Truth Discovered
OR
The Shepherds Fled, and the Sheep scattered.
By J.W.
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OH Shepherds keep your sheep
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Least that your God,
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Doth follow you
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With his Correcting rod.
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He is God in town
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And so he is in City,
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To flye away
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Alas it is a pitty.
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Why doe you flye
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In Gods Just angry rage,
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You should have staid and praid
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His wrath for to Aswage.
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Good Shepherds never Leave there flocke
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Unto the Strangers,
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Which makes me wonder
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That those Doctors rangers.
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What flye away?
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Great men of fames renown,
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Sparks and Sybals
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Doctors of this town.
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In your Conceits
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You others did Excell,
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Alas why did you flye
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From Clerken-well.
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The thing is base
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I hold you much to blame,
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They payed you well
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I Speak it to your shame.
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He that is Come
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Speaks better words then this,
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And those that sees you
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In this Land will hiss,
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Sparks flye upward
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And I am sure their hot
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And Sybals is but, A
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Conceited Scot.
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Fye do you flye
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Your faith you Cannot Crown,
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For when you are seen
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In City or in town,
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Men will Cry out
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Are these the men of wonder
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That flyes there City
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For a Clap of thunder.
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We thought there principles
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Had been more sound
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Then for a stroak of death
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Thus to have left the ground.
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What do you teach,
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That men must stay,
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And are you the first
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That durst thus flye, away.
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By your Example
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Most are fled the City,
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The trade is Small
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Alas the more's the pity.
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Where can you flye,
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But God will finde you out,
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If to the deeps Abiss of Hell
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He is there no doubt.
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Or to the Seas,
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Or to the furthest land,
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He there can reach you
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All's at his command.
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Death, hath done justly
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To snatch away their Clerk,
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In losing of their Tythes
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They lost their mark.
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Would ever men
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That had so great renown,
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For Gods Just Judgements
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Thus have left this town.
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Now roten harted Doctors
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Where's your spirit,
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Nothing but Ignomy
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And shame you merit.
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Had you been true
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And with your Parish stayd,
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Double and treble
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I am sure they would you paid.
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Gods angry with us
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All the world can tell,
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Divines staying in town
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Would now do well.
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For they are men tis thought
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Would stay Gods hand,
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Their prayer sure are
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Prevalant in this land.
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Where's Moses, now
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That did stand in the gap,
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Gods wrath to turn
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But now it is our hap,
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To find out men
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That more court gold
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Then to restrain, or Gods wrath
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From us hold.
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Pity us O God,
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And stay thy heavy hand,
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And once more let thy
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Mercy rule this land.
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We are thy works
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And all thy works are good,
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O father reach us mercy
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Shed not blood.
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Ministers are men
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But thou art Just and good,
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Leave us not now
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To seek our spiritual food.
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Christ did redeem us
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Thou knowest it full well,
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He was the Cause
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We are not now in hell.
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O bleeding London
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Do not trust too long,
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Unto thy strengh
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For men may do thee wrong.
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Return unto thy God
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Which first thee made,
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So he will ever be thy guide
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And ayde.
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