Bvt that I rather pitty, I confesse,
The practise of their Church, I could expresse
Myselfe a Satyrist, whose smarting fanges
Should strike it with a palsy, and the panges
Beget a feare to tempt the Majesty
Of those, or mortall Gods. Will they defie
The Thundring Jove? Like children they desire,
Such is their zeale, to sport themselves with fire:
So have I seene an angry Fly presume
To strike a burning taper, and consume
His feeble wings. Why, in an aire so milde,
Are they so monstrous growne up, and so vilde,
That Salvages can of themselves espy
Their errors, brand their names with infamy?
What! is their zeale for blood like Cyrus thirst?
Will they be over head and eares a curst?
A cruell way to found a Church on! noe,
T’is not their zeale but fury blinds them soe,
And pricks their malice on like fier to joyne,
And offer up the sacrifice of Kain.
Jonas, thou hast done well to call these men
Home to repentance, with thy painefull pen.
F. C. Armiger.