Tradition and antiquitie, the ground
Whereon that erring Church doth so relye,
Breakes out to light, from darknesse, to confound
The novel doctrine of their heresie,
Which plaine by these most sensible degrees
Doth point the wayes it hath digrest to fall;
Where each observing iudgement plainely sees,
From good to bad, from bad to worst of all
It is arriv'd: so that it can aspire,
Obscure, deface, suppresse, doe what it may,
To blinde this truth; to no step any higher
By any policie it can essay.
These holy Hymnes stuft with religious zeale
And meditations of most pious use,
Able their whole to wound, our wounded heale:
Free from impiety, or least abuse,
Blot out all merit in ourselves we have,
And onely, solely, doe on Christ relye:
Offer not prayers for those are in the grave,
Nor unto saints, that heare not, doe not cry.
Then in a word, since God hath thee preserv'd
From the Inquisitors' most cruel rage,
Though in their worth they else might have deserv'd
To passe among the good things of this Age,
Yet are in this respect of more regard,
Since God would have them to these times appeare,
So many having perisht; and be heard
With more true zeale, that God hath kept so deare.
By all which I conclude, from thine owne heart,
Thou wicked servant, that might know and would not,
He hath discharg'd himselfe in all and part,
That would have cur'd your Babel, but hee could not.