THE COMPLAINT OF PAVLES, TO ALL CHRISTIAN SOVLES:

OR an humble Supplication,
To our good King and Nation,
For Her newe Reparation.

Written by HENRIE FARLEY.

Amore, Veritate, & Reuerentia.

Printed by CANTRELL LEGGE. 1616.

The Booke to the Reader.

If you will iudge me, (my good friend)
First reade me thorough to the ende,
If all be well, you may commend me,
If ought amisse, I pray amend me.
For euery one should gladly doe,
The same he would be done vnto.

I Poore Paules deiected and distressed, yet beeing in the best prospect, and taller then all my fellowes) doe see, or at least may see, (if my windowes be eyes) many stately monuments, houses, and other things builded, and done within these fewe yeeres, some for Honour, some for profit, some for Beautie, some for pleasure, some for health and recreati­on, some for Royall entertainments and sports, and many for charitable vses:

And I haue seene the Globe burnt, and quickly made a Phoenix.

Q. But who sees me? A. Who sees thee not?

Tunc etiam spero,
And hope will still, though still I haue the worst;
For wer't not for some hope, my Heart would burst.

Before the Complaint is added a Prologue, and after the same an Epi­logue, and a Dreame.

1. THe Prologue, is a charge giuen by the Church to this Booke; namely, that it should disperse it selfe to the Court, Clergie, Cities, and Countries, to search and finde out all such as are Royally, Graciously, Honourably, Reli­giously, Vertuously, Charitably, and Bountifully min­ded towards the repaire thereof, To the ende (that Their lights shining in such a glorious worke of Pietie) may thereby illu­minate, and inflame the hearts of all others, to be willing Bene­factors, Contributors, and Coadiutors to the same.

2. The Epilogue discouereth a Iew-rie of Knights of the Post; that in this, and in all other Pious Designes, will euer sweare to the contrarie.

3. The Dreame is a Vision which the Author saw in his sleepe, shewing the manner and fashion, how (as he thought) the said Church and steeple were beautified and repaired.

THE PROLOGVE.

And first to the Court.

FLIE little Booke, from East vnto the West,
From North to South, or where thou likest best,
Search Brittaine out, in all Her better parts,
Amongst the Noblest, and the Worthiest hearts.
But first (as dutie bindeth) take thy wing,
And flie to Faiths Defender, IAMES my King;
Beseech His Highnesse, (by all meanes that bee)
That (as S. Albons) He would pittie mee,
And so to order, by His Great command,
That I may be repaired out of hand;
Else I shall weare away, and cracke, and fall,
To my great sorrow, and my louers all.
OH tell His Maiestie in humble sort,
That thou art come vnto His Royall Court
To begge a Boon, that neuer beg'd before,
Which (if Hee graunt) thou neuer shalt begge more;
And be thou sure before from Him thou part,
Thou get Compassion from His Kingly Heart;
Like as the woman was to Christ, so be
Importunate vnto his Maiestie.
Doe not thou looke, like one, that will bee daunted,
But pray, and speake, vntill my suite be graunted;
And say, Although I ragged am, and torne,
As if I were, to all the rest a scorne;
Yet Christendome thr'oughout can truely tell,
That I for Name and Fame doe beare the Bell;
And ner'thelesse that I am call'd poore Paules,
I feed (with th' choicest delicates) more Soules,
Then any Three (the greatest Churches) doe,
In England, and in all Great Brittaine too.
And when thou hast thus labour'd Him a while,
Marke, if His Gracious Countenance doe smile:
For if it doe, be sure Hee doth affect thee,
And with His Royall fauour will protect thee;
And by His sacred wisedome, will deuise
A speedy way for my Re-edifice.
So I shall haue iust cause [...] song [...] sing,
No grace in th'earth to that of God and King;
And shortly will be sung by euery infant,
That good King IAMES made me againe Triumphant.
THEN goe to Her, whose Princely vertues shine
As if Shee were a Goddesse most Diuine,
(I meane my Gracious Queene and Lady ANNE,
Best Queene of Women, for Best King of Man:)
Beseech that Peereles Paragon of Time,
That Shee will daigne t'accept thy honest Rime;
The rather, in respect Her Royall Brother,
Was the Prime cause thereof, not any other,
Who beeing (in the sight of many people)
With other famous Princes on my steeple,
My Writer did conceit, His Highnesse spake
Some charitable motion for my sake,
That it were charges well bestowed and spent,
To doe me Grace with some faire Ornament;
As with a Crowne, a Spire, or some good thing,
More fitter for to entertaine a King.
And 'cause Hee there did print His royall foote,
Poore man suppo'd Hee sign'd and seald vnto't:
And say I what I can, yet is his Creed,
His Highnesse did deliuer't as His Deed;
In which conceit (though oftentimes restrain'd)
Hee could not rest, till thus I had complain'd.
OH tell Her Highnesse that Her Ladyes faire,
Would giue good gifts to see my newe repaire,
And that, if first Her Maiestie beginne,
All Worthies of her sexe will then come in,
And bring their Angels, Nobles, and their Crownes,
From Cities, Countries, Villages, and Townes;
For Women neuer were of bettet spirits,
To doe the workes that Fame and honour merits,
Then now they are, God graunt them be so still,
Patternes of good, and haters of all ill.
AND when thou hast appear'd to King and Queene,
Vnto their Princely Sonne likewise be seene,
The high and mightie CHARLES, our ioy and treasure,
Whom all true subiects loue in boundlesse measure.
Say to this Worthy, Welbeloued Prince,
It was my chance some fiftie fiue yeares since,
To loose my toppe, a stately princely spire,
By lightening, which set the same on fire;
And burnt it downe, (a wonderfull mishap,)
Leauing me bare and bald without a cappe,
Like an old shippe without her masts and sayles,
Hauing no Beautie, but poore rotten rayles.
Pray tell this Prince what honour it will bee
Vnto His Highnesse if Hee speake for me;
And what a Glory, Name, and Fame, and praise,
Vnto Great Brittaine it will euer raise,
If this my humble suit be well respected,
That so with speede the worke may be effected.
SO from the Prince (as fast as thou art able,)
Make hast to goe vnto the Counsell Table,
Shewe wherefore thou do'st come, and make a motion,
Vnto their Honours there for their Deuotion;
That They'le be pleas'd to ioyne with Maiestie,
In such a worke of Christian Pietie;
I knowe Their Wisedomes and Their Worths are such,
They will in this no gift nor counsell grutch.
THEN to all other Lords and Ladies bright,
And euery vertuous Gentleman and Knight,
Doe thou appeare; and say th'art come from me,
And I doe hope thou shalt more welcome bee:
As sure as I in famous London stand,
I shall haue gifts of euery Noble hand.
AND when with Lords and Ladies thou hast done,
About the House in euery office runne,
And from the highest to the lowest Groome,
Say, thou for my repaire and helpe art come;
And I dare wager euery one will say,
They'le giue to me, and spare another way.

Secondly, to the Clergie.

