A Voice Tending to the Pacification of Gods Wrath, Canto 5

A Voice Tending to the Pacification of Gods Wrath · Canto 5

p. 1The Contents, of the firſt Canto.

Firſt, here is to your view prefer'd

When, where, and how this VOICE was heard:

What kind of Muzings were the ground:

What worlds, and wonders, may be found

Within our ſelves: what ſafe-Retreats

From thoſe oppreſſions, frauds, and baits.

Which are without: how little feare

Of Terrours, which affright us here:

How plainly, there, a man may ſee

The villanies, that acted be

For private ends, with publike ſhowes:

How generall the miſchiefe growes:

Why, to acquaint you with this VOICE,

GOD by ſo meane a man makes choice:

Then, ſhewes how our grand-hopes deceive us,

And, prayes his aid, that muſt relieve us.

I Who (before my Harp was tun'd or ſtrung)

Began to play a deſcant on the Times.

And was among the firſt of thoſe that ſung

The ſcorn and ſhame of VICE, in Engliſh Rymes.

…, that have, now, juſt halfe the Age of Man,

Been ſlaſhing at thoſe Hydro's heads of ſin,

p. 2Which are, yet, more then when I firſt began;

And more deformed growne, then they have bin.

I, that have ſpoke of Truth, till few believe it;

Of taking heed, till Follie hath her doome;

Of Good-advice, till no man will receive it;

And, of Deſerved-Plagues, till they are come:

Once more appeare, with an intent, to ſay

A needfull Word in ſeaſon, if I may.

The Sun hath run his courſe through all the Signes,

And, thirteen times the Moone renew'd her light,

Since laſt I limb'd my thoughts in meaſur'd lines,

Or, felt my heart for Numbers tun'd aright;

For, ever ſince my Muſings in the Pield,

The cloſe whereof, a Voice of PEACE fore-tells,

With ſuch diſord'red thoughts I have been fild

As uſe to thrive where ſad diſtemper dwells:

And, we have, All, ſo broken that Condition,

On which our wiſhed Comforts founded are,

That, of accompliſhing our hopes fruition,

Not many certaine ſymptomes, yet, appear;

Though, therefore, I have ſilent been till now,

My ſlowneſſe blame not, neither murmure you.

The Muſes are not ſtill at my command,

Whereby thoſe Informations are acquir'd,

Which many have expected at my hand;

(And ſomwhat out of ſeaſon too, deſir'd.)

The VOICE, there mentioned, was but a Sound,

Not then, articulated into words;

The perfect Forme thereof I had not found,

Nor what interpretation it affords.

If I had ſpoken, e're I had mine Arrant,

Beyond my wit, my forward tongue had went;

If I had run, before I had my Warrant,

Well might I, for my labour, have been ſhent.

There is, for all things an appointed houre;

And, Times, and Seaſons, are not in my power.

p. 3My Veſſell ſtirreth not, till that Wind blowes

Which never blowes but when, and where it liſt:

Drie is my Ciſterne, till that Fountain flowes,

Whoſe flowings-forth, I cannot then reſiſt.

Somtimes, in me, ſo low the Waters lie,

That every Childe and Beaſt is trampling on me;

Somtime againe, they riſe, they ſwell ſo high,

That Princes cannot make a Bridge upon me.

Had King, and Parliament, the other day,

Commanded from me that which now I write,

To ſave my life, I knew not what to ſay

Of that, which was inſpired yeſternight:

And, being, now, as full as I can hold,

Though none they pleaſe, my Muſings muſt be told.

Miſtake not tho, as if it ſhould be thought,

That by Enthuſiaſme, now, I write;

Or, that the matter which to me is brought,

By GODS immediate dictates, I indite.

Far is that Arrogancie from my Pen:

The Objects of my Contemplation, be

The ſame which GOD affords to other men,

The Muſes challenge a peculiar phraſe

And freedomes, not ſo well becoming thoſe,

Who are confined to obſerve the lawes

Of common ſpeech, and tell their minds in proſe:

For, whereas theſe have but one worke to do,

I have, in my Intentions, often two.

To reaſon out a Truth, is their perfection;

That, ſo, mens judgements terrifie they might:

Thereat, I aime: But, how to move Affection,

And ſet the motions of the Will aright,

Is my chiefe work: And; to that end, I catch

At all advantages of Place and Time,

Of Actions, or Expreſſions; and, I watch

For ev'ry meanes of well improving them.

p. 4By which endeavours (and, for ought I know,

By ſome aid, more then ordinary too)

Mixt with mine own Conjectures, I fore-ſhow

Some things, which GOD requires, or means to do.

And, when I apprehend ſuch things as theſe,

They neither are conceall'd, nor told with eaſe.

As when a portion of new ſpritly-wine,

Is in a cloſe, and crazie Veſſell pent,

Which neither can ſufficiently confine

The working Liquour, nor well give it vent;

Ev'n ſo I far'd: For, (though I felt my breaſt

With matter fully ſtor'd) ſeaven daies I ſtrove

My ſwelling Thoughts, in Words, to have expreſt,

Yet neither could deſiſt, nor forward move.

But, on that night in which our Monethly-Faſt

Had ſwallow'd up our greateſt Feſtivall,

My Muſe broke looſe: And, now the ſtop is paſt,

Will run her Courſe, what ever may befall;

And (ſince to ſpeak her mind ſhe hath begun)

Reſolves, She will be heard, e're She hath done.

Once more therefore, yee BRITAINS lend an eare;

KING, PRIEST, & PEOPLE mark what now I ſay,

And, if you ſhall be pleas'd this VOICE to heare,

Take heed, you harden not your hearts to day.

For, if your pride, and follie, ſhall deſpiſe

The gentle VOICE, that now ſalutes your eare,

Ere long, there ſhall another VOICE ariſe,

Which will not ſuch a peacefull note preferre.

It ſhall not move with ſo becalm'd a Breath,

Nor be dilated through ſo milde an ayre,

But, from the wombe of Hell, and Jawes of Death,

Be thund'red forth, with horrours and deſpaire:

And, few ſhall hear that VOICES dreadfull ſound,

Without a ſmarting, and a cureleſſe wound.

Though you my former Warnings did abuſe,

It brookes excuſe: Becauſe, I ſo fore-told

p. 5Enſuing things, as yet, no Moderne-Muſe

Hath done the like; and few in times of old:

But, now, by ſeeing thoſe Predictions true,

You, as it were, an Earneſt have receiv'd,

And an aſſurance, tendred unto you,

That, what is here declar'd, may be believ'd.

By vertue, therefore, of that Seal, and Signe,

I challenge that beleefe, and that reſpect,

Which appertaineth to this VOICE of mine,

Till, thence, I ſeeke to draw ſome ill effect;

By making that, which hath fulfilled bin,

An Argument to warrantize a ſin.

If an advantage I ſhall take from thence,

To tempt, from any duty to be done;

To act, what gives the Deitie offence,

Or any unbeſeeming Courſe to run;

Let me be cenſur'd as Impoſtors ought,

That woo the world, by ſeeking Heaven in ſhow:

Or as a man that's by deluſion taught,

To take more paines for Hell, then others do.

But, if this VOICE, by Truth ſhall ſtand approv'd,

And by your Conſciences allowed be;

Reſiſt not that, whereto you ſhall be mov'd,

Nor of my Hopes, at this time, hinder me:

For, in their proſecution, I'le proceed,

How e're you practice, or how ere I ſpeed.

