Carmen in Serenissimae Reginae ELI­ZABETHAE Natalitia, Classem Hispanicam ab ipsa devictam, & Conspirationem Papisticam Anti­quam & Modernam.

MAtres, atque viri, pueri, juvenesque, senesque,
Septenam decimam (que) diem celebrate Novem­bris.
Haec est illa dies etenim pulcherrima quondam,
Qua primum Populis fulsit nova Stella Britannis.
Anglica qua Debora, suae laus inclyta terrae,
Nata fuit, primasque hausit qua luminis auras,
Cujus vita salus fuit & tutela Piorum,
Papicolis terrorque feris; namque illa rebelles,
Dum tentant subitis Regnum vastare ruinis,
Sub Juga dat, mortemque pati compellit acerbam.
Nomine dicta fuit, divino Numine, vero
Regina Elizabetha alto de sanguine Regum,
Quae juga de nostro excussit servilia collo.
Elizabetha sonat, mihi dat Deus ipse quietem:
Illa dedit Patriae requiem, Christo auspice, Terrae.
Nam requies aberat, Mariâ regnante maligna,
In quorum subiere locum terrorque, dolorque
Anxius, & variae, facto velut agmine, curae.
Dum regit haec Patriae furia infernalis habenas,
Quot data sunt rapidis sanctorum corpora slammis?
Quantaque sanguineos animam expiravit in ignes
Turba hominum, quos illa debit sine crimine morti?
Delicias risusque dabant huic fata Piorum,
Dum foedat misera pietatis ovile ruina:
Tam sitiens sancti fuit illa cruoris hirudo.
At simul in Patrias foelix successit▪ habenas
Elizabetha, piis, tanquam de morte resurgant,
Vita redit, laetoque implent regnum undique plausu.
Visaque sunt placidas Jus & Pax jungere dextras.
Vana Superstitio cadit, atque Idola Papismi
Undique sunt cunctas regni destructa per urbes.
Tunc & Evangelij lux est erecta beati,
Semper inextinctis radiis quae huc usque refulsit.
Nam tanquam clypeo Dominus protexerat illam,
Ne furor inferne posset restinguere sedis.
Quod modo vera loquar, mentes adhibete, probabo.
Dum tenet Haec Patriae Princeps moderamina terrae;
Hispanus Classe ingenti, quae Armada vocatur,
Exitium crudele Anglis clademque minatur:
Tendit iter, velisque implet Neptunia regna
Carbaseis, vastumque cava trabe contegit aequor:
Bello inhians, Anglis (que) manum committere gaudens.
Concurrunt igitur simul Angla Hispanaque Classis.
Mox Boreas in bella ruens, Eurusque, Notusque,
Hispanis fera fata parant, mortemque tremendam,
Quamprimum incipiunt Naves confligere, at illi
Fractarum innumeris ratium periere ruinis.
Ast contra flabris Anglis favere secundis.
O nimium dilecta Deo, tibi Christus in altum
Fuderat armatas hyemes, tibi militat Aether,
Et conjurati veniuntad Classica venti.
Sic classem late ingentem Deus obruit ingens:
Mergunturque alii in fluctus, aliique vorantur
Ignibus, & subita rapiuntur in AEthera flamma.
Hispanus cecinit, nondum victa hoste, triumphum:
Tu, Quae Pontificum voluisti spernere leges,
Hispano tua colla jugo submittere disces.
Sed stulte tumefactus erat, spemque hausit inanem.
[Page] Coguntur victi Hispani succumbere bello;
Laeta redit Spoliis Regina insignis opimis.
Illa igitur cecinit, verum victo hoste, triumphum:
Tu, qui Divinax voluisti spernere Leges,
Faemineo tua colla jugo submittere disces.
Sic Patriae eximiis peperit decus illa Trophaeis.
Rursus ut in Solio residens Jacobus avito
Jura dat, & Populi moderatur fraena Britanni.
Nequitiam Commenta fuit Papistica turba
Horribilem, sed quae detecta in tempore, facta est
Irrita, successuque caret fraus dira secundo.
Jam ferme fax dira simul cum sulphure juncta est:
Mox dominus Deus ipse facem cum sulphure nudat.
