O Lord my God, give grace to guide my Pen,
To write the truth of these vild wicked men,
VVhich doting, drives into the Hunters snares,
To breathe out Curses, when they should use Prayers:
Confound their Pillars, or convert their Rockes,
Mis-leading Leaders, cursed
Nayler, Fox;
False Zeale and Spirits, makes them boast and cracke,
For
Gilpin said,
they have both White and Blacke:
These men take pleasure on the Sabbath Day,
To trouble some, almost as bad as they.
Those that dare Preach, not Call'd by holy order,
Mat. 7.15.
With Hands layd on, approv'd by Heavens Recorder.
Doth runne themselves in danger of their Maker,
For to be punish'd equall with the
Quaker.
These hold, that they once call'd, can sinne no more,
Though
Thiefe, or Robber, Traytor, or a Whore;
Against all truth and Conscience, they aspire,
To guard damn'd Doctrine, and make truth a lyar;
Ioh. 1.8.
That crys we are damn'd, in every
Towne and Street,
This bids Repent, I hold that Doctrine sweet,
But both are led with such a subtile guide,
That shoots the strait,
Mat. 7.13
and runs the way thats wide;
Lord cleare their Eyes, that they may see the evill,
And save their soules from running to the Devill.
They say,
the day of Judgement is at hand;
That I beleeve, for I doe understand,
That Christ himselfe fore-told of such a Sect,
That should deceive, but never his Elect.
This Sect lay close six hundred fifty Yeare,
One thousand more, yet never knowen here.
Audatious Rebels, that wrongs our Heavenly King,
Assumes that Honour that is due to him.
You say you are,
the Life, the Truth, the Way,
What have you left? to whom are we to Pray?
What, doe you thinke we take you to be gods?
Presuming thus, there is but little odds:
O wretched wretches, know you are but men,
And dye you shall, take heed of
Judgement then.
Christ is the
Life, which life he freely gave,
His faithfull servants, and Elect to save:
Christ is the
Truth, you dare it not deny,
He led the
Way, when he was plea'd to dye,
Was Buried, Rose, Assend, then seen no more,
Be faithfull, follow, the way is made before:
Stand still, and study, and blush you are amisse,
And cry for mercy, while there mercy is:
Love not that Spirit, that maketh all this strife,
Confesse you are, no way, no truth, no life.
FINIS.