The twentieth year, tenth monethmonth, and ſixteenth day,

With carefull thoughts, and thoughtfull heart oppreſt,

Near to the fruitfull Banks of Thame I lay,

With waking eyes, whilſt others were at reſt,

It was that day, on which they mournd apart,

By whom this Realm hath repreſented bin;

(Thereby, inſtructing ev'ry Single-heart,

Which way, the Peace deſired, muſt begin)

With private griefs, I had enough to do,

To rob my body, and my mind of reſt:

p. 6Yet, I had many publike ſorrowes, too,

By which, my other ſuffrings were increaſt:

And, who was ever unafflicted known,

That beareth others burdens with his own?

Were I but onelyonly rob'd of my eſtate,

And, thereby brought in danger to be poore;

Or of ſuch other miſchiefs, as of late

Theſe warres have brought on me, and many more:

Could I no other miſeries conceive,

Then thoſe, which make our carkaſſes to ſmart,

Our children crie, our tender women grieve,

Or trie the ſtoutneſſe of a manly heart:

Were but the outward glories of this Realme,

Or of this Church, indanger'd, and no more;

Our wounds had needed but a common balme,

A ſigh or two had blown my ſorrowes ore:

Becauſe, for ſhells, but little care I take,

Save onelyonly for the precious kernell ſake.

But, though the happineſſe of Realmes and Men,

Doth not, alone, in outward things conſiſt;

(Nay, rather gaines perfection, now and then,

By having ſome externall bleſſing miſt)

Yet, he to his experience little owes,

Who ſees not, that defect of needfull things,

Breeds incivility; and overthrowes

That induſtrie, from whence well-being ſprings.

And, he to our condition is a ſtranger,

Who knowes not, that, by theſe diſtractions here,

Reformed-Churches are (this day) in danger

To ſuffer, in our ſuffrings, ev'ry where:

And, that, if our confuſions we purſue,

Meer Barbarifme will (ere long) enſue.

Who, can behold the ſpirit of contention

Still active; and, all overtures of Peace

Retarded ſtill; or, poyſoned with diſſention,

Yet not bewaile our miſeries increaſe?

p. 7Or, who laments not? that may feare he carries

Within his loynes, the ſeed of Generations,

That may be bred for Romiſh-Janiſaries:

And, nurſed up in their abhominations?

For, though GOD may prevent what we may dread,

(And will perhaps) yet none ſhould ſenſleſſe grow

Of that wherewith our Land is over-ſpread;

Nor of thoſe Plagues, which theſe may bring us to:

But, rather, labour for, by ſighes, and teares

A publike Freedom from our private Feares.

For, who now dreads not, that upon this Age,

Worſe Plagnes are coming, then as yet, we view?

And, that the things we ſuffer, do preſage

Far greater miſchieves, will on thoſe enſue?

Loe, that great Feſtivall, which by this Nation,

Was ev'ry yeare obſerv'd, upon this week,

With ſuch magnificent ſolemnization,

That through the world, there hath not been the like:

That Feſtivall, which memoriz'd the birth

Of our great Paſtor, and (for no ſmall while)

Did fill each Temple, and each houſe with mirth,

Through ev'ry Shire, and Village, of this Iſle:

That Feaſt into a Faſt, our ſins now turn;

And, where we have triumphed, we now mourn.

The Feaſt of Aſhuerus, was to this

A petty banquet (if conſidered

In ev'ry circumſtance) though great was his,

And many people for a long time fed.

The Jewiſh Paſſover, which did ſurpaſſe

The moſt for ſome reſpects; in all of them,

By out great Feſtivall, exceeded was,

As well in Plenties, as in Place, and Time.

For, therein, all Proviſions did abound:

It was throughout all places, too, extended;

With ſome, it ent'rance in November, found;

And not till February, fully ended;

p. 8But, univerſally, twelve dayes, at leaſt,

Throughout the Land, it was a yearly Feaſt,

That Feſtivall, (which till it was polluted

With Bacchanalian Rites, and Superſtition,

A pious Obſervation was reputed)

Is now exploded, as a vaine Tradition.

Our Triumph-day, by Providence, is come

To be the day of our humiliations.

The Glorie, now, is quite departed from

This Kingdome, for our great abominations.

The pleaſant things, in which we were delighted,

Are took away. The coſtly trimmings, which

To Superſtition, Ignorance invited,

And which began to cozen, and bewitch,

Are broken down; Our brave rich-Robes are gone,

And, all of us, have Mourning-Garments on.

For our abuſe of them, GOD, takes away

The chiefe of our Melodious-Inſtruments;

And, they who heretofore did ſing and play,

Now, ſadly ſigh; or, howle forth diſcontents.

Our Lutes and Violls, (which were wont to ſound

Eare-charming ſtraines) are broke and throwne aſide:

Or, by the noyſe of Drums and Cannons drown'd,

In whoſe loud thundrings, terrour doth reſide.

The Peace, which we ſuppoſed everlaſting,

Is fled away: Our Iubilees are ended:

Our Horne of plenty, ev'ry day is waſting,

Our Foes are ſtrong, and we are ill befriended:

Our fruitleſſe hopes, have utterly undone us;

The things we feared, are now come upon us.

Our many great and unrepented crimes,

The Plagues that Sin hath multiplied here;

The wilfulneſſe and madneſſe of the times,

So repreſented to my fancie were,

That, through this Iſland, I (me thought) could ſee

No Worke ſecur'd from being overthrown;

p. 9No act, or counſell, from confuſion free;

No place, that was not metamorphos'd grown:

No man, almoſt, that had not chang'd his mind;

No principle, that was not call'd in doubt;

No courſe, in which we might a ſafetie find;

No vertue, in all trials, holding out;

Nor any hope of being freed from

Our preſent evils, for the time to come.

That Cloud of Plagues, which fill'd in Embleme-Wiſe,

The Title-page, of my REMEMBRANCER,

(To ſet before this heedleſſe Nations eyes,

A glimpſe of Judgments, then, approaching near)

That horrid-cloud, through all theſe Iles diſperſt,

Me-thought I view'd; and ſhowring on theſe Lands,

The black effects, which I long ſince rehearſt;

And, all the Plagues attending GODS commands.

Not only Famine, Pestilence, and Sword,

With ſuch, as bring on outward Deſolations;

But, Plagues appeared alſo, more abhord

By thoſe, who cheriſh nobleſt expectations:

For, though theſe harmfull are, more hurt they do,

Which murther us in Soule, and Bodie too.

I ſaw ſo great, ſo many our Diſtractions,

Such Diſcords, riſing up between the Nations;

In ev'rie Shire, in ev'rie Towne ſuch Factions;

In ev'rie Perſon, ſuch diſſimulations:

Among the Wiſe, I found ſo little Reaſon;

So little goodneſſe, left among the Beſt;

In faireſt ſhewes of Truſt, ſuch reall Treaſon;

And ſo much Fraud, where Truth was moſt profeſt;

That, neither want, nor wealth; nor wit, nor Folly;

Nor Vice, nor Vertue; Love, nor Hatred, neither,

Nor ſanctified things, nor things unholy

Diſtinguiſht were; but, ſhuffled ſo together,

That, all things in this world, appear'd, me-thought,

Into a Soul-confounding Chaos, brought.

p. 10Which melancholy Apprehenſions rear'd

Such crotchets, and ſuch whimſies in my braines;

That, many ſights, and ſounds, I ſaw and heard,

Like thoſe which Feare begets, or Fancie faines:

Before me, as a ſhadow ſeem'd to paſſe,

Things preſent, paſt, and coming; till I ſaw

Quite out of ſight, all that which IS, or WAS,

And, to an end things Future, alſo, draw.

