¶ Almightie God I pray, his Holy spirite to send:
The iust mannes hart stedfast to stay, and wicked liues to mend.
True tryall touchyng truth, time trimly here doth trye:
Except the Scribes therfore we passe in righteousnes, we dye.
Myndes many mooued bée, all truth to establysh:
Papes popish puft in Plutoes pride, all popery here doe wysh.
Voyde from them all good men, which godly be in mynde:
Sith Sathan assaileth some so sore, and styl their harts doth blynde.
Embrace and loue the Truth, on Christs syde stifly stand:
Deny the Pope Sathan the Turke, reiect them quite from hand.
And neuer wish in wyll, with wicked men t'agrée:
Xp̄e saith we can not their wayes hould, and eke his seruaunts be.
Reiect, and expell quite, that which displease God may:
Encline to Christ, the truth embrace, be sure thereon to stay.
Reioyce though Rigour raunge, and run for to obtayne:
Vpon thée persecution beare, great ioyes to haue agayne.
Muse nothyng on these dayes, but wey the time now frayle:
The tryed truth time vnder treades, in time truth wyl preuayle.
In time the wicked laugh, in time the iust lament:
Muse not therfore, the iust to trie, the Lordes wyl now is bent.
Employ thy wyll and mynd, to the Scriptures deuine:
Be not seduced in no wyse, from truth doe not decline.
Refuse (yf faith thou hast) a Christian dumme to bée:
Yelde out thy talent with encrease, and looke thy faith be frée.
No doubt yf dumme thou lurke, clokyng thy faith for feare:
God wyl thée plague, and to good men, thy faint faith wyl appeare.
Enclyne thine eare hereto, and this well vnderstand:
Trie out the sence hereof by truth, all wickednesse withstand.
Heauen with the Lorde of Lordes, we shall not inherite:
Except our righteousnes far passe the Scribe and hipocrite.
All wicked men we sée, now glorie much in mynd:
Lookyng for masse, an Idoll which to them hath ben full kynd.
Truely those naughtie men, thinke now within short time:
Here, for Iesus Christes true worde, to plant Sathans doctrine.
Yea styll they hope in déede, and styll looke for a day:
No doubt, Christs gospel to exclude, & popes lawes to beare sway.
God saue our noble Quéene, Lorde graunt this we requyre:
Emong vs here long shée may raigne, and cut short papes desyre.
Send out thy wrath (O Lorde) confound with open shame:
Those which in hart vnto her grace, long lyfe doe not proclaime.
Out pull those hatefull harts, which in spight rage and boyle:
Against thy truth, her grace, good men (O Lorde) y
u canst them foyle.
Nothyng but wickednesse, such in their hartes embrace,
Emong vs here although they say, and beare out a smooth face.
Now Lorde thy flocke defend, Lorde blesse thine heritage:
Direct thy spirit ouer vs all, in this our time and age.
Encourage vs against rageyng Sathan alway,
Quicken our myndes, strength vs herein, O Lorde to thée we pray:
Vouch safe eke on those men, thy heauenlie spirite to send,
O Lorde enspire them with thy grace, their erryng liues t'amend.
Destroy all errours here, illuminate their hart:
Call home all those which haue run wyde, to the truth them conuart.
Heale those which broken be (O Lorde I say) in mynd:
Reduce and bryng to thée in truth, all wicked Iewes vnkynd.
Infidels and eke Turkes, Paganes which know thée not:
So shall we all be to thée one inheritaunce and lot.
Tread vnder and suppresse all vice, and eke expell
Our hollow harted hipocrites, which loue not thy Gospell:
Put in their harts such grace (O Lorde) that they may now:
Hope in thée their eternall God, and to thée their hartes bow.
Euer to watch and pray, as thou hast taught the same:
Ready to be with oyle in lampe, heauen with thée to attaine.
VVée hopyng on thée thus, all vayne hope now confound:
In heauen w
t thée at length wyl we thy worthy praise forth sound.
Lorde graunt that we may raigne, in ioyes celestiall:
Such as wyl styl thy foes remaine, shall to paynes infernall.
O Lorde graunt this request, Lorde let thy kyngdome cum:
Now watch and pray we wyll, for whye?
Tempus edax rerum.
¶ FINIS.
(ꝙ) Christopher VVilson.
SOme hope you sée,
(The more pitie)
Not in the Lorde of might:
Whose harts and mynd,
His wayes should fynd,
To prayse him day and night.
¶ With hart and voyce,
They should reioyce,
Onely in Christ I say:
And not to hope,
To sée the Pope,
With his lawes to beare sway.
¶ Lament I doe,
Here to sée nowe,
The ioyes that some be in:
Wyshyng for Masse,
I say alas,
The cloke of filthy sin.
¶ I may here write,
And truth endite,
Affyrme plainely and say:
The worde of truth,
(The more is ruth)
Is sowne in stonie way.
¶ For all teachyng,
And true preachyng,
Some harts be hard as stéele:
There is no way,
Their harts to stay,
Or cause them truth to séele.
¶ But stoute they be,
In all Poperie,
As by this man doth séente:
Whose shamelesse face,
Put forth this case,
And bad his neighbours deme:
¶ Where best should be,
To make (ꝙ he)
An aulter for our Masse:
Let vs first be,
Herein (ꝙ he)
It wyll thus come to passe.
¶ This fréend of Popes,
Offred ten grotes,
This aulter there to make:
Where masse should be.
Haue here (ꝙ he)
This money mine here take.
¶ Lorde our Quéene saue,
We cry and craue,
In godlie state alway:
Defend her grace,
Long time and space,
Emong vs here we pray.
¶ Imprinted at London without Aldersgate, in little Britaine: by Alex. Lacy. The. 16. of August. 1566.