THVS doe thou leaue the Court, and quickly hie
Vnto the Reuerend Bishops and Clergie,
And giuing Them due Grace and Reuerence,
Craue thou Their Bounties and Beneuolence.
Tell Them I am Their Church of greatest note,
Although I weare a poore and ragged coate;
And stand in fairest Citie of this Land,
And with great state was builded to Their hand.
I was the onely Mirrour, so am still,
But then for Beautie, now for looking ill:
And Strangers wonder, why I am so bare,
Where such great costs on pleasures buildings are:
And where for Vanitie, there wants no coine,
Or any thing to make her braue and fine.
I doe assure them (vnder their Correction)
That I haue liued long in great subiection,
And 'cause I doubt my rents and meanes are small,
That I shall not be mended till I fall,
I thinke it not amisse for Them and mee,
To trie what helpe from others there will bee:
So I haue turn'd thee to the world therefore,
That (if I want,) good men may giue me more:
And doubtlesse there are Thousands that would giue,
Great and large gifts, to see me prosperous liue.

Thirdly, to the Citie.

NOW from the Clergy walke through London-City,
And looke them out that my poore case do pitie;
For there thou'lt finde innumerable many,
That for my good, will doe as much as any;
No place so famous as that Royall Towne,
For works of Worth, of Honour, and Renowne.
Be it for profit, pleasure, health, or state,
(Whatsoe're it cost,) the Citizens will ha't.
Marke but Morefields, how it's aduanced hie
That did before both lowe and loathsome lie:
And going on take Algate in thy way,
Note well her building, and her rich aray.
Then without feare of stocks or pillorie,
Goe to the garden call'd Th'artilarie,
Passe by the pikes and muskets, and be bold,
That honourable action to behold:
And I am sure if backe thy newes thou bring,
Thou wilt protest it is a worthy thing,
That men of note their time and coine should spend,
To practise Armes, their Country to defend,
And voluntarily themselues incline,
To learne the rules of Martiall discipline.
I like it wondrous well, and could agree.
In euery Shire and Towne the like might bee,
That if in time we come to counterbuffes,
We may haue skill at Armes more then at cuffes,
And be prepar'd with skill and armour bright,
Against Gods enemies, and mine to fight.
Nowe come to Bowe in Cheape that cost full deare,
And see how gloriously shee doth appeare.
From thence to Smithfield if thou chance to hit,
Tell me what costs they haue bestow'd on it,
It was before a filthy noisome place,
And to the Citie verie much disgrace,
Yet now some say it may with best compare,
Of market places that in England are.
Then vnto Amwell see what you can say,
(The Riuer which was cut the other day,)
Me thinkes it is a very famous thing,
And doth much comfort to the Citie bring:
I needs must say it doth, and will avowe it,
And so I thinke all others will allow it,
And praise the Founders for their good intention,
And pray to blesse them, and their newe inuention.
So may you verie well the Founders praise,
Of water-engins made in former dayes;
For they are worthy, and their works good still,
Though Amwell doe the best it can or will.
Also for Charitie and good Almes-deedes,
What Citie vnder heauen more poore feeds?
Or who more bountifull to Preachers be,
Then Londiners to their abilitie?
All which I doe, and may reioyce to see,
And hope (in time) they'le doe some good to mee:
And so will leaue a thousand things to name,
That likewise doe deserue their lasting fame,
And those more cheifely which were done of late,
(Together with their triumphs of great state,)
Because for thee my Booke, and for the Wise,
I hope t'will be enough for to suffice.
And therefore nowe thy dutie there is done,
See that to other Cities thou be gone;
Intreat them faire as thou go'st on thy way,
And doe not care what carping Critticks say.

Fourthly, to the Countrie.

WHEN thou hast done in Citie and in Towne,
I pray thee walke the Countries vp and downe,
And so disperse thy selfe both farre and wide,
Till euery honest Christian heart be tride:
Spare neither sexe, nor age, nor bond, nor free,
Nor any one of whatsoe're degree:
For though some places are but poore and bare,
Yet will the poorest haue a mite to spare;
The Countrie welcome I doe knowe is kind,
Where meanes doth hit according to the minde.
Therefore my louing Booke take heart and goe,
Thou shalt finde tenne good friends for one bad foe:
Doe not thou feare for want of Eloquence
Or filed tearmes, to please the outward sence;
But with a courage and a conscience free,
Doe what thou canst to grace and pleasure me,
And I will pray as much as in me is
To bring my Benefactors vnto blisse,
Thy words are honest, and thy matter true,
Wherefore goe on I say, and so A-Dieu.
Thy wel-willer to the Worlds ende, S t. PAVLES Church.

❧ The Epistle of the Author to all Courteous and Charitable Readers.

IF you should aske me Why I vndertooke,
Into the ruines of Paules Church to looke?
Or How I durst (like Bayard) lift my Muse,
To such a height, or such a subiect chuse?
Or Who prouok'd me on, or bid me doe it?
Or who did set their helping hands vnto it?
Or Which way I doe thinke this Land can raise,
Inough Beneuolence in these hard dayes?
Or What the ende of my intent should be?
Or When I thought this worthy worke to see?
To these your Why, your How, Who, Which, What, When,
I answer thus kind friends and Gentlemen:
First, for your Why, my reason I will tell,
It's cause I loue, and still will loue Bethel;
And How I durst on such a subiect write?
It's cause I doe it in the Churches right;
For whom, and for my Prince and Countrie too,
I'le spend my blood, write, speake, ride, runne, or go.
And for your Who did bid me or assist me?
It was my God that hitherto hath blist me.
And for your Which way such great gifts will rise,
I could set presidents before your eyes
Of one or two, whose deeds so farre extend,
As would build three, and this Church well amend.
Then wonder not (I pray) which way or whence,
This Land should raise such great Beneuolence.
And for your What's the ende of my intention?
The scope of all my Booke will make you mention.
And lastly, for your When this worke shall bee,
Belongs vnto my Betters not to me,
To God and King, and Powr's superiour,
And not to me that am inferiour.
Wherefore (good Readers) take it well in worth,
The answer which to you I haue set forth,
And when this Booke of mine abroad is sent,
(Though poore and plaine) beleeue it is well meant:
And eu'ry thing's well done that's taken so,
But otherwise the good for bad doth goe.
I doe confesse and all the world may know-it,
I am too weake, to haue the name of Poet,
Yet I protest I like so well the art,
I would a good one bee withall my heart;
But now it is too late to wish or crie
I was no poet borne, nor one shall die.
Since first into this businesse I waded,
I could not be by any friend disswaded,
Although they told me strange things of these dayes,
That might haue made me doubtfull many wayes;
But beeing voide of feares, or thought of harme,
I did my selfe with Christian courage arme,
And stoutly went through thicke and thinne to shore,
Where neuer any waded yet before;
And now haue finisht what my soule requir'd,
Though not so well by halfe as I desir'd;
God graunt it may such good acceptance haue,
That once againe this Bethel may be braue.
And you deare Friends whose fauours I obtaine,
Health to your dayes while here you doe remaine,
And after this life euer may you stand,
Most blessed Saints in the Celestiall Land.
Yours onely in the vttermost of my best endeauours and wishes, HENRIE FARLEY.

At Zoilus, Momus, and their mates, This doe I fling to breake their pates.