Strange ſounds and noyſes, heard I round about me,

Or, in me rather; ſuch as did begin

From thoſe which rumbled ev'rie day without me,

Before a troubled Fancie let them in:

Which, though to be uncertaine Sounds, we grant,

A Myſterie, not one of them doth want.

One while, me thought, Wolves, Foxes, Dogs, & Swine,

A greedy, craftie, curriſh, naſtie rabble,

Did howle, bark, ſnarle and grunt; and ſometime joyne

In conſort: Muſike moſt abominable!

Sometime, as when an Angrie Lyon roares,

Or, as when Thunder breaks out of a cloud,

Or, as when raging Billows teare the ſhoares,

I Voyces heard; ſo ſhrill, ſo deep, ſo loud.

I heard, me thought, the Voyce of Deſperation,

The crying Voyce of Sin, the Voyce of Bloud,

The Voyce of Death, and utter Deſolation;

The Voyce of Iudgement, from an angrie GOD,

And ev'ry Voyce, and ev'ry Cry and Sound,

In which amazement, dread, and death is found.

Which, had it ſounded to an Outward-eare,

(As, by my Vnderſtanding it was heard)

The noyſe, had made both dead and living, heare:

The Spheres to ſhake, and Earth, and Hell afeard:

The terrour of it, made my Soule to flie

Beyond the limits of corporeall things:

Sometimes deſcending, ſometimes mounting high,

To ſhun the din, which doubt and horrour brings.

p. 11But, whatſoever way her courſe ſhe ſtear'd,

Confuſed noyſe did ev'ry where abound;

Confuſed actions ev'ry where appear'd;

Which caus'd my ſtrong diſtempers to abound:

And, almoſt cureleſſe, made I my diſeaſe,

By asking of my heart, ſuch things a theſe.

Why is this World (a Scene of ſin and paine)

Fill'd full of ſhadows, which no ſubſtance have?

A place of time and labour ſpent in vaine?

And where we loſe our ſelves, a Toy to ſave?

From thence, where we nor ſmart, nor griefe did feele,

We through the womb come crawling weakly hither;

Then getting ſtrength, we ſcratch and fight a while;

And, through the grave, paſſe on, we know not whither.

If we purſue what nat'rally delights us,

And walk that courſe, which gives the fleſh content;

Our Conſcience, or ſome Powre-divine affrights us,

With inward feares, and threats of puniſhment:

And, if our ſelves we virtuouſly diſpoſe,

The World, and all without us, are our Foes.

Diſgracefull ſlanders, ev'ry where attend us,

Though none can, juſtly, any where accuſe us:

They, who are moſt obliged to befriend us,

When we expect beſt uſage, moſt abuſe us,

They, who to all enormities are prone,

And make no conſcience, of the fouleſt crimes,

(If they ſuſpect us guiltie but of One)

Miſ-judge us, as off-ſcourings of the Times.

While for their peace, our ſtudies we employ,

And ſpend our ſelves, to propagate their good;

They, labour our Well-doing, to deſtroy,

And ſtaine their murth'rous weapons, with our blood,

As if thoſe portions they regarded not,

Which were not torne, out of a brothers throat.

Since Kings, and Princes, were at firſt promoted,

Nor for their owne, but for the Peoples ſake,

p. 12Why, on their trappings, have all Ages doted?

How, did our Creatures, ſlaves of us, firſt make?

How grew man-kind ſo mad, to flatter them

Vp to that needleſſe height, of pomp, and powre,

Which makes their Arrogancies to contemne

Our Freedomes? and our Birth-rights to devoure?

How, are they ſtill ſo fool'd, as not to know

(By that which they have heard, and read, and ſee)

That, Tyrants alwayes have an overthrow,

When great'ſt their Hopes, and their Oppreſſions be?

And, juſtly, loſe their Honours, Crownes, and Lives,

By ſtruggling for unjuſt Prerogatives?

Since GOD, for MAN, at firſt, this world did frame,

(And made it principally for the ſake

Of thoſe who ſerve him and adore his Name)

Why, doth his Foe, poſſeſſion thereof take?

How comes it, that the Serpent, and his breed,

Lords Paramount through all Earths Kingdomes are?

And, that the promis'd and the bleſſed Seed,

Enjoyes of this vaſt Globe, ſo ſmall a ſhare?

Yea, ſince the Earth is GODS, and they are His,

To whom, by free donation, it was given:

Why, is their due infringed, as it is?

And, why are they from their poſſeſſions driven,

Scorn'd, injur'd, and abus'd, as abject things,

Where they ſhould honour'd be, as Lords and Kings?

Why is the choſen flock of Chriſt ſo few,

And, they ſo numerous, who them deſpite?

(The Pagan, the Mahumetan, the Iew,

The Papiſt, and the Boſome-Hypocrite.)

Since GOD made Man, for good, and not for ill,

(To be in him, and with him, ever bleſſed)

How did his Foe firſt captivate his Will?

How, of his Creature, is GOD diſpoſſeſſed?

How, is he glorified, while thoſe Fiends

Do perſecute, inſult, and domineere

p. 13In miſchieves? and in ruining his Friends,

Who ſaid, Their Lives and Deaths, to him are deare?

Since GOD is good, why, ſo prevaileth evill?

Since he's Almightie, how, ſo thrives the Devill?

Whilſt theſe Expoſtulations I purſu'd,

A BOOKE to me appeared, fairly writ;

In which, I ſatisfying anſwers view'd

To all the Queſtionings of Carnall-wit.

Wherewith, my Soule remained ſatisfide,

And drew her ſelfe from theſe wild Contemplations.

(Which, elſe perhaps, had carried her aſide

From better, and from ſafer meditations.)

Then, from all outward Noyſes, to be free,

Into my Selfe, I further did retire;

Ev'n to that Cloſet, which is call'd in me,

The INNER-MAN, to ſeek out my Deſire:

And, being there, enough I heard and ſaw,

To teach, to comfort, and to keep in awe.

For, then, my Heart, (which did before appeare

A little, narrow, lonely, darkſome Roome)

Was filled with a Light, that ſhin'd ſo cleare,

And made the ſame ſo viſible become;

That (looking inwardly) I ſaw diſtenſions

So boundleſſe, in their Width, their Depth, and Height,

That, weighing well a fleſhly Hearts dimenſions,

It might be thought an admirable ſight.

For, were you on that mountaine, or high cliffe,

Whence you might fartheſt round about you ſee,

(Suppoſe it were the famous Tenariffe)

The Proſpects, there, to thoſe that In-ward bee,

To me, no more to be compar'd, appeares

Than that within a Nut-ſhell, to the Sheares.

It ſhewes a Place (if Place we call it may)

Within the Concave of whoſe wondrous Orb,

The Eye of Contemplation may ſurvay

Sights, which no Bounds, or Shaddowes, do diſturb.

p. 14There, may be ſeene the meanes which doth diſcloſe,

Though not the Eſſence of Eternall-things,

So much at leaſt, as ev'ry notion ſhowes,

From whence, beleefe of their true Being ſprings.

