Aaron's Cry to Moses.

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HElp help (dear brother) lest the reeling Ark, (Our peoples Lanthorn) fall into the dark; Uzzahs there are, who promise to assist, And help the same with an unhallowed fist: But they increase it's totterings; therefore what Can you give better, then an Ararat? You know how long this Sacred pledg has slept, 'Mongst the Philistims, who per-force have kept This treasure; and would yet, but they were smitten, Bith' Emrods in the Rump; being thus bitten, Shoulders they shift: but 'tis our grief to see, No Temple for't, but Obeds Family. Our Mount is rail'd in by you; but this crue, Scorn's both your prohibitions, and you; 'Tis not the Lightnings, nor, the Clapps within Can check th' incroaching croud, from this fine sinne; Rather then in the Lobby stand, they'l venture Their lives; if they cannot, their tongues will enter. From AEgypts bonds you brought us, we confess: Through Seas of blood, and a vast wilderness, Of intricate opinions; but your power, By prudence shrouded, is thought on no more; That being lost, the peoples greater half Would have us offer to their molten Calf. My Children too, within my proper view, Are wrapt in Guilt; Nadah and Abihu Offer strange fire; when th'are obliged both, By a tremendous Sacrament an Oath Of due obedience; see, see even these, Become the peoples hot incendiaries. Nor am I less tormented by a number, Of Levies Tribe, who equally encumber Our concord; who because men of renown: Conclude themselves not up, 'less we be down; Th' accomplices of Korah, and Abiram Less dreadfull are, then those of Adoniram. Our Ephod they dislike, our Garments too; Because the Gentiles suchlike things allow; Our Mitres do cornute us, as they say; Our Pectorall is rifled in the fray; Urim, and Thummim only they have left us: And of all but our honesties bereft us. The rapine of these Vultures who needs tell? Th' are perch'd on Altars as a Cittadel; Our hallowed Mosques, their Harpy mawes devour, From th' highest Pinacle, unto the floor; Vomit 'em, they'l eject things more defil'd, Then Xerxes Souldier, or Throgmortons Child. There goes one strutting; ask you who it is? 'Tis one whose belly holds an aedifice: A mass of stone inter'd; o do not mock, The Church (you know) is builded on a Rock; But for to palliate this piece of folly, This weapon Salve cures all; oh! they were holy. Niobes Husband sure! his head the Steeple: The windowes are his eyes: and most good people Mistake his tongue for th' Bells: leggs, thighs, and all Compos'd of Pillars; feet their pedestall; All which by a new piece of Chymistry, Are calcin'd soon t' aurum potabile. In Summer season see how warm he goes, With freestone Doublet, and with Wainscot Hose; When he expires a thousand Tombes are pent, Within him; so he needs no Monument; We'd sent him had he not so quickly di'd, To Tripoly, where men are petrifi'd. Look where another goes, with Ribbs of Iron; Whom sacred barres, and bolts do all environ; Wherein (like Bajazet) there lies, despis'd, Encag'd, a Conscience sadly cauteriz'd.

