Poems and translations with the Sophy / written by the Honourable Sir John Denham, Knight of the Bath.

A Speech against Peace at the close Committee.

To the Tune of, I went from England.

BUt will you now to Peace incline, And languish in the main design, And leave us in the lurch? I would not Monarchy destroy, But only as the way to enjoy The ruine of the Church.

Is not the Bishops Bill deny'd, And we still threatned to be try'd? You see the Kings embraces. Those Councels he approv'd before: Nor doth he promise, which is more, That we shall have their Places.

Did I for this bring in the Scot? (For 'tis no Secret now) the Plot Was Sayes and mine together: Did I for this return again, And spend a Winter there in vain, Once more to invite them hither?

Though more our Money than our Cause Their Brotherly assistance draws, My labour was not lost. At my return I brought you thence Necessity, their strong Pretence, And these shall quit the cost.

Did I for this my County bring To help their Knight against their King, And raise the first Sedition? Though I the business did decline, Yet I contriv'd the whole Design, And sent them their Petition.

So many nights spent in the City In that invisible Committee; The Wheel that governs all. From thence the Change in Church and State, And all the Mischiefs bear the date From Haberdashers Hall.

Did we force Ireland to despair, Upon the King to cast the War, To make the world abhor him: Because the Rebells us'd his Name, Though we our selves can do the same, While both alike were for him?

Then the same fire we kindled here With that was given to quench it there, And wisely lost that Nation: To do as crafty Beggars use, To maim themselves thereby to abuse The simple mans compassion.

Have I so often past between Windsor and Westminster unseen, And did my self divide: To keep his Excellence in awe, And give the Parliament the Law, For they knew none beside?

Did I for this take pains to teach Our zealous Ignorants to Preach, And did their Lungs inspire, Gave them their Text, shew'd them their Parts, And taught them all their little Arts, To fling abroad the Fire?

Sometimes to beg, sometimes to threaten, And say the Cavaliers are beaten, To stroke the Peoples ears; Then streight when Victory grows cheap, And will no more advance the heap, To raise the price of Fears.

And now the Book's and now the Bells, And now our Act the Preachers tells, To edifie the People; All our Divinity is News, And we have made of equal use The Pulpit and the Steeple.

And shall we kindle all this Flame Only to put it out again, And must we now give o're, And only end where we begun? In vain this Mischief we have done, If we can do no more.

If men in Peace can have their right, Where's the necessity to fight, That breaks both Law, the Oath? They'l say they fight not for the Cause, Nor to defend the King and Laws, But as against them both.

Either the cause at first was ill, Or being good it is so still; And thence they will infer, That either now, or at the first They were deceiv'd; or which is worst, That we our selves may erre.

But Plague and Famine will come in, For they and we are near of kin, And cannot go asunder: But while the wicked starve, indeed The Saints have ready at their need Gods Providence and Plunder.

Princes we are if we prevail, And Gallant Villains if we fail, When to our Fame 'tis told; It will not be our least of praise, Sin' a new State we could not raise▪ To have destroy'd the old.

Then let us stay and fight, and vote, Till London is not worth a Groat; Oh 'tis a patient Beast! When we have gall'd and tyr'd the Mule, And can no longer have the rule, We'le have the spoyl at least.