There, may the Soule that hideous Downefall ſee,

Which leadeth to the brinck of Deſperation:

There, may that Entrance plainly viewed be,

Which guideth to a bleſſed Exaltation:

And, there, the Spirit, to our knowledge, brings

The Good and Ill, of all created things.

For, hitherto, I never heard of ought

In Heav'n, or Earth, but I perceiv'd it there:

Yea, many Novelties from thence are brought,

Which have no Being, any other where.

It is indeed, another WORLD within

The World without me; and I thither go,

When I to loath externall things begin,

And, doubtfull am, what in this World, to do.

I ſometime there have entertainments had,

Like thoſe which may in Paradiſe be found:

Sometime againe, 'tis like a Chaos made,

Wherein deluding Fancies do abound.

Sometime, the Light of Heav'n there ſeems to dwell,

And, other while, it is as dark as Hell.

Within our ſelves (as GOD vouchſafes his grace)

That Bliſſe, and that true happineſſe is found,

Which men ſeek after in that Time and Place,

Which have not much relation to this ROVND:

I being thither guided (by that Light

Which faileth none) there, found out an abode

Quite out of hearing, and beyond the ſight

Of thoſe diſtractions, which I ſaw abroad.

There, found I out, a Reſting place to hide me

From ſcorne of Fooles, and from the Strife of tongues:

From their deſpight, who ſlander and deride me;

From private miſchiefes, and from publike wrongs;

p. 15From all the menaces, my eares have heard;

From all the perils, which my heart h…th fear'd.

There, I with ſportive ſleightings, did peruſe

That, which their malice, who theſe times do flatter,

Have ſpewed forth againſt my blameleſſe Muſe,

In lumps of ſcurrill, baſe, and witleſſe matter:

And, am content to let the OVRS alone,

Though loud they ſnarle and bawle; becauſe I find

Thoſe Beaſts are by their Maſters ſeized on;

And, do but bark▪ according to their kind.

Though not their wit, their malice might, perhaps,

Deſerve a Rating; and, I could have flung them

A Bone, that would have broke, or gagg'd their chaps;

(Or, throwne the Wild-fires of my Brain among them)

But, they in vaine ſhall bark; in vaine they raile:

To ſcratch the Scabs, I ſcorne to foule my naile.

For, I, in that Retirement, ſeem'd no more

By ſuch decrepit-Malice, to be hurt,

Than is a well compacted Rockie-ſhore,

On which, the Billows caſt up Foame, and durt.

There, ſhewne I was, the high prerogatives,

(The priviledges) of my Second-birth;

And, from what noble Root, my Soule derives

Her Pedigree, though ſhe be cloath'd with earth.

And, could I ſtill (when I from Contemplation

Returne to Act) retaine in me that height

Of Spirit; and the reall eſtimation

Of that, wherein at thoſe times, I delight▪

I never more, an earthly hope ſhould cheriſh,

Or, prize the honours, of the Beaſts that periſh.

There, on a Throne, above the world I ſate,

Beholding, with diſdaine, Terreſtriall things;

The fruitleſſe love of Mortals, and their hate,

The Tyrannies of Subjects, and of Kings.

There, I beheld (without thoſe perturbations,

Which vexed me abroad) how Pride and Folly

p. 16Support each other, by their combinations,

In wicked projects, and in works unholy.

There, ſpi'd I, by what ſecret Links and Ties,

The curſed-Counſell which deludes the King,

And, that falſe-pack which in our boſome lies,

Their dark Deſignes together cloſely bring:

And why ſo many moneths in vain are ſpent,

Their treacheries and treaſons, to prevent.

There, can I ſit obſcur'd, and ſpie what ends

Are cloſely follow'd by the Politician;

Who, ſeemingly, the common-Cauſe befriends,

That he may ruine it, without ſuſpition.

There, I deſcrie, what avarice, what frauds,

What ſpight, and what hypocriſie doth lurk

In many, whom the publike-Voice applauds,

As faithfull men, in carrying on the Work.

Without diſtemper, there, I think upon

Their pride and envie, who had rather ſee

Three Kingdomes univerſally undone,

Then, wained from their wilfulneſſe to be:

Becauſe, I know, GODS Worke will be effected,

In ſpight of what their madneſſe hath projected.

There, without breach of Patience, I can heed,

How impudently ſome have ſought to ſeem

Of eminent deſert; who are indeed

More worthy of contempt, then of eſteem:

How quaintly other-ſome can miſchief do;

And then, by policie, and frauds contrive

To purchaſe thanks, and pay, and favour too,

For that, which, rather, ſhould a halter have.

Yea, there, without offence, I notice take

How zealouſly Malignants are befriended;

How ſleight account of their deſerts we make,

Who have, with life, and goods, the State defended:

And, with what confidence, we ſtill confide

On thoſe, that will be true to neither ſide.

p. 17There, likewiſe, without wrath, I view, and heare

How ſenſleſſe many, who are counted wiſe,

Both of advantages, and dangers are,

Which ev'ry day appear before our eyes.

How needleſſe good Advice, by ſome, is thought

Till 'tis too late; how, to prevent a Wound

They loſe a life; and, (to be thriftie thought)

How, they to ſave a groat, miſpend a pound.

How deſp'rately they ſomtime take a Fall,

To ſcape a Slip; how, other while, to ſave

Some Rotten-Members▪ they adventure all

Which we by Grace▪ or Natures Charters have.

All this, in my Retirements, I can ſee,

Yet, nothing vexeth, or aff…igheth me.

For, therewithall, ſuch meanes appear to ſhow

That both the good Endeavours of our Friends,

And all the Counterminings of the Foe,

Shall work out that, at laſt, which GOD intends:

And, that, if we contented can become

To beare our Burthens, but a little longer,

His Grace, will render them, leſſe troubleſome,

Or make us, to ſuſtaine them, daily ſtronger.

Wherewith well pleas'd, I totally reſign'd

My Will to his; And, by that Reſignation,

Delightfull Calmes within my heart did finde,

So freeing me, from former perturbation,

That, all within, and all without me, kept

Such ſilence, as if all the world had ſlept.

As at high Midnight in a Deſert Vale,

Or'e-hung and bordred by a Double-Hill.

On which there blowes not any whiſtling-gale,

Down which, there flowes not any murm'ring Rill,

Near which, nor Bird doth ſing, nor Beaſt doth play,

Through which, no Travailer doth ever paſſe;

By which, there growes no ruſling leafe or ſpray,

In which, no noiſe of Creature ever was;

p. 18Such ſeem'd that Calme, which, then, I did poſſeſſe,

(Or deeper, if it might a deeper be)

And, that the Silence, which I now expreſſe,

May not prove empty both to You, and Me,

In this Retreat, from ev'ry other noiſe,

As from a farre, to me there came a VOICE.

A VOICE there came; From whence, I will not ſay:

Judge yet, to whom I ſhall report the ſame;

For, if you mark the ſenſe, conceive you may

Aſwell as I, from whom and whence it came.

So ſtill a VOICE it was, that with mine Eare,

I heard it not; nor made it ſuch a noiſe

As that, which our corporeall ſence doth hear;

Nor was it an articulated VOICE:

But, ſuch a VOICE as when the Spirit brings

A Meſſage down from GOD; and, to the heart

Doth whiſper thoſe intelligible-things,

Which words do but imperfectly impart;

Or, ſuch a VOICE, as from GODS written Word,

The Genuine ſenſe well heeded, may afford.

