Zion in Distress, Poem 1 · Part 25 – Part 39
CHRIST.
IN glorious Regions of approachleſs light
Where Joys unmixt with perfect love unite;
There do I ſit, there do I ſee and hear
What Kings and Potentates conſulting are,
…eſounding in mine Ears continually,
…hear a bitter, and complaining cry.
I feel my Bowels with compaſſion move,
And therefore 'tis the voice of one I love,
She whom I purchaſed with my deareſt blood▪
Seems drencht in tears and drowned in flood▪
Some grievous ſorrow, or great tribulation,
Extorts from her this doleful lamentation,
Enough to pierce my tender heart again.
And make the Temple rend once more in twain▪
Alas poor Sion! thy ſad voice I hear,
I'le come and help thee, for I know thy fear,
And what occaſions theſe thy lanquid Moans,
I know thy ſorrow, and I hear thy Groans.
'Tis I can ſtill the bluſt'ring Winds and Seas,
And in thy greateſt Anguiſh give thee eaſe.
'Tis I can wound, and cure; I build, I break,
I kill, I make alive: I give and take.
And can (if I think fit) make Nations ſhake,
And Kingdoms totter, reeling to and fro:
I for thy ſake, ſtrange things will quickly do.
In thy affliction, great diſtreſs and pain,
Of which thou doſt, ſo grievouſly complain,
I am afflicted: What they do to thee.
Of hurt or wrong, I take as done to me;
I tender thee as th' Apple of mine Eye,
Fear not therefore, thy proudeſt Enemy.
Although with Foes thou art environ'd now,
All power and wiſdom is mine; and I know how
To ſtrengthen thee, and make them all to bow▪
I will ariſe and ſhew my Soveraignty;
Ile make them to the Rocks and Mountains fly;
Though with the Powers of Hell they have combin'd
I will purſue them, & they ſhall not fiud
A hiding place my vengeance to avoid,
Till by my fury they be all deſtroy'd
I will bring down each high and lofty head,
Their mighty ones like Mortar I will tread.
Thy cauſe Ile plead, though ſilent I have ſtood,
Ile be reveng'd for all the Righteous blood,
That has run down like to a Mighty flood.
And therefore now; Ile make no long delay,
What's due to Juſtice, they ſhall ſurely pay;
Beſides the bloody wrongs thou doſt repeat
The crying Martyrs loudly do intreat
Me to avenge their blood, therefore I will
Come down in fury, and thoſe Monſters kill;
Then, thou before me very ſtrong ſhalt wax,
For Ile make thee my dreadful Battle-Ax.
Thy Horn ſhall Iron be, & thy Hoof Braſs,
With which thou ſhalt tread down the Serpents race.
Thy Sons that ſcatter'd o're the Earth throughout,
I will ſoon gather with a mighty ſhout.
The Mighty they ſhall overcome with Slings,
And bind in Fetters perfecuting Kings.
Ill lay thy Stones, with Colours fair and ſure,
Thy ſtrong Foundation ſhall be Saphyrs pure:
Although I ſeem'd to have forſaken thee,
Yet, from all bondage I will ſet thee free,
Though I have thee afflicted heretofore,
Ile turn my hand upon the bloody VVhore;
Becauſe thou doſt my holy Name profeſs,
Ill break in peice them that thee oppreſs:
Arm'd with Commiſſion from the great Jehove,
I will come down and all thy Griefs remove.
All Weapons form'd againſt my Sion, ſhall
Unproſp'rous prove, for I will break them all.
I'll teach thy Children, give thee laſting Peace,
Converted Gentiles ſhall the Church increaſe.
Though wicked Men with words do thee deride,
Thy Borders I'll enlarge on every ſide.
Each hungry Soul with plenty I will feed,
The Earth I will divide among thy Seed.
I've promis'd that they ſhall the world poſſeſs,
And will perform it now in Righteouſneſs.
I will deſcend unto my Holy Hill,
The Earth with knowledge I will quickly fill.
I will ſupperſs al Luxury and Riot,
The Heathen in my preſence ſhall be quiet.
