The English-mans Advice,
That all may leave to live in Sin,
and truly Worship God,
Least he in Anger do begin,
to scourge them with his Rod.
To the Tune of, Young Phoen.
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MOurn England, mourn, like one forlorn,
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thy Sins for Vengeance cry,
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And have approached to the Ears
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of him who lives on High:
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Who hath forwarn'd thee many times,
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[t]hy Messengers most strange,
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But thou wert of a stubborn heart,
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and would not from Sin change.
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Rememember how in Sixty-five,
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a Comet did appear,
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To many Thousands then alive,
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that Buried were that year:
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And when the hand of God was stay'd,
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the Pestilence quite gone,
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The thing that made them sore afraid,
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was little thought upon.
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Oh wicked stubborn-hearted Souls,
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that do from mercy flye,
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You'l cause your selves for to condole,
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by your Iniquity:
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And then the Lord above was mov'd,
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by these your stubborn tricks,
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So he in anger you reprov'd,
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by Fire in Sixty-six.
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Which in a moment did destroy
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the Glory of the Nation,
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Your City, pride, and greatest joy,
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was turn'd to Desolation:
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Besides the Sword upon you came,
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and strangers did invade you,
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For all the Plague and fiery flame,
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none could from sin perswade you.
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And when the Lord above did see
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nothing could you reclaim,
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A bloody plot Rome did decree,
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to Papists lasting shame:
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The Fiends of Hell did then assist,
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this plot for to contrive,
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They thought for to do what they list,
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not one to leave alive
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That would not to their Jools vow,
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nor worship what they pleas'd,
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Through mercy we escap'd them, though
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the Land is still Diseas'd
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And pestered with a Romish Crew,
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whose actions are unjust,
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With them we know not what to do,
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for them we dare not trust.
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But hope that now our Parliament,
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will strive to ease our pain,
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And banish all our Discontent,
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wherein we do remain:
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Oh let the Heavens protect and keep,
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his Majesty from harm,
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Who now is with his Parliament,
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the Papist to alarum.
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And since with them he doth agree,
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as we desire he may,
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Then happy times we sure shall see,
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for which we long did pray:
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Let every Loyal Subject then,
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to Heaven send his petition,
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That God would bless poor English-men,
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and pitty their Condition.
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FINIS.
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