Sir,
That All-Majesty (from whom you take
Your Heaven-Anointed Scepter) for whose sake
You drink the Dregs of Bitternesse, which turns
Your Crown of Glory, to a Crown of Thornes;
View'd sinfull Sodom, Sodom that offended
Even him, as we do you, that vilely blended
His gracious Promises, did wrest his Powers,
And violate his Laws, as we do yours;
Yet urg'd by him whose Zeal brookt no denyal,
Would have sav'd all, if ten were found but loyal.
Great Prince , to whom the Breath of Heaven hath read
The Principles of Mercy, in whose stead
You sit as God to punish, or to spare,
Whose equal Hand can ruine, or repair
Our staggering Fortunes. Pity, and behold
Rebellious Essex ! People now grown old
In Dis-obedience, who deserv'dly stand
Like Calves, expecting Death from your Just hand.
'Twas we that bleated first Rebellion out,
Who being Pulpit-led, not apt to doubt
Our Lecturing Zealots, and but green in reason,
Were made too wise, and frighted into Treason :
We are a Cock-brain'd Multitude, a Rabble
Of all Religions, and we daily squabble
About vain shades, and let the substance passe,
Hating good Manners as we hate the Masse;
Our new discretions every day convince,
Our old Rebellions, 'gainst so mild a Prince
Were scarcely fixt, but a fresh Ordinance comes,
And damns our Conscience into deeper Sums;
Breaks ope our Houses, Rifles all our Stuff,
Nay more, as if we had not yet enough,
Plunders our very wits; nay if we do
Shew but a sorry shrug, Malignants too;
That in so much our, people now obeys
As many Tyrants as the Year hath dayes:
But we have ten, ten, ten times multiply'd,
And thousands more to that, which have deny'd
To bend their knees to Baal , whereof some lye
Cloystered in Grates, where they unpittied, cry
For Superannuated Crusts, and there remain,
Even taking Gods and Charles his Name in vain:
Some scorning to be aw'd by Subjects, fled
From their dear Wives and Children ; led
Like Theeves to Gaols , saluted with the Curse
Of every Dunghill scurfe, with durt and worse,
Where they are sadly, but yet dearly fed,
Some ag'd, some weak, some dying, and some dead:
For their dear sake (great Charles ) they undertake
Deaths willing Martyrdome, for Charles his sake;
Be gracious to their County, let her know
That she, a miserable Land, doth owe
Her sweet Redemption to their Congruous merit,
And least they'le abjure what now they scarce inherit,
Let that accustom'd Sun-shine of your Eye
Enrich her soyle, that she may still out-vye
Her Neighbouring Shires, & let that brand which now
She wears, be set on th' Epidemick brow;
And let the Loyal Gentry still be known
By this firm Mark from the perfidious Clown;
Let them, like treacherous slaves, be alwaies bound
To pay Rack-rents, and only Till the ground;
Let neither them nor their base off-spring dare
To be so rich as buy a Purchase there.
Dread Soveraign,
Forgive, Forget, Remember, and Relent,
Resemble him you so much represent,
And when pleas'd Heavens shall set thy Scepter free,
Triumph in him , and wee'll triumph in thee .
That All-Majesty (from whom you take
Your Heaven-Anointed Scepter) for whose sake
You drink the Dregs of Bitternesse, which turns
Your Crown of Glory, to a Crown of Thornes;
View'd sinfull Sodom, Sodom that offended
Even him, as we do you, that vilely blended
His gracious Promises, did wrest his Powers,
And violate his Laws, as we do yours;
Yet urg'd by him whose Zeal brookt no denyal,
Would have sav'd all, if ten were found but loyal.
Great Prince , to whom the Breath of Heaven hath read
The Principles of Mercy, in whose stead
You sit as God to punish, or to spare,
Whose equal Hand can ruine, or repair
Our staggering Fortunes. Pity, and behold
Rebellious Essex ! People now grown old
In Dis-obedience, who deserv'dly stand
Like Calves, expecting Death from your Just hand.
'Twas we that bleated first Rebellion out,
Who being Pulpit-led, not apt to doubt
Our Lecturing Zealots, and but green in reason,
Were made too wise, and frighted into Treason :
We are a Cock-brain'd Multitude, a Rabble
Of all Religions, and we daily squabble
About vain shades, and let the substance passe,
Hating good Manners as we hate the Masse;
Our new discretions every day convince,
Our old Rebellions, 'gainst so mild a Prince
Were scarcely fixt, but a fresh Ordinance comes,
And damns our Conscience into deeper Sums;
Breaks ope our Houses, Rifles all our Stuff,
Nay more, as if we had not yet enough,
Plunders our very wits; nay if we do
Shew but a sorry shrug, Malignants too;
That in so much our, people now obeys
As many Tyrants as the Year hath dayes:
But we have ten, ten, ten times multiply'd,
And thousands more to that, which have deny'd
To bend their knees to Baal , whereof some lye
Cloystered in Grates, where they unpittied, cry
For Superannuated Crusts, and there remain,
Even taking Gods and Charles his Name in vain:
Some scorning to be aw'd by Subjects, fled
From their dear Wives and Children ; led
Like Theeves to Gaols , saluted with the Curse
Of every Dunghill scurfe, with durt and worse,
Where they are sadly, but yet dearly fed,
Some ag'd, some weak, some dying, and some dead:
For their dear sake (great Charles ) they undertake
Deaths willing Martyrdome, for Charles his sake;
Be gracious to their County, let her know
That she, a miserable Land, doth owe
Her sweet Redemption to their Congruous merit,
And least they'le abjure what now they scarce inherit,
Let that accustom'd Sun-shine of your Eye
Enrich her soyle, that she may still out-vye
Her Neighbouring Shires, & let that brand which now
She wears, be set on th' Epidemick brow;
And let the Loyal Gentry still be known
By this firm Mark from the perfidious Clown;
Let them, like treacherous slaves, be alwaies bound
To pay Rack-rents, and only Till the ground;
Let neither them nor their base off-spring dare
To be so rich as buy a Purchase there.
Dread Soveraign,
Forgive, Forget, Remember, and Relent,
Resemble him you so much represent,
And when pleas'd Heavens shall set thy Scepter free,
Triumph in him , and wee'll triumph in thee .