Several Poems, Poem 5
A Dialogue between Old England and New; concerning their preſent Troubles, Anno, 164….
New-England.
ALas dear Mother, faireſt Queen and beſt,
With honour, wealth, and peace, happy and bleſt;
What ails thee hang thy head, & croſs thine arms?
And ſit i'th' duſt, to ſigh theſe ſad alarms?
What deluge of new woes thus over-whelme
The glories of thy ever famous Realme?
What means this wailing tone, this mournful guiſe?
Ah, tell thy daughter, ſhe may ſympathize.
Old England.
Art ignorant indeed of theſe my woes?
Or muſt my forced tongue theſe griefs diſcloſe?
And muſt my ſelf diſſect my tatter'd ſtate,
Which 'mazed Chriſtendome ſtands wondring at?
And thou a Child, a Limbe and doſt not feel
My fainting weakned body now to reel?
This Phyſick purging potion, I have taken,
Will bring conſumption, or an Ague quaking,
Unleſs ſome Cordial, thou fetch from high,
Which preſent help may eaſe my malady.
If I deceaſe▪ doſt think thou ſhalt ſurvive?
Or by my waſting ſtate doſt think to thrive?
Then weigh our caſe, if 't be not juſtly ſad;
Let me lament alone, while thou art glad.
New-England.
And thus (alas) your ſtate you much deplore
In general terms, but will not ſay wherefore:
What medicine ſhall I ſeek to cure this woe,
If th' wound ſo dangerous I may not know.
But you perhaps, would have me gheſs it out:
What hath ſome H…ngiſt like that Saxon ſtout
By fraud or force uſurp'd thy flowring crown,
Or by tempeſtuous warrs thy ſi…kls trod down?
Or hath Canutus, that brave valiant Dane
The Regal peacefull Scepter from thee tane?
Or is't a Norman, whoſe victorious hand
With Engliſh blood bedews thy conquered land?
Or is't Inteſtine warrs that thus offend?
Do Maud and Stephen for the crown contend?
Do Barons riſe and ſide againſt their King,
And call in foraign aid to help the thing?
Muſt Edward be depos'd? or is't the hour
That ſecond Richard muſt be clapt i'th tower?
Or is't the fatal jarre, again begun
That from the red white pricking roſes ſprung?
Muſt Richmonds aid, the Nobles now implore?
To come and break the Tuſhes of the Boar,
If none of theſe dear Mother, what's your woe?
Pray do you fear Spains bragging Armado?
Doth your Allye, fair France, conſpire your wrack,
Or do the Scots play falſe, behind your back?
Doth Holland quit you ill for all your love?
Whence is the ſtorm from Earth or Heaven above?
Is't drought, is't famine, or is't peſtilence?
Doſt feel the ſmart, or fear the Conſequence?
Your humble Child intreats you, ſhew your grief,
Though Arms, nor Purſe ſhe hath for your relief,
Such is her poverty▪ yet ſhall be found
A Suppliant for your help, as ſhe is bound.
Old England.
I muſt confeſs ſome of thoſe ſores you name,
My beauteous body at this preſent maime;
But forreign foe, nor feigned friend I fear,
For they have work enough (thou knowſt) elſewhere
Nor is it Alcies Son, nor Henryes daughter;
Whoſe proud contention cauſe this ſlaughter,
Nor Nobles ſiding, to make John no King,
French Jews unjuſtly to the Crown to bring;
No Edward, Richard, to loſe rule and life,
Nor no Lancaſtrians to renew old ſtrife:
No Duke of …ork, nor Earl of March to ſoyle
Their hands in kindreds blood whom they did foil
No crafty Tyrant now uſurps the Seat.
Who Nephews ſlew that ſo he might be great;
No need of Tudor, Roſes to unite,
None knows which is the red, or which the white;
Spains braving Fleet a ſecond time is ſunk,
France knows how oft my fury ſhe hath drunk:
By Edward third and Henry fifth of fame.
Her Lillies in mine Arms avouch the ſame.
My Siſter Scotland hurts me now no more.
Though ſhe hath been injurious heretofore;
What Holland is I am in ſome ſuſpence?
But truſt not much unto his excellence.
For wants, ſure ſome I feel, but more I fear,
And for the Peſtilence, who knows how near;
Famine and Plague, two Siſters of the Sword,
Deſtruction to a Land, doth ſoon afford:
They're for my puniſhment ordain'd on high,
Unleſs our tears prevent it ſpeedily.
But yet I Anſwer not what you demand.
To ſhew the grievance of my troubled Land?
Before I tell th' Effect, I'le ſhew the Cauſe
Which are my ſins the breach of ſacred Laws,
Idolatry ſupplanter of a Nation,
With fooliſh Superſtitious Adoration,
Are lik'd and countenanc'd by men of might,
The Goſpel troden down and hath no right▪
Church Offices were ſold and bought for gain,
That Pope had hope to find, Rome here again,
For Oaths and Blaſphemies, did ever Ear.
