
             woes
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             (
             4.
             )
          
           
             Chear
             up
             brave
             English
             ,
             fear
             no
             foe
             but
             sin
             !
          
           
             Though
             the
             ingrateful
             Dutch
             ,
             and
             Dane
             combine
             ,
          
           
             And
             proud
             French
             bustle
             ,
             these
             shall
             nothing
             win
             ,
          
           
             But
             shame
             ,
             and
             slaughter
             from
             Gods
             hand
             ,
             and
             thine
          
           
             Thy
             thundring
             Guns
             shall
             shake
             the
             Belgick
             shore
             ,
          
           
             Their
             Lyon
             (a)
             couch
             ,
             when
             ours
             do
             rowse
             &
             roar
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             5.
             )
          
           
             Their
             Lyon
             once
             was
             a
             poor
             sneaking
             Curr
          
           
             Broke
             from
             Spains
             Castle
             (b)
             ,
             croucht
             to
             us
             ,
             to
             gain
          
           
             Our
             aid
             ,
             in
             which
             had
             we
             but
             made
             demurr
             ,
          
           
             He
             soon
             had
             been
             remanded
             to
             his
             chain
             .
          
           
             We
             succour'd
             him
             until
             he
             freedom
             knew
             ,
          
           
             Shook
             chain
             ,
             and
             Master
             (c)
             off
             ,
             and
             Rampant
             grew
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             6.
             )
          
           
             The
             poor
             Distressed
             States
             came
             Suppliants
             then
             ,
          
           
             Now
             ,
             High
             and
             Mighty
             grown
             ,
             they
             have
             forgot
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             blood
             and
             treasure
             helpt
             to
             make
             them
             men
             ,
          
           
             'T
             was
             the
             brave
             
               English
               ,
               Holland
            
             was
             it
             not
             ?
          
           
             Methinks
             while
             lives
             the
             noble
             name
             of
             Vere
             ,
          
           
             The
             Dutch
             should
             blush
             '
             gainst
             England
             to
             appear
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             7.
             )
          
           
             The
             valiant
             Acts
             of
             the
             brave
             Veres
             for
             these
             ,
          
           
             A
             second
             
             Caesar's
             Commentaries
             make
             ,
          
           
             Which
             whosoe're
             surveys
             ,
             from
             thence
             with
             ease
          
           
             The
             height
             of
             Dutch
             ingratitude
             may
             take
             ,
          
           
           
             Who
             by
             our
             Armies
             raised
             to
             their
             height
             ,
          
           
             To
             do
             us
             mischief
             ,
             still
             employ
             their
             might
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             8.
             )
          
           
             And
             who
             may
             trust
             a
             Rebel
             ,
             or
             expect
          
           
             To
             find
             a
             Traytor
             prove
             a
             faithful
             Friend
             ,
          
           
             Who
             violate
             Allegiance
             ,
             will
             neglect
          
           
             All
             Articles
             with
             others
             for
             their
             end
             :
          
           
             We
             hatcht
             them
             ,
             thinking
             we
             should
             find
             a
             Dove
             ,
          
           
             Come
             forth
             ,
             and
             loe
             !
             it
             doth
             a
             Serpent
             prove
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             9.
             )
          
           
             Like
             Serpents
             of
             a
             vip'rous
             brood
             ,
             which
             strive
          
           
             To
             kill
             the
             Parent
             gave
             them
             life
             ,
             and
             growth
             ;
          
           
             These
             who
             by
             our
             Protection
             first
             did
             thrive
             ,
          
           
             To
             let
             us
             live
             by
             whom
             they
             live
             are
             loath
             :
          
           
             But
             now
             we
             shall
             ,
             if
             Stars
             speak
             right
             their
             fates
             ,
          
           
             Bring
             down
             the
             Mighty
             to
             Distressed
             States
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             10.
             )
          
           
             So
             do
             our
             Magi
             read
             in
             Heav'ns
             bright
             Book
             ,
          
           
             (
             God
             grant
             who
             rules
             the
             Stars
             ,
             they
             may
             not
             err
             ,
             )
          
           
             The
             shaggy
             Comets
             have
             their
             mischief
             shook
          
           
             On
             us
             ,
             now
             will
             as
             much
             to
             them
             transferr
             :
          
           
             Heav'n
             hath
             ,
             and
             will
             still
             take
             our
             part
             no
             doubt
             ,
          
           
             Th'
             Almighty
             can
             the
             high
             and
             mighty
             rout
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             11.
             )
          
           
             Just
             are
             thy
             ways
             O
             God
             ,
             thy
             Judgments
             right
             ,
          
           
             But
             we
             to
             thee
             ,
             our
             foes
             to
             us
             ingrate
             ,
          
           
             Therefore
             at
             Land
             thou
             justly
             us
             do
             smite
             ,
          
           
             And
             them
             for
             us
             at
             Sea
             dost
             dissipate
             :
          
           
           
             We
             humbled
             under
             thy
             correcting
             pow'r
             ,
          
           
             Them
             thou
             wilt
             quickly
             humble
             under
             our
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             12.
             )
          
           
             Thrice
             have
             the
             vaunting
             Belgians
             come
             to
             show
          
           
             Their
             numerous
             Navy
             ,
             by
             constraint
             did
             fight
             ;
          
           
             Thrice
             have
             the
             braver
             English
             made
             them
             know
             ,
          
           
             Their
             safety
             's
             best
             pursu'd
             by
             hasty
             slight
             :
          
           
             Twice
             their
             expecting
             people
             saw
             them
             come
          
           
             As
             prey
             before
             the
             English
             hunted
             home
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             13.
             )
          
           
             Once
             when
             unlucky
             shot
             disabled
             quite
          
           
             Our
             Gen'rals
             Ships
             that
             they
             could
             not
             pursue
             ,
          
           
             They
             getting
             home
             ,
             brag'd
             they
             beat
             us
             out-right
             ,
          
           
             But
             to
             get
             home
             with
             them
             is
             to
             subdue
             :
          
           
             And
             a
             Thanksgiving
             wisely
             they
             observ'd
             ,
          
           
             For
             that
             so
             many
             of
             them
             were
             preserv'd
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             14.
             )
          
           
             But
             stay
             my
             Muse
             !
             and
             on
             the
             peaceful
             shore
          
           
             Behold
             the
             martial
             combates
             on
             the
             Seas
             ,
          
           
             Such
             as
             no
             age
             ere
             veiwed
             heretofore
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             will
             succeeding
             times
             see
             after
             these
             :
          
           
             Where
             God
             pays
             home
             ingratitude
             and
             pride
             ;
          
           
             Giving
             the
             Conquest
             to
             our
             juster
             side
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             15.
             )
          
           
             His
             Royal
             Highness
             first
             in
             Person
             goes
             ,
          
           
             With
             him
             the
             brave
             Prince
             Rupert
             ,
             each
             of
             these
          
           
             More
             worth
             than
             all
             the
             Navy
             of
             our
             foes
             ,
          
           
             Whom
             the
             bold
             Opdam
             did
             not
             doubt
             to
             seise
             :
          
           
           
             With
             what
             odds
             fought
             we
             them
             ?
             if
             richest
             prize
          
           
             Can
             whet
             the
             Valour
             of
             our
             Enemies
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             16.
             )
          
           
             The
             Fleets
             engag'd
             (d)
             and
             a
             fierce
             conflict
             grew
             ,
          
           
             The
             clouds
             of
             smoke
             obscur'd
             the
             midday
             Sun
             ,
          
           
             From
             thund'ring
             Canons
             storms
             of
             bullets
             flew
          
           
             Driving
             out
             souls
             ,
             while
             streams
             of
             blood
             do
             run
          
           
             From
             shatter'd
             bodies
             ,
             as
             sometimes
             you
             shall
          
           
             In
             sudden
             showres
             see
             rain
             from
             houses
             fall
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             17.
             )
          
           
             The
             frighted
             Sun
             himself
             i'
             th'
             smoke
             doth
             shroud
             ,
          
           
             And
             threatens
             night
             so
             soon
             as
             day
             's
             begun
             ;
          
           
             To
             do
             his
             office
             ,
             from
             no
             thundring
             cloud
          
           
             Lightning
             breaks
             forth
             ,
             but
             from
             the
             louder
             Gun
             :
          
           
             When
             peaceful
             Heav'n
             denies
             its
             purer
             light
          
           
             To
             mortals
             rage
             ,
             by
             their
             own
             fire
             they
             fight
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             18.
             )
          
           
             Forth
             from
             the
             deadly
             Engines
             sirie
             womb
          
           
             The
             sp'rit'ous
             Peter
             bursting
             rends
             the
             skies
             ,
          
           
             And
             flaming
             Sulpher
             raises
             foaming
             scum
          
           
             In
             boiling
             Seas
             ,
             the
             fish
             in
             water
             fries
             ;
          
           
             The
             Earth
             receiving
             the
             report
             doth
             quake
             ,
          
           
             But
             all
             this
             cannot
             English
             spirits
             shake
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             19.
             )
          
           
             No
             wonder
             they
             did
             Deisie
             of
             old
          
           
             Their
             valiant
             Heroes
             ,
             who
             undaunted
             run
          
           
             Into
             the
             arms
             of
             Death
             ,
             resolv'd
             ,
             and
             bold
             ,
          
           
             For
             Fame
             ,
             and
             Honour
             ,
             they
             no
             peril
             shun
             ,
          
           
           
             But
             dangers
             which
             all
             others
             dread
             desie
             ;
          
           
             A
             noble
             soul
             's
             a
             kind
             of
             Deity
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             20.
             )
          
           
             But
             if
             these
             Heroes
             had
             so
             great
             renown
             ,
          
           
             Who
             stood
             in
             noiseless
             war
             ,
             pecking
             out
             life
          
           
             With
             flying
             Arrows
             ,
             hewing
             bodies
             down
          
           
             With
             Swords
             ,
             to
             let
             out
             souls
             ;
             a
             sporting
             strife
             :
          
           
             What
             honours
             due
             to
             him
             who
             never
             shuns
          
           
             The
             deaths
             which
             flies
             so
             thick
             from
             roaring
             Guns
             ?
          
