Aurigae Flage[llati]
OR
LONDONS Complainer l[ashed]
BY A
COUNTRY-CART-WHIP.
Being the
Flying CITIZENS Vindication.
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WHither away? Pray what is that to you?
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Unless the Poet is turn'd Watchman too.
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What turned Antick now to stand i'th' street,
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And frighten Children with thy winding-sheet?
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What phrenzie seiz'd thy pate, thy crowing brains,
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To domineer thus in licentious strains?
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'Cause we are gone into the Country, you
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Must have your Wits go a Wool-gath'ring too.
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Because we on the Sea of Safety float,
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You needs must have an Oar too in our Boat?
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What? can't you let your City Tradesmen rest,
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But must bespatter them; foul your own Nest.
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If some (not to return) are gone astray;
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Such as you shew'd them heretofore the way.
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Of which some persons had just cause you'll find:
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Yet to the Poor they left their purse behind.
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But how so pious all o'th' sudden? How?
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Wer't guilty e're of a Religious Vow?
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Strong Faith thou hast indeed, confess I must,
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Thy daily meat and drink is all on trust.
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Our diffidence you blame: What will you do
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If Countrey-Calves do not come up to you?
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Pray God you do not before next December,
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Make to yee Idols of good belly-timber.
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Some did conclude, when this Plague did begin,
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'Twas for the City, not the Kingdoms Sin,
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For Judgments come, where Sinners swarm so much,
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And good men oft participate with such:
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Wherefore (saith God) hide thee, shut thy door fast,
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Until the Indignation be o'repast.
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This Scripture's truth itself you can't deny.
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If God bids hide, why may not we then fly?
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Alas, we think not (vainly) to flie God,
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But Sinful places which call down his Rod.
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All one's the City, or the Countrey-aire,
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For this we know, that God is ev'rywhere.
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We not the Place, but sinful men eschew;
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We're gone to purge ourselves from Sin and you.
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Malicious Sinner! wherefore would you have
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Us stay? To be your Chamber-mates i'th' Grave.
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Just as of late 'twas told me of a Whore,
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That had the pestilential running sore.
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Yet in that case did tempt one o that fact.
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I blush to name, who dy'd i'th' very act.
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Within two hours another man did come;
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But God preserv'd him from the formers doom.
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Going about to kiss her, out she cry'd,
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O God! O God! And so fell down and dy'd.
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You'ld have us stay. Alas, what can we do?
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We lose ourselves by off'ring help to you.
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We Charity would show, and it shall come
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To you, but let it first begin at home.
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Your Souls Physicians, and your Bodys too
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Are gone (you say) and bid you both adiew:
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Good reason why; th' one saw your flinty hearts
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Would not be pierced by the Scriptures darts.
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Tho' lab'ring drops ran down their cheeks with pain,
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These suppl'd not your souls, they preach't in vain.
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Ye left the Church, as if Infection's fear
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Had been the cause that you would come not there:
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And this is shameful, as 'tis very sad,
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Pews were the most of Auditors they had.
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Of those should come to Church, not one in ten;
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But six besides the Clerk to say Amen.
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For leaving God and them (I dare not say)
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God hath left you by calling them away.
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Physicians well may leave you too impure;
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The cause is hid to them, they cannot cure.
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No better Antidote then flight (they think)
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When Waters can't preserve, nor diet-drink:
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Their Applications can't avail, it must
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Be Prayers in Faith that ransoms man from dust.
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O do not then Particulars condemn;
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The fault's in all, in Parsons, Tradesmen, Them.
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Pray look aright then, and let not your Mind
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Or Reason by your Fancy be purblind.
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For 'tis not Flight or staying that doth save
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From Death, when God hath marked out our Grave.
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I, fuge, nam poteris tutior esse foras.
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LONDON, Printed for T.H. 1665.
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