CRitticks surcease, and doe not stirre too much,
Least medling more then needs, I may you touch,
And tell you to your teeth you are no friends
To any good beginnings, or good ends.
Though plaine I am, to Prince I am as true,
And loyall too, as are the proud'st of you:
Nor haue I wronged you or any other,
More then a louing child would wrong his mother:
Or written any thing so voide of reason,
But that it may (to good men) come in season;
Wherefore let Iustice rule you, and be quiet,
And seeke not'gainst my right to make a riot:
For if you doe, I must defend my cause,
By helpe of God, or King, or Armes, or Lawes;
Yet will I yeeld my life vnto my Betters,
But not to you, if I should starue in fetters.
Perhaps I'm borne to bee a Phinees bold,
To begge and pray for poore, and weake and olde,
And such as are both dumbe, and deafe, and blind,
That in this flintie Age no helpe can find.
What's that to you, or wherefore should you grutch,
When nine times worse, you spend ten times as much?
But that's to please your humour, that's well done,
And in that vaine your course runnes headlong on,
Vntill you make your selues so poore and bare,
That twentie such haue not a doite to spare.
If this my suite be rightly well regarded,
I may haue thanks, and loue, and be rewarded:
And more then that, (if lucke do not miscarrie)
Paules friends will say, I was an honest Harry:
So gaine a vertuous Fame when I am rotten,
By future Ages not to be forgotten,
While (if you please) you may goe shooe the goose,
And (wanting garters) weare your stockings loose.
Yours, as you plainely see, till you are friends with mee. H. F.

In laudem Authoris
Carmen [...].

SEmiruta aspiciens Paulini culmina templi
Farleius, queritur tale perire decus.
Mox piaspirantem componit vota libellum,
Et quia non poter at magna, minora facit.
Qui si tàm nosset templum, quàm condere versum,
Efficeret propria, quod vouet, ipse manu.
Fortunet laetis deus hoc successibus ausum,
Gloria & ingenuum certa sequatur opus.
THe great Kings House, & Courts on earth decay' [...]
Let King, and Court to heauen raise vp againe,
And of the Church-men let it ner'e be said,
That they did grudge the Temple to maintaine:
Let London Londons beauty beautifie,
And Countrie-men their Countries-dignity:
And with the Churches wished exaltation,
Mount vp this Authors rightfull commendation.
I. W. T. C.

THE COMPLAINT OF PAVLES, TO ALL CHRISTIAN SOVLES.

