by soddayne flame an hand we knowe
of peoble stones the sowndles rapp
the dredfull plage might mak the see
of goddes wrath that doth the enwrapp
that pryde might know from conscience free
how loftye workes may her defend
and envye fynd as he hath sought
how other seke him to offend
and wrath tast of eche crewell thought
that iust shapp hyer in the end
and ydell slouthe that never wrought
th heven hys spirite lift may begyn
& gredye lucre lyve in dred
to see what haste ill gott goodes wynn
the lechers ye that lustes do feed
porceve what secrecye is in synne
and gluttons hartes for sorow blede
awaked when their faulte they fynd
In lothsome vyce eche dronken wight
to styrr to godd this was my mynd
thy wyndowes had don me no spight
but prowd people that drede no fall
clothed with falshed and vnright
bred in the closures of thy wall
but wrested to wrathe in fervent zeale
thow hast to strief my secret call
endured hartes no warning feale
Oh shameles hore is dred then gone
by suche thy foes as ment thy weale
Oh membre of false Babylon
the shopp of craft, the denné of ire
thy dredfull dome drawes fast vppon
thy martyres blood by swoord & fyre
In heaven & earth for Iustice call
the lord shall here their iust desyre
the flame of wrath shall on the fall
with famyne and pest lamentablie
stricken shalbe they lecheres all
they prowd towers and turretes hye
enmyes to god beat stone from stone
thyne Idolles burnt that wrought iniquitie
when none thy ruyne shall bemone
but render vnto the right wise lord
that so hath iudged Babylon
Imortall praise with one accord
ffynis H. S.

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