Set in a Throne like Babylons red Beast,
While heaps of Parasites do idolize
This red-nos’d Bell, with fawning Sacrifice.
What can we say? our King they’ve Murthered,
And those well born, are basely buried:
Nobles are slain, and Royalists in each street
Are scorn’d, and kick’d by most Men that they meet:
Religion’s banisht, and Heresie survives,
And none but Conventicks in this Age thrives.
Oh could those Romans from their Ashes rise,