And yet it ſpake ſo plainly, and did ſhew

Thoſe Informations which I gain'd thereby,

In ev'ry Circumſtance, to be ſo true,

That of no branch thereof, miſdoubt have I.

Thus, it began. Thou Off-ſpring of the earth,

Whom Providence deſigned, in this Nation

To have thy temp'rall Being; and thy Birth

In this D…gree, and in this Generation:

Suppoſe not, that, in any worth of thine

There could a merit, or a motive be,

Which might Eternall-Providence incline,

To caſt ſo gracious an aſpect on thee,

As to deſcend ſo low, as to thy heart,

The knowledge of his pleaſure, to impart▪

For, from thy Childhood, he thy thoughts hath ſeen,

Heard all thy words, obſerved all thy waies;

p. 19Can tell how vaine thy youthfull years have been,

And, how thou haſt defil'd thy elder-daies.

He knowes thy ſeeming vertues imperfections;

He ſaw what evill ſecretly thou didſt;

And▪ made thee likewiſe feel by due corrections,

That, he beheld what from the world thou hidſt.

The Folly, Fraud, and falſhood of thy heart;

The vices, and the vainneſſe of thy tongue;

How falſe to others and thy ſelfe thou art,

How ſlow to good, how ſwift in doing wrong,

He truly knowes; and, findes thee apt to do

No dutie, but what he compells thee to.

And, he obſerved (though thy guilt he ſmothers)

That, thou to whom he better things hath taught,

Art in thoſe Crimes as deeply di'd as others,

Who on this Iſle, theſe preſent Plagues have brought.

Obſerv'd he hath, how fondly thou haſt ſtriven

With Wordlings, in their luſts, to have a ſhare;

Although, to thee, experiments were given,

What empty, and pernitious things they are.

Yea, with ſome indignation he diſcerned

That, madly, thou didſt many times partake

In provocations, whereof thou hadſt warned

This Land (even thoſe thou vowedſt to forſake)

And, that, with greedineſſe thou haſt purſud'd,

Thoſe vanities that ought to be eſchew'd.

Although thy heart inform'd thee, long agoo

(By an indubitable information)

That, all the ſervices thou couldſt beſtow

VponUpon the Minions of this Generation,

Should nothing profit thee: Thou, neretheleſſe,

(Forgetting what was counſell'd, and reſolved)

Didſt fawne on ſome of them, in thy diſtreſſe;

And hadſt, no doubt, thereby thy ſelfe involved

Within thoſe Nets, which at their Boords are ſpred;

But, that, GOD did permit them to contemn

p. 20Thy honeſt Muſes: who a plot had laid,

Into thoſe vertues, to have flatter'd them,

Which they regard not: otherwiſe that Courſe

Which nothing better'd them, had made thee worſe.

When thou hadſt, in thy Poems, vice reproved,

He ſearch'd thy heart; and ſaw it was not, then,

Meere love to vertue, whereby thou wert moved;

Or, that thou hadſt leſſe guilt then other men.

Somtime, that fickle bubble, Reputation,

Sometime that hope which thy vaine Fancie gives thee;

Sometime, applauſes, ſometimes, indignation,

Into a juſt reproofe of ſinners drives thee.

Some other by-reſpects, oft wrought upon

Thy heart, to rouze up in thee an indeavour

In things, that ſeemed worthy to be done:

But, thy performances proceeded never

From that true love, and that ſincere affection

Which thou didſt owe to Him, and his perfection.

And, for theſe things, their mouths wide op'ned be,

Who ſeek to turn thy glory to thy ſhame:

Thoſe witleſſe Railers are let looſe on thee,

Whom, in thy Meaſures, thou didſt ſcorn to name.

For this, thou ſuffereſt by the ſharp deſpights

Of open-ſinners: and much more, by farre,

Through thoſe malicious, and proud Hypocrites,

Who kindled firſt, and ſtill foment this warre.

For this, thou (who for others couldſt eſpie

Conceal'd events) haſt oft ſo blinded been

In matters of thine own, that what thine eye

Seem'd fixed on, thy wit hath over-ſeen;

Till, to thy mind, they through thoſe meanes were brought,

By which each Foole, and ev'ry child is taught.

For this, wert thou deſervedly depriv'd

Of bleſſings, which thou els mightſt have enjoy'd:

And, for that cauſe, haſt worthily ſurviv'd,

To ſee thy hopes, with other mens, deſtroy'd.

p. 21For this, thou (with the firſt) haſt plundred bin;

For this, thou both by Friends and Foes art torn;

For this, where thou hadſt hopes, reſpects to win,

Inſtead of honour, thou reproach haſt born:

For this, thy beſt endeavours have been croſt,

By them, whoſe power could els no ſpite have done thee;

For this, thoſe paines, and thoſe deſignes are loſt,

Which otherwiſe had grea… advantage won thee;

And, but that whom GOD loves, he leaveth never,

For this, rejected thou hadſt been for ever.

Yet ſuch is his compaſſion, that his love

Still ſeeks to reingage thee by his graces;

Beholding thee with favour from above,

In wants, in ſuffrings, in all times and places.

According to thy truſt in him repoſed,

(When thy Remembrances did firſt appeare)

As with a wall of braſſe he thee incloſed,

From thoſe who at thy Muſe inraged were.

The Prelates and the Nobles, who conſpired

To ruine thee, and thereto did comply,

Obtain'd no power to act what they deſired,

Though open to their fury thou didſt lie;

Although ſome ſuffred, then, (for milder lines)

By Stygmatizings, Baniſhment, and Fines.

When thou wert graſped in that Dragons pawes,

Who ſought thy ſpoil; GOD, ſtrangely charm'd his rage:

He from devouring thee reſtrain'd his Jawes,

Even while he rav'd, and ſtorm'd at thy preſage,

Yea, whereas thou didſt imprecate on thoſe,

Who ſhould malitiouſly thy lines defame,

(And without penitence their Truth oppoſe)

A Publike Marke, to brand them for the ſame;

Ev'n ſo it came to paſſe: For, ſcarcely one

Of thoſe Oppreſſers are at this day free

From having thoſe juſt Cenſures undergone

By which, the publike-Foes, now marked be;

p. 22And, to the chief of them, this mark GOD gave,

That, He with ſhame, went headleſſe to his grave.

In all the changes of this toylſome life,

He kept thee with an honeſt Reputation.

He, was thy comfort ſtill, in times of griefe,

In dangers, he hath been thy preſervation.

He ſav'd thee from the furiouſt Peſtilence

That ever in this Clymate did appear;

And, hitherto, hath by his Providence,

Secur'd thee from the Sword, yet raging here.

Now, when they lack, who ſurfeted of late;

When Bread, with men more worthie, groweth ſcant,

(Yea, though the Foe hath ſpoiled thy eſtate)

He keepes thy family, from pinching want;

And makes thee hopefull, whatſoere betide,

That, he for thee and thine will ſtill provide.

Moreover, when thy patience was nigh tir'd;

When thy eſtate, the world did moſt deſpiſe;

GOD gave thee that which moſt thy heart deſir'd,

(And, of all things terreſtriall, moſt hath priz'd)

He, likewiſe, hath preſerv'd thee to behold

Thoſe things, in thine own life-time verifide,

Which ſeem'd as dreames, when firſt by thee fore-told;

Which fooles did ſleight, and wiſer men deride.