THE great complaint that here is made good people,
Is of Pauls Church, and of that polled steeple,
Which stands within the famous citie London,
Cracked, defaced, rent, and almost vndone:
Mourning like Charing-crosse, be'ing much decaid,
And of the stormes and winter blasts afraid,
Saying (alas) will no man pitie me,
But suffer still my poore aduersitie?
I'st S. Pauls doctrine you would faine imbrace?
Then crowne my head, do me some outward Grace:
Let strangers see and all that come to Towne,
That your cheife Church doth flourish, not fall downe:
And let me haue some Beautie, forme, and fashion,
That yee may shewe your selues a louing Nation,
And so assure me you doe not reiect me,
But with your wonted fauours doe respect me.
I know that for your owne delights and pleasures,
Vpon your houses you bestow great treasures,
Without, within, not any costs you spare,
To make them shew most beautifull and rare,
With stately Lanthornes, Pyramids, and things,
Pictures of mightie Emperours and Kings,
High turrets, towers, and curious phanes of price,
As if it were the place of Paradise,
While I am bare, and like a Chaos stand,
That should be fairest prospect in the land.
What is the reason I should be no higher?
Because my chance was to be burnt with fire:
Or doe you thinke the charge but cast away
That is bestowed on the Church decay?
Or is it Merlins sorceries and lies
Hath made you feare with his false prophesies?
Or what's the reason you should thus neglect
To build me vp againe with faire prospect?
I am Gods house, consider then I pray,
What cause there is that I should thus decay:
Is it not pitty I should ragged bee,
While on proud flesh such golden gawdes I see?
Alas for shame I cannot choose but blush,
To see the world so stumble at a rush,
Yet easily it skips and leaps or'e blocks,
Not sparing charge, nor fearing any knocks.
A thousand yeeres I stood in prosperous state,
And so remained till it was of late:
My auncient Founders were my louers deare,
They spar'd no cost as doth full well appeare:
But rais'd me from the ground aloft the skies,
To be a wonder for a world of eyes,
And made my watchfull cocke stretch forth his wings,
As doth the Larke when (mounting high) he sings
Haleluiah with his pretie voice,
And (neer'st the Heauens,) more he doth reioyce.
Then with the least aire that in skie did blowe,
Which way the winde did set, my cocke would showe;
Ah, then was I a Princely Monument,
In sight of all that vnto London went:
And then had I the Commendation,
And held in highest reputation:
But now (like one forlorne,) I stand vnpitt'ed,
As if I had some monstrous fault committed.
Sometimes a view is made vpon my wants,
And then (twixt hope and feare) my heart it pants,
But all in vaine I hope, (alas my griefe,)
Surueiours gone, then this is my releife;
To vndertake so high a worke to mend,
Great is the charge (saie some) and to no end,
For (but for shew) to what vse will I serue,
Whereby such cost on mee, I should deserue?
Which censure makes me linger in consumption,
That to bee cured I haue small presumption.
Fie, fie, where are the minds were heretofore?
Are they growne poore, and will be rich no more?
Or are the gold and siluer Ages past,
And now an iron Age, left at the last?
Then woe is mee, my hopes, are fond and vaine,
I neuer looke to be repair'd againe.
When first I was by Ethelbert beganne,
No helpe was wanting could be found in man;
The Labre'r would beginne at worke to sweate,
Before he did desire to drinke or eate;
All workemen striued for to shewe their skill,
Not so much for their gaine, as in good will;
Whether by taske, or working by the day,
Not one that would a minute spend in play;
Nor would they sleight their workes as now men doe,
But wrought with Art and expedition too;
One free dayes worke in euery weeke I knowe,
They would on me most willingly bestowe.
What should I say? If I should goe about,
To reckon all particulars throughout;
(The rules obserued to beginne and ende,
The gifts that many vnto mee did send,
The solemne orders laying my first stone,
With hallowing the ground I stand vpon:
The candles that were burned euery night,
At euerie time I grewe a man in height,
The noise of Drummes▪ and eke of Trumpets sound,
When first I did appeare aboue the ground;
The triumph made at my first Scaffolds raise,
The solemne songs were sung in Heauens praise:
The number set on worke by sea and land,
As if the Christian world I might command;
If I were best that vseth swift to write,
I could not in two yeeres the same recite.
And if so many men were in a plaine,
As for my good did labour and take paine,
A royall armie would appeare to be,
Of power to fight with mightie enemie.
They wrought about me like the prettie bees,
And euery night went home with wearie knees,
And euery morne came fresh to worke againe,
As if the day before they felt no paine:
Their honey-drops distill'd from them apace,
(I meane the sweate of euery workemans face)
Their labour was their festiuall for me,
In hope my future prosperous state to see,
A world it was to note how all were bent,
How willingly their coyne and time they spent,
Without a Lotaty or forc'd collection,
For all were free in any such good action:
There was no pining at the Church expence,
But all was brought in true Beneuolence:
And those that died in my diocesse,
Would will me something, more or lesse:
At all communions, and marriage dayes,
At Christenings, and many other waies:
The very poorest, would (without excuse)
Send or giue something to my proper vse:
And all to make mee beautifull and faire,
That Christ his flocke might vnto me repaire,
To teach and learne the Heauenly words of Grace,
And so to growe and fructifie apace,
In all good waies of Christian Pietie,
Best pleasing to the Heauenly Deitie.
Which (in good time) is long since brought to passe,
The like as ner'e in any kingdome was:
So that for preaching, I may now compare
With all the Churches vnder heauen are.
Praised be God whose goodnesse doth excell,
Beyond what I can aske, or tongue can tell,
From age to age, hee still hath succour'd mee,
And out of thrall for euer set me free.
My inward garments, shine so bright and pure,
As now no errour can the same obscure:
For on the Bread of life in me you feede,
And doe receiue all things your soules doe neede;
My Preachers bid you come, buy without money,
Things sweeter then the honey-combe or honey;
They tell you that the poore repentant sinner,
Shal be inuited to a Heauenly dinner;
And how the wilfull wicked are corrected,
And from Gods fauour vtterly reiected.
They preach that pride shalbe consum'd with fire,
And God will raise the simple from the mire.
They say that Enuie is a murthering sinne,
Whil'st neighbour-loue the loue of God dtoh winne.
They teach and prooue that griping Couetousnesse,
Is cheifest cause of sinne and wickednesse:
Whilst Charitie and fruits of Christian loue,
Doth please the Lord, and all his Saints aboue.
They say in holy Scripture it is found,
That all the world for drunken sinne was drown'd,
And that with water was; but now I thinke,
The greatest part will drowned be in drinke.
They say that gluttonie and all excesse,
Shall punisht be in Hell with paines endlesse:
And that all whooredome, and adulterous acts,
All poisonings, witchcrafs, and such wicked facts,
Treason, periurie, cousenage, and lying,
Vnto the Lord of Hosts are daily crying.
And thus they preach the Law and Gospel too,
And faithfully Gods holy worke they doe;
And all to set you in the perfect way,
That Heauen may yours be another day.
By this you see how faire I am within,
Oh blest are they that did that worke beginne:
And they that did and doe maintaine the same,
Eternall be their Honour and their Fame:
But such as seeke that Glorie to deface,
Hell be their ende, and in this life disgrace.
Ah faire Eliza, now I thinke on thee,
Full foure and fortie yeeres thou succordst me,
And didst defend me with thy awfull sword,
'Gainst proudest foes that did oppose Gods word:
And when away thou must from vs be gone,
God and thou send'st a second Salomon,
