Englands Gentle Admonition: OR, A Warning-Piece to all Sinners.
From hateful Pride see thou thy heart keep clear,
From Covetousness Instruct thy Brother dear;
In Innocent Blood be sure thou have no hand,
The Holy Scriptures the same doth us command.
The Tune is, Poor Toms Progress: Or, John Dory sould his ambling Nag for Kick-shaws.
GOod People all I pray draw near,
And to these Lines a while give ear;
For I purpose now to declare
poor Englands Misery:
And the true cause of these our Woes,
I unto you will here disclose,
The Lord Convert poor Englands Foes
from Envy.
But many are now so Wicked grown,
The Scriptures true they will not own;
For Charity is little shown
in these our Sinful Days:
That the Poor in streets may starve and die
Yet Wicked Pride is mounted high,
And poor content doth a bleeding lye,
more pitty.
But Extortion bears so great a sway,
It brings all Trading to Decay;
Which makes the Poor cry out and say
have pitty Lord with speed:
Both Rich and Poor we all do cry
To thee O Lord, that sits on High,
Defend us from Blood Tyranny,
in Mercy.
The Gospel pure O Lord defend,
We have none else to stand our Friend;
Therefore thy helping hand down send,
that it may flourish still:
In spight of Jew, of Turk or Pope,
O Lord in thee is all our hope,
To let the Gospel have full Scope
in England,
That neither Pagan, Turk or Jew,
Or any of their Wicked Crew,
Have Power our Kingdom to subdue,
but stand in our defence:
Forsake us not in our distress,
But pardon Lord our Wickedness,
And turn us Lord as thou thinks best
in Mercy.
The Second Part,
To the same Tune.
For too many have we in this Land,
That plays their Game so under hand;
It is hard for all to understand
the full intent they have
To bring us all to grief and woe,
Church-Government to overthrow,
O Lord above thy Mercy shew
to England.
It is hateful Pride and deadly Sin,
Which daily we do all run in,
God doth these judgements on us bring,
as a Warning-piece to all:
Therefore let all good Christians pray,
Vnto the Lord both Night and Day,
That he would turn his Wrath away
from England.
What hateful Sin can any name,
Is not in England to our shame,
A daily practice made in fame,
yet few doth strive to mend:
If God do not us Mercy shew,
But down his judgements on us throw,
When it is too late we all shall know
our Folly.
So many Sects now in England are,
We all stand need to have a care,
That we be not catcht within the Snare
of that Rebellious Crew:
That would both King and State destroy,
The Church and England to annoy,
But God I hope will turn their joy
to Mourning.
The Innocent blood God would defend,
If we would our sinful Lives but mend,
And Night and Day on God attend,
by Prayer we may obtain
What ever we desire to have,
What Tongue can speak or heart can crave,
If we repent we may receive
his Mercy.
The Lord preserve our gracious King,
And rule his heart in every thing,
And at the last to Heaven him bring,
where Glorious Angels be:
The Commonalty O Lord defend,
Convert us Lord our Lives to mend,
That we may make a faithful End,
unto thee.
Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, and J. Clarke.