        
         
           
             (
             21.
             )
          
           
             Guns
             ,
             whose
             report
             strikes
             fearful
             hearts
             with
             death
             ,
          
           
             And
             more
             with
             terror
             than
             with
             blows
             do
             slay
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             wind
             doth
             snatch
             from
             untouch't
             men
             their
             breath
             ,
          
           
             And
             passing
             by
             can
             whistle
             souls
             away
             :
          
           
             Here
             cowards
             hearts
             dead
             in
             their
             breasts
             are
             found
             ,
          
           
             Though
             coming
             off
             at
             last
             without
             a
             wound
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             22.
             )
          
           
             Guns
             whose
             loud
             thunder
             shakes
             the
             worlds
             huge
             frame
          
           
             Into
             convulsive
             fits
             ,
             and
             seems
             to
             threat
          
           
             A
             sudden
             dissolution
             of
             the
             same
             ,
          
           
             Before
             the
             wise
             Creator
             thinks
             it
             fit
             :
          
           
             Yet
             among
             these
             our
             Worthies
             boldly
             stand
          
           
             With
             hearts
             unshaken
             ,
             shaking
             death
             by
             th'
             hand
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             23.
             )
          
           
             Neptune
             rows'd
             with
             their
             noise
             comes
             up
             to
             see
             ,
          
           
             What
             on
             the
             surface
             of
             his
             Kingdom
             's
             done
             ,
          
           
             Rising
             ,
             he
             shakes
             his
             head
             to
             see
             that
             he
          
           
             Cannot
             be
             Master
             of
             the
             Seas
             alone
             :
          
           
           
             But
             that
             two
             daring
             Fleets
             are
             sighting
             for
             't
          
           
             Without
             Commission
             from
             his
             watry
             Court.
             
          
        
         
           
             (
             24.
             )
          
           
             He
             looks
             upon
             them
             ,
             and
             the
             Dutch
             he
             knows
             ,
          
           
             Their
             Land
             was
             stol'n
             from
             him
             ,
             &
             all
             their
             wealth
          
           
             His
             Tides
             bring
             in
             ;
             if
             nurselings
             proves
             his
             foes
             ,
          
           
             He
             will
             recover
             what
             they
             got
             by
             stealth
             :
          
           
             He
             fears
             them
             not
             ,
             though
             valiant
             in
             a
             cup
             ,
          
           
             He
             thinks
             they
             cannot
             drink
             the
             Ocean
             up
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             25.
             )
          
           
             But
             on
             the
             English
             casts
             a
             jealous
             eye
             ,
          
           
             Seeing
             them
             mantled
             all
             in
             fire
             ,
             and
             smoke
             ,
          
           
             He
             fears
             they
             will
             with
             him
             for
             Empire
             vie
             ,
          
           
             Gazing
             a
             while
             ,
             deep
             silence
             thus
             he
             broke
             :
          
           
             What
             mean
             these
             daring
             mortals
             ?
             who
             are
             these
          
           
             Without
             my
             leave
             thus
             Lord
             it
             on
             the
             Seas
             ?
          
        
         
           
             (
             26.
             )
          
           
             He
             spies
             the
             Duke
             (e)
             and
             fears
             that
             Mars
             is
             come
          
           
             To
             ravish
             Thetis
             ,
             and
             to
             rule
             at
             Sea
          
           
             Yet
             thinks
             he
             ,
             I
             will
             send
             him
             whistling
             home
             ,
          
           
             And
             therefore
             bids
             the
             winds
             to
             come
             away
             :
          
           
             But
             drawing
             nearer
             he
             beheld
             the
             Prince
             (f)
             .
          
           
             And
             his
             mistake
             ,
             with
             a
             far
             kinder
             sence
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             27.
             )
          
           
             He
             smooths
             his
             ruffled
             brow
             ,
             and
             calms
             the
             air
             ,
          
           
             Comes
             mildly
             on
             ,
             doth
             thus
             the
             Duke
             salute
             ;
          
           
             Accept
             this
             Trident
             O
             thou
             fiercely
             fair
             ,
          
           
             And
             rule
             at
             Sea
             ,
             see
             it
             is
             
             Neptune's
             sute
             :
          
           
           
             Let
             all
             the
             winds
             serve
             thy
             design
             ,
             and
             show
          
           
             To
             thee
             ,
             what
             reverence
             to
             me
             they
             owe.
             
          
        
         
           
             (
             28.
             )
          
           
             Where
             e're
             my
             Trident's
             known
             ,
             or
             rule
             extends
             ,
          
           
             From
             Sea
             to
             Sea
             ,
             where
             e're
             my
             tides
             do
             flow
             ,
          
           
             And
             to
             each
             River
             which
             his
             tribute
             sends
          
           
             To
             me
             ,
             do
             thou
             a
             Conquerour
             still
             go
             !
          
           
             Ride
             Sir
             in
             Triumph
             on
             the
             Ocean
             wide
          
           
             And
             tame
             these
             
               Hogen
               Mogens
            
             swelling
             pride
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             29.
             )
          
           
             He
             said
             ,
             and
             on
             his
             Sea-green
             Couch
             sits
             down
          
           
             To
             see
             the
             issue
             of
             the
             kindling
             sight
             :
          
           
             By
             this
             his
             Highness
             hot
             ,
             and
             eager
             grown
             ,
          
           
             Diffuses
             valour
             as
             the
             Sun
             doth
             light
             ,
          
           
             Till
             by
             his
             raies
             the
             English
             all
             on
             fire
             ,
          
           
             Make
             the
             Dutch
             Valour
             soon
             like
             smoke
             expire
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             30.
             )
          
           
             They
             fire
             at
             greatest
             distance
             ,
             and
             the
             air
          
           
             Not
             us
             they
             beat
             ,
             and
             make
             the
             water
             fly
             ,
          
           
             They
             hope
             the
             noise
             us
             a
             far
             off
             will
             scare
             ,
          
           
             For
             they
             much
             fear
             that
             we
             will
             come
             too
             nigh
             :
          
           
             But
             ours
             bear
             bravely
             up
             ,
             nor
             spent
             a
             shot
          
           
             Till
             almost
             certain
             that
             they
             loose
             it
             not
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             31.
             )
          
           
             Now
             near
             enough
             ,
             discharged
             Canons
             send
          
           
             Pluto
             a
             present
             of
             Dutch
             souls
             ,
             who
             take
          
           
             A
             sudden
             leave
             of
             sprangling
             corpse
             ,
             and
             wend
          
           
             To
             lower
             shades
             over
             the
             Stygian
             lake
             :
          
           
           
             Who
             came
             in
             hopes
             as
             high
             as
             Ships
             on
             float
             ,
          
           
             Now
             sail
             to
             their
             long
             home
             in
             
             Charon's
             Boat.
             
          
        
         
           
             (
             32.
             )
          
           
             When
             our
             brave
             Admiral
             on
             lofty
             deck
          
           
             Stands
             brandishing
             his
             Sword
             ,
             confronting
             death
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             influence
             to
             fear
             in
             all
             gives
             check
             ,
          
           
             And
             inspires
             valiant
             heat
             by
             his
             warm
             breath
             .
          
           
             Whom
             as
             a
             noble
             prey
             Opdam
             espies
             ,
          
           
             And
             with
             a
             daring
             fierceness
             at
             him
             flies
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             33.
             )
          
           
             Him
             others
             follow
             ,
             all
             the
             Duke
             engage
             ,
          
           
             Who
             life
             to
             his
             ,
             and
             death
             to
             their
             men
             throws
          
           
             From
             martial
             brows
             ,
             which
             with
             a
             smiling
             rage
          
           
             Strike
             awful
             love
             into
             his
             very
             foes
             .
          
