TRUTH FLATTERS NOT: PLAINE DEALING THE BEST.
Lively demonstrating the true Effigies, life, and habite, of a selfe-exalting Clergie; noted down in English and Roman Characters, easily spelled and construed by a meane capacity.
The wife its truth well knowes,
The ignorant may learne,
The guilty snuffes his nose,
And prickt, thereat will spurne.
search the ♡ and try the reines יהוה
‘I exalt the humble and bringe downe the proud looke’Learne of me to be meake and lo [...]v [...]ie
a silly rubb precher
If my cap my uesture too
1. POPE.
WHo will have honours, and renown resort to me,
Riches, and Honour, is my Gown and Livery.
The World well know my Servants grow great Potentates,
Though busie wights, their force unites, to work their fates.
Who shall my holy Lawes observe, and Church obey,
A dwelling place in Heaven shall have, or Hell for aye.
2. PRELATE.
Your proffers faire, and promise large, if they were true,
Your oath, and promise, once discharge, give me my due;
And helpe me now, who beares for you so much disgrace,
Mock, scorn, and flout, yea casting out, of name and place.
If this be Heaven, or entrance in, where they shall dwell,
Who loves, obeyes your Church and Lawes, what place is Hell.
3. PRIEST.
I hate the Pope, his poysoned cup, and trinkets all.
The Bishops deeds, and Romish weeds, to me are gall.
Yet well I know, what Layickes owe unto our Coat,
Reverence all way, good livings pay, is our just lot.
Sects and unlearned, up-start Jackes doth us defraud,
Who to our shame, our power and name, have over-aw'd.
4. TRVTH.
Your bitter seeds, ambitious deeds, declares your heart,
On such ill weedes, eagerly feedes; a Spirit tart.
Wealth, Rule, and Fame, hath such a name, with you obtain'd,
What's taught, or worn, may well be borne, if those be gain'd,
Throw off that cap, let drop that bagge, put up that sword,
Learn of me to be meeke and low, preach free this word.
The wise all-seeing, glorious Majesty,
Beholds each Action, Plot, Conspiracie,
That sinfull men contrive, against him, and his,
Laughes them to scorn, but crownes his Saints with blisse.
The Pope in state, presents a poysoned Cup,
The Bishop's foyled by a poysoned sup;
Ambition nere his place, hath raised another,
By gesture, cap and face, a larding Brother.
The Sword and Bishops Casp he will approve,
The other Robes his patience much doth move,
They'r known for Papal, and he's very loath
To eat their meat, yet liketh well the broath:
He's whispered in the eare, that Gold will make him,
Whose rich growes great, honours still overtake him,
Whilest simple Truth in thred-bare garments goe,
Ey'd with a scorn, and geered by her Foe.
Thus temporizing with his wind-turn'd braine,
Fanticies that best, which most is for his gaine
Purs from him that, which should him better teach,
Indow with wisdome, riches, power, to preach;
Verity hates the worlds vaine wayes and toyes,
They down are hurl'd, their sight her soule annoyes,
She reads, learns, leads, the way to God above,
His live, her move, to live in peace and love.
Jmprimatur, G. M.
LONDON, Printed by J. Coe, 1647.