(8)
In painful labours, and in weary watching,
In cold, and hunger, still in fear of catching;
In many perils, both by sea and land,
From enemies, and from false brethren’s hand;
Holland in part, Britain and Ireland know,
What perils he was forc’d to undergo:
In none of which he any rest could find,
But every where, both foes and friends combin’d,
By tongue and hand, him still to persecute,
In a most keen and violent pursuit;
Hence such a price was set upon his head,
As did entice to catch him, quick or dead.
Hell’s hottest harpies, villains, vilest vermine,
Who by all means, to take him did determine:
Therefore, in fury they the chase did follow,
By hue and cry, and many hideous hollows;
Through cities, country, villages of Boors
Through wettest mosses, and through wildest muirs,
Through highest mountains, and remotest glens,
Compelling him to caves and hidden dens:
Where weary, cold, and hungry, he could find
No comfort, but what from the heavens shin’d:
Yet after all their proud designs were done,
His works to them prov’d Sisyphus his stone;
Still with renewed force, afresh returning,
The bush did burn, but did not waste in burning;
His dispicable followers, tho’ few,
The more they were afflicted, more they grew;
All proclamations, cruel prohibitions,
All circuit-courts of Spanish inquisitions,
(Imposing conscience-coz ning oaths and bonds,
Recusants, banishing to foreign lands,
Or murdering by bloody butchers hands.
Could never either their own cumbers finish,
Nor so much as their numbers yet deminish:
Nor crush, nor cool his unappalled zeal,
Nor of his ministry cancel the seal,
Engraven on the hearts of many hearers,
Who were Jehovah’s followers and fearers;
Which now’s impressed with a deeper stamp,
Since the expiring of this burning lamp;
Whose latest Sparklings hath lo brightly blaz’d,
That many eyes were dazled and amaz’d,
To see now visibly without a cloud,
And legibly in characters of blood.)
