1. The Bishop Sings.
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WHat would yee lazie Brownists have,
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you rage and runne away;
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And cry us downe, our Church, and eke,
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the forme therein we pray.
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Oh Monstres great! Abortive sonnes,
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your Mother to forsake;
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To Church you doe refraine to come,
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your prayers there to make.
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You will admit no governement,
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in Church at all to stand,
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Without the which, would soone be seene,
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strange errors in the land.
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You doe assume yourselves to be
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more holy then all people,
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Therefore 'mongst all, you will not come,
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to pray in Church or steeple.
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You'l speake us faire and soberly,
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you will protest in speech,
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With eyes, and hands eke lifted up:
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yet will us over-reach.
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You doe presume, you have no sinne;
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and that you have the spirit,
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And though you cosen and deceive,
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you heaven shall inherit.
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Oh, fie upon your idle life!
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how dare you zeale pretend,
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To loyter here, and there all day
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a prating life to spend.
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What separatist in your Rout
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makes conscience of all sinnes,
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And in his calling paines doth take,
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so soone as day beginnes.
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2. The Brownists Sings.
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YOur lofty Lord-shipp tearmes us lazie
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and runagadoes too,
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But I could wish you Bishops would
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but labour as we doe.
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Sure yee be monsters, for such members
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of Christ his Church as yee,
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I have not read of in Gods word
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allowed by him to be.
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Then you must rather be out of Christ,
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and in his Church impostors,
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For Christ allowes you Lordships none;
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if you will be his Pastors.
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You did presume, you were cocke sure,
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and in your glory firme,
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Christs little flocke to tyrannize
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with countenance full stearne.
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The Apostles of our Saviour Christ,
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you pleade you doe succeede;
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And yet would starve those soules, which they
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did labour for to feede.
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Though with your mouth, you Rome deny;
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yet still her wayes you take,
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A strumpet you confesse she is,
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yet doe her not forsake.
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How dare you, who appointed are
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to Preach Gods holy word;
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Sit in pompe and presume to beare
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in hand the temporall sword.
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Is any Pastor made a Lord,
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but soone's from preaching taken;
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Yea though he laboured much before,
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this makes all be forsaken.
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3. The Author laments.
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HEre's lazie Brownists, lofty Bishops,
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and both accuse each other,
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As runagadoes, Monsters eke;
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unto the Church their mother.
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And yet were both bread up by her,
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and yet Church Monsters too;
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The one doth quite forsake the Church,
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the other would her undoe.
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But now the Parliament no doubt,
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these Monsters will destroy;
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Or else will set them such a forme,
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whereby the Church may joy.
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The one in pride, the other in
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conceited puritie;
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Doth trouble both the Church and State,
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such Monsters for to see.
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Whilst one dissembles, th' other doth
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affirme vaine things for truth,
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Whilst one in pompe, his time doth wast
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the other it spends in sloth.
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Whilst both doe wander from the way
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wherein the Church of God
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Directed is by him to walke,
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both other paths have trod.
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The Brownists noses, want a Ring
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(to draw them with a Rope;)
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The Prelates wings doe cutting neede,
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(least they fly to the Pope.)
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That so the one in Church may Preach
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Gods word, the other heare;
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That both may honour God, and eke
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his lawes may love, and feare.
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