Low rest my drifts, my curious Travailes rare:
Low scude the limits, of my high-bred thought:
Low plunge my hopes, in darke deepes of despaire;
Low I o’erthrowne, with crosses low am brought:
Low live I here, in sad restraint and strife:
Low then the lower of the lowest life:
Low as I am, I’le lowly Sacrifice:
Low deep fetch’d sighes, to heaven on my low Knees.
But I remember in the aforesayd time of this my A false aspersion laid on me by Papists.imprisonment, there were two Papists my Countrey-men, who wrot to me a Letter; not like to a familiar Epistle of Cicero: No, but they would have fastned an untruth upon me; affirming that I was a Romane Catholicke in my heart; and that they would justifie it, that I received the Sacrament at Rome, in the first yeare that Paulus (Burgesius) Papa Quintus, came to his triple Crowne: to whom in a true and Christian defence, my serious and approbable reply was thus:
[X. 486.]This is your Papall marke,