All which will serve as Fetters, for to hold, The Malefactors self, gasping for Gold. A Carpenter, seeking for Achans wedg, Streight spies it in the sinne of sacriledg; A Guilded, Carved Roof, and Cherubs too: He'l not to them, but they to him must bow; Heavens roof hee'd use thus, could he but reach higher, To gain such fewell for his zeals mad fire. Then comes an Atlas, wrapt in Webbs of Lead; Which once were Canopies to skreen the dead; It is a ductile minerall; perchance Silver by art, may be extracted thence; Thus all into projectors turned be From th' learn'd to th' plumbeous cerebrosity. Blest in the vitreous humor of his eye, Comes next a man, of great transparency; Brittle as the Church-windowes, which he hurl'd, Into the dark, to make a lightsome world; The Saints, which th[?] stood obvious to our sight, His single courage, put [']em all to flight. Here Crucifi'd our Saviour seem'd to dye: He breaks his bones, and confutes Prophesie; There stood a Church, which out at th' window flew And in it the whole Apostolick crue; Onely the Traitor Judas dos go free; For 'twixt them there is some affinity. Thus cruell he, with a destructive Broome, Sweeps them into a second Martyrdome; 'Tis but new fashion'd kindness, you will say, Whilst he's their Charnel house, their Golgotha; The inquest's at an end: for here doth lye, One of the antient Anthropophagie. Long lookt for (see the rear) comes in at last: Who dos not like, therefore the Bells will cast; And make them ring too, their own dying knell An Ord'nance, into Ordnance, turns the Bell. Musick is out of date; but it may be, The strings may make such founders melody. Wonder to see what men, and time produce! Their bread, and clouted shooes procur'd a truce, Unto these Gibeonites, but now they take, Us for the Canaanites; for th' Socketts sake, They snuff our Candles: Vineyards prune for gain, As Caterpillars on green things remain. Thus have they ransackt every precious thing: That would but bear the charge of ruining; Like Spunges they have soakt: unlike in this They'l not refund: no Present present is: Twelve pence a piece: so justly may we dub, Their Contributions, but a Tavern club. This brood of envy, all things do displease; Our persons, office, and allowances; The firsts debauch'd: the next they do dislike: Because their waywardness it seeks to strike. The third is sinnefull too, for their lip-toil, Is not rewarded with the holy spoil. 'Tis known to all, how these same ravnous Kites, Mute on us still; the Churches hetroclites; Puft into what they hold by vulgar cries; A bundle of irregularities; A forge where discords Engines hammer'd are: Though Lambskins cover Targets made for Warre. They stir themselves to wrath, against us raile, As the Lion smites himself with his own taile; We're black, they white as the Arabian Crow: Or if it is not, they will have it so; So far we're honest, just, and godly men, As we connive at, or encourage them. When we these crimes before them do display, They brook't, as Vagabonds, a lab'ring day.

And lest our Canons, should their vices batter, They them dismount, and us with filth bespatter; We're half of what they say, on our side due: Padington long has wanted toll that's true. If we acquaint them with their lofty pride, Tell them of avarice, all is deni'd; Tax them with sacriledgsacriledge, and perjury, With Neighbours wrongs, and a cold charity: Informe them they have hurt, misled the Nation; These spots they cleans, by a recrimination. Tell them they op'd the sluce, at which flow'd in, That deluge of apostasie, and sinne, Heresie, schism, and blasphemy withall, That Oglio, of things Apocryphall; Tell this; to Heav'n their guiltless hands they'l lift So vain it is, to bring them to their shrift. They lige the Chineses, enlightned are; Whilst we alas! are but monocular; In all their guts, a Popedome sure doth lye: They onely have infallibility; Whilst we poor Moles lye groveling in the clay Gaping for lustre, from their brighter ray. Nor are they more at odds, with truth then peace; With them 'tis dolorous to lye at ease; Seditious discourses nowadaies. Gives a brave hogo to their Pulpit plaies; "Such men are slender wing'd, who do not flye, "And nestle, in the beard of Majesty. Fear God they may; and honour too the King: But not without the nice distinguishing, Of duty into nothing; such another, Is he who loves his God, and hates his Brother; Humane decrees to own, they are not free, Rather they'l adde to th' Martyrologie. Nothing but Scripture, o're them can commence An awfull, and observant reverence, And yet I've heard them, for their servants call To works, for which there is no rule at all; Both have their generall Charter, suffrag'd by, The dictates of divine authority; These are the rabbles Champions, who do throw, Coales from the Altar, to incense below Th' unkindled croud; that so their sullen cries, Might smoak the clearnesse of your Soveraign eyes. Late politicks teach, 'tis a way to get, To be a victim for the peoples pet. And is't not time (great Sir,) to call, when these Foment the multitudes dark jealousies? Yourself, with their squint treachery is prest: For through our sides, they wound your Royall brest; And shall we when our bowels gnaw'd we see Like Spartas youth, endure all silently? No, no; our duty calls, as well as smart, Our sufferings from our troublers to impart; Titus ne're sent Petitioners away, With furrowed fronts: nor you, as we hear say, Who live remote; we begg, your cause beggs too, Speedy assistance, from your Princely brow. Nothing else will that party gratifie, Unless with Jethros counsell you comply; And take a rule divided; when you pare, From your own loaf, these underlings may share; Whilst we this theorem, for certain give: Our priviledge, is your Prerogative Our whole request's for your encouragement, To execute our wholesome Laws intent; Thus shall that Ark, which scap't the inundation, Avoid that sorely threatned, conflagration; Your Scepter thrives, whilst on our rod you breath And our corrivals wear the Willow wreath. Philanax Anglophilus.

Printed in the Year 1661.