Distressed Zion relieved, or, The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness wherein…Distressed Sion relieved, or, The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness wherein…

But stay my Muse, for here's more cause of grief, And I have still more cause of Heaven's relief, For now alas! two Martyrs I espy, On whom were acted a sad Tragedy. The one a Person of great worth and name, A Citizen of London of much Fame, Who by Time serving wretches that would do What ever might please the Factious Romish Crew. Was doomed to death by villainous Evidence, Though for himself he made a just defence. Alderman Cornish was this worthy man That thus unjustly suffered. Who now can Forbear to weep? or can forbear to tell What to a pious woman then befell? Poor Mistress Gaunt, most dear thou wast to me, Few of thy Sex ever excelled thee •• Zeal, in Knowledge, or in Charity, Who wast condemned a cruel death to die, Cause thou relievedst men in misery. These two I must bewail, who in one day By Romish Treachery were swept away; ⟨p. 38⟩'Gainst whom these Miscreants malice did appear, 'Though altogether innocent and clear; As doubtless we shall find apparently, When their Case stated is impartially. As to the woman 'twill be showed ere long. That many ways she suffered much wrong, Who by a Jury at H••ks-Hall was freed, Yet at th' Old-Bailey 'gainst her they proceed; A London Jury took her Life away, Which they may answer for another day. On the same day these worthy Christians fell, Most of us may remember very well. That Gods displeasure ere that day was done Seemed very evident to every one That his works doth observe, and mind his hand In his strange operations in the Land. O come ye Angels, lend your glorious Stile! Created Beings to lament a while. Ye blessed Hosts that sing Jehovah's praise, Assist my Muse in lamentable Phrase; For now the City Streets even run with Blood Of those Just men, who only sought our good. Ah! London, let all future Ages see Thy grief, that Cornish lost his Life in thee. Could not their burning thee abate their rage? Nor their enslaving thee their wrath assuage? Could not Great Russel's death them mollify? Nor Essex's murder stop their cruelty? Would not th' enthralling of Great Britain do, Religion and Liberty to overthrow? ⟨p. 39⟩Hast thou not many years triumphed in Blood, Undoing thousands who most faithful stood Unto their Countries Interest, venturing all, The Common-weal might not to ruin fall? Oh cursed Rome! thou'lt soon thy measure fill, Thy wickedness grows and increases still;