By whom and by whose issue, I am sure,
Paules faithfull doctrine shall with me indure;
And be maintained, (maugre hellish spite)
So long as Sunne and Moone doe yeild their light.
His words, His workes, His will to God is bent,
His Bookes doe shew that Hee from God is sent:
For Prouerbs to His Sonne He did declare,
1. Basilicondoron. 2. His Apology for the oath of Allegiance. 3. Canticum Canticorum.
Then next a Preachers part He did not spare,
The third His song of songs most sure shall be,
That shall set forth His Kingly loue to me,
His cheife delight is all in Trinitie,
Of them to make a perfect Vnitie.
What is the good wherein Hee hath no part?
What is the bad He hates not with His heart?
Where are the poore that iustly can complaine,
Whose needs. He helps not, and their right maintaine?
Where is the wight of worth and due desert,
But of his Royall bountie hath had part?
And where's the Princes that to Him resort,
That doe not of their welcome well report?
And eke extoll His great magnificence,
His wisedome, learning, wit, and eloquence;
As did the Queene of Saba (Dauids sonne,)
So they admire our Royall Salomon,
And say though times doe alter and mens names,
So that our Salomon is called IAMES,
Yet for his wealth, his wisedome, strength and all,
A Second Salomon you may Him call;
His Land the Israel that flowes with milke,
And honey sweet, corne, cattell, cloth, and silke,
Gold from all parts, spice, oyle, and wine,
Treasures from East and West, Pearls rich and fine;
People innumerable as the sands,
That well he may send out to forraigne lands,
Great store of them to place and plant elsewhere,
That He an Israel new may build and reare,
Whereby Gods word throughout the world may goe,
As in the Scriptures Christ commanded so:
Goe yee preach and baptise in euery coast,
In'th name of Father, Sonne, and Holy Ghost:
Which worthy worke his Highnesse hath begunne,
As much as any heretofore hath done:
Virginnia, Sommer-islands, and the rest,
Will testifie in time how they are blest,
By comming of His Subiects there to liue,
Which could not be, if He no leaue did giue.
[...]
[...]
By which good meanes those which now Sauage be,
Will come in time to Christianitie;
If not the elder sort, the younger may,
And after one age thousands euery day.
Though all things at the first seeme hard to bee,
Yet good beginnings haue good ends you see,
So it be followed and well protected,
And for Gods glorie cheifely be respected:
No such beginnings need to feare good ends,
For they shall haue both God and King their friends.
There is not any that for wise would passe,
But holds that England as Virginnia was,
And how it's now the world may iudge with me,
A brauer Kingdome neuer eie did see;
And so (in time) may poore Virginnia,
If seconded by rich Brittannia.
OH God, I pray thee blesse this Royall IAMES,
The prayer of Paules.
Q. ANNE, Prince CHARLES, their issue, & their realmes,
Prince PALATINE, and his ELIZA faire,
Their Princely Babe and first borne Sonne and Heire;
Feede them with Manna from thy mercie-seate,
Let thy Word be their onely drinke and meate:
Blesse all their Counsell (faithfull, wise, and graue,
With euery gift good Counsellors should haue:
Their gracious and their reuerend Bishops all,
Blesse likewise Lord; and more especiall,
Their Reu'rend Kingly Father of this See,
Cheife Lord and Preacher that belongs to me;
Also their Deane and Chapter of this place,
Blesse with thy louing countenance and grace,
And all the rest of godly Ministrie,
And daily them increase and multiply:
Oh make their words and workes for aie agree,
That I the Halci [...]on dayes and houres may see.
Blesse all their Nobles, Knights, and Gentrie all,
Their Yeomandry, and Commons great and small.
Blesse both their Nurses of sweete learnings lore,
And all good Students now and euemore:
Blesse Them from all designes of feare and blood,
And from all things that are not for Their good:
Poison the poisoners that seeke Their death,
And suffer not a Traytor once to breath;
Roote out the Romish rubble from their Land,
That naught but plots of murther haue in hand;
Driue farre from Them all Sorcerers and Deuils,
And still defend Them from pretended euills:
Blowe all the chaffe away that spoiles good corne,
And let no vaultie villaines more be borne;
Set markes of powder-vengeance in their faces,
And let it there abide to their disgraces.
Yet Lord, thou art their potter, they the clay,
Thy skill and will can worke them any way:
Then if it bee thy will, for Honour make them,
And in thine anger do not quite forsake them:
Or as the Scripture saith, (a blessed storie)
Do what thou wilt, O God, for thine owne glorie.
Blesse this most famous Citie where I stand,
The Flowre, the Perle, the Iemme of Brittaine Land,
The Honourable Maior of the same,
The Sherifs and the Aldermen by name,
All other officers in their degree,
And all good Citizens whereso'ere they be.
My Benefactors I doe pray thee blesse,
And frame their hearts to giue with willingnesse:
So blesse, O Lord, the Noble English hearts,
That in Virginnia haue done their parts;
Incourage and increase them euermore,
And still enrich their treasure and their store;
Oh let all worthie minds imboldned bee,
To doe the works that best may Honour thee.
And I doe pray thee sith the times grow ill,
Teach all the ready way to doe thy will;
So by thy goodnesse sinne may be or'ecome,
And they prepar'd against the day of doome,
To liue with thee in thy eternall blisse▪
Where they shall neuer any comfort misse;
Vnto which blessed place, Lord bring them still,
That feare thy name, and striue to doe thy will.
AND now for to returne where I left off,
Least some perhaps may rashly giue ascoffe;)
I must complaine of more then yet you see,
Which I desire may well amended bee:
My body round within, and eke without.
My windowes, and my pillars all about,
My pauements, and my doores, my leads, my walls,
And many other faults vpon you calls,
And craues repaire against all wind and weather,
That wee may giue you thanks for altogether.
The Church the foeminine gendor doth require,
And like a Ladies should bee her attire;
Nay like an Empresses adorn'd, and grac'd,
Within, without, in order all things plac'd;
And cheifely that Church which is most insight,
(The head, the members guide, and candle-light;)
So should I bee that all the world may know,
Th'vnfayned loue that Brittaines hearts do owe
To mee their Princely Church, and Empresse deare,
In whom the word of God doth shine most cleare.
Say that you should vpon your backe bestow
Rich clothing, as ther's many doe I know,
And on your head a threedbare cap should weare,
Motheaten, and at ev'ry touch to teare;
Would you not thinke that all which see you goe,
Could chuse but wonder why you should doe so?
In all whatsoeuer like to like is best,
If one part be well cloth'd, so let the rest;
Or els that which is base makes all seeme base,
And by that fault doth all the rest disgrace.
Were it not strange also (oh pardon mee,)
That any one within the Court should see
Our Royall Queene attir'd in base aray,
And all her hand-maides cloth'd in garments gay?
I thinke t'were strange, and such vnseemely sport,
As neuer will (I hope) be in our Court:
Yet euen so the case with mee doth stand,
That am the Queene of Churches in this Land:
For in the middle of a matchlesse Citie,
I stand like to a mourner, more the pittie,
Inuironed with buildings faire about,
And I am tallest built in all the rowt;
All other Churches are but dwarfes to mee,
Yet vnto all beare-headed must I bee;
My head should weare the Crowne full well I know,
But that must stand vpon the toppe of Bowe:
Bowe steeple in Cheapeside verie well beau­tified at the cost of one Parish.
Or els the shaft or spire that should bee best,
But that's vpon S. Dunstanes in the East;
My chime of fine small bells might well be heard,
All London ouer, but I am afeard
That some will say, what need such cost be there?
Because (of chimes) there be enough elswhere:
But such Lobiectors I could wish were dead,
That better minds might come in place and stead;
