A prophecy of the white king, and dreadfull dead-man explaned to which is added the prophecie of Sibylla Tibvrtina and prediction of Iohn Kepler, all of especiall concernment for these times
Lilly, William, 1602-1681., Kepler, Johannes, 1571-1630.
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A Prophecie found in a wall, in a Carthu∣sian house in the County of Sommerset, Anno Dom. 1548. by a Mason, a Copy whereof was taken by Richard Mogg. 1623.

FRom Caesar did the Tell beginne,
600. yeare ere Will did winne,
66. hoyst Norman sayle,
600. more makes up the tale.
Remember M. D. C. L. X.
V. and I, then neare a Rex;
Marke the holy written beast,
666. it beast,
Daniels, Iohn, and Maydens sonne,
Vast it was, and vast is done;
Accurst in E Normans heire,
Englands Crowne shall never weare▪
The Northerne Pole, the Adams I
Albions Gruff shall smart per dy,
VVhen Hempe is growne, and downe gone
Three Kings shall raigne in Albion,
Alien by byrth, Alien by name
Shall bring this Isle to mickle blame,
H Roses, I King, the head H gone
Since ☉ begunne.
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The Siluers dare, and leaze so fast,
Naked gang and pincht at last,
From Hill he came into a Dale,
Little Mack, and Mick growne small.
The Redshank and the Blue-spun hood
Shall chat of much, and do no good;
Then chuse a Pape, who best chuse can,
More then a K: more then a Man.
His name shall beare the written spell,
So holy writ the Kirke doth tell —
North and South take East and West
The Alder bird dead in the nest.
Then speake thy minde, or hold thy chat,
A daggers better then a hatt.
Poore and bare by Lyching much,
A Kings heart, a beggars purse,
An Eagles wing, a Lions tayle,
Micke is day, without a vaile.
F. E. C. I. I have said and done,
End you must where I begunne.
Albions worst is well neare runne,
The loud Pype stopt; the Fife and Drumme,
Each man speakes, but nought is done.
Haunce Lurken Dirt Mine Here,
Spanish, English, Remish feare,
Two Lasses shall doe more
Then all an Army whilkt before,
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Couch you close, Cover La ffue
Wheresoever thou shalt gang,
Waile and wring thy Clomels for paine,
A woman Child, an Ape, a Beare
Hath topsy turn'd all the spheare;
Coine and Gold thou hadst store,
Pen thy Cowes, and Tine the dore,
Saxson, Brittish, Danish wort
Every subject to Mick Warpe.
Knights and Knaves all in a stall,
Arise Wall Roy, revenge doth call.
Accurst of God, Kirke his sinne▪
Did first this dolefull game beginne;
Looke where thou wilt farre and wide
Fire burnes on every side;
More I ken, but quake to tell,
I ken too much in kenning Hell.
From 60. till the beast be dead,
The Heavens warme with fiery red,
120 to Amen 166/106 to make an end,
6. a Clock and 6. deales past
Then 6. dayes the Sabbath last.
If thou wilt ken what I wot,
Heare thou may'st, but read me not,
This mick the Kirk hath got
To bring them to their blessed lot.