From Belzebub himſelf ſuch language hear;
What ſcorning of the Saints of the moſt high?
What injuries did daily on them lye?
What falſe reports, what nick-names did they take
Not for their own, but for their Maſters ſake?
And thou poor ſoul, wert jeer'd among the reſt,
Thy flying for the truth was made a jeſt.
For Sabbath-breaking, and for drunkenneſs,
Did ever land profaneſs more expreſs?
From crying blood yet cleanſed am not I,
Martyres and others, dying cauſeleſly.
How many princely heads on blocks laid dow…
For nought but title to a fading crown?
'Mongſt all the crueltyes by great ones done
Of Edwards youths, and Clarence hapleſs ſon,
O Jane why didſt thou dye in flowring prime?
Becauſe of royal ſtem, that was thy crime.
For bribery Adultery and lyes.
Where is the nation, I can't paralliz…
With uſury, extortion and oppreſſion,
Theſe be the Hydraes of my ſtout tranſgreſſion.
Theſe be the bitter fountains, heads and roots,
Whence flow'd the ſource, the ſprigs, the boughs & fruits
Of more then thou canſt hear or I relate,
That with high hand I ſtill did perpetrate:
For theſe were threatned the wofull day,
I mockt the Preachers, put it far away;
The Sermons yet upon Record do ſtand
That cri'd deſtruction to my wicked land:
I then believ'd not, now I feel and ſee,
The plague of ſtubborn incredulity.
Some loſt their livings, ſome in priſon pent,
Some fin'd from houſe & friends to exile went.
Their ſilent tongues to heaven did vengeance cry.
Who ſaw their wrongs & hath judg'd righteouſly
And will repay it ſeven-fold in my lap:
This is fore-runner of my A…terclap.
Nor took I warning by my neighbours falls,
I ſaw ſad Germanyes diſmantled walls,
I ſaw her people famiſh'd, Nobles ſlain,
Her fruitfull land, a barren Heath remain.
I ſaw unmov'd, her Armyes foil'd and fled,
VVives forc'd, babes toſs'd, her houſes calcined.
I ſaw ſtrong Rochel yielded to her Foe,
Thouſands of ſtarved Chriſtians there alſo.
I ſaw poor Ireland bleeding out her laſt,
Such crueltyes as all reports have paſt;
Mine heart obdurate ſtood not yet agaſt.
Now ſip I of that cup, and juſt't may be
The bottome dreggs reſerved are for me.
New-England.
To all you've ſaid, ſad Mother I aſſent.
Your fearfull ſins great cauſe there's to lament,
My guilty hands in part, hold up with you,
A Sharer in your puniſhment's my due.
But all you ſay amounts to this effect,
Not what you feel, but what you do expect,
Pray in plain terms, what is your preſent grief?
Then let's joyn heads & hearts for your relief.
Old England.
Well to the matter then, there's grown of late
'Twixt King and Peers a Queſtion of State,
Which is the chief, the Law, or elſe the King.
One ſaid, it's he, the other no ſuch thing.
'Tis ſaid, my beter part in Parliament
To eaſe my grouning Land, ſhew'd their intent,
To cruſh the proud, and right to each man deal.
To help the Church, and ſtay the Common-weal.
So many Obſtacles came in their way,
As puts me to a ſtand what I ſhould ſay;
Old cuſtomes, new Prerogatives ſtood on,
Had they …ot held Law faſt▪ all had been gone:
Which by their prudence ſtood them in ſuch ſtead
They took high Straff…rd lower by the head.
And to their Laud be't ſpoke, they held i'th tower
All Englands Metropolitane that hour;
This done, an act they would have paſſed fain,
No Prelate ſhould his Biſhoprick retain;
Here tugg'd they hard (indeed,) for all men ſaw
This muſt be done by Goſpel▪ no… by Law.
Next the Militia they urged ſore,
This was deny'd, (I need not ſay wherefore)
The King diſpleas'd at York, himſelf abſents,
They humbly beg return, ſhew their intents;
The writing, printing, poſting too and fro,
Shews all was done, I'le therefore let it go.
But now I come to ſpeak of my diſaſter,
Contention grown, 'twixt Subjects & their Maſter;
They worded it ſo long, they fell to blows,
That thouſands lay on heaps, here bleeds my woes,
I that no wars ſo many years have known,
Am now deſtroy'd and ſlaught'red by mine own;
But could the Field alone this ſtrife …cide,
One Battel two or three I might abide:
But theſe may be beginnings of more woe
Who knows, but this may be my overthrow.
Oh pity me in this ſad perturbation,
My plundred Towns, my houſes devaſtation,
My weeping Virgins and my young men ſlain;
My wealthy trading fall'n, my dearth of grain.
