**** ROTATE **** **** ROTATE **** **** ROTATE **** **** ROTATE ****

Find this Story

Print, a form you can hold

Wireless download to your Amazon Kindle

Look for a summary or analysis of this Poem.

Enjoy this? Share it!

PAGE 2

A Dialogue between Old England And New; concerning their present Troubles
by [?]

But yet I answer not what you demand
To shew the grievance of my troubled Land?
Before I tell the Effect I’le shew the Cause,
Which are my sins, the breach of sacred Laws,
Idolatry, supplanter of a nation,
With foolish Superstitious Adoration,
Are liked and countenanced by men of might
The gospel trodden down and hath no right;
Church offices were sold and bought for gain,
That Pope had hoped to find Rome here again;
For Oaths and Blasphemies did ever Ear
From Belzebub himself such language hear?
What scorning of the saints of the most high,
What injuries did daily on them lye,
What false reports, what nick-names did they take
Not for their own but for their Master’s sake?

And thou, poor soul, wert jeer’d among the rest,
Thy flying for the truth was made a jest
For Sabbath-breaking, and for drunkenness,
Did ever loud profaneness more express?
From crying blood yet cleansed am not I,
Martyrs and others, dying causelessly.
How many princely heads on blocks laid down
For nought but title to a fading crown!
‘Mongst all the crueltyes by great ones done,
Of Edward’s youths, and Clarence hapless son,
O Jane, why didst thou dye in flow’ring prime?
Because of royal stem, that was thy crime.
For bribery, Adultery and lyes,
Where is the nation I can’t parallize?
With usury, extortion and oppression,
These be the Hydraes of my stout transgression.
These be the bitter fountains, heads and roots,
Whence flowed the source, the sprigs, the boughs, and fruits,
Of more than thou canst hear or I relate,
That with high hand I still did perpetrate;
For these were threatened the woful day
I mockt the Preachers, put it far away;
The Sermons yet upon Record do stand
That cri’d destruction to my wicked land;
I then believed not, now I feel and see,
The plague of stubborn incredulity.

Some lost their livings, some in prison pent,
Some fin’d from house and friends to exile went.
Their silent tongues to heaven did vengeance cry,
Who saw their wrongs, and hath judg’d righteously,
And will repay it seven fold in my lap;
This is forerunner of my After clap.
Nor took I warning by my neighbors’ falls,
I saw sad Germany’s dismantled walls,
I saw her people famish’d, nobles slain,
The fruitful land a barren Heath remain.
I saw immov’d her Armyes foil’d and fled,
Wives forc’d, babes toss’d, her houses calimed.
I saw strong Rochel yielded to her Foe,
Thousands of starved Christians there also
I saw poor Ireland bleeding out her last,
Such crueltyes as all reports have passed;
Mine heart obdurate stood not yet aghast.
Now sip I of that cup, and just’t may be
The bottome dreggs reserved are for me.

NEW ENGLAND.

To all you’ve said, sad Mother, I assent,
Your fearful sins great cause there’s to lament,
My guilty hands in part, hold up with you,
A Sharer in your punishment’s my due.
But all you say amounts to this affect,
Not what you feel but what you do expect,
Pray in plain terms what is your present grief?
Then let’s joyn heads and hearts for your relief.

OLD ENGLAND.

Well to the matter then, there’s grown of late
‘Twixt King and Peers a Question of State,
Which is the chief, the law or else the King.
One said, it’s he, the other no such thing.
‘Tis said, my beter part in Parliament
To ease my groaning land, shew’d their intent,
To crush the proud, and right to each man deal,
To help the Church, and stay the Common-weal
So many obstacles came in their way,
As puts me to a stand what I should say;
Old customes, new prerogatives stood on,
Had they not held Law fast, all had been gone;
Which by their prudence stood them in such stead
They took high Strafford lower by the head.
And to their Land be’t spoke, they held i’ th’ tower
All England’s Metropolitane that hour;
This done, an act they would have passed fain
No Prelate should his Bishoprick retain;
Here tugged they hard (indeed), for all men saw
This must be done by Gospel, not by law.
Next the Militia they urged sore,
This was deny’d (I need not say wherefore),
The King displeas’d at York himself absents,
They humbly beg return, shew their intents;
The writing, printing, posting too and fro,
Shews all was done, I’ll therefore let it go;