The Confinement of the Seven Bishops (1688)

The Confinement of the Seven Bishops.

[London: no publisher, 1688]

Where is there Faith, or Justice to be found? Sure, the World Trembles, Nature’s in a sound, To see her Pious Sons, Design’d to Fall, A Victim, for Religion, Truth and All. The Charms of Piety, are no Defence, Against the New found Power, that can Dispense With Laws, to Murder Innocence: Surely, unless some Pittying God look down, And stop the Threatning Torrent, it will drown Divinity it Self.-------------- The Bishops Prisoners are, we tamely see; The Reverend Prelats forc’d to Bow the Knee To Anti-Christ: No, Mighty Monarch, know, Tho’ we must pay to Caesar what we Owe; There is a Power Supreme, by which You Live, Whose Arm is longer, and Prergoative Larger by far, than Yours, whose very Word Can blast Your Hopes, and turn Your two edg’d Sword; Can make this Titular Vice-gerent know, Vertue, like Palm’s Deprest, do’s higher grow. Tho’ Roab’d in all the Grandure of the State, Courtiers, like Radient Stars about You wait, Midst of Your Glorious Joys, when You put on That Awful Presence, which becomes a Throne: Belshazzer like, Three Words upon a Wall, ‘Twill Dash Your Joys, and make Your Glory Fall: His Holyness, That Patriot of Strife, Tho’ he can grant You Pardon, cannot Life. Arise then, Mighty Sir, in God-like Mean! As of thy Valor, Let thy Truth be Seen, Free from Mistrust, let all Your Words be clear By Action; Let Your Promises appear, Protect the Church, which brought You to the Crown; You know ‘tis Great, and Honourable to Own, A Kindness done; But to Reward with Death, The Happy instruments, That gave You Breath, Is mean; and might a Catholick Conscience sting, To cut the Hand of that, Anoints You King.