The asses complaint against Balaam; or, The cry of the country against ignorant and scandalous ministers.
         Griffin, Lewis.
      
       
         
           1661
        
      
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         A26052
         Wing A4021A
         ESTC R16516
         12655321
         ocm 12655321
         65340
         
           
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             The asses complaint against Balaam; or, The cry of the country against ignorant and scandalous ministers.
             Griffin, Lewis.
          
           1 sheet ([1] p.)
           
             s.n.,
             [London :
             1661]
          
           
             Advertisement at end signed: Lewis Griffin.
             Imprint suggested by Wing.
             Item at reel 341:11 identified as Wing A4021A (number cancelled).
             Reproduction of original in Harvard University Libraries.
          
        
      
    
     
       
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         eng
      
       
         
           Clergy -- England -- Poetry.
           Broadsides -- England -- 17th century.
        
      
    
     
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           THE
           Asses
           Complaint
           against
           Balaam
           ;
           Or
           the
           Cry
           of
           the
           COUNTRY
           AGAINST
           Ignorant
           and
           Scandalous
           Ministers
           .
        
         
           
             To
             the
             Reverend
             Bishops
             .
          
        
         
           
             YEE
             
               mitred
               Members
            
             of
             the
             House
             of
             Peers
             ,
          
           
             The
             
               Kings
               Churchwardens
            
             ,
             and
             
               Gods
               Overseers
            
             ,
          
           
             Fathers
             in
             Christ
             ,
             we
             your
             poor
             Children
             cry
          
           
             Oh
             give
             us
             
               Bread
               of
               Life
            
             ,
             or
             else
             we
             die
             .
          
        
         
           
             For
             we
             are
             burd'ned
             with
             our
             
               old
               Sir
               Johns
            
             ,
          
           
             Who
             when
             we
             ask
             for
             Bread
             do
             give
             us
             stones
             ;
          
           
             And
             only
             cant
             a
             Homily
             or
             two
             ,
          
           
             Which
             Daws
             and
             Parrots
             may
             be
             taught
             to
             doe
             ;
          
           
             
               Drunkards
               Cannonicall
               ,
               Vnhallowed
               Bears
            
             ,
          
           
             That
             name
             God
             oftner
             in
             their
             oaths
             then
             Prayers
             .
          
        
         
           
             Into
             what
             darknesse
             will
             our
             Church
             be
             hurld
          
           
             If
             such
             as
             these
             be
             call'd
             
               The
               light
               o
               th'
               World
            
             ?
          
           
             These
             that
             have
             nought
             to
             prove
             themselves
             devout
          
           
             Save
             only
             this
             ,
             
               That
               Cromwell
               turnd
               them
               out
            
             .
          
        
         
           
             Mistake
             us
             not
             ,
             we
             do
             not
             mean
             those
             loyall
          
           
             And
             learned
             soules
             ,
             who
             in
             the
             fiery
             tryall
          
           
             Sufferd
             for
             King
             and
             
               conscience
               sake
            
             ,
             let
             such
          
           
             Have
             double
             honour
             ,
             we
             shall
             nere
             think
             much
             ;
          
        
         
           
             But
             this
             our
             tender
             conscience
             disapproves
             ,
          
           
             That
             Ravens
             should
             return
             as
             well
             as
             Doves
             ;
          
           
             And
             croak
             in
             Pulpits
             once
             again
             to
             bring
          
           
             A
             second
             Judgment
             on
             our
             Church
             and
             King.
             
          
        
         
           
             Though
             England
             doth
             not
             fear
             another
             losse
             ,
          
           
             '
             Cause
             God
             hath
             burnd
             his
             Rods
             at
             
               Charing
               crosse
            
             ;
          
           
             Yet
             
               Clergy
               sins
            
             may
             call
             him
             to
             the
             Doore
          
           
             Ev'n
             him
             who
             whip'd
             and
             scourg'd
             them
             out
             before
             .
          
        
         
           
             Oh
             therefore
             ye
             that
             read
             the
             sacred
             Laws
          
           
             Eject
             their
             Persons
             ,
             and
             disown
             their
             cause
             :
          
           
             God
             ,
             and
             the
             King
             have
             both
             condemud
             this
             crew
             ,
          
           
             Then
             let
             them
             not
             be
             patroniz'd
             by
             you
             .
          
        
         
           
             'T
             is
             not
             their
             Cassocks
             ,
             not
             their
             Surplices
          
           
             We
             quarrell
             at
             ,
             there
             is
             no
             hurt
             in
             these
             ;
          
           
             We
             owh
             their
             Decency
             ,
             yet
             every
             Foole
          
           
             Cannot
             be
             call'd
             a
             Monk
             that
             weares
             a
             Cowle
             ;
          
           
             Were
             grace
             ,
             and
             learning
             wanting
             (
             by
             your
             leaves
             )
          
           
             We
             would
             not
             pin
             our
             faith
             on
             your
             
               Lawn
               sleeves
            
             ;
          
           
             'T
             is
             
               Aarons
               breastplate
            
             ,
             and
             those
             
               sacred
               words
            
          
           
             Become
             a
             Churchman
             best
             ,
             THAT
             THAT
             my
             Lords
          
           
             Which
             pious
             Baxter
             makes
             his
             livery
             ,
          
           
             
               VVould
               all
               our
               Curates
               were
               but
               such
               as
               he
               !
            
          
        
         
           
             Pardon
             my
             Lords
             ,
             we
             do
             not
             make
             this
             stir
          
           
             To
             vindicate
             the
             
               factious
               Presbyter
            
             ;
          
           
             We
             hate
             his
             ways
             ,
             and
             equally
             disown
          
           
             The
             
               zealous
               Rebell
            
             ,
             as
             the
             
               Idle
               Droan
            
             ;
          
           
             And
             beg
             as
             oft
             to
             be
             deliver'd
             from
          
           
             The
             Kirk
             of
             Scotland
             ,
             as
             the
             Sea
             of
             Rome
             ;
          
           
             We
             pray
             for
             Bishops
             too
             ,
             Oh
             may
             ye
             stand
          
           
             To
             heale
             the
             sad
             distractions
             of
             the
             Land
             ;
          
           
             Then
             give
             us
             Priests
             loyall
             and
             painfull
             too
             ,
          
           
             To
             give
             to
             Caefar
             ,
             and
             to
             us
             our
             due
             .
          
        
         
           
             God
             save
             King
             Charles
             our
             Christian
             faiths
             Defender
             ,
          
           
             And
             bring
             Religion
             to
             its
             wonted
             Splendour
             .
          
        
      
    
     
       
         
           ADVERTISEMENT
           .
        
         
           LOyall
           and
           Orthodox
           Reader
           ,
           Judg
           charitably
           ,
           I
           am
           ne'ther
           Presbyterian
           ,
           nor
           Phanatick
           ,
           but
           as
           true
           a
           Son
           of
           the
           Church
           of
           England
           as
           thy self
           ;
           for
           thy
           further
           satisfaction
           ,
           I
           shall
           (
           God
           willing
           )
           present
           thee
           with
           an
           other
           paper
           ,
           to
           clear
           my
           honesrintention
           in
           this
           .
        
         
           Lewis
           Griffin
           .