Above all Kings I ſhall exalted be,
And Rule the Earth with Soveraign Majeſty.
When all the Kingdoms in the World are mine,
Then thou in Beauty like a Queen ſhalt ſhine;
And with thy Children in ſweet Conſort ſing,
Triumphant Hallelujahs to your King.
SION.
O Matchleſs Grace, and Love beyond degree!
Now I am certain there is none like Thee,
In Heav'n or Earth, were there ten thouſand more
For thou haſt found a Salve for every Sore.
Tranſported by thy love, with joy I cry,
My Raviſht Spirit muſt exalt the high.
And mighty Lord, by whoſe unbounded grace,
My hearts enlarg'd to run the bleſſed Race;
Thou ſhalt conduct me to thy living Springs:
From thence I'll mouant up, as with Eagles Wings,
VntoUnto the Heavenly Mount of Faith's deſire,
Where I thy Grace and Glory will admire;
Then I'll deſcend from thoſe Abodes above,
To be embraced in the Arms of Love.
I'll hold thee faſt, and never let th… go,
For by thy loſs, O what a Depth of Wo
Did I ſuſtain! In what a dreadful Caſe
Was I, when thou didſt hide thy glorious face!
Thee having, though nought elſn what have I not?
Without thee, though all elſe what have I got?
Lord having all things, and not thee, what have I?
Let me enjoy but thee, what further crave I?
Without thee nothing is of worth to me;
All things are vile—when once compar'd to thee.
To be thy Portion, Lord, thou didſt me chuse,
And thou my Portion art: I'll …'re refuſe
So rich a Grace: thou art my Heritage,
Thou art a God of Love from Age to Age,
And therefore evermore I'll dwell with thee,
For thou alone, my Hiding-place ſhalt be.
In time of trouble and of fury great,
I will unto thy Holy Name retreat;
Which is a ſure defence to all that fly
With care and ſpeed from their iniquity.
When I was down, thou lift'ſt me up on high,
And I thy Name will therefore magnify.
O Lord, with Patience I will undergo
Their indignation, for I well do know
I have provok't thy great and glorious Name,
Which is the cauſe that I do ſuffer ſhame:
Although at preſent I am low and mean,
Poor and deſpis'd, and ſo long time have been;
Thou canſt all Sorrows to thy Sion bleſs,
I therefore, in thy Pleaſure acquieſce;
I'll wait upon thee, till thou doſt ariſe
To break in pieces all mine Enemies:
My precious Cauſe then I do leave with thee,
Which thou, O Lord, wilt ſurely plead for me;
Thy Voice is to my raviſht Soul ſo ſweet,
That I'm reviv'd, and ſet upon my feet:
I'll ſpeak thy Praiſe in Songs, becauſe I ſee
That Glory near, which thou haſt promis'd me.
And now thou bloudy Whore, that art my Foe,
My time's at hand, which thou ſhalt quickly know.
My God has not forſaken me, for now
He will advance me, and make thee to bow:
Then ſhalt thou hide (for ſhame) thy filthy head,
Whilſt I, in Triumph, ſhall upon thee tread;
Becauſe ſo long, thou haſt upon me trod,
And in Contempt haſt ſaid, Where is thy God?
He will therefore in Right retaliate,
And bring juſt Vengeance on thy curſed Pate.
Babylon.
POOR Sion! thou art much mistaken;
I'm mounted high, thou art forſaken:
Sure thou art Frantick, when thou doſt
Make ſuch a vain and groundleſs boaſt:
The final Conqueſt muſt be mine,
And ſwift Deſtruction muſt be thine;
For all my Wounds I've got a Cure,
From all your Darts I am ſecure.
I am arriv'd at height of Bliſs,
My Glory in its Zenith is.
I am a Queen, and ſhall remain
Supream on Earth, I only reign
In glitt'ring Grandeur over all.
Great Monarchs Me their Miſtriſs call:
How can I fall, when ſuch a Prop
Supports, as my Lord God the POPE?