And, not thus only, was he pleas'd to do;

But, now, hath alſo call'd thee, to prepare

The Way of Peace, and, to reveale unto

Theſe Britiſh Iſles, what thoſe Conditions are,

Whereon, it is his pleaſure to return

That Bleſſing to them, for which, yet they mourne.

It is not for thy ſake, that, now, his eyes

He fixeth, not on perſons eminent;

Or, hath not choſen one more learn'd and wiſe,

By whom, this weighty Meſſage might be ſent:

But, rather, to abaſe and vex their pride

Who carnall Pompe, and outward ſhowes adore,

p. 23(Vouchſafing ſcarce to turn their eye aſide,

To heed the ſuits, or counſells of the poore)

And, that (to humble them) they may be faine

Perforce, to hear, and to accept from him,

(Whoſe guifts and perſon, moſt of them diſdaine)

The Way of Peace, which he ſhall offer them;

Or elſe, through pride, grow hardned in that ſin,

Which bringeth Deſolation faſter in.

This is the Courſe, which Providence hath took

When ſelfe-conceit, and ſin, befooleth Nations;

And Carnall policie, doth over-look

The lowly meanes, of timely preſervations.

Thus, that the Jewiſh-pride he down might bring,

When they the pompe of heatheniſh-Kings affected,

He made, one Seeking-Aſſes, their firſt King;

And, them unto a Shepheard, next, ſubjected.

When their proud Phariſees, and Prieſts, beleeved,

That He, who came the Kingdom to reſtore,

Should from their power and wiſdom have received

Chiefe aid thereto; he rais'd it by the poor.

From their formalities, his eyes he turn'd,

And choſe the meek-ones, whom their pride had ſcorn'd.

And, GOD thus dealeth ſtill, when he intends

To purge a People, and refine a State;

Making one motion, move to ſev'rall ends,

As it to ſundrie Objects may relate.

Who ſhould have thought, that ſaw a while ago

The Prelacie in pompe (advancing thorow

This potent Iſle) it ſhould be baffled ſo

In height of all it pride, at Edenborough?

Who could have then ſuppoſed, that a Stoole,

Flung by a ſillie woman, in her zeal,

(When policie did labour to befoole

Your brethren, and the Dragons wound to heale)

Should have, in thouſands, kindled ſuch a flame

Of zeale, as from that meane occaſion came?

p. 24Who would have thought the late deſpiſed Scot,

(A Nation, whom your elders diſ-eſteem'd,

A Nation, whom your Fathers loved not,

And, of whoſe friendſhip, careleſſe you have ſeem'd)

Should firſt have rouz'd, a paſſage to have broke

Through that Attempt; which, will (if unrepented

And wilfull ſins obſtruct not) breake that yoke

Which Hereſie and Tyranny invented?

Who would have been perſwaded, but erewhile,

The Scot ſhould faithfully for you have kept

Your nigh-loſt footing in the Iriſh Ile?

And, while the Flame into their borders crept,

Should, brother-like, contribute their chiefe powers,

To quench the Burnings, which your Towns devours?

Or, who would have beleeved (having heard

The ſcandals, and malignant jealouſies,

Wherewith ſome do their love, yet, miſ-reward)

That Scotland ſhould for Englands aid ariſe,

And in their marches through your fruitfull lands,

More conſcience make, than you your ſelves have ſhown,

Of laying violent, and griping hands,

On them, whoſe wounds and loſſes are your own?

But, GOD is pleas'd theſe things ſhould come to paſſe,

To humble and abaſe that high conceit,

Which falſly of your ſelves admitted was;

And, that both you and they might have a ſight

Of his great Providence, in ſo proceeding;

And, Good, and Bad, confeſſe it merits heeding.

For, by this courſe, he doth effect his will

Within them, by them, and upon them too.

Both Friends and Foes, all actions good or ill,

Promote the work which he intends to do.

They, who, long time, have wilfully perſiſted

In crooked paths, from which they call'd have bin,

And, in thoſe Calls, the Spirits Voyce reſiſted,

(Or careleſly proceeded in their ſin)

p. 25Shall (blind with malice, and obdur'd with pride)

Sleight all the counſels, tendred now by thee:

The Tenour of this VOICE, they ſhall deride,

And, madly, ſtubborne in their Courſes be,

Till on their heads, thoſe judgements down ſhall come,

Which are an unrepentant Sinners doome.

And, when with plagues deſerved they are ſtung,

(In ſtead of Penitence, or filiall awe)

As doth a Dog at whom a ſtone is flung,

So they ſhall ſnarle, and ſo the weapon gnaw.

Or, rather, as it was fore-told of thoſe,

For whom, GOD, his fifth Violl ſhould prepare,

The greater, ſtill, their feare or torment growes,

The leſſe to be reform'd will thoſe men care.

They (to the Throne and Kingdome of the BEAST

True Vaſſals being) will GODS name blaſpheme;

Or, elſe be ſtupified, at the leaſt,

When GOD with ſtripes, or counſells viſits them.

To theſe, this VOICE, will no good Omen ſing;

To theſe, no Peace, no Comfort, will it bring.

But, they who by their chaſtiſements for ſin,

Are humbled ſo, ſo ſchool'd, and made ſo meeke,

As to admit that true repentance in,

Which makes them gladly, Truth, and MercieMercy ſeeke,

Ev'n they ſhall from this VOICE, receive content;

And not diſdaine the Wine of conſolation,

Though in an earthen Veſſell it be ſent;

But, take it with a thankfull acceptation.

And, if of theſe, that number found ſhall be,

For which, three wicked Kingdomes may be ſpar'd,

You ſhall from Rulne, once againe be free;

To ſhow the World, that, what few now regard,

Prevents more miſchiefe, and more ſafetie brings,

Than potent Armies, Parlaments, and Kings.

For, Kings, and Parlaments, and Armies, too,

When crying ſins in any Realme abound,

p. 26Advantage not, ſo much as they undo;

As, by a late experience, you have found.

A King you had, who was, at firſt, conceiv'd,

To pitie, and to pietie enclin'd;

(Such, he was really of thee beleev'd)

Yet, of thoſe Vertues, now, ſmall ſignes you find.

The Cup and Fornications of the WHORE,

Do ſeeme to have bewitcht his royall breſt:

With bloudy ſins, his Realmes are flowed o're,

(Defil'd with crimes, that cannot be expreſt)

And, more in danger to be quite undone,

Than, ever ſince, a King firſt fill'd this Throne.

He takes a Courſe, which if purſu'd, will do him

More dammages than all his forraigne foes:

And all their malice could have brought unto him.

Yea, ſo improvident a path he goes,

As if by his Fore-fathers, or by Him,

Some ſin had been committed, which hath ſhaken

His verie Throne, defac'd his Diadem,

And, for which, Vengeance muſt ere long be taken.

For, though he knowes the peoples griefes and feares,

Though ſprawling in their bloud he ſees them lying;

Though he beholds the flames about their eares,

And, in their deaths, his honour daily dying?

Yet, ſeemes he nothing to heare, know, or ſee,

Which for your ſafety, or his own may be.

The Royall Pow'r, that ſhould the Realme have guarded,

Is to the ruine thereof, miſ-imploy'd;

The Perquiſites, allow'd to have rewarded

Deſerving-men, by Ruffians are enjoy'd.