The ſeed-times come, but ploughman hath no hope
Becauſe he knows not, who ſhall inn his Crop:
The poor they want their pay, their children bread,
Their woful Mothers tears unpittied,
If any pity in thy heart remain,
Or any child-like love thou doſt retain,
For my relief, do what there lyes in thee,
And recompence that good I've done to thee.
New-England.
Dear Mother ceaſe complaints, & wipe your eyes,
Shake off your duſt, chear up, and now ariſe,
You are my Mother Nurſe, and I your fleſh,
Your ſunken bowels gladly would refreſh,
Your griefs I pity, but ſoon hope to ſee,
Out of your troubles much good fruit to be;
To ſee thoſe latter dayes of hop'd for good,
Though now beclouded all with tears and blood:
After dark Popery the day did clear,
But now the Sun in's brightneſs ſhall appear.
Bleſt be the Nobles of thy noble Land,
With ventur'd lives for Truths defence that ſtand.
Bleſt be thy Commons, who for common good,
And thy infringed Laws have boldly ſtood.
Bleſt be thy Counties, who did aid thee ſtill,
With hearts and States to teſtifie their will.
Bleſt be thy Preachers▪ who do chear thee on,
O cry the Sword of God and Gid…on;
And ſhall I not on them wiſh M…ro's curſe,
That help thee not with prayers, Arms and purſe?
And for my ſelf let miſeries abound,
If mindleſs of thy State I e're be found.
Theſe are the dayes the Churches foes to cruſh,
To root out Popelings head, tail, branch and ruſh;
Let's bring Baals veſtments forth to make a fire,
Their Mytires, Surplices, and all their Tire,
Copes, Rotchets, Croſſiers, and ſuch empty traſh,
And let their Names conſume, but let the flaſh
Light Chriſtendome, and all the world to ſee
We hate Romes whore, with all her trumpery.
Go on brave Eſſex with a Loyal heart,
Not falſe to King, nor to the better part;
But thoſe that hurt his people and his Crown,
As duty binds, expel and tread them down.
And ye brave Nobles chaſe away all fear,
And to this hopeful Cauſe cloſely adhere;
O Mother can you weep, and have ſuch Peers,
When they are gone, then drown your ſelf in tears
If now you weep ſo much, that then no more
The briny Ocean will o'reflow your ſhore.
Theſe, theſe are they I truſt, with Charles our King,
Out of all miſts ſuch glorious dayes ſhall bring;
That dazled eyes beholding much ſhall wonder
At that thy ſetled peace, thy wealth and ſplendor.
Thy Church and weal eſtabliſh'd in ſuch manner▪
That all ſhall joy, that thou diſplay'dſt thy Banner;
And diſcipline erected ſo I truſt,
That nurſing Kings ſhall come and lick thy duſt:
Then Juſtice ſhall in all thy Courts take place,
Without reſpect of perſon, or of caſe;
Then Bribes ſhall ceaſe, & Suits ſhall not ſtick long
Patience and purſe of Clients oft to wrong:
Then high Commiſſions ſhall fall to decay,
And Purſivants, and Catchpoles want their pay.
So ſhall thy happy Nation ever flouriſh,
When truth & righteouſnes they thus ſhall nouriſh
When thus in peace, thine Armies brave ſend out,
To ſack proud Rome, and all her Vaſſals rout;
There let thy Name, thy fame, and glory ſhine,
As did thine Anceſtors in Paleſtine:
And let her ſpoyls full pay, with Intereſt be,
Of what unjuſtly once ſhe poll'd from thee.
Of all the woes thou canſt, let her be ſped,
And on her pour the vengeance threatned;
Bring forth the Beaſt that rul'd the World with's beck,
And tear his fleſh, & ſet your feet on's neck;
And make his filthy Den ſo deſolate,
To th' ſtoniſhment of all that knew his ſtate:
This done with brandiſh'd Swords to Turky goe,
For then what is't, but Engliſh blades dare do,
And lay her waſte for ſo's the ſacred Doom,
And do to Gog as thou haſt done to Rome.
Oh Abraham's ſee… lift up your heads on high,
For ſure the day of your Redemption's nigh;
The Scales ſhall fall from your long blinded eyes,
And him you ſhall adore who now deſpiſe,
Then fulneſs of the Nations in ſhall flow,
And Jew and Gentile to one worſhip go;
Then …ollows dayes of happineſs and reſt;
Whoſe lot doth fall to live therein is bleſt:
No Canaanite ſhall then be found i'th' Land,
And holineſs on horſes bells ſhall ſtand.
If this make way thereto, then ſigh no more,
But if at all, thou didſt not ſee't before;
Farewel dear Mother, righteſt cauſe prevail,
And in a while, you'le tell another tale.