All Men on Earth, His Vaſſals are,
Who ſits in Peter's Holy Chair;
The Empire of the World he hath,
He keeps the Keys of Hell and Death▪
Doſt think he fears the little tricks
Of thy ſmall brood of Hereticks?
He can make uſe (when he doth pleaſe)
Of Peter's Sword, as well as Keys.
His Canons roar, as loud as Guns,
To cruſh thy feeble, Pigmy-Sons.
Let but his Bulls give an Alarm,
Hee'll make all Chriſtendom to Arm
Themſelves in my defence, and work
Thine Overthrow; didst thou not lurk
Some Hundred Years, that none could ſee,
Or know, what was become of thee?
He that could rend thy force aſunder,
Has ſtill the Strength to keep thee under:
He will thee in Subjection keep,
So that thou ſhalt not dare to peep.
Am I not armed with the Power
Of all the Earth? I can devour
Your Int'reſt at a ſingle Meſs,
I have fit Cooks ſuch Meals to dreſs;
Th' Imperial and the Regal Sword
Are brandiſh'd when I give the word:
Great Princes, Dukes and Nobles will
With all their force My Mind fulfil;
My Gentry who brave Heroes are,
Reſolved be, no Pains to ſpare;
Their Very Lives they'll freely ſpend
To bring my Purpoſe to an end;
My Brisk Mounſieurs, My Spaniſh Dons,
Will over-match thy ſilly Sons:
My Rogues in Grain, I ready have,
Obedient like a Turky-ſlave:
If bid to thruſt their bloudy Knives
In throats of Fathers, Children, Wives,
In any's out their own they'll do't,
And lay them ſprawling at my Foot.
I've Teagues and Torys at my Beck,
Will wring their Heads as Chickens Neck;
Try'd Villains! that will never ſtart
From Mothers Womb to tear the heart
Of Unborn-Infants; they'll deflour,
Then rip her up in half an hour:
Faint Rogues will melt with qualms of fears
At Fathers Groans, or Mothers Tears;
But mine are void of any Senſe,
Not plagu'd with bawling Conſcience.
To ſome I give no conſtant pay,
Yet they can hunt and live by Prey.
Your Infants that (like Carps) are ſtew'd
In their own bloud, their Chops have chew'd.
The Fathers Cawls ſhall make a light
For thoſe Sweet Banquets of the Night.
What e're my greedy Stomack craves,
But Nod, 'tis done, by ready Slaves:
They know no ſcruples nor diſpute,
But act juſt like a Turkiſh Mute.
Beſides all theſe, I could deſcribe
Vaſt Muſters of my Sacred Tribe:
My Clergy makes a num'rous Hoſt,
That wait in ſwarms in every Coaſt.
Yea, ev'n in all Rebellious Regions,
I have in ſecret Armed Legions:
A Great Grandee my Enſign carrys,
The Jeſuits are my Janiſaries.
Thou ſee'ſt what Troops do guard my Chair,
What canſt thou do then but Deſpair?
Thou ſeeſt me lodg'd in ſafe abode,
Whilſt thou'rt forſaken by the God.
Hee's doubtleſs pleas'd with my behaviour,
For I alone have got his Favour.
Th' Apocalyptick Prophecy
You falſely do to me apply;
For I from Sin am waſhed clean;
Thou art the Whore, he there does mean;
I am the Church, and therefore I,
Thy Threats, Thy GOD, and Thee, Defie.
Sion.
LEave off, leave off, thou Bloudy minded Whore
Imagine not that thou ſhalt Evermore
Thus Domineer in Pomp and ſwacy Pride,
For God e're long, thy Rulers will divide.
Thoſe Mighty Ones, in whom is all thy Truſt,
Long ſhall not hold, but into peices muſt
Be ſurely broken: thou ſhalt quickly ſee
The ſwift beginning of thy Miſery.
Thoſe that did love thee moſt, will hate thee ſo,
That they will ſeek thy utter Overthrow;
As was their love, their hatred then will be,
And to deſtory thee they will all agree.
Thou haſt inſlav'd them to thy bruitiſh Luſt,
Whilſt they (like ſimple Fools) in no wiſe durſt
Offend or croſs thy baſe and bloudy mind;
That they have been bewitcht, they then will find,
By thine alluring Voice, and luſtful Eye,
To joyn with thee in black iniquity.