The Dignities, ordain'd to have been placed

On them, whoſe deeds their nobleneſſe declar'd;

To Slaves are proſtituted; and diſgraced,

By being on Buffoones and Clownes conferr'd.

His Councell-Table was become a ſnare,

His Court, a Sanctuarie for Tranſgreſſors;

p. 27The Iudgement-Seats, were engines to prepare

Advantages, for Bribers and Oppreſſors:

The Soveraigne, from the Subject is eſtranged;

And Kingſhip into Tyranny, is changed.

But, though the King be partner in theſe crimes,

'Tis you, who have your ſelves, and him undone:

For, as Idolaters in former times,

Firſt, made carv'd Images, of Wood and Stone,

(Perhaps, but meerly for Commemoration

Of ſome deceaſed Worthy) and, at laſt,

Improv'd it into ſottiſh adoration;

So, Thoſe, on whom the Government was plac'd,

(By prudent Counſell) Baſe men, by degrees

So idolized, and with flatteries

So long, in ſervile manner, bow'd their knees

To their Self-will; that, firſt, to tyrannize

The peoples blockiſhneſſe, and baſeneſſe brought them:

Yea, how to be Oppreſſors, they firſt taught them.

And, when Kings ſaw, the peoples fooliſhneſſe

Did make themſelves beleeve, that their owne Creature

Had therein, an inherent awfulneſſe,

Advancing it above the humane nature;

They, quickly from that folly, and that feare,

Advantages aſſumed to improve

Their pow'rs: It made them greater to appeare;

And in a more Majeſtick Orb to move.

The ſlaviſh geſtures, and the ſervile phraſe

Long us'd in Court, did thereto ſo much add,

That, he who like a man, declares his cauſe,

Is judg'd unmannerly, or ſomwhat mad:

Nay, to that height the, Royall claime is brought,

That none, but Slaves, are now true Subjects thought.

A Parliament you have, which you obtained,

When you were moſt deſirous to have had it;

You, thereunto a priviledge have gained,

Which, now, more fixt than formerly, hath made it.

p. 28The Houſe of Peeres is of a party cleared,

Whom, leaning to your, Common-Foe you doubted;

Whoſe power you felt, whoſe policie you feared,

And, whom, long ſince, ſome gladly would have outed.

Yet had Corruption over-fill'd it ſo

With honour'd Titles, worne without deſerts;

And, with ſo many, raiſed from below,

To ſit on Princely Seats, with Slaviſh-hearts,

That, when your troubles well-nigh cur'd you thought,

Far greater miſchieves, were upon you brought.

Your Houſe of Commons, (though when firſt convented,

It fill'd you with a hopefull expectation)

Hath ev'ry way ſo truly repreſented,

The Common Conſtitution of this Nation;

That, little hitherto hath been effected

To mitigate your Feares, or ſettle Peace,

According to the iſſue you expected;

But, ev'ry day your ſorrowes more increaſe.

So great an inundation of confuſion

Is broken in upon you; that, in vaine

You hope or labour for a good concluſion,

Till GOD himſelfe make up the Breach againe;

And, you (with more ſincerity) confeſſe

Your Guilt, your Weakneſſe, and your Fooliſhneſſe.

Betwixt You, and your King, there is of late

A curſed Fire broke forth, whoſe raging flame

Each others ruine threatens, like to that

Which from Abimelech, and Shechem, came.

So damnable a Spirit of Contention

Is conjur'd up, that, his deſignes are brought

Paſt all thoſe remedies, and that prevention

Which by the wit of mortalls can be wrought.

So madly, you each other do oppoſe,

That ev'ry one conſults and acts in vaine:

What one reares up, another overthrowes;

What one deſtroyes, another builds again:

p. 29And nothing is the vulgar expectation

But ruine, if not utter Deſolation.

For, crying-ſins do gen'rally prevaile,

The Rules of Order, quite aſide are laid:

The prudence of the Counſellour doth faile;

The honeſteſt-Deſignes, are moſt gain-ſaid;

The Groſſeſt Falſhood, ſooneſt is believ'd;

His cauſe beſt ſpeedes, who aimes at baſeſt-ends,

The worſt-Tranſgreſſour, ſhall be ſoon'ſt repriev'd;

The verieſt Knave ſhall find the Lordlieſt friends:

And, when Foundations thus are overthrowne,

What can the Righteous do? what likely hope

Have Husbandmen, when all is over-growne

With Briars and Thornes, to reap a thriftie crop?

Or, what can by a Parliament be done,

Where all are with Corruption over-grown?

With Warlike Forces, too, now ſtrongly arm'd

You do appear; and Martiall men abound,

As though each Townſhip, Bee-hive-like had ſwarm'd,

And Horſe, and Armes, ſprung daily from the ground.

But, what have theſe availed, in regard

Of expectation? Nay, how multiplide

Are theſe afflictions, rather, (which you fear'd)

By their diſſenſions, inſolence, or pride?

Your Treaſures, Stocks, & Fields, they have nigh waſted,

Their avaritions fury to allay;

Yet, as if they had Pharoah's kine out-faſted,

So greedie, and ſo hungrie, ſtill are they,

That, all the plenties of your peacefull years,

Will hardly quench that vaſt deſire of theirs.

Want of ſincereneſſe in your chiefe Commanders,

Too much ambition, much reſpect of friends:

(Moſt men that hear this, know theſe are no ſlanders)

Fraud, Envie, Cowardice, or private-ends;

And, gen'rally defect of Diſcipline:

Or, (to be plaine) want of that honeſtie,

p. 30Which theſe Forth-breakings of the Wrath-divine

Hath, now, required in your Soulderie,

Have ſet licentiouſneſſe ſo much at large,

And made moſt Officers, preſume upon

Such looſneſſe; and ſo ſlackly to diſcharge

Their duties; that, you likely are to run,

By your owne Forces (as the matter goes)

Not much leſſe hazard, than by open Foes.

Your Common men, (this will diſparage none

Among you Martialiſts, that blameleſſe are)

Have not in miſdemeanours, been out-gone

By many, who the States oppoſers were.

They cheat, rob, lye, curſe, ſweare, blaſpheme and rore,

They equally oppreſſe both Friend, and Foe;

They plunder, ſcoffe, inſult, game, drink and whore,

And ev'rie day corrupt each other ſo;

That, if this plague continue but a while,

You and your King, ſo many Rogues will arme,

That, throughout ev'rie Townſhip of this Ile,

This curſe brood of Lice will crawle and ſwarme,

Till they have quite devoured thoſe that fed them;

And, pine in that ſtarv'd Body, which firſt bred them.

For, though the higheſt honours temporarie,

On Souldiers are conferred, whoſe true worth,

Whoſe vertues in employments militarie,

With an illuſtrious candor ſhineth forth:

Though they, who to defend their Countries cauſe,

Themſelves to death and dangers do expoſe,

(Obſerving duly, GODS and Natures Lawes,

Not only to their friends, but to their foes)

Though theſe, deſerve all honours; no expreſſion

Is full enough to make an illuſtration

Of their ignoble, and their baſe condition,

Who triumph in their Countries deſolation:

And, as the raskall ſort of Tinkers do,

Pretend to mend one hole, and then make two.

p. 31For, theſe foure yeares of Diſcord, have ſo changed,

The gentleneſſe, already, of this Nation;

And, men and women are fo far eſtranged,

From civill, to a barb'rous inclination:

They are ſo prone to mutinous diſorders,

So forward in all miſchievous projections,

So little mov'd with robberies or murthers,

And, ſo inſenſible of good Affections;

That, they whom you have arm'd for your defence,

Will ſhortly ruine you, unleſſe preventions

Be interpoſed by that Providence,

Which fruſtates diabolicall intentions:

And therefore, now, Conditions are propounded,

On which, a Reſtauration may be grounded.