Consilium Papista suae & molimina sectae
Detexit, non sponte sua, sed numine ductus.
Tunc patuit, quam dira suo cum corde volutent;
Ut Regem, proceresque, simul cum sede senatus,
Opprimeret subitae praeceps violentia flammae.
Hujus ab incauta pervenit Epistola dextra,
Quae Capta est, regique data est, fraudemque retexit.
Haec, Jacobus ait, minitatur Epistola vulnus:
Hoc certe innuitur, nisi fallor, vulnere Sulphur.
Tunc terrae in mediis manus est scrutata cavernis
Sedula; sulphurei late hic spectantur acervi.
Ergo, aliis somno tacita sub nocte sepultis,
Rex jubet ipse suos circum sua tecta Ministros.
Pervigiles remanere: Illi sub nocte sopora
Cum vigilant, hominem funesta ad munera missum
Prospectant, prope jam venientem; & protinus illum
Comprendunt, manibusque tenent. Sic Arbiter Orbis
Avertit capiti tam dira pericula nostro.
Sed Pater Omnipotens iterum nova gaudia nobis
Attulit, atque iterum rapuit de morte propinqua.
Nuper enim antiquo Papistica Turba furore
Correpta est, atque arma piis mortemque minatur.
Anglica jam subitis involvere regna ruinis
Ecce parant, juvenesque, senesque exscindere ferro,
Et Pueros cum Matre simul; plateasque rigare
Caedibus, & cunctas implere cruore lacunas:
Neglecto aetatis simul & discrimine sexus.
Sed Deus hanc nobis ipso in conaminc fraudem
Prodidit, & subitae avertit mala fata ruinae.
Ergo Alacres gaudete simul, cantate triumphum;
Carminibus Dominum super Aethera tollite Christum.
Luce epulas facitote, pyrasque in tempore noctis
Extruite, & noctem flammis incendia vincant.
Nam neque te puduit, Rex O Sanctissime David!
Laetitiae dare signa tuae pede, carmine, vultu.
Exultate igitur: jugulo namque ensis acerbus
Admotus fuerat: Dominus mox depulit illum.
Nunc vester ferlat radiantia sydera clamor;
Laetificisque sonis late respondeat Echo:
Multaque magnificae proferte insignia Pompae:
Inter & innumeros sint haec spectacla paratus:
Sanguineum rapidis Papam committite flammis;
Cui domus est, magnae sublimia moenia Romae;
Septem quae una sibi muro circumdedit arces.
Corpora Sanctorum in putres dilapsa ruinas,
Ignibus immeritis, vidit Smithfeldia sed jam
Adspiciat meritis Papam nunc ignibus ustum.
(OUtinam subito flammis absentibus absens
Ardeat; in fumosque fluat consumptus inanes!)
Atque illi aeternae fiat haec praeludia flammae.

A Song upon the Birth▪day of Queen ELIZABETH, the Spanish Ar­mado▪ the Gun-Powder-Treason, and the Late Popish Plot.

LEt Protestants with thankful hearts remember
This Royal day, the seventeenth of November.
This is the day wherein that Glorious Star
Did first in Englands Horizon appear:
When Englands Deborah drew her first breath,
Whose Life was life to Protestants, and death
To Popish Rebels, stirr'd up by the Devil,
To work in England much mischief and evil.
I mean ELIZABETH, that Noble Queen,
Who us from Popish Bondage did redeem.
Observe her Name; by Providence of Heaven
A Name Prophetical, to her was given.
Elizabeth imports, God is my Rest.
She Protestants reliev'd, that were opprest.
When Bloudy Mary Reign'd, no rest was then
From sorrow, trouble, anguish, grief and pain.
What Havock made she in the Church, what slaugh­ter?
The bloud of Saints to her was mirth and laughter.
How many Saints were martyr'd in the flames,
When of the Government she held the Reins?
But when ELIZABETH came in her stead,
'Twas like a Resurrection from the Dead.
Then Joy and Gladness ran down like a River,
Then Peace and Truth did sweetly kiss each other.
