Clievelandi Vindiciæ, or, Clieveland's genuine poems, orations, epistles, &c. purged from the many false and spurious ones which had usurped his name, and from innumerable errours and corruptions in the true copies : to which are added many never printed before, with an account of the author's life.

The Hue and Cry after Sir John Presbyter.

WIth Hair in Character, and Lugs in Text, With a splay mouth, & a nose circumflext, With a set Ruff of Musket-bore, that wears Like Cartrages, or Linnen Bandileers Exhausted of their Sulphurous Contents In Pulpit Fire-works, which the Bombal vents; The Negative and Covenanting Oath, Like two Mustachoes issuing from his Mouh.

The Bush upon his Chin like a carv'd Story In a Box-knot, cut by the Directory; Madam's Confession hanging at his ear Wire-drawn through all the Questions, How and Where; Each Circumstance so in the hearing felt, That when his ears are cropp'd he'l count them gelt. The Weeping Cassock scar'd into a Jump, A sign the Presbyter's worn to the stump; The Presbyter, though charm'd against Mischance With the Divine Right of an Ordinance; If you meet any that do thus attire 'em, Stop them they are the Tribe of Adoniram. What zealous Phrenzy did the Senate seize, That tare the Rotchet to such rags as these? Episcopacy minc'd; Reforming Tweed Hath sent us Runts even of her Churches breed▪ Lay interlining Clergy, a Device That's Nickname to the Stuff call'd Lops and Lice. The Beast at wrong end branded, you may trace The Devil's footsteps in his cloven face. A face of several Parishes and sorts, Like to Serjeant shav'd at Inns of Court. What mean the Elders else, those Kirk Dragoons, Made up of Ears and Ruffs like Ducatoons. That Hierarchy of Handicrafts begun; Those New Exchange-men of Religion.

Sure they'r the Antick heads which plac'd without The Church, do gape and disembogue a Spout: Like them above the Commons House t' have been So long without, now both are gotten in. Then what imperious in the Bishop sounds The same the Scotch Executor rebounds: This stating Prelacy the Classick Rout That speak it often, e'r it spake it out. So by an Abbey's Skeleton of late I heard an Eccho supererogate Through Imperfection, and the Voyce restore, As if she had the Hiccop o'r and o'r. Since they our mixt Diocesans combine Thus to ride double in their Discipline, That Paul's shall to the Consistory call A Dean and Chapter out of Weaver's Hall, Each at the Ordinance for to assist With the five Thumbs of his groat changing Fist. Down Dagon-Synod with thy Motley Ware, Whilst we are Champions for the Cowmon Prayer, (That Dove-like Embassy that wings our Sense To Heavens Gate in shape of Innocence) Pray for the Mitred Authors, and defie Those Demicastors of Divinity. For when Sir Iohn with Iack of all Trades joyns, His Finger's thicker than the Prelates Loyns