Rome rhym'd to death being a collection of choice poems, in two parts / written by the E. of R., Dr. Wild, and others of the best modern wits.

A Passionate SATYR upon a Devillish Great He-Whore that lives yonder at ROME.

A Pox on the Pope, with his damn'd bald Pate, What a stir hath this Toad made here of late; Such a Noise and a horrible Clamour Is here with this Whore, a Plague of God on her.

Must the Kingdom and State be at a loss, Leave their sweet Peace to lye under a Cross? Must Church and Church-men be expos'd to scorns, Tost up and down by a Beast with Ten Horns? Must Christians that know no more but one God, Worship Ten Thousand, or be scourg'd with a Rod? Must Beads, and a Cross, and a Relick from Ione, Make us fall down to Prayers right or wrong? Must Hobgoblin Mass, that's learn'd of Old-Nick, Complement God for the Well and the Sick? Must Water bless'd by a Conjuring Monk, Scoure away Sins from a Pockyfi'd Punk? Must Souls be pray'd out, the Devil hath got, At so much per Mass, else there they must rot? Must Sinners be sav'd by Old Sinning Gulls? I'll ne're beg your Pardon, those are damn'd Bulls. Must We, Canibal-like, eat up our God, Or else must We not in Heaven have aboad? Must Fire and Wood burn all that won't bow, Worship S. Doll, and the Devil knows who? Must Ignorance be our Guide to Glory, Then Heaven I'm sure is but an Old Story. Must all Men be blind that open their Eyes, That Priests may do what they please with their Wives•• Must killing of Kings, and Princes to boot Be Marks that the Pope is sound at the Root? Must a Conclave of Rogues, and Jesuit Priests, Perswade all the World to Worship the Beast? Must the Pope order all by Sea and by Land, Who must turn out, and who is to 〈◊〉〈◊〉

Must those be intrusted that swear and receive What e're you impose, that they may deceive? Must Iudas be saved that eat of the Sop? No, by the Mass, he deserved the Rope: Must such be employed at Sea and at Shore, That would subvert all to set up the Whore? Must those be good that designed to seem such? Who in Parliament time subscrib'd to the Church: Must We all be undone by a damn'd Popish Crew, Some that is about us, and some We ne're knew? Must the King and his Friends see and know this, And yet be advised that nothing's amiss? Must this be the Trap, then the Devil take it, Our Hogs We've brought to a blessed Market.