           
             Put
             five
             (g)
             to
             one
             is
             odds
             ,
             yet
             so
             he
             shows
          
           
             His
             presence
             counter-vaileth
             four
             of
             those
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             34.
             )
          
           
             Smith
             saw
             the
             unequal
             combate
             ,
             and
             straight
             flew
          
           
             With
             wind
             fill'd
             canvase
             wings
             the
             Duke
             to
             shield
             ,
          
           
             Himself
             between
             the
             Duke
             ,
             and
             Dutch
             he
             threw
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             gives
             them
             time
             to
             choose
             ,
             die
             ,
             flie
             ,
             or
             yield
             :
          
           
             One
             broad
             side
             given
             unto
             Opdam
             blows
          
           
             Him
             up
             ,
             and
             blew
             away
             the
             other
             foes
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             35.
             )
          
           
             Now
             bragging
             Opdam
             (
             set
             in
             Chair
             of
             State
          
           
             As
             still
             alive
             (
             though
             kill'd
             before
             some
             say
             )
          
           
             With
             cosening
             shew
             his
             men
             to
             animate
             )
          
           
             Sinks
             down
             in
             Triumph
             ,
             leading
             more
             the
             way
          
           
           
             To
             Stix
             and
             Acheron
             ,
             where
             such
             as
             shall
          
           
             Descend
             ,
             will
             find
             him
             
             Pluto's
             Admiral
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             36.
             )
          
           
             Mean
             while
             Prince
             Rupert
             doth
             like
             lightning
             fall
          
           
             Among
             the
             scattered
             Squadrons
             of
             the
             Dutch
             ,
          
           
             VVhere
             he
             finds
             none
             ,
             makes
             way
             like
             Hanibal
             ,
          
           
             Who
             many
             fights
             have
             seen
             ,
             saw
             never
             such
             :
          
           
             With
             murd'ring
             broad-sides
             opening
             passage
             wide
             :
          
           
             His
             dreadful
             Frigate
             thorough
             them
             doth
             glide
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             37
             )
          
           
             Passing
             ,
             on
             either
             side
             he
             shares
             his
             shot
             ,
          
           
             To
             which
             Dutch
             Hulls
             so
             weak
             resistance
             make
             ,
          
           
             That
             speedy
             death
             enters
             at
             ev'ry
             plot
             ,
          
           
             And
             sinking
             ships
             a
             shrieking
             farewel
             take
             ,
          
           
             And
             shiver'd
             splinters
             from
             torn
             planks
             that
             fly
          
           
             To
             many
             deaths
             make
             one
             shot
             multiply
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             83.
             )
          
           
             Thorough
             ,
             he
             tacks
             about
             ,
             and
             soon
             returns
             ,
          
           
             And
             from
             loud
             Guns
             repeats
             the
             doom
             of
             wounds
             ,
          
           
             And
             death
             to
             them
             ,
             
               some
               sinks
               ,
               some
            
             takes
             ,
             some
             burns
             ,
          
           
             And
             hundreds
             makes
             fall
             into
             lasting
             swounds
             :
          
           
             While
             his
             besieged
             batter'd
             Pinnace
             stood
          
           
             A
             floating
             Castle
             in
             a
             Sea
             of
             blood
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             39.
             )
          
           
             Experience
             now
             doth
             give
             a
             just
             allay
          
           
             To
             his
             high
             metal
             ,
             both
             in
             him
             do
             meet
          
           
             So
             duly
             temper'd
             ,
             that
             he
             justly
             may
          
           
             Lead
             a
             Land
             Army
             ,
             or
             conduct
             a
             Fleet
             :
          
           
           
             In
             Conduct
             wary
             ,
             and
             in
             Counsel
             grave
             ,
          
           
             In
             Courage
             fiery
             ,
             and
             in
             Conquest
             brave
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             40.
             )
          
           
             Here
             gallant
             Holms
             too
             ,
             bold
             defiance
             gave
          
           
             To
             Trump
             ,
             and
             all
             his
             fury
             ,
             whom
             he
             made
          
           
             '
             Twice
             quit
             his
             sinking
             ship
             his
             life
             to
             save
             ,
          
           
             Who
             in
             a
             Boat
             got
             home
             at
             last
             ,
             't
             is
             said
             :
          
           
             Where
             landing
             ,
             if
             the
             women
             could
             have
             catch't
             him
             ,
          
           
             For
             slaughter'd
             sons
             ,
             and
             husbands
             they
             'd
             have
             scratch't
             him
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             41.
             )
          
           
             Now
             all
             this
             time
             the
             ecchoing
             air
             resounds
             ,
          
           
             The
             noise
             of
             war
             to
             many
             aking
             hearts
          
           
             On
             trembling
             Holland
             ,
             and
             on
             English
             grounds
             ,
          
           
             Each
             wound
             in
             sympathizing
             bosomes
             smarts
             :
          
           
             But
             now
             the
             routed
             Dutch
             invoke
             the
             winds
             ,
          
           
             Hoyse
             all
             their
             sails
             too
             slack
             for
             flying
             minds
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             42.
             )
          
           
             All
             steer
             for
             nearest
             Ports
             where
             their
             folk
             stand
          
           
             Expecting
             them
             laden
             with
             spoils
             to
             come
             ;
          
           
             But
             see
             them
             with
             stretcht
             Canvase
             fly
             to
             Land
             ,
          
           
             And
             the
             pursuing
             English
             drive
             them
             home
             .
          
           
             Whose
             guns
             ,
             and
             shouts
             strengthning
             the
             winds
             the
             more
             ,
          
           
             Hast
             fleeing
             Belgians
             to
             their
             wisht
             for
             shore
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             43.
             )
          
           
             Got
             into
             Harbour
             ,
             there
             they
             skulking
             lie
             ,
          
           
             By
             our
             Triumphant
             daring
             Navy
             aw'd
             :
          
           
             So
             creeps
             the
             tim'rous
             Hare
             to
             some
             wood
             by
             ,
          
           
             And
             squatted
             lies
             ,
             hearing
             the
             Hounds
             abroad
             :
          
           
           
             From
             smitten
             brests
             now
             doleful
             cries
             rebound
             ,
          
           
             For
             sons
             ,
             and
             husbands
             not
             returned
             found
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             44.
             )
          
           
             Mean
             while
             our
             crouded
             shore
             with
             shouts
             doth
             ring
          
           
             Of
             joyful
             people
             ,
             which
             with
             longing
             eye
          
           
             Behold
             the
             Vessels
             that
             doth
             tidings
             bring
             ,
          
           
             And
             Colours
             (h)
             Trophies
             of
             our
             Victorie
             :
          
           
             And
             conqu'ring
             Frigates
             bringing
             home
             their
             prize
             ,
          
           
             Make
             thundring
             Guns
             shake
             th'
             earth
             ,
             and
             rend
             the
             skies
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             45.
             )
          
           
             Whose
             kind
             salute
             our
             watchful
             Forts
             return
          
           
             With
             as
             loud
             welcome
             ,
             and
             the
             watry
             store
             ,
          
           
             Proud
             of
             the
             Worthies
             on
             its
             waves
             are
             born
             ,
          
           
             Curvets
             ,
             and
             foams
             ,
             and
             gallops
             to
             the
             shore
             :
          
           
             Where
             landed
             Captives
             ,
             and
             the
             taken
             prize
          
           
             Do
             take
             our
             hearts
             ,
             and
             captivate
             our
             eyes
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             46.
             )
          
           
             Now
             see
             the
             fruit
             of
             pious
             management
          
           
             Of
             war
             ,
             and
             all
             affairs
             ,
             we
             kept
             a
             Fast
          
           
             Before
             the
             fight
             ,
             and
             Heav'n
             success
             hath
             sent
             ,
          
           
             Who
             sow
             in
             tears
             shall
             reap
             in
             joy
             at
             last
             :
          
           
             Le
             ts
             owe
             our
             glory
             to
             Humiliation
             ;
          
           
             For
             humble
             Penitence
             exalts
             a
             Nation
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             47.
             )
          
           
             What
             Prayers
             got
             ,
             let
             praises
             give
             to
             God
             ;
          
           
             Who
             in
             the
             first
             Engagement
             turn'd
             the
             wind
          
           
           
             To
             favour
             us
             ,
             and
             be
             to
             them
             a
             Rod
          
           
             With
             smoke
             repell'd
             to
             lash
             them
             almost
             blind
             :
          
           
             Nor
             will
             our
             giving
             God
             the
             greatest
             glory
          
           
             At
             all
             eclipse
             mans
             honour
             in
             the
             story
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             48.
             )
          
           
             In
             giving
             Thanks
             ,
             we
             do
             but
             sow
             the
             seeds
          
           
             Of
             future
             blessings
             ,
             and
             lay
             up
             in
             store
          
           
             That
             which
             in
             time
             a
             fruitful
             harvest
             breeds
             ;
          
           
             And
             praise
             for
             what
             heav'n
             gives
             ,
             bespeaks
             for
             more
             .
          
           
             Thus
             do
             Thanks-givings
             Victories
             obtain
             ,
          
           
             And
             Conquests
             make
             Thanks-giving-days
             again
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             49.
             )
          
           
             Now
             bragging
             Holland
             saw
             they
             could
             not
             beat
          
           
             The
             English
             by
             their
             single
             strength
             alone
             ,
          
           
             From
             France
             ,
             and
             Denmark
             they
             seek
             aid
             to
             get
             ,
          
           
             So
             hope
             to
             match
             us
             ,
             being
             three
             to
             one
             :
          
           
             We
             dread
             them
             not
             ,
             our
             trust
             in
             God
             shall
             be
             ,
          
           
             There
             's
             three
             in
             one
             can
             make
             our
             own
             beat
             three
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             50.
             )
          
           
             Our
             King
             ,
             and
             Loyal
             hearts
             no
             help
             require
          
           
             From
             such
             consederates
             ,
             our
             Cause
             is
             good
             ,
          
           
             And
             God
             will
             blast
             our
             foes
             designs
             ,
             as
             fire
          
           
             Consumes
             with
             sudden
             blaze
             the
             thorny
             wood
             .
          
