The Commons Exultation, Anagrammaticall to the PARLIAMENT, Anagram PRAI LAMENT.
PRay ye that awe the Land, in Moses Chaire,
And you (the Church) in Aarons, gainst that Prayer,
An Ancient Parliament made Common; more
Hate Common Prayer then a common Whore;
Especially reject the Pater Noster
And Churches Liturgie: for if you foster
Such Heavenly Charmes, take heed you'l pray for Kings,
Queenes, Princes, Prelates, such are deadly things:
So you your Christian Faith might re-admit,
Turne honest men regaine your long-lost Wit,
And so your fear'd black Consciences would vex ye,
Which are benum'd now, and not yet perplex ye.
As God commands, t'obey the Higher Powers,
You will be highest, and all Power is yours,
And you know, if the King should have his due,
And you have yours, what would become of you?
'Twould make all good men glad, and bad men grieve,
And Gregories gaines would make him fine for Shrieve;
His Foot-cloth, Saddle, and his golden Chaine,
The Knave would be a fine proud Knave in Graine.
For just power will o're-top your Lording state,
And curbe (your Pride Superlative) your hate.
Pray for the Spirit of Stupid Ignorance,
Which may to sacred Pulpits fooles aduance;
For Academicks see, (with Argos Eyes)
Th'are for your Sects and doings, too quick Spies:
There's two wayes left you, do as, you began,
Love nor regard, or feare nor God or Man,
Sit in your Thrones, ne're to your Homes go back,
To see your handy-worke, your Countries wrack,
Y'are safe and whole, here gaine the golden Fleeces,
But in the Countrey you'd be torne in peices;
Though Home be Homely, yet 'tis full of feare,
If you go home you'le find the Devill is there.
Therefore (as yet) pray breake not up your Schooles,
Clubs, Flailes, Pitchforkes, are but churlish Tooles,
And where you thinke the fresh Ayre will refresh ye,
The oppressed Countrey Corridons will thresh ye.
The wronged Yeomanrie are stout and tough,
And they are not yet pol'd halfe bare enough,
They still have left some Horses, Sheepe and Swine,
Some little store of Money, Calves, and Kine;
You have but taken part from them as yet,
You must take all, or leave them ne're a whit:
The onely way their courages to quaile,
Is, strip 'em all, as naked as my Nayle,
Take from them all, whereby they may subsist,
And then they'le not be able to resist:
Thus may you Rule and Raigne, and sit secure,
You and your Heires, for ever to endure.
Sit still, Returne not to your Habitations,
They'le call you to account for Sequestrations,
For plunderings, for free-quarterings, and oppressions,
And all your Tyraunies, (beyond expressions)
You'le be examin'd what good you have done?
And you (most humbly) must say, truely none;
They'le aske you then, what evills ye have committed?
You'le answer, We no Mischiefe have omitted;
Then they'le demand, How fares the King, I pray?
You'le say, he beares the Name, and we the sway.
They'le aske, of true Religion what's become?
And you must answer, you have strucke her dumbe:
Then theyle require, What did you with the Church?
And you'le Reply, ye'ave left her in the lurch:
Ye'ave brought Confusion to our Albion.
And made King Charles a King of Babylon:
Nothing of Englands left, but foule defame,
And Babell-Building of old Amsterdam:
Famous for this, that sinne, or any thing
May be endured, but one Church, one King.
The Arke once Landed at our happy Haven.
We have refus'd the Dove, and tooke the Raven,
Whose greedy Appetite, and dismall croaking,
Hath bin Lawes, Churches, and Religions choaking:
Of all these crimes the Country will accuse you,
And find you Guilty, and most kindly use you.
These questions will be ask'd, and more then these,
Therefore sit still if you love Wealth and Ease.
The cryes and curses of the poore are fierce,
And to Gods terrible Tribunall pierce:
Therefore (good) Parliament (l) Prai Lament,
Lament, repent, just Vengeance to prevent:
Pray till your lasting Lungs and Breath is spent
The rest of time melt into teares, lament.
But can you weepe your selves into a stood,
That could not weepe to see us weepe in blood?
Your hearts were rather tickl'd at the p••ey,
VVhen as you traffiqu'd over our Red Sea:
If ere you weepe, perhaps your cheekes you'le wet,
As Ahab did, who did but counterfet;
Or like the weeping of the Crocodile,
That murthers people as they passe by Nyle;
Or if your teares are reall, you must borrow
From Esau tardy teares of needlesse sorrow:
For why (like him) you do repent too late,
To move our wornged Soules you've fill'd with hate.
But if (like Peter) you could weepe most bitter
True teares of Penitence, they would be sweeter
T'your selves, the widowes and the fatherlesse,
(Your late petitioners without redresse.)
I would you knew how Country, Court, and City,
Laugh at your dangers, slight you without pitty,
Curses flye up, that you may be confounded
To that black pit, whose bottome ne're was sounded.
But yet (though not to Man) to God still weepe,
For in his Bottle he true teares doth keepe:
Pay true repentance up, for your Excise,
To God for Sinne, Hee'le wipe teares from your eyes,