Yea, now, when Med'cines (that moſt ſoveraigne were

At other times) have multiply'd diſeaſes:

When all your Policies quite routed are;

To intervene, a Timely-MercieMercy pleaſes.

Now, that your Armies, King, and Parliaments,

Which were your hopefulſt meanes of preſervation,

Are made, by Sin, imperfect Inſtruments,

And, leave theſe Iles almoſt in deſperation:

Thou, ſhalt once more, to diſ-reſpective men,

A Herald-extraordinarie be;

And, carrie them conditions, once agen,

Whereby they from theſe troubles may be free;

And, that thoſe Angels which now ſmite theſe Lands,

From Deſolation, may with-hold their hands.

Now, then, for Overtures of Peace provide;

Silence thy Trumpets, let thy Drums be ſtill;

Furle up thy Colours, lay Commands aſide,

Sheath up thy Sword, reſume againe thy Quill;

And, make thou ſuch an entrie on Record,

Of what thou intellectually doſt heare,

That, to theſe preſent Times, it may afford

A legible Expreſſe, of what they are:

p. 32That, thereby, meek men may have information,

What humble ſervice, and what ſacrifice

May beſt promove that reconciliation,

Which will conclude theſe bloudy Tragedies;

And, that it may, by working upon ſome,

A Bleſſing, unto all theſe Iſles, become.

To that intent, once more, thy ſelfe prepare,

To heare inraged Tyrants madly rave;

The envious to detract, the proud to jeer,

And Fooles to ſhew how little wit they have.

Prepare thy ſelfe, to ſuffer what diſgrace

The ſpight of ſecret malice hath begun;

And, all thoſe injuries, which, to thy face,

May, by an open enemy, be done.

And ſaulter not: but, plainly publiſh thou,

What is, and ſhall be ſpoken to thy heart;

That, if theſe will not, time to come may know,

By what good Spirit thou inſpired art:

And, that men may, unto GOD's praiſe, confeſſe,

That, He, in Juſtice, is not mercileſſe.

And be not ſway'd by any by-reſpect

To King, or People, Perſons, or Eſtates,

From uttering (to thy power) the full effect

Of whatſoever, now, this VOICE relates.

Nor be thou ſo preſumptuous, as to add

One ſyllable (beyond what ſhall be true)

Through feare; or, that ſome profit may be had;

Leſt thy vaine feares, and thy falſe hopes thou rue.

But, ſpeak what truth ſhall whiſper forth to thee,

In ſo impartiall, and ſo bold a ſtraine,

That, to their ſoules, it may a terrour be,

Who ſtill, in their impenitence remaine:

And, therewithall, thoſe conſolations bring,

Which make the meeke, and broken-hearted ſing.

Feare neither Peeres, nor Commons, Friends, nor Foes,

So long as thou thy duty ſhalt performe▪

p. 33Nor feare the threatnings or the frownes of thoſe,

Who, at thy publiſhing this VOICE may ſtorme,

For, of whatever they ſhall thee deprive,

Who, therewithall, are ſpitefully offended,

Thou for the ſame ſhalt ſeventie fold receive,

In life and death, by all good men befriended.

And, if by thy Detractors ought be ſpoke,

Which this thy warrantable dutie wrongs,

Their malice ſhall quite vaniſh into ſmoke,

And for the ſame, ten hundred thouſand tongues

Shall cenſure them, who now miſ-cenſure thee,

Ev'n while they are, and when they ſhall not bee.

The VOICE, here made a pauſe: For, though I had

Myſelfe, into myſelfe retir'd, as far,

As a Retreat could poſſibly be made,

From things, that Bars to Contemplation are;

Yet, thither carried I ſo much about me,

Relating to the Fleſh, which I have on me;

(And alſo to the World that is without me)

That ſhe, with violence, broke in upon me;

And came ſo over-joy'd with fruitleſſe newes

Of an approaching Treatie, and with hope

Of Peace thereby; that ſhe diſturb'd my Muſe,

And brought thoſe Revelations to a ſtop,

Of which, this Ile ſhall never heare againe,

Till ſhe hath prov'd all other meanes in vaine.

Your wits, yee Politicians therefore trie,

Yee Mightie, thereunto your Forces joyne,

And you, that with a Formall-pietie,

Or morall-facings, your projections line.

Purſue your waies of Peace, till you are gone

So far, that you no forwarder can get;

And find, that when your wilfull courſe is done,

You, like wild-Bulls, lie tumbling in a net:

For, then, perhaps (though but a Moufe it were,

That gnaw'd the ſnare) your pride would be content,

p. 34The meanes of your deliverance to heare,

By whomeſoere the Meſſage ſhall be ſent.

When that hour coms, the VOICE that ſpake before,

Will ſpeak again; and, then Ile tell you more.

Meane-while, I purpoſe to returne unto

Thoſe other under-takings, wherewithall

I am intruſted; or, thoſe works to do,

For which, the Common-danger, firſt may call.

And ſince I ought not wholly to neglect,

Their private wants, who on my care depend,

I will be bold, a little, to reſpect

My own Affaires, which few men, yet, befriend;

Leſt, e're I finiſh what I have begun,

I may incurre ſome ſudden detriment;

Or, elſe, by my Oppreſſors, be undone.

For, he that makes no conſcience to prevent

His private ruine, ſhall be ſeldom heard

In any publike matter, with regard.

LORD, by thy power (for, by thy power, alone,

Such Plagues are cur'd) recure us e're too late,

And, once again, in merciemercy, looke upon

This heart-ſick, languiſhing, and dying State.

Once more be reconcil'd: (Once more at leaſt)

To theſe diſtracted, theſe divided Lands,

Let that Preſerving-MercieMercy be expreſt,

On which, the ſafety of a Kingdome ſtands.

Abate thoſe Earth-quakes, which have made unſteady

The Pillars of this Church and Common-wealth;

Diſperſe thoſe Vapours, which imve made us giddie;

Purge out thoſe Humours, which impaire our health:

Support the Limbes, which muſt prevent our fall,

Cut off, thoſe Members, which may ruine all.

And, give me Courage, Wiſdome, Grace, and Pow'r,

So, to diſcerne thy Will; ſo, to expreſſe

What is inſpir'd; and in ſo good an houre,

As, that it may prepare the Way of Peace.

p. 35THOV, that, by Babes, and Sucklings, doſt reſtore

Decayed Strength; and, by diſpiſed things,

Advance thy Kingdom, and thy Glory, more

Then by the Councells, and the Pow'rs of Kings:

So, make this VOICE to ſpeak; ſo, make men heare;

That, both Times preſent, and the Times to come,

May love thy Mercies, and thy Judgements, feare,

Throughout theſe Iſlands, till the day of doome:

And, let this VOICE'S good effects be ſhowne

Moſt clear in Him, by whom, thou mak'ſt it known.