           
             Though
             Nations
             compass
             us
             about
             ,
             we
             shall
          
           
             In
             Gods
             great
             Name
             ,
             we
             trust
             ,
             destroy
             them
             all
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             51.
             )
          
           
             The
             faithless
             Dane
             first
             offer'd
             friendship
             here
             ;
          
           
             And
             during
             Treaty
             tempts
             us
             to
             his
             Port
             (i)
          
           
           
             To
             seise
             the
             
               Belg'ans
               Indies
            
             anchor'd
             there
             ,
          
           
             A
             Squadron
             under
             Tyddiman
             go
             for
             't
             :
          
           
             And
             under
             sail
             to
             Berghen
             by
             the
             way
          
           
             Each
             Sea
             mans
             mind
             is
             laden
             with
             his
             prey
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             52.
             )
          
           
             Arriv'd
             they
             see
             inclos'd
             in
             Rocks
             their
             prize
             ,
          
           
             First
             Clifford
             lands
             the
             Governour
             to
             treat
             ,
          
           
             Who
             knowledge
             of
             his
             Master's
             (k)
             will
             denies
             ,
          
           
             Brib'd
             by
             the
             Dutch
             ,
             he
             means
             both
             Kings
             to
             cheat
             :
          
           
             Yet
             bears
             us
             fair
             in
             hand
             if
             once
             he
             knows
          
           
             His
             Princes
             will
             ,
             he
             our
             design
             allows
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             53.
             )
          
           
             Mean
             while
             he
             lets
             the
             Belgians
             plant
             on
             shore
          
           
             Their
             batt'ring
             Canons
             to
             defend
             their
             wealth
             ,
          
           
             And
             from
             his
             Castle
             murd'ring
             pieces
             roar
             ,
          
           
             Fir'd
             by
             the
             Dutch
             ,
             he
             saith
             ,
             got
             in
             by
             stealth
             :
          
           
             Thus
             basely
             dealt
             with
             ,
             the
             bold
             English
             fall
          
           
             Pell
             ,
             mell
             to
             batter
             Castle
             ,
             Town
             ,
             and
             all
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             54
             )
          
           
             Enrag'd
             to
             see
             themselves
             thus
             Tantalize
             ,
          
           
             They
             seek
             to
             sink
             what
             's
             past
             their
             pow'r
             to
             gain
          
           
             One
             on
             a
             Bed
             of
             Spices
             sweetly
             dies
             ,
          
           
             Others
             by
             broken
             Diamonds
             are
             slain
             .
          
           
             Rich
             Odours
             fir'd
             in
             Ships
             now
             cloud
             the
             skies
             ,
          
           
             As
             Incense
             doth
             from
             kindled
             Censors
             rise
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             (
             55.
             )
          
           
             But
             this
             did
             not
             appease
             incensed
             minds
             ,
          
           
             Our
             batt'ring
             balls
             now
             shatter
             houses
             down
             ,
          
           
             Now
             thorough
             Castle-wals
             death
             entrance
             finds
             ,
          
           
             And
             folk
             now
             fear
             the
             Sea
             will
             take
             the
             Town
             ,
          
           
             What
             will
             not
             English
             spirits
             bravely
             dare
          
           
             To
             do
             ?
             for
             Ships
             to
             storm
             a
             Castle
             's
             rare
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             56.
             )
          
           
             By
             this
             the
             Governour
             seems
             to
             relent
             ,
          
           
             Desires
             to
             treat
             again
             ,
             pretending
             now
          
           
             Th'
             Agreement
             made
             betwixt
             the
             King
             is
             sent
             ,
          
           
             The
             order
             owns
             ,
             he
             first
             did
             disavow
             ,
          
           
             That
             what
             we
             in
             their
             Harbours
             take
             shall
             be
          
           
             Betwixt
             the
             Kings
             divided
             equallie
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             57.
             )
          
           
             Now
             he
             invites
             ours
             to
             a
             fresh
             attempt
             ,
          
           
             But
             limitted
             with
             terms
             to
             frustrate
             it
             ,
          
           
             They
             saw
             his
             proffers
             did
             success
             exempt
             ,
          
           
             And
             wisely
             thought
             a
             new
             assault
             not
             sit
             :
          
           
             Till
             they
             return'd
             ,
             he
             would
             secure
             the
             prey
          
           
             He
             promis'd
             ,
             they
             hoise
             sail
             ,
             and
             come
             away
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             58.
             )
          
           
             Now
             whether
             Denmarks
             King
             new
             counsels
             took
             ,
          
           
             Or
             Berghens
             Governour
             his
             faith
             did
             sell
             ,
          
           
             Few
             day
             's
             expired
             ere
             the
             Dutch
             forsook
          
           
             The
             Harbour
             uncontroul'd
             ,
             but
             a
             storm
             fell
             ;
          
           
             Whereby
             just
             Heav'n
             seeing
             our
             wrong
             did
             bring
             ,
          
           
             Part
             of
             the
             prize
             we
             fought
             for
             to
             our
             King.
             
          
        
         
           
           
             (
             59.
             )
          
           
             Nor
             shall
             perfidious
             Denmark
             lose
             his
             due
             ,
          
           
             Heav'n
             will
             his
             kindness
             unto
             us
             repay
             ,
          
           
             And
             he
             his
             double
             dealing
             erst
             shall
             rue
             ,
          
           
             When
             England
             shall
             of
             Holland
             win
             the
             day
             :
          
           
             And
             then
             have
             leisure
             to
             remember
             friends
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             proffer'd
             leagues
             but
             serve
             their
             treach'rous
             ends
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             60.
             )
          
           
             Mean
             time
             the
             slighted
             Swede
             may
             check
             the
             Dane
             ,
          
           
             And
             ballance
             him
             on
             the
             divided
             Sound
             ;
          
           
             Or
             ancient
             fame
             of
             Swedish
             valour
             gain
          
           
             By
             flowing
             Conquests
             on
             the
             Danish
             ground
             :
          
           
             Whom
             he
             may
             soon
             in
             field
             subdue
             ,
             and
             then
          
           
             In
             Coppenhagen
             block
             him
             up
             agen
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             61.
             )
          
           
             Nor
             wish
             we
             
             Munster's
             Bishop
             better
             fate
             ,
          
           
             Who
             got
             our
             coin
             ,
             and
             left
             us
             in
             the
             lurch
             ,
          
           
             By
             whose
             deceit
             we
             costly
             learn
             too
             late
             ,
          
           
             The
             German
             faith
             is
             not
             in
             Roman
             Church
             :
          
           
             Which
             keeps
             no
             faith
             with
             Hereticks
             we
             know
             ,
          
           
             But
             did
             forget
             that
             they
             do
             count
             us
             so
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             62.
             )
          
           
             Holland
             of
             France
             expects
             a
             kind
             Protector
             ,
          
           
             'T
             is
             envy
             ,
             and
             not
             love
             that
             makes
             him
             such
             ,
          
           
             I
             doubt
             he
             'l
             rather
             prove
             a
             sly
             projector
             ,
          
           
             And
             only
             help
             that
             he
             may
             rule
             the
             Dutch
             :
          
           
             So
             once
             the
             Saxons
             did
             the
             Britains
             aid
             ,
          
           
             Until
             this
             Kingdom
             for
             their
             service
             paid
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             (
             63.
             )
          
           
             What
             ruffling
             France
             for
             Holland
             means
             to
             do
             ,
          
           
             Two
             Summers
             hence
             they
             possibly
             shall
             know
             ,
          
           
             The
             last
             they
             complemented
             to
             and
             fro
             ,
          
           
             This
             their
             fine
             Fleet
             abroad
             shall
             fairly
             show
             :
          
           
             The
             third
             he
             may
             to
             show
             his
             horns
             begin
             ,
          
           
             But
             if
             a
             storm
             comes
             wisely
             draw
             them
             in
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             64.
             )
          
           
             Yet
             proud
             France
             blusters
             with
             his
             Men
             ,
             and
             Arms
          
           
             As
             if
             he
             'd
             win
             the
             world
             ,
             and
             great
             plots
             laies
          
           
             For
             some
             Invasion
             ,
             but
             no
             Land
             he
             harms
             ,
          
           
             His
             mind
             on
             Holland
             ,
             not
             on
             England
             preys
             :
          
           
             The
             Sea
             's
             an
             Hill
             (l)
             his
             Forty
             Thousand
             men
          
           
             May
             bravely
             sail
             up
             ,
             and
             goe
             down
             agen
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             65.
             )
          
           
             
               Le
               Roche
            
             can
             tell
             't
             is
             a
             design
             more
             meet
          
           
             For
             Courtly
             French
             to
             man
             a
             Lady
             home
             ,
          
           
             Than
             warlike
             English
             on
             the
             Seas
             to
             greet
          
           
             From
             whose
             salute
             doth
             greater
             mischief
             come
             .
          
           
             If
             first
             he
             had
             not
             carried
             home
             their
             Queen
             ,
          
           
             
             France's
             tall
             ships
             Portugal
             ne're
             had
             seen
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             66.
             )
          
           
             Yet
             he
             with
             promises
             doth
             Holland
             feed
          
           
             Of
             great
             assistance
             which
             he
             still
             delays
             ,
          
           
             Those
             haughtiness
             in
             Belgian
             spirits
             breed
             ,
          
           
             But
             this
             their
             expectation
             still
             betrays
             :
          
           
           
             The
             greatest
             kindness
             he
             hath
             done
             them
             yet
             ,
          
           
             Was
             by
             the
             show
             he
             made
             to
             part
             our
             Fleet.
             
          
        
         
           
             (
             67.
             )
          
           
             Unhappy
             parting
             when
             Prince
             Rupert
             went
          
           
             To
             seek
             the
             French
             ,
             nois'd
             to
             be
             put
             to
             Sea
             ,
          
           
             Their
             joyning
             with
             the
             Belgians
             to
             prevent
             ,
          
           
             Which
             the
             Dutch
             hearing
             came
             out
             presentlie
             :
          
           
             Whom
             
             Albemarle's
             great
             Duke
             (m)
             engag'd
             alone
             ,
          
           
             Though
             they
             in
             numbers
             were
             near
             three
             to
             one
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             68.
             )
          
           
             Their
             numerous
             Navy
             he
             no
             sooner
             spies
             ,
          
           
             Which
             on
             the
             Ocean
             like
             a
             City
             shows
             ,
          
           
             But
             he
             with
             Canvase
             wings
             to
             battel
             flies
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             Fleet
             looks
             like
             an
             Hamlet
             to
             his
             foes
             :
          
           
             More
             great
             in
             mind
             ,
             in
             pow'r
             less
             by
             far
             ,
          
           
             He
             hurls
             himself
             into
             unequal
             war.
             
