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BECAUSE you have thrown off your Prelate-Lord,

And with stiff vows, renounced his Liturgy,
To seize the widow'd whore Plurality,

From them whose sin ye envied, not abhorr’d,
Dare ye, for this, adjure the civil sword,

To force our consciences, that Christ set free ; And ride us with a classic hierarchy, Taught ye by mere A. S.* and Rutherford ?+ Men, whose life, learning, faith, and pure intent,

Would have been held in high esteem with Paul,

Must now be named and printed Heretics, By shallow Edwardsi and Scotch what d'ye call :// But we do hope to find out all your tricks, Your plots and packing, worse than those of Trent;

That so the Parliament May, with their wholesome and preventive shears, Clip your phylacteries, though balk your ears,

And succour our just fears, When they shall read this clearly in your charge, New Presbyter is but Old Priest, writ large.

* Adam Steuart, a Divine of the Church of Scotland.

+ Samuel Rutherford, one of the chief Commissioners of the Church of Scotland, and Professor of Divinity in the University of St. Andrew's.

| Thomas Edwards, minister, a pamphleteering opponent of Milton.

|| Perhaps flenderson, or Gillespie, Scotch divineg



What slender youth, bedew'd with liquid odours, Courts thee on roses, in some pleasant cave,

Pyrrha ? For whom bind’st thou

In wreaths thy golden hair,
Plain in thy neatness? O, how oft shall he
On faith and changed gods complain, and seas

Rough with black winds, and storms

Unwonted, shall admire !
Who now enjoys thee credulous, all gold,
Who, always vacant, always amiable,

Hopes thee, of flattering gales

Unmindful. Hapless they, (vow'd
To whom thou, untried, seem'st fair. Me, in my
Picture, the sacred wall declares to have hung

My dank and dropping weeds,
To the stern god of sea.

BRUTUS thus addresses Diana in the country

of LEOGECIA. Goddess of shades, and huntress, who at will Walk'st on the rolling spheres, and through the deep; On thy third reign, the earth, look now, and tell What land, what seat of rest, thou bidst me seek, What certain seat, where I may worship thee For aye, with temples vow'd and virgin quires. To whom, sleeping before the altar, Diana answers

in a vision the same night. Brutus, far to the west, in th ocean wide, Beyond the realm of Gaul, a land there lies, Seagirt it lies, where giants dwelt of old ;

Hist. Brit. i. xi. “ Diva potens nemorum," &c.

Now void, it fits thy people : thither bend
Thy course; there shalt thou find a lasting seat ;
There to thy sons another Troy shall rise,
And kings be born of thee, whose dreadful might
Shall awe the world, and conquer nations bold.


Ah, Constantine, of how much ill was cause,
Not thy conversion, but those rich domains
That the first wealthy pope received of thee.


Founded in chaste and humble poverty,
'Gainst them that rais'd thee dost thou lift thy hom,
Impudent whore, where hast thou plac'd thy hope?
In thy adulterers, or thy ill-got wealth?
Another Constantine comes not in haste.

Then pass’d he to a flowery mountain green,
Which once smelt sweet, now stinks as odiously :
This was the gift, if you the truth will have,
That Constantine to good Sylvester gave.


Wuom do we count a good man? Whom but he
Who keeps the laws and statutes of the senate,
Who judges in great suits and controversies,
Whose witness and opinion wins the cause ?
But his own house, and the whole neighbourhood,
Sees his foul inside through his whited skin.


This is true liberty, when freeborn men,
Having t' advise the public, may speak free;
Which he who can, and will, deserves high praise.
Who neither can, nor will, may hold his peace;
What can be juster in a state than this?

-Laughing, to teach the truth,
What hinders ? As some teachers give to boys
Junkets and knacks, that they may learn apace


Joking decides great things, Stronger and better oft than earnest can,


'Tis you

that say it, not I. You do the deeds, And your ungodly deeds find me the words


There can be slain
No sacrifice to God more acceptable,
Than an unjust and wicked king.

Done in verse,

Blessed is the man who hath not walk'd astray
In counsel of the wicked, and in the way
Of sinners hath not stood, and in the seat
Of scorners hath not sat.

But in the great
Jehovah's law is ever his delight,
And in his law he studies day and night.
He shall be as a tree which planted grows
By watery streams, and in his season knows
To yield his fruit, and his leaf shall not fall,
And what he takes in hand shall prosper all.
Not so the wicked, but as chaff which fann'd
The wind drives, so the wicked shall not stand
In judgment, or abide their trial then,
Nor sinners in the assembly of just men.
For the Lord knows th’ upright way of the just
And the way of bad nien to ruin must.


Done Aug. 8, 1653. Terzetti.
Why do the Gentiles tumult, and the Nations

Muse a vain thing, the kings of the earth upstand

With power, and princes in their congregations Lay deep their plots together through each land

Against the Lord and his Messiah dear?

Let us break off, say they, by strength of hand Their bonds, and cast from us, no more to wear,

Their twisted cords: He who in Heaven doth dwell

Shall laugh, the Lord shall scoff them, then severe Speak to them in his wrath, and in his fell

And fierce ire trouble them ; but I, saith he,

Anointed have my King (though ye rebel)
On Sion my holy hill. A firm decree

I will declare; The Lord to me hath said
Thou art my Son, I have begotten thee

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Aug. 9,

This day; ask of me, and the grant is made;

As thy possession I on thee bestow

The Heathen, and, as thy conquest to be sway'd Earth's utmost bounds: them shalt thou bring full

With iron sceptre bruis’d, and them disperse (low

Like to a potter's vessel shiver'd so.
And now be wise at length ye kings averse,

Be taught ye judges of the earth; with fear

Jehovah serve, and let your joy converse
With trembling; kiss the Son lest he appear

In anger and ye perish in the way,

If once his wrath take fire like fuel sere.
Happy all those who have him in their stay.

When he fled from Absalom.
LORD, how many are my foes !

How many those
That in arms against me rise !

Many are they
That of my life distrustfully thus say,
No help for him in Goa there lies.
But thou Lord art my shield, my glory,

Thee through my story,
Th' exalter of my head I count;

Aloud I cried
Unto Jehovah, he full soon replied
And heard me from his holy mount.
I lay and slept, I wak'd again,

For my sustain
Was the Lord. Of many millions

The populous rout
I fear not, though encamping round about
They pitch against me their pavilions.
Rise, Lord, save me my God, for thou

Hast smote ere now
On the cheek-bone all my foes,

Of men abhorr'd
Hast broke the teeth. This help was from the Lord;
Thy blessing on thy people flows.

PSALM IV. Aug. 10, 1653
ANSWER me when I call,
God of my righteousness,
In straits and in distress,

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