A Song — John Wilson

A Song · John Wilson

To God our twice-Reuenger.

WE ſaw, but oh! how ſad were we to ſee,

Spaines (prouder) Fleete on the proud Ocean ſpred?

An hundred ſhips there were, and eight times three,

Which made it deem'd and nam'd vnconquered.

The ancient Pilots were amaz'd to ſee't,

When they beheld this new-huge-bodied fleete.

The Sea with mazed ſmil ſaw in her bounds,

All the Earths wealth and honor brought by ſhips,

But we all trembled at the frequent ſounds

Of Trumpets, Drummes: at naked Swords and Whips

(Sore threatned) wherewith all the Spaniard fell

Came arm'd this Brittaine nation to quell.

Our hopes are in a lone-torne ſhip (befitted,

With fire and Brimſtone as her chiefeſt loade)

Shee, without guide, is to the windes committed,

And forth with cruell deſtinie ſhe roade;

[Them and herſelfe with her own flames to ſpoile]

Windes ſerue; ſhe burnt herſelfe, put them to ſpoile.

Heere were we cheer'd to ſee the Ocean maine,

All white before with ſailes, now purple growne.

As ſuddenly with bloud of Spainards ſlaine:

Their fleete is ſcattred, and their ſhips o're throwne,

Some ſinke, ſome burne i' th' Sea, and ſome at laſt,

After long wandring, on ſtrange ſhores are caſt.

WE ſaw, but oh! how glad were we to ſee,

O cruell Rome, out of thy darkeſome den,

So many weapons of thy villanie

And mightie engines, pluckt by hands of men?

Stones, Faggots, Crowes, Gun-powder-tubs we ſaw,

Theſe wines The whore doth from her veſſels draw.

Long were they hid vnderunder the ſecret vault,

Of that Great houſe; and there they were to lye,

Till they were made (O horrible aſſault!)

By wicked Faux his hand, aloft to flye.

Thoſe ſacred roomes where lawes were wont to breed,

To ſudden wracke and ruine were decreed.

King, Prince, Peeres, Prelates, Commons, Goſpell bright,

All at one blow together were to fall:

Match was in hand to giuegive the traines their light,

But God reueal'd, deſtroy'd, reueng'd them all.

Hell needes not bluſh: for this impiety

Doth worſt of men, fiendes, furies iuſtifie.

Hell neuer knew ſuch wickedneſſe as this,

Another hell, (like it) there need a'-bin.

Should plot and pay be like? for both there is

One meaſure: none of pay; for, none of ſinne.

Should praiſe be like Gods grace? there is but one

Meaſure for both: Grace had, praiſe muſt hauehave none.

A Pillar Conſecrated.

THis Pillar bright, and [twiſe-Reuenger's] name,

Both to our God of right we are to reare;

For he hath more than twiſe deſeru'd the ſame,

Here, hauing quell'd our foes; and mockt 'em there.

They, firſt deſtroyers, and then traitors playde;

Deſtroyers are deſtroy'd, traitors betray'd.

Verſes made by Theodore Beza, vponupon the ouerthrow of the Spaniſh Nauy. 1588.

STraverat innumeris Hiſpanus claſsibus aequor,

Regnis Iuncturus Sceptra Britanna ſuis.

Tanti huius rogitas quae motus cauſa? ſuperbos

Impulit Ambitio, vexit Auaritia.

Quàm bene te, Ambitio, merſit vaniſsima, Ventus?

Et tumidae tumidos vos ſuperâſtis aquae?

Quàm bene Raptores orbis totius Iberos,

Merſit inexhauſti iuſta vorago maris?

Et tu, cui venti, cui totum militat aequor,

Regina, O mundi totius vna decus,

Sic Regnare Deo perge, Ambitione remotâ,

Prodiga ſic opibus perge iuuare pios:

Vt te Angli longùm, longùm Anglis ipſa fruaris,

Quàm dilecta bonis, tam metuenda malis.

Thus Engliſhed (though not according to their worth).

THe Spaniard with great ſhips, and numberleſſe.

Ore-ſpred the ſea, that with his kingdomes large

Hee might great Brittaines royall Crowne poſſeſſe.

Wouldſt know the cauſe of all this ſtirre and charge?

Twas this: The proude were with Ambition led,

And after filthy lucre carryed.

How well wert thou [moſt vaine Ambition]

Drown'd by the winde? and yee O ſwelling waues,

Ore-came that proude and ſwelling-Dition.

World-ſpoiling Spanyards, midſt of all their braues,

How well and iuſtly in the gulfe profound,

Were, of the Sea vnſatiable, drown'd?

And thou, for whom the windes and Ocean maine,

Are preſt to fight, O Queene (the worldes renowne)

So ſtill for God, without Ambition, raigne,

So ſtill the godlie with rich fauours Crowne.

That England thee thou England, long and long

May 'nioy; the good belou'd, bad fear'd, among.

Another Song.

O Night, O day, while dayes and nights ſhall laſt,

Boue all the dayes and nights that euer paſt,

To Englands God be hallowed,

With hearts and tongues ſolemnized,

With Hymmes and ſongs eternized.

Black night & direfull day, thou ſhouldſt hauehave beene,

A thundring night, a ſtormy day I weene,

With helliſh tempeſts darkened,

With Romiſh murders bloodyed,

With Engliſh horror diſmalled.

The traine was readie layd, the powder dry,

Faulkes, and the blow, I quake to thinke how nigh.

Now all the fiends of hell wide gap'd,

Now all the friends of Rome well hop'd,

Now all England ſecurely ſlep'd.

But Gods all-ſeeing neuer ſlumbring eye,

As Sentinell kept watch and ward on high,

Their deuelliſh plots he fore-eſpies,

Their Popiſh Miners he deſcries,

Giues King and State deliueries.

Thus Hell and Rome hauehave England twiſe aſſay'd,

With force and fraud t'haue conquerd and betray'd,

Their Nauy firſt God ſcattered,

Their treaſon next diſcouered,

And twiſe hath vsus deliuered.

Mongſt yeares let eightie eight be Chronicled,

Mongſt dayes Nouembers fift be Calendred,

To God let both be hallowed,

With hearts and tongues ſolemnized,

With himmes and ſongs eternized.

For all, of all, God praiſed be,

With hearts, tongues, liues be honour'd he,

Amen, Amen, Amen ſay we.

FINIS.

A ſhort Song made vponupon the powder-treaſon, being the fift of Nouember, Anno. 1605.

VPonUpon the fift day of Nouember,

One thouſand ſix hundred fiue,

All Engliſh people muſt remember,

How they were ſau'd aliue;

When cruell Papiſts had intent

By blaſt of Powder ſtrong,

To blow vp all the Parlament;

The loftie skies among.

Nor King, nor Prince, nor noble blood,

Meant they at all to ſpare;

Nor any of the burgeſſe-hood,

That were aſſembled there.

Thus, when they had their will fulfill'd,

In fell and furious rage,

Then had bin all the Godly kill'd

Of eueryevery ſexe and age.

Gods holy Word they would hauehave thruſt

Out of our Churches quite,

Laying his honour in the duſt,

With Diabolikeſpite.

Then had the Pope, and all his traine,

And all his baggage ſtuffe,

Lift vp on high their heads againe,

And ſat in Pompous ruffe.

O England, praiſe the name of God.

That kept thee from this heauie rod.