Thy Flatterys ſhall then no more deceive;
Nor thy baſe Whoredoms Thouſands more bereave
Of inward peace, and outward riches, ſo
As they have been, to their eternal Wo:
Then ſhall they ſee thy Villanous Intent,
In ſetting them againſt the Innocent.
To Glut thy Baſe Adulterous Deſire,
Their ſinful hearts were in a flaming Fire,
And through the Inſtigation of the Devil,
Became partakers of this Monſtrous Evil.
But, what approaches? Hark! methinks I hear
Some Dreadful Noiſe! ſee how the Mountains tear
And Mighty Hills do into peices fly;
Whilſt Lightning flaſhes through the Angry Sky;
The Stars and Planets in Confuſion hurl'd,
Have baniſht Natures Order from the World.
See how the Melting Orbs of Heaven ſweat,
Like Parchment Parcht, and ſhrivel'd up with heat,
Loud Thunder-Cracks through the Enraged Air,
With frightful Aſpects Meteors do appear,
To uſher in the Day of Heav'ns dread Ire
On thoſe, who do againſt the Saints conspire.
Gods (long incenſed) Majeſty is come
To judge the Whore, and paſs her final Doom.
Of Treaſon ſhe is under an Attainder,
For which Impartial Juſtice will arraign her.
She's ſeiz'd upon and in the Jaylors hands,
Who only waits for Juſtices Commands.
Jehovah bids, that Babylon the great
Be forthwith brought before his Judgement-Sea…
Justice.
MOſt Sovereign Lord, who is it dares gainſay…
What thou command'ſt? I muſt and will obey
Lo, here I bring the Scarlet Strumpt forth
Before thee who createdſt Heav'n and Earth:
Thy Judgment-Seat ſhe ſeems to ſlight and ſcorn,
Says ſhe's as guiltleſs as the Child unborn.
Jehovah.
HEr Crimes lay open, and her facts declare,
Turn up her Skirts and let her faults appear:
Let th'Vniverſe by her Indictment ſee
The cauſe of my moſt juſt Severity.
Juſtice.
DRead Sov'reign of the World! I will proceed,
And will her black Indictment loudly read.
Come forth, Great Whore! and hear your diſmal charge,
Which ſhall by proofs be evidenc'd at large.
By th' Name of BABYLON, thou'rt hither cited,
And by the Name of Whore, thou ſtand'ſt Indicted.
Thou void of Grace, and Gods moſt Holy Fear,
To Satans Machinations didſt adhere;
With him, to plot againſt thy Sov'reign Prince,
To whom thou ought'ſt to yield Preheminence.
In Ancient times he was thine only Spouſe,
(Our Holy Law no Bigamy allows)
Yet thou haſt him perfidiouſly forſook,
And to thy ſelf another Husband took;
And with a graceleſs Impudence art led
By they lewd Train, to an Adult'rous Bed.
Thou haſt dethron'd him, and thy brazen face
Sets up a Monstrous Traitor in his place,
To whom thou haſt Blaſphemous Titles given,
Exalting him above the God of Heaven.
Thou haſt not only playd th' Adultereſs,
But plain Idolatry thou doſt profeſs;
Of Treaſon, Murder, Theft, (abhorred things!)
Of Burning Citys, poyſoning of Kings,
Of Undermining States, and furthermore,
Of ſpoiling Trade, and making Kingdoms poor,
Of horrid Plots, of cauſeleſs bloudy Wars,
And of contriving cruel Maſſacres,
Thou guilty art; thy bloudy Rage has hurl'd
Millions of Innocents Out of the World:
Prodigious Numbers have in divers Lands
Been Sacrific'd by thy bloud-thirſty hands.
Inſatiate Butcheries that know no end!
Thou ſtabd'ſt men, when thou Pity didſt pretend.
