A new proclamation: or a warning peece against all blasphemers, ranters, Quakers, and shakers; both men and women: who goe up and down teaching, that imbracing ungodlinesse, and worldly lusts, they should live unsoberly, unrighteously, ungodly.

A Word to the RANTERS, who goe up and down teaching men and women, that imbracing ungodlineſs, and worldly luſts, they ſhould live unſoberly, unrighteouſly, ungodly in this preſent World. O Land! how doth thy Church to ruine run, By Schiſmes broken, and by Sects undone! O how they ſwarm! no age could ever tell A brood too monſtrous for their parallell. Freedome of conſcience! rid us from this thrall Of ſpirit, and the yoke Epiſcopall; This once was all the cry, and this we ſee As quickly turn'd to fleſhly liberty. Each now will pleaſe himſelf, and things deviſe Right in his own, wrong in his Makers eyes. Things 'tis a ſhame to ſpeak, things that do call For ruine, or repentance generaell: 〈1 page duplicate〉〈1 page duplicate〉 If we our ſins like Sodome do declare, Without repentance let's expect their fare. Speak out ye Jewes, what loſſe your land befell By ſuffring of one curſed Jezabel, By winking at, if nor approving much Her wicked waits; we have an hundred ſuch, Who act her ſins, and to encreaſe the tale Have furn • ſh'd out and rigg'd a thouſand ſail Of new, unheard of ſins, that near before Durſt venture landing on our Britiſh ſhore: Oh, that a man unto himſelf dare's tie The title of eternall Majeſty, And ſay hee's God! this I a ſin may call The Devill ne'er was chargeable withall. Oh, that a worme, a man ſhould dare t'advance Himſelf above a heavenly ordinance! What? equall with thy Maker? none but he Can claim ſuch Independent liberty; The Devill himſelf dares not, but ſtoops and ſtands, Riſeth, and goes as Heavens King commands. Oh, that a man ſhould offer to caſt off That yoke that Chriſt cals eaſie, make a ſcoffe At Goſpell precepts, and put on the face To make a ſing-ſong at the means of grace! Were ſuch conditions to the Devils ſent, Would they reject them? ſure they would repent. Oh, that a man ſhould curſe, ſwear, whore, and cry, 'Tis a delight to Heavens Majeſty! The Devill durſt ne'er declaim on ſuch a theme, To prove it pure religion to blaſpheme. Oh, that a man ii ſin ſhould take his ſwing, And mock at judgement, ſay there's no ſuch thing! The Devill dares not, will not this denay, But trembles and beleeves a Judgement day. Oh, that a man dares call without all fear, Gods precepts, bondage, and his Law ſevere; The Devill ne'er Gods Lawes durſt dare to fame Illegall, though a rebell to the ſame. O wofull England! who e're thought to ſee Such wretches born, and monſters bred in thee! But are there any ſuch? Yea, ſuch are theſe Ranters, or Rakehels, call them which you pleaſe. A Ranter! what is he? one that lives in All wickedneſſe, and ſaith he cannot ſin: Hee's one that bluſheth not, but in the light Declares his ſin like to a Sodomite. Hee's one that ſaith there's neither Heaven nor Hell, Prepared for a Saint or Infidell: He ſpurnes the Bible, and he doth deny To Chriſt his kingly Soveraignty. His Ordinances and his Lawes ſo juſt, He barks at theſe, becauſe they bite his luſt: To holineſſe and Goſpell walking he Equals the Devill for an enemy. Hee'l ſwear, and curſe, and drink, and hath the face To boaſt of theſe as Characters of Grace: When he blaſphemes the moſt, he dares expreſſe That God doth act him in his wickedneſſe. Hee's one that would all civill right deſtroy, And turn all to a ſtrange community, With each mans intereſt hee'l have to doe, His goods, his wife, his maid, and daughter too. Hee's one that hath attain'd the high'ſt degree In Satans Schoole, Hels Univerſitie. Forgetting God this wretch becometh then The pride of Devils, and the ſhame of men. When he and his fraternity do meet, 'Twould make a man amaz'd to hear them greet, With woulds, and bloud, thou devill, dog, thou whore, This is their language, and a deal ſuch more: Theſe ſalutations paſt, they do not fail To call for Wine, Tobacco, Beer and Ale; Theſe being the ſpirits they'r inſpir'd by, Half drunk, half mad, each hath his propheſie: A firſt ſtands up and doth relate That he from Heaven is ſent, To cry down both in Church and State, All formes, and government. Pack Miniſters and Magiſtrates, We will have no ſuch things, We Ranters are ſole Potentates, Both Prophets, Prieſts, and Kings. There is no ſin, another cries, This thing call'd righteouſneſse, Is but a trick that ſome deviſe, Our freedome to ſuppreſſe. Then let's be free, in jollitrie Let all our time be ſpent; Hee's but a Daw, that ſtands in awe Of a Commandement. There is no Hell, another cries, This is a fancy cleare; Nor is there any place of joyes Call'd Heaven but what is here; Then let's dance round and tear the ground, And gig it whileſt we may, We will not fear, although we hear Tales of a judgement day. Thus they proceed in ſpeaking till each one Hath told his helliſh revelation. When theſe are paſt, then to ſuch pranks they fall As if there were indeed no Judge at all, No ear to hear, no eye that e're diſcries Their ſordid words, and foul adulteries. 'Tis ſhame to tell what theſe both doe, and ſay Not in a ſecret, but an open way. Here's dancing, tumbling, ſwearing, as there were No men, nor women, but all Devils there; No God, no good, no ſin, no hell, no bliſſe, O tremble heaven, and hell, and earth at this! And tremble Ranters, tremble at your ſtate, And ſee your ſin before it be too late: Naked before the Lord your folly lies, You cannot cheat him with your Mysteries, Nor yet the world, for all men now conclude, The Atheiſt reigns in all your multitude. I. F. FINIS.