Let such hoard vp for Sir Hugh Prodigall,
Or Sir Raph Want▪wit, you may noddie call,
Whose backe and belly cheere, Tobacco smoake,
All good designes doth hinder, stifle, choake.
Some few (I hope) the Lord will euer raise,
To bee the light and mirrour of these dayes,
That (in good time) will pittie my complaint,
And with my wants will all my friends acquaint,
And stirre them vp to be as franke to me,
As God (to them) is bountifull and free.
One such a Sutton as of late did die,
That turned Charter-house to charitie,
If to himselfe the honour he would haue,
With halfe that charge he might repaire me braue;
But such a worthy Phoenix is so rare;
That hardly any will with him compare;
Nay would tenne thousand would now ioyne in one,
To doe as much as he alone hath done.
But stay a while (my Muse) no further goe,
What is the reason thou art grieued so?
Let not fell anger in thy heart take place,
But patiently I pray thee, beare a space;
Not any of my coate should angry bee,
But gentle, mild, and full of curtesie;
Nor should beggers, (men doe say) bee choosers,
Least crauing all, they still are all the loosers.
I thinke now on a good conceit and true,
That doth my comforts once againe renue;
For listning what the Princes said of late,
(When they were pleas'd to be on my bald pate,)
As I did vnderstand this was their talke,
As they (about) on eu'ry side did walke;
Alas good Paul (saith one) how poore and bare,
Thy head, thy sides, thy battlements now are?
Is't possible that long thou shouldest thus stand,
In such a Cittie and a prosperous land?
As I am Christian I'le speake for thee,
That once againe thou mayst tryumphant bee:
Thy shaft shall vp againe, thy cocke shall crowe,
Or else thou shalt be crown'd as well as Bow:
Which of these two will surest on thee stand,
I will entreat thou maiest haue out of hand:
Comfort thy selfe (good Paul) be not dismaid,
It shalbe done to thee, as I haue said;
To which the other Princes all agree'd,
And said it should bee surely done with speed.
THIS did I heare, or els was much deceiu'd,
And of my sence of hearing quite bereau'd;
But that's no marueile if it so should bee,
For age, and cold, breeds much infirmitie,
And waiting so long bearehead is a thing
That (to the soundest) may diseases bring,
And make him so benummed, and so weake,
That hee shall hardly stand, or heare, or speake.
Indeed I am or'eioy'd, I must confesse,
When I am visited with Princely guests;
For then I hope, some good will come to mee,
Towards releife of my necessitie;
So ioy might make me to mistake their speech,
Which (if I did) I humbly doe beseech
A pardon for this fault, and then hereafter
Ile write of nothing but Ile bring mine Author,
To verifie the truth of that I write,
Or els my pen shall neuer more indite.
And for my Writer also let me craue,
His pardon likewise I would gladly haue:
His learning you may see is poore and weake,
And I can make but signes, I cannot speake;
I shew'd my coate, my head, my broken sight,
How poore it was, how bald and wanting light:
Where [...] he vow'd, that he would neuer rest
Vntill with state and beautie I were drest;
For which I must not shewe my selfe ingrate,
But pray that he may liue right fortunate:
His meaning's good, that you may plainely see,
Though he want Eloquence to polish me,
Beare with his wants, accept of his good will,
Encourage him that is well minded still.
If once I were attired faire and braue,
Then London all her ornaments shall haue;
All things would then be sutable to me,
And to my friends most gratefull will I bee:
For then will I when my Request is done,
Send to the banks of learned Helicon,
Or to Pernassus mount, where Eloquence
Doth passe my Authors dull intelligence,
Where I shall finde such fruits on Eden tree,
As shall set forth their fauours done to mee;
And on my Pinnacles there shall they place,
Most thankefull mottoes for my Founders grace.
And more to shewe their loues and good intents,
They shall set poesies on my battlements,
That shall my Benefactors loue vnfold,
To all the world in sentences of gold.
Let't not be said when you for Christ his sake
Warre with his enemies doe vndertake,
That your religion doth with Church decay,
But let your seene, your vnseene zeale display;
That valiantly you may your selues expresse,
Like Christians stout in weale or in distresse,
In spight of all that wicked wights can doe,
And for the glorie of the Gospel too.
Then famous Brittaine thou'lt be happie still,
In godly pleasures thou shalt take thy fill:
Feare thou no foes for Christ will be thy guard,
Whose breath can make a mightie host afeard:
Thy Kingly Dauid also can dispute
With Turke or Antichrist, and them confute;
And when to warres his Highnesse shall incline,
He'le quell the pride of stoutest Philistine,
And in the meane time with a Bible-stone,
Will dash his braines, and crush his greatest bone:
For he that in his breast doth weare that sheild,
(As doth this Dauid) needs not feare the field:
But with true faith and courage he may meete
Sathan himselfe, and stampe him at his feete.
His golden pen that wrote for Christ his sake,
The Angels vp to Heauen did it take,
And bid Him be as bold with Pike as Pen,
For He should be the onely King of men,
And that in Him and His posteritie,
Should be or'ethrowne all Popish heresie:
Which Christ (I pray thee) grant it may be so,
To all that Thy iust quarrell vndergo:
For sweet's that BLOOD that in Thy cause is shedde,
As was Thy BLOOD that Thou for man hast bledde.
And now for to conclude what hath beene said,
I doe beseech my pouertie be wai'd:
Oh let not base Obliuion burie me,
[...] [...]
Least in Obliuion I doe burie thee,
And scorne that thou shouldst build within my wombe,
To grace thy selfe with any sumptuous tombe,
Where thy remembrance must indure for aye,
And I poore Church be suffered to decay.
My Innocence pleads no such Ignorance:
But it I were dispos'd to cast a glaunce,
I soone could finde such costs on tombes laid out,
As almost would amend me round about:
These in my bowels neere my heart must lie,
And I poore ragged wretch must pitie crie:
And this the purse of ten or twelue haue done,
Yet left enough for wife, and euery sonne.
Can tenne or twelue doe so, and twice as much?
And shall a Citie and a Kingdome grutch
To giue a trifle to so good a deed,
As should releeue my pouertie and neede?
And not so giuen, neither as quite lost,
For that were vanitie and idle cost;
For from thee it doth goe vnto thy brother,
(I meane the workeman, and to many other.)
That's cast away, that goes out of the Land,
And comes no more in King or Subiects hand:
Or that that's hidden in the earth, or bagges,
While thy poore Brother's naked, or in ragges.
Oh come with gladnes then vnto this charge,
Brittaine is wealthy, populous, and large,
And those that giue in loue and charitie,
Into a Booke let them recorded bee,
That childrens children may hereafter know,
The loue their fore-fathers to me did owe;
And be incourag'd in their younger dayes,
To doe the works deseruing lasting praise:
For he that doth deferre good deeds till death,
Seild comes to good the thing hee doth bequeath.
ON bended knees of loue and loyaltie,
And at the feete of Soueraigne Maiestie,
King, Queene, and Prince, and Priuie Counsellers,
Archbishops, Bishops, Brittaines Senators,
Once more I doe most humbly, begge and craue,
That my defaults amendment now may haue:
Nobles, Knights, Gentrie, Commons great and small,
In loue and reuerence I pray you all,
That ye these faults will helpe for to amend,
For Brittaines honour till the world doth end:
Wiues, and Widdowes, Maidens dying, liuing,
Vnto this worke of Pietie be giuing;
According to your works yee shall inherit,
Yet for your works no place in Heauen can merit:
For what is he that since the world beganne,
Hath beene so iust, and so vpright a man,
Whose good works could exceede aboue his euill,
But onely Hee that conquer'd death and deuill?
That Christ, that Lambe, that Doue, that God-man, he
Did onely merit your eternitie.
To him therefore doe you his praises send,
And so of my Complaint I make an ende.