In times of Peace thy horrid rage has ſhed
Bloud without Meaſure, thou haſt murthered
(Perfidious Wretch!) thy neareſt Neigbours when
They thought themſelves the moſt ſecure of m…n,
Thou haſt made Currents of their guiltleſs …
To run like Waters of a mighty Flood;
So void of Pity, your inhumane rage
Deſtroy'd the Saints, and ſpar'd no Sex nor Age.
Speak Bloudy Whore, hold up thy Graceleſs Head,
Guilty, or Not? By Law thou art to plead.
Babylon.
LOok down, Bleſt Virgin! and bid Juſtice ſtay…
Speak to thy Son to drive my Foes away:
You Glorious Saints, who near St. Mary ſtand,
In my diſtreſs, lend me your helping hand.
All Angels, and Arch-Angels I invoke,
To ſtrengthen me, and to divert the Stroke:
Theſe Hereticks will work wy Overthrow,
I am amaz'd, I know not what to do!
Belzebub.
WHat needs my Darling thus to ſtand and pauſe, Laws,
Thou know'ſt the Cuſtom of our Romiſh
Though black as Hell, yet be not ſo forlorn;
Swear, that thou'rt guiltleſs, as the Child unborn.
What Violence to Hereticksy ou do,
Is lawful, honeſt, and your Duty too.
Juſtice.
PLead Vile Delinquent! or thou ſhalt receive
The Fatal Sentence which I am to give.
Babylon.
I Do affirm the Charge is falſe, and I
All Points of this Indictment do deny.
Produce your Proofs, I'll ſtand in juſt Defence
Of my apparent, ſpotleſs Innocence.
Juſtice.
THat like a Harlot, of thine own accord,
Thou haſt forſaken thine Eſpouſed Lord,
Will be made evident (to thy diſgrace)
By clear probation in its proper place.
You ſay, that you your God can daily make,
Which is an Idol of a Wafer-Cake.
If thou doſt Shrines and Images adore,
And prov'd to be th' Apocalyptick Whore;
If thou upon the Scarlet Beaſt doth ſit,
And Lewdneſs with ſo many Kings commit;
It clearly follows from theſe Marks, that thou
Art a meer Strumpet, and haſt broke thy Vow.
If thou art by the Papal Edicts led,
Diſ-owning Chriſt, and making that thy Head:
The conſequence is clear, for thou muſt be
Guilty of Whoredom and Idolatry.
And to examine thy Notorious Deeds,
This great Tribunal out of hand proceeds:
Call in the Witneſſes—
Waldenſes.
Albigenſes.
Proteſtants of Piedmont.
Savoy, &c.
—DRead Lord! we're here,
And with our just Complaints do now appear.
That Bloudy Whore, the Pris'ner at the Bar,
Has follow'd us with a perpetual War,
Becauſe we would not to her Idols bow,
Nor her curs'd Edicts and baſe pranks allow.
About the diſmal Year of Fifty Five,
A dreadful Maſſacre ſhe did contrive
Within the Territories of Savoy,
Where thirty Thouſand Souls ſhe did deſtroy
In three days time, Curs'd Edicts bid them turn
To Popery, or they muſt hang or burn.
Which when thoſe Innocents refus'd to do,
Moſt horrid Execution did enſue;
Our Brethrens Brains out of their Heads were beaten
And by her Imps were fry'd and after eaten:
Our Children rent to pieces, thrown to Dogs,
And our dear Paſtors flung (as Meat) to Hogs;
Others on Pikes into the Air were toſt,
And many others they alive did roaſt;
Some ty'd with Ropes they pierc'd unto the (hearts,
And hung up others by their Secret Parts.
Houſes and Barn-fulls they have burnt, ſo that
Our Suff'rings are beyond an Eſtimate.
Bohemia.
Germany.
Poland.
Lithuania, &c.
TO ſatifie this cruel Strumpets Luſt,
Some Thouſands have been turned unto duſt:
Our Towns and Famous Cities of Renown
She hath diſ-peopled, burnt or broken down:
The Ruins ſtill appear and deſolations
In many places of our Spoiled Nations.
Great Multitudes un-numbred were our Slain
Which in the Field unburied did remain:
Our Brethren they have hung upon a Beam
And then conſum'd them in a lingring flame.
