A[N]
EXCLAMATION
AGAINST
POPERY:
OR,
A Broad-Side against ROME.
Occasioned by his MAJESTIES Last Gracious Speech, when he was further pleasd to Express His Zeal
to Maintain the Truly Antient Protestant Religion.
By R.W. D.D.
LICENSED, November the 14th. 1678.
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PLot on, Proud Rome! and lay thy damnd Design
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As low as Hell, well find a Countermine:
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Wrack thy curst Parts! and when thy utmost Skill
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Has provd unable to effect thy Will;
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Call thy Black Emissaries, let em go
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To summon Traytors from the Shades below,
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Where Infant Treason dates its Monstrous Birth;
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Is nurst with Care, and after sent on Earth:
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To some curst Monks, or wandring Jesuites Cell;
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Where it thrives faster, than it did in Hell!
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Call Bloody Brutus up, Lean Cassius too;
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Let Faux, and Catesby both, be of the Crew! ---
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Nay, rather than want Help, let your BULLS run;
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And Damn the Devil, if he do not come!
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Yet after all your Plots, and Hatchings, we,
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(So long as CHARLES, ands Senators agree)
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Will warm our Hands at Bone-fires, Bells shall Ring;
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And Traytors Knells no longer Toll, but Sing.
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We doubt not Rome, but Maugre all thy Skill,
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The Glorious GOD of our Religion will,
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In spite of all thy Art, preserve It still!
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And his peculiar Care of It to shew,
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Defend in Health, Its Great DEFENDER too!
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Ith Interim, Do thou new Crimes invent,
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And well contrive as Subtle Punishment.
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Tis Autumn now with us; and every Tree,
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Instead of Fruit, may bend with Popery.
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Twould be a Novel, tho no hated Sight,
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If every Bough should bear a Jesuite!
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Well meet your Plots with Pikes, Daggers with Swords;
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And stead of long Cravats, well lend you Cords.
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Each Stab in Private, well with Use return:
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And whilst one Hangs, the other he shall Burn;
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Till Tybourns long impoverisht Squire appear
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Gay as the Idol, fills the Porphry Chair.
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Yes, Mighty CHARLES! at thy Command well run
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Through Seas of Rebels Blood, to save thy Crown.
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Our Wives, Estates, and Children too, shall be
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But Whet-stones to our Swords, when drawn for Thee.
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Well Hack and Slash, and Shoot, till Rome Condoles;
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And Hell it self, is cloyd with Traytors Souls:
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Till Godfreys wronged Ghost (which still does call
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For Shoals of Rebels to attend his Fall)
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Cryes out, Dear Protestants, no more pursue
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Their Guilty Blood, my Manes have their Due!
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This, Mighty Monarch! at thy Beck or Nod,
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Shall be effected, as Thou wert a God;
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With so much Readiness, thy Royal Tongue
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Shall hardly Speak, ere we Revenge the Wrong
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On thy curst Enemies; who whilst they state
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Thy Death, shall feel themselves thintended Fate;
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And by a quick Reverse, be forct to try
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The Dire Effects of their own Treachery.
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Poor Scarlet Harlot, couldst Thou stand in want
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Of a Genteel, and Generous Gallant,
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Whose Noble Soul to Baseness could not yield;
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But woud have tryd thy Intrest in the Field,
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We had not thus thy Policies condemnd;
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But thought thee worthy of a Foe, or Friend:
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Both which, with equal Estimate thoult find,
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Were alwayes valud by an English Mind.
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But Thou of late, so Treacherous dost grow,
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That we should blush, to own thee either now.
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Base, and Perfidious too, thou dost appear;
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Slandrest a Pope, and spoylst an Emperor.
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What! is the Eagle from the Mitre flown?
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Is there of Caesar nothing left in Rome?
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Must that Renowned City, here-to-fore
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Famd for her Vertues, well as for her Powr;
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Instead of Consuls, Vagabonds imploy?
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And suborn Felons MONARCHS to Destroy?
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Bribe Men (thro Want made boldly desperate)
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To Fire-ball Cities, to their Grovling Fate;
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Whilst Hellish Jesuts Porters Garbs profane;
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Assist the Fire, and Bless the growing Flame!
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Must Romes Great Pope, whose Piety should run
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As an Example, thro all Christendome;
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Whose Signal Vertues, Arguments should be
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Of his Admird Infallability?
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Does he hire Ruffains, Justices to Kill;
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And send the Murdrers Pardons at his Will?
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Bids them in Hereticks Blood their Hands embrue;
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Tells them withal, Tis Meritorious too! ------
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If this thy Practice be, false Rome Fare-wel!---
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Go, Teach thy Doctrine to the Damnd in Hell!
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Where, by Black Lucifers Destructive Pride,
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Thou mayst in part thy Future Fate decide:
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Whilst from our City we thy Imps remove,
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To shake their Heels in some cold Field or Grove.
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Since both by Ours, and all Mens just Esteem,
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Theyre fitter to Converse with Beasts, than Men.
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