She profligated Popery, and threw down
Baal's Altars to the ground in every Town,
And did erect the Gospel Truth and Light,
The splendour whereof ever since shin'd bright.
Heaven like a Shield hath compass'd it about,
When Hell hath often strove to puff it out.
VVhich I will evidently make appear,
Then hearken with attention and give ear.
While yet this Noble Queen sate on the Throne,
The Spaniards Hatched Mischief, came upon
Her Majesty, with all their great Armado,
Threatning the English with a proud Bravado:
Their Sails o'respread the Seas, their Ships do cover
The VVaters of the deep, they passed over.
Now when the Spanish and the English Fleet,
Together in the boistrous Seas did meet:
Against the Spanish God stretcht out his hand,
The several Winds came forth at his Command;
Both East and West, both South and Northern Wind,
Against the Spanish Forces were combin'd;
So that the Ships fell foul of one another,
Then they were sadly bruis'd and broke together:
Both Ships and Men i'th' Sea were overturned,
And what the Waters spared, the Fireships burned,
Thus God gave her a Glorious Victory,
And brought his People out of Jeopardy.
The foolish Spaniard did the Triumph sing
Before the Victory: a senseless thing!
Thou, said the Spaniard, That Popes Laws didst break,
Ʋnto the Spanish Yoke shalt yield thy Neck;
But he was vainly puft up, and his hope
Attain'd not unto its designed scope.
[Page] The Spanish Fleet was beat, and put to flight,
For God Almighty did for England fight.
Then she more wisely did the Triumph sing,
When God to her the Victory did bring.
Thou, said she, That Gods Holy Laws did break,
Ʋnto a Womans Yoke shalt yield thy Neck.
Thus she from War with great Applause returned,
When most o'th' Spanish Fleet were drown'd or burn­ed.
In Royal James his days another Plot,
Was by the Jesuitish Heads begot;
It had almost come to the birth, and then
It was miscarried, and so proved vain.
The Match and Train had well nigh come together;
But then God did both Match and Train discover.
A Papist did this Popish Plot disclose,
Though sore against his will, and did expose,
Through Gods good Providence, that Curst Design,
The King and Parliament to undermine.
He sent a Letter which was intercepted,
And brought to th' King, so was the Craft detected.
This Letter, said wise James, foretells a Blow,
This Blow is Powder; I conjecture so:
So Search was made i' th' bowels of the Ground;
And there great heaps of sulphurous dust were found.
So Watch was kept; and while they watch, they spy
A Messenger of Hell come very nigh,
With Match in hand, with purpose and desire,
To set the Train and Powder all on Fire:
But they laid hands on him, and held him fast:
Thus did our God that Hellish Purpose blast.
But now God hath a new Deliverance wrought,
When we had been into new dangers brought.
Again the Popish Crew were set on fire
Of Hell, the Devil did their Souls inspire,
With Curst Designs, to rise i' th' night and kill;
Of bloud of Protestants to drink their fill.
To slay both Young and Old, like savage beasts,
To slay the suckling at the Mothers Breasts,
To make the Streets run down with bloud, to fire
The Houses; this was their vile hearts desire;
But God in time this wickedness prevented,
And brought to light the mischiefs they invented.
Rejoyce therefore, and Songs of Triumph sing
To Jesus Christ our Everlasting King.
Make Feasts i' th' day; make Bonfires in the Night;
O'recome the darksome shades with flaming light.
King David thought no shame to dance for joy,
That God sav'd him, and did his foes destroy.
Joy ye likewise: The Sword was at your Throat,
And then God brought to light that Devilish plot.
Let joyful Echoes then abroad resound,
And with loud Acclamations rend the ground;
And pierce the Skies with Crys, and testifie
Your joyfulness, with curious Pageantry.
And when you make Triumphant Shews, therein
Burn up the Cursed Pope, that Man of Sin,
Who doth upon the Seven Mountains dwell,
Burn him with Flames, and parboyl him for Hell.
Up Protestants; repay the Pope his due,
And do to him as he hath done to you.
In Smithfield Flames Saints were to Ashes turned,
In Smithfield Flames this day let him be burned.
FINIS.

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