          
        
         
           
             (
             69.
             )
          
           
             His
             Captains
             all
             bear
             bravely
             up
             ,
             and
             fear
          
           
             No
             perils
             where
             this
             Gen'ral
             leads
             them
             on
             ,
          
           
             Dangers
             with
             him
             like
             shadows
             do
             appear
             ,
          
           
             Which
             where
             bright
             Phoebus
             sheds
             his
             rays
             are
             gone
             :
          
           
             The
             name
             of
             Monk
             was
             dreadful
             still
             among
          
           
             Remembring
             Dutch
             ,
             his
             Name
             's
             a
             Squadron
             strong
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             70.
             )
          
           
             The
             Fleets
             engage
             (n)
             ,
             and
             they
             in
             numbers
             bold
             ,
          
           
             And
             ours
             in
             spirit
             ,
             now
             the
             fight
             grows
             warm
             ,
          
           
           
             Our
             snugging
             Frigates
             do
             their
             sides
             unfold
             ,
          
           
             And
             their
             's
             more
             lofty
             built
             our
             rigging
             harm
             :
          
           
             We
             ply'd
             them
             thick
             ,
             &
             made
             their
             fleet
             more
             thin
             ,
          
           
             Each
             Ship
             its
             own
             way
             open'd
             to
             get
             in
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             71
             )
          
           
             Among
             their
             multitude
             unseen
             ours
             lie
             ,
          
           
             Like
             stragling
             Hunters
             beating
             in
             a
             spring
             ,
          
           
             Until
             the
             hollowing
             Guns
             do
             signifie
          
           
             To
             partner
             Ships
             their
             place
             ;
             these
             answering
             :
          
           
             Then
             through
             the
             Dutch
             they
             cut
             their
             passage
             free
             ,
          
           
             And
             let
             in
             light
             ;
             thus
             one
             another
             see
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             72.
             )
          
           
             Long
             time
             our
             few
             their
             many
             counterpoise
             ,
          
           
             The
             English
             Valour
             holds
             the
             balance
             even
             ,
          
           
             If
             either
             ,
             the
             Dutch
             scale
             did
             seem
             to
             rise
             ,
          
           
             And
             the
             advantage
             to
             our
             side
             was
             given
             :
          
           
             But
             envious
             night
             her
             sable
             mantle
             spread
             ,
          
           
             And
             from
             our
             force
             glad
             Belgians
             covered
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             73.
             )
          
           
             The
             weary
             Seamen
             lay
             them
             down
             to
             rest
          
           
             To
             fresh
             their
             spirits
             for
             a
             fiercer
             fight
             ;
          
           
             Victorious
             dreams
             (o)
             the
             English
             minds
             possest
             ,
          
           
             And
             black
             Ideas
             did
             the
             Dutch
             affright
             :
          
           
             Those
             dream
             of
             flying
             Dutch
             ,
             start
             up
             ,
             and
             shout
          
           
             These
             startle
             up
             to
             run
             as
             put
             to
             rout
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             74.
             )
          
           
             Aurora
             drew
             her
             curtains
             ,
             and
             did
             peep
          
           
             Forth
             from
             her
             Eastern
             bed
             ,
             and
             scatter
             light
             ,
          
           
           
             Our
             eager
             Souldiers
             shook
             of
             idle
             sleep
             ,
          
           
             And
             theirs
             arose
             with
             early
             minds
             for
             flight
             :
          
           
             With
             wishing
             heart
             each
             homewards
             casts
             his
             eye
             ,
          
           
             And
             Vessels
             coming
             from
             their
             Coast
             doth
             spy
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             75.
             )
          
           
             Which
             brought
             a
             fresh
             supply
             of
             sixteen
             Sail
             ,
          
           
             These
             rais'd
             their
             fal'n
             spirits
             up
             anew
             :
          
           
             Ours
             heard
             their
             shout
             ,
             and
             saw
             :
             their
             hearts
             might
             fail
             ,
          
           
             If
             ought
             the
             English
             Spirit
             could
             subdue
             :
          
           
             Whose
             strength
             's
             their
             courage
             ,
             doubling
             this
             they
             vie
          
           
             Th'
             increasing
             number
             of
             their
             foes
             supply
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             76.
             )
          
           
             Our
             little
             Fleet
             was
             lesser
             grown
             by
             war
             ;
          
           
             A
             little
             from
             a
             little
             's
             quickly
             mist
             :
          
           
             Their
             multitude
             did
             many
             better
             spare
             :
          
           
             Yet
             all
             discouragements
             our
             still
             resist
             :
          
           
             With
             such
             a
             General
             they
             scorn
             to
             fear
             ,
          
           
             Who
             doth
             the
             prize
             of
             conquer'd
             Nations
             wear
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             77.
             )
          
           
             The
             Noble
             Duke
             ,
             what
             e're
             his
             heart
             revolves
             ,
          
           
             With
             smiling
             aspect
             chears
             his
             pensive
             men
             ,
          
           
             And
             fills
             their
             anxious
             hearts
             with
             brave
             resolves
             ;
          
           
             To
             new
             assault
             he
             fiercely
             leads
             them
             then
             :
          
           
             Long
             time
             with
             even
             success
             the
             fight
             maintain'd
             ,
          
           
             No
             Conquest
             ever
             greater
             honour
             gain'd
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             78.
             )
          
           
             Another
             new
             supply
             (p)
             augments
             their
             store
             ,
          
           
             And
             so
             the
             strongest
             strength
             increasing
             get
             ;
          
           
           
             While
             our
             disabled
             Ships
             sent
             off
             to
             shore
             ,
          
           
             Unto
             the
             weaker
             adds
             more
             weakness
             yet
             :
          
           
             But
             Day
             these
             conflicts
             weary
             to
             behold
             ,
          
           
             Gave
             leave
             to
             Night
             her
             Sables
             to
             unfold
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             78.
             )
          
           
             The
             careful
             Duke
             commands
             his
             men
             to
             (q)
             rest
             ,
          
           
             Himself
             on
             reeling
             Deck
             doth
             watchful
             stand
             ,
          
           
             A
             thousand
             thoughts
             perplex
             his
             anxious
             brest
          
           
             No
             gale
             of
             hopes
             his
             fervent
             spirit
             fann'd
             :
          
           
             Yet
             he
             resolves
             no
             English
             shore
             to
             touch
             ,
          
           
             Unless
             he
             's
             Victor
             o're
             the
             vaunting
             Dutch.
             
          
        
         
           
             (
             80.
             )
          
           
             The
             rising
             Sun
             now
             gilds
             the
             Eastern
             skie
             ,
          
           
             Both
             Fleets
             prepare
             the
             quarrel
             to
             decide
             ,
          
           
             Victory
             thus
             far
             evenly
             pois'd
             did
             lie
             ,
          
           
             But
             now
             inclined
             to
             their
             stronger
             side
             :
          
           
             Yet
             are
             not
             ours
             o'recome
             when
             they
             pursue
             ,
          
           
             But
             to
             the
             flying
             still
             the
             honour's
             due
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             81.
             )
          
           
             Opprest
             with
             number
             mightiest
             Spirits
             yield
             ,
          
           
             When
             Force
             ,
             and
             Ammunition
             both
             do
             fail
             ,
          
           
             The
             truest
             Valour
             wisely
             quits
             the
             Field
             ,
          
           
             Thus
             wants
             ,
             and
             weakness
             ,
             not
             the
             Dutch
             ,
             prevail
             ,
          
           
             Make
             our
             unwilling
             General
             retreat
             ,
          
           
             Who
             yet
             in
             this
             doth
             still
             his
             foes
             defeat
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             82.
             )
          
           
             In
             such
             triumphant
             order
             he
             retires
          
           
             As
             above
             former
             Victories
             doth
             raise
          
           
           
             His
             great
             renown
             ,
             big
             Frigates
             he
             requires
          
           
             To
             keep
             the
             reer
             ,
             the
             less
             securely
             lays
          
           
             Under
             the
             shelter
             of
             the
             greaters
             wing
             ,
          
           
             And
             thus
             his
             shatter'd
             Navy
             off
             doth
             bring
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             83.
             )
          
           
             Our
             greatest
             Frigates
             keep
             the
             Dutch
             in
             awe
             ,
          
           
             If
             their
             advancing
             Vessels
             drew
             too
             near
             ,
          
           
             They
             turn'd
             ,
             and
             by
             a
             broadside
             give
             them
             law
          
           
             For
             distance
             ,
             one
             was
             sunk
             the
             other
             fear
             ,
          
           
             And
             follow
             as
             if
             awfully
             they
             come
          
           
             To
             see
             our
             batter'd
             Navy
             safely
             home
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             84.
             )
          
           
             Only
             the
             Prince
             (
             a
             gallant
             Ship
             )
             did
             strand
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             presence
             boldest
             Dutch
             could
             never
             brook
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             durst
             approach
             while
             upright
             she
             could
             stand
             ,
          
           
             But
             falling
             fowl
             ,
             her
             helpless
             men
             they
             took
             :
          
           
             Her self
             expir'd
             in
             flames
             ,
             much
             better
             so
          
           
             Than
             to
             be
             prize
             to
             the
             insulting
             foe
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             85.
             )
          
           
             At
             last
             the
             Prince
             (r)
             whose
             heart
             was
             in
             his
             ear
             ,
          