Laus Deo in aeternum.

THE EPILOGVE:
OR, An Extasie, which Paules fell into after it had complained: partly of Hope, and partly of Feare.

WHEN my complaint was ended, I amazd
Stood, and beheld how people on me gazd:
My thought that euery one that walked by,
Did looke vpon me with compassions eie:
EXCEPT some twelue, and that was Enuie one, 1
A pale-fac'd fellow, wishing good to none:
He vo'wd, and swore from his more gall then heart,
Vnto my need he would no penny part:
His reason beeing asked, he replied,
All others but his owne good he defied.
THE second was a miserable Chuffe, 2
Hee at at my mournefull suite did storme and puffe;
And said, for all my pouertie and ragges,
He would not part with money from his bagges.
Shall I (said hee) giue any thing to thee,
If I should want, what canst thou giue to me?
THE third was Pride, and he did looke so hie, 3
That he could not my pouertie espie:
To giue (he said) it is not now the fashion;
And for to beg, it's held abhomination.
THE fourth was Carelesnesse; his answer was, 4
That for my need and wants he did not passe,
His reason why he will no bountie giue,
Is' cause (quoth he) I'le stand while he shall liue,
And so departs with scoffing, and with laughter,
And bids them care that ought to care hereafter.
THEN Pickthanke comes, the fift he is in number, 5
He pries in others faults, and makes great cumber,
And for to saue himselfe from any charge,
He doth not care how he doth speake at large,
And reckons vp collections made before,
(Inough for to releife my wants and more;)
So that if others were i'th minde hee's in,
He would see that before he would beginne.
Alas, if such a thing were done before,
Let it not now be laid on good mens score;
Whose wills are such (although they are not many)
Me to repaire without the helpe of any:
But sith their meanes compareth not with minde,
(Without some helpe) I can no comfort finde.
THEN Curiositie the sixt goes by, 6
And cause he sees a moate in's brothers eie,
(A word amisse, a syllable, or such,)
To giue a shilling therefore he doth grutch:
And thus he peepes, and pries, and lookes a squint,
And thinks that beggers words should be past print:
When (God doth know) if he were charitable,
The plainest tearmes should serue if he were able.
THE seauenth, Prodigalitie that asse, 7
(That by Duke Humphry oft doth hungry passe,)
He saies, Tobacco, Claretwine, and Sacke
He will not want, though twentie Churches lacke;
To playes, and playing, taylor, or to launder,
Or for a toy, he cares not how he squander:
But when poore Vertue doth but crauea groate,
He's ready in his wrath to cut her throat.
THEN comes the eight, (Haile master) with his traine, 8
Hee saies, what needs such wast? it is but vaine:
It had beene better giuen vnto the poore,
That beg about the streets from doore to doore:
But such a Iudas (if he beare the bagge,)
Hath no intent the poore should haue a ragge.
THE ninth I take it was a Iesuite, 9
(For I did heare him mumble words of spite)
And swore by all the blacke deeds he intended,
He'd rather hang then I should bee amended:
Hang then (quoth I,) or get thee going further,
For thy delight's in ruine and in murther:
Thy curse can doe no harme, thy blesse no good,
Nor all such villaines as delight in blood:
For God in holy Scripture hath appointed,
That none should hurt his Church or his Anointed:
Therefore avant thou wolfe in lambskins cloath'd,
For through the world thy acts and deeds are loath'd.
THEN comes the tenth an Atheist, not an Ar'in, 10
(Though both I do esteeme as dung or carrin;)
He vext and storm'd that any Church should bee
Where Soules should worship any Deitie:
A man to seeme he was, but not Gods creature,
Because he held all things proceed by nature.
THE leauenth was a brother seeming pure, 11
That no good works will heare of or indure,
And all the comfort which to mee he saith,
That I (Asse hee,) must stand and liue by faith;
By faith (quoth I,) what faith dost thou liue by?
By faith it's good when in good faith you lie;
If I had not a Faith, more sure, more humble,
I soone should crake, and rent, and fall, and tumble:
The surest foun­dation of Pauls is the Church vnder it called S. Faith.
Wherefore be gone (Prophane) thy faith deceaues,
And all the world of charitie bereaues.
THE twelu'th and last, a clouted shooe did weare, 12
And in his hand a hedging bill did beare:
(I meane the wretched man, that is so cruell,
That makes his mucke, his Idoll and his Iuell,)
He saies and sweares, (and yet he prates and lies)
That all his wealth's not worth two apple pies;
When (if he were) to take a goodly varme,
Or in some spite to doe his neighbour harme,
His Iugge and hee agree both in one zound,
And from their hutch can vetch a hunderd pound;
And yet he pines and pules for doing good,
As if in pouertie and want he stood.
And thus with griefe of mind, and in some fury,
I haue impaneld vp my vnkind Iewe-ry,
Whose verdict would be such if they may speake,
As would my head, and heart for sorrow breake.
But now these vnkind twelue are gone and past,
Twelue hundred thousand I espie at last,
Virtues welwillers men of charity,
Such as doe pray for my prosperity.
They say I may without be decked braue,
Yet in my inward parts no pride may haue;
I may haue carerings, corronets, and laces,
I may haue louers, kisses, and imbraces;
I may haue Honour due vnto a Queene,
And all this while no pride in mee is seene:
I may haue any thing to make me faire,
That all truths louers may to mee repaire,
And bee enamor'd at my louely face,
And striue who most can enter to my grace:
Not as the wicked money-changing-rout,
(In time of prayer) walke my Isles about,
And make their bargaines, and their idle meetings,
With many false, and fayned newes, and greetings:
But as my friends in feruent zeale and motion,
Come for to heare Gods word with sound deuotion;
My thinks they looke, and smile, and speake, and giue,
And wish that I triumphantly might liue;
They doe not seeke for faults, as others doe,
But doe good deeds, and yet are faithfull too:
They sound no trumpets when they giue their almes,
They haue in them no peeuish froward qualmes;
But all in loue and doue-like charitie
They giue, and giue in Christian veritie:
Wherefore (as is my duty) I will pray
That God will blesse them all both night and day.
[...]
[...]