Some ſhe has into boyling Cauldrons put,
And many others into peices cut,
Without reſpect unto the Hoary Head,
Into their Throats they powr'd down melted Lead;
And many other deaths ſhe did contrive:
Some burned were, and others flead alive.
Into deep Mines, three thouſand Souls and more,
At ſeveral times were tumbled by this Whore;
Becauſe they would not their Religion leave,
And unto Romiſh Superſtitions cleave,
That worthy Man John Huſs, was burn'd to death,
For owning of the Apoſtolick Faith;
Jerom of Prague, to fill her Meaſure up,
She made, ſoon after, drink of the ſame Cup.
'Twere endleſs to enumerate our grief:
From thee, Juſt Judge, we do expect Relief.
France.
AH! How ſhall I my inward grief diſcloſe!
What Tongue is able to recount my Woes?
Prodigious Numbers of my Natives have,
By this Whores means, found an untimely Grave.
The barb'rous Harlot would not be content,
To kill or drive them into Baniſhment;
But with unheard of Crueltys ſhe muſt
Their Bodys mangle, to aſſwage her Luſt;
Some hang'd in Water, yield their ſtrangled breath;
Some brain'd on A…vils, ſome were ſtarv'd to death;
Some hall'd with Pullies, till the Top they meet
With heavy Weights and Loads upon their feet.
Rap't Maidens ſtab'd, poor Infants yet unborn,
From Mothers Wombs by bloudy hands were torn
How many thouſand guiltleſs Chriſtians were
Butcher'd in the Pariſian Maſſacre?
Some broke on Croſſes, ſome were cut in twain,
Whilſt others languiſh in a lingring pain.
Our Worthy Kings have loſt their Noble Lives
By Jeſuits Poyſons, and by Monkiſh Knives.
I can produce an uncontroull'd Record
Of many Thouſands Murder'd by the Sword.
It would require whole Volumes to tranſcribe
The bloudy acts of this Infernal Tribe.
Deep dolour hinders what I would ſay more!
O Glorious Judge! avenge me on this Whore.
Italy.
Spain.
Portugal.
Low Countrys, &c.
REnowned Judge! thoſe Witneſſes that have
Their Grief preſented & do Judgment crave,
Save us much labour, for we heretofore
Have felt the ſame, from this blond-thirsty Whore.
Beſides, being next her Seat, and neer her Power,
Her greedy Jaws Our Brethren did devour
With cruel Spite, and without intermiſſion,
We have been tortur'd in her Inquiſition.
No Tongue can ſpeak the unexampled terror
Of that curſt Pattern of Infernal horrour.
They count it mild, when they our Perſons burn,
And Wives and Children into Aſhes; turn;
They ſay they're courteous when our Throats they cut
Or when in Dungeons (vile as Hell) we're put.
They ſay they favour us, when they employ
Their Daggers, Piſtols, Axes to deſtroy.
In lingring flames they did our Brethren roaſt,
On Halberts tops we ſaw our Infants toſt:
All this we've ſuffer'd, and a Thouſand more,
And that by means of this Infernal Whore.
Ireland.
COuld deepeſt grief receive Additions, I
Would give Examples of her Cruelty.
I can her in more monſtrous colours draw,
Than Bloudy Nero, or Caligula.
Thoſe horrid Tortures which may Brethren ſay
She exercis'd on them, the ſame I may
Affirm t' have ſuffer'd, by the inſtigation
Of this vile Strumpet, whoſe Abomination.
Stinks in the Noſtrils of each civil Nation.
Her curſed Prieſts, when firſt they did begin
Our Maſſacre, proclaim'd it was a ſin
Unpardonable, if they durſt to give
Quarter, or our Neceſſities relieve;
Some they ſtript Naked, then they bid them go
Through Bogs & Mountains, in the Froſt & Snow
Men, Women, Children, then were butchered,
And all that ſpoke our Language puniſhed;
The very Cattel, if of English breed,
They ſlaſht and mangled, that they could not feed.