           
             E're
             since
             he
             heard
             the
             Guns
             ,
             steer'd
             by
             their
             Sound
             ,
          
           
             With
             flying
             Colours
             doth
             far
             off
             appear
             ,
          
           
             But
             French
             they
             were
             ,
             which
             first
             did
             ours
             confound
             ,
          
           
             And
             the
             glad
             Dutch
             bore
             up
             their
             friends
             to
             meet
             ,
          
           
             And
             him
             with
             warlike
             welcome
             kindly
             greet
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             (
             86.
             )
          
           
             Approaching
             ,
             he
             red
             Crosses
             soon
             displays
             ,
          
           
             Which
             husht
             their
             joy
             ,
             heav'd
             English
             hearts
             ,
             and
             hands
             ,
          
           
             
               De
               Ruyter
            
             sneaking
             back
             with
             shame
             ,
             now
             lays
          
           
             With
             craft
             his
             bragging
             Ships
             behind
             the
             Sands
             ,
          
           
             Who
             with
             a
             braving
             shew
             now
             hover
             there
          
           
             To
             tempt
             the
             eager
             Prince
             into
             the
             snare
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             87.
             )
          
           
             Fierce
             as
             a
             Lyon
             he
             to
             combate
             slyes
             ,
          
           
             To
             check
             the
             boldness
             of
             this
             vaunting
             foe
             ,
          
           
             But
             the
             Dukes
             wibfe
             upon
             his
             Jack-slag
             spyes
             ,
          
           
             The
             signal
             that
             he
             should
             not
             forwards
             go
             ,
          
           
             But
             first
             consult
             ;
             then
             with
             a
             slighting
             tack
          
           
             He
             waves
             the
             Dutch
             ,
             and
             to
             our
             Fleet
             comes
             back
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             88.
             )
          
           
             With
             leaping
             hearts
             the
             Prince
             ,
             and
             Duke
             embrace
             ;
          
           
             The
             Prince
             doubts
             no
             success
             ,
             the
             Duke
             alive
             ,
          
           
             The
             Duke
             sees
             Victory
             in
             the
             Prince's
             face
             ;
          
           
             Both
             joy
             ,
             and
             weep
             for
             joy
             ,
             and
             weeping
             strive
          
           
             To
             tell
             their
             sights
             ,
             and
             fears
             ,
             how
             parted
             hence
             ,
          
           
             Each
             shot
             against
             the
             Duke
             did
             wound
             the
             Prince
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             89.
             )
          
           
             They
             curse
             their
             parting
             hour
             ,
             but
             't
             is
             too
             late
             :
          
           
             Now
             the
             Dukes
             wasted
             stores
             the
             Prince
             supplies
             ,
          
           
             And
             both
             next
             morn
             resolve
             to
             try
             their
             fate
             ,
          
           
             For
             night
             came
             on
             ,
             but
             soon
             their
             hunting
             eyes
          
           
             Did
             catch
             the
             breaking
             day
             ,
             then
             rowse
             their
             men
             ,
          
           
             And
             to
             the
             wakened
             Dutch
             stood
             in
             agen
             .
             (ſ)
          
        
         
           
           
             (
             90.
             )
          
           
             In
             this
             one
             (t)
             day
             they
             three
             days
             war
             repeat
             ;
          
           
             As
             if
             the
             Princes
             presence
             healed
             all
             ,
          
           
             The
             wounded
             men
             ,
             and
             Ships
             so
             nimbly
             treat
          
           
             The
             Dutch
             with
             Presents
             of
             their
             Powder'd
             ball
             ,
          
           
             That
             their
             vast
             numbers
             to
             retreat
             begin
             ,
          
           
             Willing
             to
             part
             stakes
             since
             they
             could
             not
             win
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             91.
             )
          
           
             Night
             interceded
             for
             a
             truce
             again
             :
          
           
             Her
             suit
             was
             granted
             ,
             but
             day
             calls
             to
             fight
             ;
          
           
             The
             maimed
             Fleets
             lie
             lagging
             on
             the
             Main
             ,
          
           
             Their
             chiefest
             war
             was
             now
             in
             angry
             sight
             ;
          
           
             Their
             eyes
             shot
             death
             ,
             unweildy
             Ships
             could
             not
             ;
          
           
             The
             Princes
             Main-yard
             down
             by
             luckless
             shot
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             92.
             )
          
           
             The
             Belgians
             bless
             the
             time
             ,
             and
             now
             with-drew
             ,
          
           
             In
             joyful
             triumph
             stand
             for
             
             Holland's
             Coast
             ,
          
           
             Our
             shatter'd
             Generals
             could
             not
             pursue
             ;
          
           
             And
             this
             is
             that
             great
             Victory
             they
             boast
             :
          
           
             When
             we
             not
             wont
             such
             Victories
             to
             make
             ,
          
           
             Disclaim
             more
             right
             ,
             and
             call
             it
             parting
             stake
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             93.
             )
          
           
             Now
             our
             torn
             Vessels
             too
             are
             homewards
             bound
          
           
             For
             swift
             repair
             ;
             The
             Duke
             displeas'd
             he
             brought
          
           
             No
             Triumph
             home
             ,
             would
             touch
             no
             English
             ground
             ,
          
           
             Until
             the
             Dutch
             with
             more
             success
             he
             fought
             :
          
           
             Took
             no
             content
             ,
             although
             he
             had
             renown
          
           
             For
             what
             he
             did
             ,
             in
             all
             minds
             but
             his
             own
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             (
             94.
             )
          
           
             The
             famous
             name
             of
             Monk
             all
             Lands
             adore
             ,
          
           
             And
             though
             no
             Monks
             in
             England
             Bishops
             be
             ,
          
           
             The
             Monk
             who
             soundly
             beat
             the
             Dutch
             before
             ,
          
           
             In
             spite
             of
             them
             shall
             rule
             the
             Brittish
             Sea
             :
          
           
             He
             th'
             honour
             of
             three
             conquer'd
             Kingdoms
             bore
          
           
             The
             honour
             had
             three
             Kingdoms
             to
             restore
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             95.
             )
          
           
             This
             sight
             the
             earnest
             was
             of
             great
             success
             ,
          
           
             Without
             a
             Miracle
             could
             be
             no
             more
             ;
          
           
             By
             which
             wisemen
             with
             hopeless
             hearts
             did
             guess
          
           
             The
             rest
             for
             a
             new
             fight
             was
             kept
             in
             store
             :
          
           
             For
             if
             divided
             us
             they
             could
             not
             beat
             ,
          
           
             How
             will
             they
             stand
             by
             our
             united
             Fleet.
             
          
        
         
           
             (
             96.
             )
          
           
             Our
             careful
             King
             with
             Pers'nal
             industry
          
           
             Quickens
             his
             Carpenters
             with
             active
             hands
          
           
             To
             sit
             his
             Fleet
             another
             bout
             to
             try
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             double
             diligence
             serves
             his
             Commands
             :
          
           
             Now
             the
             Streights
             Fleet
             to
             joyn
             come
             fitly
             home
             :
          
           
             And
             others
             ,
             newly
             of
             the
             stocks
             ,
             do
             come
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             97.
             )
          
           
             But
             to
             maintain
             the
             honour
             they
             assum'd
          
           
             The
             hasty
             Dutch
             were
             vap'ring
             on
             our
             shore
             ,
          
           
             Now
             all
             would
             think
             them
             Victors
             they
             presum'd
             ,
          
           
             Who
             dar'd
             the
             Enemy
             at
             his
             own
             dore
             :
          
           
             Nor
             stayd
             our
             (
             yet
             unready
             )
             Navy
             long
             ,
          
           
             But
             soon
             appear
             as
             numerous
             ,
             and
             strong
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             (
             98.
             )
          
           
             The
             boasting
             Dutch
             our
             coming
             would
             not
             stay
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             th'
             English
             durst
             with
             equal
             numbers
             meet
             ,
          
           
             Wisely
             they
             hoyse
             their
             Sails
             ,
             and
             go
             away
             ;
          
           
             And
             after
             them
             did
             sail
             our
             gallant
             Fleet
             :
          
           
             Now
             Courages
             must
             fight
             ,
             the
             numbers
             even
             ,
          
           
             The
             glory
             to
             the
             Valiant
             shall
             be
             given
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             99.
             )
          
           
             What
             ours
             ne're
             shun
             to
             seek
             ,
             they
             seek
             to
             shun
             ,
          
           
             An
             equal
             combate
             on
             the
             watry
             plain
             .
          
           
             Do
             Victors
             use
             from
             beaten
             foes
             to
             run
             ?
          
           
             Leave
             bragging
             Belgians
             !
             for
             your
             brags
             are
             vain
             .
          
