[...]
[...] church is that [...] stone
[...] al filth and stinch doth smel very strong.
The Angel therefore cryeth to old and yong,
Saying: come away frō her my people spedely,
Least ye be partakers of the beastes iniquity.
For this is euen she, whych wt her fornication,
Hath made almost all princes commit adultery,
And eke hath made thē dronke wt her superstition
Wherby she hath got vp to great authority.
The blood of gods saints, she dranke plentifully.
Therfore as vengeāce to you she hath shewed,
Double to her againe let the same be repayed.
Pul down her shop of wares, wherbi she hath got
Al the treasures on earth, and ruled the same,
Both Emperours & Kings this beast spared not,
But placed and displaced, as pleased thys Dame.
Therfore shal God now descry her whole shame,
And eke pul down her shop of marchandise,
With al her marchants, which therby did rise.
Wherfore O ye Marchants of ye Romish Babell,
Weepe, howle, and wyle, for neare is your fall,
The blood of Gods saintes for vengeāce crieth fel
And God now in wrath on you poure it shall.
Come away form her therfore Gods people all,
Least ye be partakers of her plagues and euyll
And so in fire & brimston be burnt wt the deuyl.
[...]
Emprors & Kings with many a great kingdom [...].
Entend to destroy vs, and haue no remorce.
Behold here our shop which enriched our purse,
How it to ruine begynneth to fall.
For ye top thei haue brokē, & down thei wil haue all.
Our pardōs & relickes which was our beginning
Is nought now regarded, and found all but lyes,
Our masses & dirgies which kept vs aloft raining
Are now not beleued, but al folke them despise.
The Lutherans at these did first enterprise,
And at thē so pulled, yt the top they haue broken
Of our hie steple, which the same doth betoken
And now ye Hugonites, wt the Beggers together,
With al force they may are pulling at the rest,
Which is our authority, and punishment seuere,
And eke our stout ruling from East vnto West.
Thus al these three at our church before prest,
To shew their great power in pulling it down
Which out out alas, wyll be done to to soone.
Wherfore O romish Babilō, we now the bemone
And also our own selues which liued by thee.
Now wringing our hands, we wepe, sigh & grone
For this our destruction which draweth so nye.
[...]n nations now playnly our falshood do spy,
And our great cruelty they do so detest,
That til we be destroyed they wil not be at rest
¶Imprinted at London by Iohn Awdeley / dwelling in litle [...]taine streete wythout [...]. The .xvii. of August. 1566