THE DREAME.

ON the one and twenti'th day,
Of the pleasant moneth of May,
To a groue I did repare,
All alone to take the aire;
Sweete it was, and fresh, and greene,
Decked like a Summer Queene:
Where abiding priuately,
I did here fine melodie:
Philomel did chaunt and sing,
Welcomming the cheerefull spring:
Euery bird did straine her throate,
Warbling out her pretie note.
Walking there a little space,
At last I went with nimble trace,
To a riuer somewhat neere,
That had water pure and cleere:
Fishes there did leape and play,
Swannes did sing their roundelay.
So I set me downe to rest,
In a place that lik't me best;
And beeing there a little while,
Slumber did mine eies beguile,
Till at last a sleepe did take me,
That no noise till night could wake mee:
The place was sure, and I was bold,
The aire was pure, not hot nor cold:
My pillowes were greene grasse and flowers,
The willowes were my shadie bowres;
My little dogge did so attend mee,
That no creature could offend mee.
In this sleepe (good Christian people,)
I dreamed of a Church and steeple,
Which at first my thought was bare,
As many other ruines are,
Weather-beaten and much worne,
Rag'd, deformed, crackt, and torne,
Without battlement or grace,
Too too meane for such a place:
For my thought this Church did stand,
In best citie of this land,
And for seate and eminence,
Had the cheife preheminence:
Wondrous great it was in sight,
And of admirable height:
King and people might it see,
How it was in pouertie:
And all strangers well might say,
'Twere pittie it should so decay,
Where Gods word is well regarded,
And his Preachers are rewarded.
In this dreame (though fast I slept)
Yet (with teares) I truely wept,
And did pray that God would blesse,
Such as would this Church redresse.
After teares were ouer-past,
Ioy did visite me at last,
For my thought this Church was mended,
And the steeple was befriended.
Fashions many I did see,
Er'e any fashion pleased me;
One as before (a seemely spire)
Which was burned downe with fire;
One like Pulchres, one like Bowe,
One like Boston was I trowe;
One Grantham▪ like I did espie,
But his toppe stood not awry:
And many other I did see,
In this dreaming fantasie;
But that which seemed to be best,
Followes after all the rest,
Which if your pleasure be to read,
You'l say it was the best indeede.
My thought the steeple was ta'ne downe,
Lower then the Churches crowne,
And suddenly was rais'd againe,
With good labour not in vaine:
Square it was as t'was before,
Twelue foote higher t'was and more;
Round the toppe a battlement,
Seemely, faire, and excellent;
Aboue that battlement full high,
Foure pinacles I did espie,
Hollow, and of stone so sure,
That till doomes day would endure:
On the toppe of euery one,
Was a little spire of stone,
At the feete whereof there went,
A little pretty battlement:
Round about these battlements
Were fine phanes and ornaments,
By whose motion without stay,
Droue the crowes and kites away:
In each phane was guilt the Coate
Of benefactors of best note;
And in a place conuenient,
On th'inside of each battlement,
A poesie thus was set in gold,
As vnderneath you may behold;
All glorie be to God on hie,
And to this Church prosperitie.
These pinacles foure pictures had,
Which to see did make me glad;
That which stood next to the West,
Had his face towards the East;
Looking with maiesticke grace,
For to see his Sauiours face;
A King he was, a Crowne he wore,
God blesse him now and euermore:
For sure as London hath a Thames,
It was the picture of King Iames:
His Armes were in the highest phane,
And then many noble man,
Had their Armes vnder His,
Round that battlement I wisse:
Like to spangles they did show,
Vnto such as were below;
And they that did to th'toppe resort,
Might say it did belong to'th Court:
His Kingly motto there was plac'd,
Which the Pinacle most grac'd:
Euill come to illintenders,
Good to all true Faiths Defenders.
THEN I lookt to that i'th East, 2
Where a Bishop was at least,
Opposite vnto the King,
Which to me much ioy did bring;
In one hand he had a Booke,
Wherein he seemed for to looke,
In a sweete and reu'rend wise,
Well beseeming such a guise:
His other hand did touch his tongue,
And a sentence thus he sung;
To my Sauiour Ile be true,
And this Church shall haue her due.
On the toppe his Scutchion stood,
Which to see it did mee good;
Vnder that were all others,
Which by calling were his brothers:
This Pinacle did plainely show
The reu'rend Bishops did it owe,
And the Clergie with them ioynd,
Because they would not be behind.
THEN I saw towards the North, 3
Another pinacle of worth;
Where was sitting in a chaire,
One resembling a Lord Maior;
The Cittie Armes were highest there,
Vnder that all Citties were:
A Shippe was carued there also,
As if shee on the Sea did goe:
Then a motto there was set,
Which the Citie grace did get:
Walworth killed rebell Straw,
Cause he spurn'd gainst King and Law;
So by our truth and industrie,
God makes our Citie multiply:
Let rebels swagger how they will,
We will bee true and loyall still.
This pinacle belongs to'th'Citie,
The motto is more true then wittie.
THEN to the South I turn'd mine eie, 4
And in that Pinacle did spie
A Country-man the plough to hold,
A comely Farmer somewhat old,
A Wheat-sheafe was his Armes I trowe;
And the rest that stood belowe,
Were implements of husbandrie,
Set in the phanes most handsomely:
And his motto thus was fram'd,
As here vnderneath is nam'd:
Plaine I am as you may see,
Yet the Best growe rich by me.
TVVIXT each Pinacle there was,
Pyramides that did surpasse,
For beautie and for seemely forme,
Strong enough for any storme.
In the middle of each square,
There they stood and placed were.
One had the picture of a Queene, 1
The fairest that mine eyes haue seene,
Who surely as I'm honest man,
Seem'd to be our Royall Anne:
For it had such Maiestie,
Ioyn'd with gentle clemencie,
That certainely it was the same,
Which before I seem'd to name.
Her motto on the same was set,
Which I neuer shall forget:
Faire without, and grace within,
Are beauties fit for Church and Queene.
And the poesie generall,
Which I named first of all,
That was placed in degree,
As high as all the others be:
All glorie be to God on high, &c.
THE second Pyramides had, 2
The picture of a royall Lad,
Which I imagin'd euer since,
Did resemble Charles our Prince,
By each part of limme and feature,
He did seeme a Kingly creature;
Stout and bold, gentle, free,
And all that in good princes bee:
His motto now I will set forth,
Cause it was a thing of worth:
I scorne the feare of shedding blood,
For God, for Church, for Countries good;
But for all these Ile warre and fight,
As Kings and Princes should by right:
I will helpe the poore oppressed,
And those which truely are distressed.
THE third as faire as was the rest, 3
With Elizabeth was blest,
Rhynes sweete Princesse, Brittaines ioy,
Holding in her armes a Boy,
Whom (if Art doe not dissemble)
Her first borne He did resemble.
At which sight I was amazd,
And with ioy on them I gazd,
Rauished with admiration
At this delectable fashion,
Thinking if such great delight,
Could be in the pictures sight;
What would then the substance bee,
Vnto him that may them see:
I am sure to me t'was Treasure
For to see them in this measure.
Her motto now I will declare,
Kill me, if the same I spare:
In the Churches wealth and peace,
Good things prosper and increase:
But if shee wither and decay,
All Gods blessings fleete away.
IN the fourth faire Pyramide, 4
Two other Pictures I espide,
One of Denmarks royall King,
Whose fame with vs shall euer ring,
And shall be linked in this knot,
Where He shall neuer be forgot:
Three Queenes in one is His Sister,
Twice in England hath he kist her,
With such great ioy on all parts,
As pleas'd ten hundred thousand hearts.
His motto was as doth ensue,
Beleeue me it is very true;
I Christian King of Denmarke, giue
My loue to These, while I doe liue,
And will assist with power and sword,
My kinred, friends, the Church, Gods word.
BY him was Prince Palatine,
Looking on his Valentine;
Each to other seem'd to glance,
With a cheerefull countenance,
In such an amiable sort,
As my soule did therein sport;
This Prince a Motto did vnfolde:
Fit and worthie to be told:
Gods spouse and mine I will maintaine,
So long as I do liue and raigne,
Turke, Pope, nor deuill, shall them fright,
Or do them hurt by day or night,
And in this Gordion knot will I
Bee knit in loue vntill I die.
THEN in the middle of the square
Where all these braue pictures were,
There was rais'd (tenne foote higher)
A curious and a costly spire:
And at the top thereof a Crosse
Of Siluer guilt and not of drosse;
Then a gallant cocke to showe,
Which way still the wind did blow;
In this place good Art was tride,
How to make it sure abide,
And accordingly t'was fram'd,
That no workman could be blam'd;
Not too weightie nor too light,
Like Cheape-crosse it was in sight,
But the pictures there that stood,
Were of Princes that were good,
That this Church did er'st aduance,
And gaue it store of maintenance.
And first the lowest placed there,
Elizabeth and Henry were,
One of proofe one of hope,
Better Princes Heauens cope
Euer had or euer can,
Be better amongst the sonnes of man:
Then betwixt them I espide,
Two Princesses that lately di'd,
Which looked like those of King Iames,
Gotten since hee dwelt by Thames.
And aboue in the next round,
Other Princes there I found,
Pictur'd all in their degree,
As by time now dead they bee:
There in letters of pure gold,
Their right names I did behold;
And I thinke in hollow brasse,
Eu'ry picture shaped was.
This spire was hollow, and with lead
Round about t'was couered;
Fram'd with oken timber pure,
Such as euer will endure:
In that hollow was nought els,
But a score of little bells,
Which the Art of wittie times
Made a delectable chymes:
Who being high, their prettie sound
Might be heard the Cittie round.
In the midst of th'upper loft,
A paire of wodden stayres were wrought,
And a doore at that stayres head,
Which did bring mee to the lead;
Where my thought I did behold,
All that I before haue told.
As about the leads I went,
And saw all things so excellent,
Looking ouer, I did see
The Church likewise as it should be,
With new battlements about,
And walls mended throughout;
All the windowes where need was,
Were amended with pure glasse:
Not any thing that wanted there,
But was repaired eu'ry where,
Neuer did I see a thing,
Of more worth and reckoning▪
Then this vision which I
In my sleepe did plaine espie.
Had I beene an Architect,
Dreaming of this faire prospect,
Or with true tearmes could relate,
All the fashion, forme, and state,
Then might I say it taught mee more
Then any practise did before;
But many things of note and worth,
I am not able to set forth.
After long I had beheld
The outward beautie it did yeld,
Then I was vpon the pinne,
To see what Grace it had within;
Downe I went, (my thought in hast,)
But my speede did proue in wast:
For (to mee) it's griefe to tell;
I was waked by a bell,
And my dogge beganne to bay,
At a frogge leapt crosse my way;
By which meanes I did not see,
How the same within might bee;
And more worse (to ende my theame)
It vexed mee t'was but a dreame;
Well I wisht the Sexton hang'd,
And my dogge I soundly bang'd:
Yet to giue them both their right
T'was time to goe for it was night;
And I thinke my foolish curre
Knew t'was fit for me to stirre:
So away I runne in hast,
And came safely home at last:
Where with pen I did record
All I dreamed word by word▪
And I hope it's not amisse,
To place it where it placed is.
THVS you see (good people all)
What is done for Londons Paul;
If in ought my Dreame prooue true,
Let it be as't pleaseth you:
Though I dreame I doe not teach,
That's a straine beyond my reach;
Since I learn'd my Crosse rowe letters,
I left all teaching to my betters;
And leaue it will vnto my ende,
So good Reader be my friend.

The Booke to PAVLES.

ACcording as you doe command,
I will flie about the Land,
To Court, Clergie, Countrie, Citie,
For to find out Ladie Pitie:
If I finde Her and returne me,
Pray take order none may burne me:
Though I be but poore and plaine,
I may bring you store of gaine:
For this Ladie doth not care,
(In pious vses) what shee spare:
To the Church shee is more free
Then thousands other Ladies bee.

The answer of PAVLES.

BOOKE I thanke thee for thy loue,
And doe pray to God aboue,
Thou maist finde this Lady out,
Where thou goest round about;
That thou maist returne againe,
With a labour not in vaine.
For thy burning take no care,
Thou wilt surely better fare;
I will keepe thee in record,
Till the comming of the Lord.
And thy Author here shall rest,
Whilst his soule with God is blest.
FINIS.

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