           
             These
             never
             will
             but
             with
             advantage
             fight
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             kindness
             shew
             but
             where
             they
             can
             get
             by
             't
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             100.
             )
          
           
             Behind
             their
             dangerous
             shallows
             bold
             they
             lie
             ,
          
           
             As
             coward
             Cocks
             on
             their
             own
             dunghils
             crow
             ,
          
           
             Ours
             mind
             no
             danger
             but
             to
             battel
             flie
             ,
          
           
             Toss't
             o're
             the
             flats
             by
             waves
             that
             lofty
             slow
             :
          
           
             Well
             overtaken
             ,
             they
             their
             foes
             engage
             ,
          
           
             And
             on
             their
             own
             Coast
             a
             fierce
             battel
             wage
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             101.
             )
          
           
             The
             Generals
             did
             like
             themselves
             ,
             nor
             can
          
           
             More
             in
             their
             praise
             be
             said
             ;
             Allen
             was
             brave
             :
          
           
             Holmes
             as
             he
             us'd
             still
             plaid
             the
             gallant
             man
             ;
          
           
             And
             Spraggs
             from
             Trump
             himself
             shall
             honor
             have
             :
          
           
             Harman
             through
             fire
             and
             water
             glory
             sought
             ,
          
           
             And
             all
             the
             rest
             there
             like
             true
             English
             fought
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             (
             102.
             )
          
           
             The
             fight
             was
             sharp
             ,
             but
             short
             ,
             nor
             could
             be
             long
          
           
             Where
             heartless
             foes
             so
             soon
             did
             leave
             the
             field
             :
          
           
             They
             will
             not
             fight
             but
             when
             they
             're
             much
             too
             strong
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             hasty
             flight
             did
             us
             less
             glory
             yield
             ,
          
           
             They
             from
             the
             waxing
             sight
             so
             soon
             withdrew
             ,
          
           
             The
             battel
             wain'd
             e're
             it
             to
             fulness
             grew
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             103.
             )
          
           
             Now
             fled
             to
             Harbour
             close
             to
             shore
             they
             lay
          
           
             Their
             beaten
             Vessels
             ,
             where
             't
             was
             pretty
             sport
             ,
          
           
             To
             see
             the
             Fanfan
             with
             
               de
               Ruyter
            
             play
             ;
          
           
             As
             if
             a
             Pigmy
             went
             to
             storm
             a
             Fort
             :
          
           
             The
             Prince
             ,
             and
             Duke
             had
             pleasure
             there
             to
             note
          
           
             
               De
               Ruyters
            
             Ship
             fought
             by
             their
             Pleasure
             Boat.
             
          
        
         
           
             (
             104.
             )
          
           
             While
             on
             their
             Coast
             as
             Victors
             thus
             we
             lie
             ,
          
           
             Holms
             ,
             Holland's
             scourge
             ,
             goes
             on
             an
             enterprise
             ;
          
           
             And
             with
             admir'd
             success
             burns
             in
             the
             Uly
          
           
             A
             numerous
             Fleet
             (t)
             most
             rich
             in
             merchandise
             ;
          
           
             Who
             when
             winds
             serv'd
             would
             sev'ral
             wayes
             have
             gone
             ,
          
           
             But
             end
             their
             Voyage
             in
             the
             
               Torrid
               Zone
            
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             105.
             )
          
           
             This
             done
             he
             Lands
             ,
             and
             gives
             a
             Town
             to
             flames
             ;
          
           
             But
             in
             this
             light
             our
             fate
             we
             did
             not
             see
             ,
          
           
             Who
             had
             a
             greater
             soon
             on
             this
             side
             Thames
          
           
             A
             fire
             that
             quench'd
             the
             joy
             of
             Victorie
             :
          
           
             Yet
             prais'd
             be
             God
             ,
             who
             under
             all
             our
             woe
          
           
             Supports
             our
             hearts
             from
             yielding
             to
             our
             foe
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             (
             106.
             )
          
           
             See
             here
             the
             vain
             attempts
             of
             mortals
             care
             ,
          
           
             With
             restless
             toil
             for
             wealth
             by
             Sea
             ,
             and
             Land
             ,
          
           
             When
             Earth
             ,
             Fire
             ,
             Water
             ,
             and
             the
             blustring
             Air
          
           
             Can
             all
             devour
             ,
             what
             we
             count
             sure
             in
             hand
             :
          
           
             With
             much
             less
             labour
             we
             might
             be
             more
             wise
             ,
          
           
             If
             we
             did
             trade
             for
             Heavens
             Merchandise
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             107.
             )
          
           
             Even
             when
             the
             flames
             our
             London
             made
             their
             prey
             ,
          
           
             Our
             nimble
             Fleet
             was
             hunting
             foes
             at
             Sea
             ,
          
           
             Both
             French
             and
             Dutch
             were
             joyned
             now
             they
             say
             ,
          
           
             This
             the
             brave
             Prince
             ,
             and
             Fleet
             would
             gladly
             see
             :
          
           
             At
             last
             they
             have
             their
             sought
             for
             foes
             in
             veiw
             ;
          
           
             But
             her
             black
             curtain
             night
             betwixt
             them
             drew
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             108.
             )
          
           
             And
             e're
             the
             morn
             did
             in
             the
             East
             appear
             ,
          
           
             Heav'n
             as
             a
             Mediator
             rais'd
             a
             wind
          
           
             To
             intercept
             the
             sight
             ,
             no
             Ships
             could
             steer
          
           
             A
             steady
             course
             ,
             nor
             place
             for
             battel
             find
             :
          
           
             This
             storm
             might
             Christians
             furious
             spirits
             calm
             ,
          
           
             And
             on
             its
             wings
             for
             wounds
             bring
             healing
             balm
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             109.
             )
          
           
             But
             if
             Dutch
             haughty
             spirits
             will
             not
             yield
          
           
             To
             Terms
             may
             suit
             our
             Nations
             interest
             ,
          
           
             Let
             foes
             combine
             !
             God
             is
             our
             Rock
             ,
             and
             Shield
             ,
          
           
             And
             will
             the
             justness
             of
             our
             cause
             attest
             :
          
           
             By
             War
             we
             seek
             an
             honourable
             Peace
             ,
          
           
             Till
             this
             may
             be
             ,
             War
             may
             not
             safely
             cease
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             (
             110.
             )
          
           
             Nor
             shall
             while
             England
             hath
             ,
             or
             blood
             ,
             or
             treasure
             ,
          
           
             Or
             Loyal
             hearts
             have
             Votes
             in
             Parliament
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             Princes
             will
             is
             their
             own
             choice
             ,
             &
             pleasure
             ,
          
           
             Assur'd
             the
             Nations
             good
             is
             his
             intent
             :
          
           
             And
             Loyal
             London
             which
             in
             ruine
             lies
             ,
          
           
             Rak'd
             from
             her
             ashes
             raises
             new
             supplies
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             111.
             )
          
           
             Whose
             fire
             hath
             made
             her
             Loyaltie
             to
             shine
             ,
          
           
             Rich
             to
             her
             King
             even
             in
             her
             low
             estate
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             doth
             her
             bounty
             to
             her
             wealth
             confine
             ,
          
           
             But
             makes
             her
             want
             supply
             the
             needs
             of
             State
             ,
          
           
             And
             will
             convince
             both
             France
             ,
             &
             
             Holland's
             Fleets
             ,
          
           
             Her
             Spirit
             is
             not
             fallen
             with
             her
             Streets
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             112.
             )
          
           
             Her
             Courage
             ,
             and
             her
             Patience
             both
             are
             try'd
          
           
             By
             fire
             ,
             and
             do
             illustrious
             appear
             ;
          
           
             With
             greater
             Patience
             none
             can
             loss
             abide
          
           
             Or
             with
             more
             courage
             far
             less
             crosses
             bear
             ;
          
           
             Laid
             low
             ,
             her
             foes
             to
             trample
             on
             her
             think
             ,
          
           
             But
             neither
             fire
             ,
             nor
             water
             make
             her
             shrink
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             113.
             )
          
           
             Relenting
             Heav'n
             who
             hath
             us
             soundly
             scourg'd
             ,
          
           
             These
             Vertues
             ,
             pledge
             of
             better
             times
             ,
             doth
             give
             ,
          
           
             And
             if
             our
             Sickness
             hath
             our
             Vices
             purg'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             Fire
             consum'd
             our
             dross
             ,
             we
             yet
             shall
             live
             ,
          
           
             To
             see
             the
             War
             in
             our
             full
             Conquest
             cease
             ,
          
           
             And
             London
             rising
             from
             her
             dust
             in
             peace
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             (
             114.
             )
          
           
             Then
             shall
             the
             Wealth
             of
             Nations
             thither
             flow
             ,
          
           
             And
             silver
             Thames
             be
             rich
             as
             Tagus
             shore
             ,
          
           
             And
             Strangers
             ravish'd
             by
             her
             beauteous
             show
             ,
          
           
             Turn
             captiv'd
             Lovers
             ,
             and
             go
             home
             no
             more
             :
          
           
             The
             East
             shall
             her
             adore
             with
             Incense
             ,
             and
          
           
             The
             West
             enrich
             her
             with
             her
             golden
             sand
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             115.
             )
          
           
             In
             ample
             glory
             lofty
             ,
             and
             more
             wide
             ,
          
           
             Her
             Streets
             with
             Structures
             uniform
             shall
             stand
          
           
             Surpassing
             all
             the
             world
             can
             boast
             beside
             ;
          
           
             The
             Palace
             ,
             and
             the
             Temple
             of
             our
             Land
             :
          
           
             And
             Swains
             who
             Heav'n
             some
             glorious
             City
             deem
             ,
          
           
             Will
             this
             the
             new
             Jerusalem
             esteem
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             116.
             )
          
           
             Her
             Royal
             Father
             ,
             whose
             dear
             sympathy
          
           
             In
             her
             late
             suff'rings
             was
             her
             sweetest
             fare
             ,
          
           
             Shall
             in
             her
             beauty
             ,
             and
             her
             Loyalty
          
           
             Rejoyce
             ,
             and
             she
             in
             his
             great
             love
             ,
             and
             care
             :
          
           
             Their
             twined
             Int'rests
             and
             Affections
             shall
          
           
             Native
             ,
             and
             Forreign
             Enemies
             appal
             ,
          
        
         
           
             (
             117.
             )
          
           
             We
             have
             indeed
             been
             compassed
             with
             woes
             ,
          
           
             Trials
             to
             good
             ,
             and
             punishments
             to
             bad
             :
          
           
             We
             are
             beset
             by
             Sea
             ,
             and
             Land
             with
             foes
             ,
          
           
             Who
             in
             our
             sorrows
             ,
             and
             distress
             are
             glad
             :
          
           
             But
             let
             our
             Faith
             and
             Courage
             now
             appear
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             let
             us
             ought
             but
             God
             Almighty
             fear
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             (
             118.
             )
          
           
             Who
             his
             destroying
             Angels
             hand
             hath
             staid
             ,
          
           
             Who
             much
             from
             flames
             beyond
             our
             hopes
             did
             save
             ,
          
           
             Who
             twice
             our
             Navy
             hath
             Victorious
             made
             ,
          
           
             Whom
             still
             the
             faithful
             on
             their
             side
             shall
             have
             ,
          
           
             Who
             to
             the
             patient
             will
             their
             loss
             repair
          
           
             With
             double
             gain
             ;
             so
             patient
             Job
             did
             fare
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             119.
             )
          
           
             Now
             for
             the
             yet
             unfinisht
             part
             of
             war
             :
          
           
             Go
             on
             brave
             Seamen
             ,
             and
             compleat
             your
             glory
             !
          