With joy, that Romiſh and rebellious Brood
Have waſh't their hands in Marty'd English bloud▪
Thouſands of naked Proteſtants that fled
From theſe Barbarians have been famiſhed.
Their faithleſs Gentry, that pretended love,
Perſwaded th' English that they would remove
Their Goods to them; Yet (once poſſeſſion got)
They (like perfidious wretches) cut their Throat.
Numbers of naked Women they did drive
Into a Barn, and burnt them all alive.
Each Sex and Age, that could not from them fly,
Did by theſe Blood-hounds, without mercy die.
Once at the fatal Bridge of Portladown,
A thouſand Souls theſe Miſcreants did drown;
A couple (with five Children) firſt they hung,
And in a Hole th' expiring bodies flung;
The youngeſt on the Mothers breaſt did ſtick,
Cries, Mammy, Mammy, yet is buryed quick.
Some hackt to pieces, travailing Women ſtrip'd,
And half…born Infants from their bellies rip'd!
Which (with their Mothers) h…ngry Dogs did eat,
And Swine fed on them, as on common meat.
When ſome poor Souls in burning Houſes Cry,
The Villains ſaid, How ſweetly do they Fr…!
When holy Scripture in the flames did caſt,
They cry, 'Tis Hell-fire, and a lovely blaſt;
That bleſſed Book, when ſome have trampled on,
They cry, Plague on't, that has the miſchief done.
They made poor Wives, their Husbands blood to ſpill,
And trembling Youths, their aged Parents kill.
They forc'd the Son to ſtab his Deareſt Mother,
And then one Brother to deſtroy the other.
Some they put faſt in Stocks, then teach a Brat
To rip them, and make Candles of their Fat.
How many Virgins did they Raviſh firſt?
Then with their Hearts-blood quench their eager thirſt!
Some they did bury juſt unto the Head,
And left them on ſurrounding Graſs to feed.
Struck faſt on Tenter-hooks, grave Matrons were,
And Virgins hang'd up in their Mothers Hair.
Some, with their ſmall Guts, were forc'd to run
About a Tree, until their Life was gone.
The Mouths of godly Miniſters they cut
Unto their Ears; betwixt their Jaws they put
A monſtrous Gag, then with a Romiſh Scoff
They bid them preach, their Mouths were large enough.
In theſe furies brag'd, that (to their joy)
They did Two hundred thouſand Souls deſtroy.
We therefore pray, as others did before,
For a juſt Sentence on this bloody Whore.
Scotland.
O Monſtrous horror! Oh abhorred ſink
Of Villany! O bloody Throats that drink
The Bloods of Innocents! which oft they qua…t
As freely as a common Mornings Draught!
Thouſands of mine were butcher'd by this Whor…
In that poor Nation, that has ſpoke before
The ſufferings of my guiltleſs Natives, were
Equal with theirs in every little there.
Yet this blood thirſty Curtezan of Rome,
Was not content, but tortur'd me at home.
Some burnt, ſome hang'd, ſome ſcourg'd, ſome banished,
Some drown'd, and ſome in Dungeons murdered.
A ſinking Grief forbids me to inlarge,
Or elſe with eaſe I'd aggravate her charge.
Since Goſpel Light did in my Borders ſhine,
She thirſted to deſtroy both me and mine.
Her Imps all parts, like filthy Locuſts fill,
And ſuch as they cannot delude, they kill.
Her Wolves put on the Habit of my Sheep,
And in their Folds deſtroy them as they ſleep.
They have an art to work upon the weak,
That they Gods Order ſhould in pieces break;
Under pretences of refrom'd Devotion,
They inſtigate the Rabble to Commotion;
That in thoſe troubled Waters they may fiſh,
And bring about their long expected with.
Their curſed Politicks have been employ'd,
To r…in thoſe that they have ſo decay'd.
A thouſand Forgeries they do invent,
To charge their Plots upon the innocent:
That (Whilſt they act the Rogues in Maſquerade)
Poor guiltl…ſs Saints the Victims may be made▪
Thus have I open'd ſomething of my Grief,
And from the Judge expect a quick relief.