"Th' Assacination of Monarchye.
"Beyond this sinne no one step can be Trod
"If not t'attempt deposing of your God.
"Oh were you so engag'd that we might see,
"Heavens angry lightning 'bout your eares to flee;
"Till you were shriveld into dust, and your cold land,
"Parcht to a drought beyond the Libian sand;
"But 'tis reserv'd, and till heaven plague you worse
"Be Objects of an Epidemick curse.
"First may your Brethren to whose viler ends,