           
             Who
             die
             in
             this
             their
             Countries
             Martyrs
             are
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             worthy
             Names
             shall
             live
             in
             British
             story
             :
          
           
             Lawson
             ,
             and
             Mims
             with
             honour
             now
             do
             lie
          
           
             Embalmed
             in
             the
             English
             memorie
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             120.
             )
          
           
             When
             bullets
             flie
             so
             thick
             they
             darken
             air
             ,
          
           
             The
             Lord
             of
             Hosts
             in
             such
             a
             storm
             can
             save
             ;
          
           
             Or
             if
             your
             Souls
             these
             to
             light
             Mansions
             bear
             ,
          
           
             And
             Seas
             your
             bodies
             take
             ,
             the
             Sea
             's
             a
             grave
          
           
             Trusty
             as
             Earth
             ,
             and
             when
             the
             Angel
             sounds
          
           
             Gives
             up
             her
             dead
             safe
             as
             the
             sacred
             grounds
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             121.
             )
          
           
             But
             there
             's
             less
             fear
             of
             death
             than
             honour
             now
             ,
          
           
             Your
             vanquisht
             foes
             will
             scarce
             endure
             a
             sight
             ,
          
           
             Scarce
             will
             their
             Keels
             this
             Spring
             the
             Ocean
             plough
             ,
          
           
             The
             Conquest
             's
             now
             less
             difficult
             than
             sight
             :
          
           
             They
             ,
             like
             dull
             Stars
             the
             Sun
             with-drawn
             ,
             are
             clear
          
           
             About
             ,
             watch
             their
             advantage
             to
             appear
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             (
             122.
             )
          
           
             Or
             as
             full
             Moons
             rise
             when
             the
             Sun
             doth
             set
             ,
          
           
             Look
             big
             ,
             and
             fierce
             ,
             as
             if
             the
             skies
             they
             won
             ;
          
           
             Our
             searching
             Fleet
             come
             in
             ,
             so
             out
             they
             get
             ,
          
           
             And
             shine
             as
             if
             the
             Ocean
             were
             their
             own
             .
          
           
             But
             when
             the
             Sun
             looks
             up
             ,
             the
             Moon
             doth
             hide
             :
          
           
             So
             can't
             the
             Dutch
             our
             Navy's
             sight
             abide
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             123.
             )
          
           
             But
             the
             Sun
             hunts
             the
             flying
             Moon
             until
          
           
             His
             Opposition
             doth
             eclipse
             her
             light
             :
          
           
             So
             seek
             the
             shifting
             Dutch
             our
             Navy
             will
             ,
          
           
             Till
             they
             eclipse
             their
             honour
             in
             a
             fight
             .
          
           
             As
             for
             the
             French
             they
             Meteors
             are
             ,
             no
             doubt
             ;
          
           
             Let
             them
             but
             blaze
             a
             while
             ,
             they
             will
             go
             out
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             124.
             )
          
           
             Those
             shine
             like
             Stars
             ,
             but
             are
             indeed
             a
             vapour
             ,
          
           
             Which
             hath
             no
             proper
             Orb
             ,
             howe're
             it
             shows
             ,
          
           
             But
             only
             upwards
             cuts
             a
             nimble
             caper
             ,
          
           
             And
             sinks
             to
             Earth
             again
             from
             whence
             it
             rose
             :
          
           
             Perhaps
             these
             
               ignes
               fatui
            
             may
             jeer
          
           
             The
             Dutch
             into
             the
             Ditch
             and
             leave
             them
             there
             .
          
        
         
           
             (
             125.
             )
          
           
             But
             let
             us
             pious
             ,
             loyal
             ,
             loving
             ,
             prove
          
           
             To
             God
             ,
             our
             King
             ,
             our
             Church
             ,
             and
             one
             another
             ;
          
           
             So
             shall
             the
             reliques
             of
             our
             woes
             remove
             ,
          
           
             And
             prosp'rous
             days
             our
             griefs
             ,
             and
             fears
             shall
             smother
             :
          
           
             Our
             bliss
             from
             Virtue
             we
             may
             calculate
          
           
             More
             sure
             than
             any
             Stars
             Prognosticate
             .
          
        
         
           FINIS
           .
        
         
      
    
     
       
         Notes, typically marginal, from the original text
         
           Notes for div A64521-e6560
           
             *
             Sept.
             2.
             1666.
             by
             two
             in
             the
             morning
             began
             this
             fire
             ,
             which
             was
             not
             supp●●st
             in
             all
             places
             till
             Friday
             morning
             following
             .
          
           
             †
             The
             roof
             of
             
             Paul's
             falling
             ,
             broke
             strangely
             through
             into
             St.
             
             Faith's
             Church
             underneath
             Pauls
             .
          
           
             *
             Many
             Books
             by
             the
             Stationers
             were
             put
             under
             Pauls
             Church
             ,
             to
             secure
             them
             from
             the
             fire
             ,
             but
             there
             were
             burned
             .
          
           
             *
             Lud
             King
             of
             Britain
             .
          
           
             *
             Who
             as
             Stories
             tell
             landed
             at
             Totnes
             in
             
               Devonshire
               ,
               Anno
               Mundi
            
             ,
             2855.
             and
             before
             Christs
             birth
             ,
             1108.
             years
             ,
             and
             soon
             after
             built
             here
             a
             City
             ,
             calling
             it
             Troy-novant
             .
          
           
             (a)
             Anno
             Dom.
             1086.
             
          
           
             (b)
             King
             of
             Kent
             :
             and
             moved
             by
             Mellitus
             Bishop
             of
             London
             ,
             to
             found
             this
             Church
             Mellitus
             consecrated
             Bishop
             ,
             
               An.
               Dom.
            
             606.
             
          
           
             (c)
             Consecrated
             Bishop
             of
             
               London
               ,
               An.
               Dom.
            
             675.
             
          
           
             (a)
             Anno
             Dom.
             1087.
             
          
        
         
           Notes for div A64521-e21910
           
             (a)
             The
             Arms
             of
             Holland
             .
          
           
             (b)
             The
             Arms
             of
             Spain
             ,
             from
             whom
             the
             Netherlands
             revolting
             ,
             were
             aided
             by
             Queen
             Elizabeth
             .
          
           
             (c)
             King
             of
             Spain
             .
          
           
             (d)
             The
             first
             sight
             with
             the
             Dutch.
          
           
             (e)
             Duke
             of
             York
             .
          
           
             (f)
             Duke
             of
             York
             .
          
           
             (g)
             Five
             of
             their
             Ships
             set
             upon
             the
             Duke
             's
             at
             once
             .
          
           
             (h)
             Colours
             taken
             from
             the
             Dutch
             ships
             ours
             took
             ,
             and
             sent
             up
             to
             the
             King
             ,
             shewed
             in
             the
             Countries
             they
             went.
             
          
           
             (i)
             Bergh●n
             business
             .
          
           
             (k)
             The
             King
             of
             Denmark
             who
             profered
             our
             King
             that
             his
             ships
             might
             take
             any
             Dutch
             ships
             in
             his
             harbours
             ,
             and
             the
             Prize
             to
             be
             divided
             betwixt
             them
             .
          
           
             (l)
             According
             to
             the
             common
             o●inion
             that
             the
             waters
             are
             h●gher
             than
             the
             Earth
             ,
             and
             lie
             upon
             and
             heap
             at
             Sea.
             
          
           
             (m)
             The
             second
             sight
             with
             the
             Dutch
             ,
             in
             the
             beginning
             of
             June
             this
             last
             Summer
             ,
             when
             Prince
             Rupert
             and
             the
             Duke
             of
             Albemarle
             went
             General●
             by
             joynt
             Commission
             .
          
           
             (n)
             The
             first
             days
             fight
             .
          
           
             (o)
             The
             second
             days
             fight
             .
          
           
             (p)
             On
             Saturday
             even
             .
          
           
             (q)
             The
             third
             day
             .
          
           
             (r)
             Prince
             Rupert
             who
             came
             into
             the
             Duke
             on
             Sunday
             ever
             .
          
           
             (ſ)
             The
             fourth
             days
             fight
             .
          
           
             (t)
             The
             fifth
             day
             the
             fight
             held
             but
             an
             hour
             or
             two
             e're
             the
             Dutch
             withdrew
             .
          
           
             (t)
             Con●isting
             of
             150.
             
             Sail.
             
          
        
      
    
  

