<!DOCTYPE ETS PUBLIC "-//UMDLPS//DTD EEBOPROOF 2.0//EN">
<ETS>
<TEMPHEAD>
<REVDESCR>
<CHANGE>
<DATE>2007-09-03</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>Elspeth Healey</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
</RESPSTMT>
<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B070813.apex.</ITEM>
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<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="A88599">
<STC T="W">L3192A</STC>
<STC T="T">669.f.25[18]</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99870569</BIBNO>
<VID>163823</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="prayer">
<PB REF="1" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 5 -->
<HEAD>THE PRAYER OF Collonel Iohn Lambert IN CAPTIVITY.</HEAD>
<HEAD TYPE="sub">This Prayer is not in the Hebrew, but was Tran&s;lated out of the Greek by his Chaplain for the Collonels own proper u&s;e.</HEAD>
<P>_MO&s;t Plaguye and mo&s;t Confounded <HI>Ill Fortune,</HI> Thou that did&s;t favour <HI>Oliver,</HI> and <HI>Bul&s;trode, Whitlock,</HI> that did&s;t exalt the Poor and Needy, and for many years together &s;end the Rich empty away; Thou did&s;t ble&s;&s;e <HI>Clowns</HI> with the ble&s;sing of <HI>Mony baggs,</HI> and made&s;t <HI>Jone</HI> as good as my <HI>Lady,</HI> why, Oh why ha&s;t Thou left me in the Mire? I confe&s;&s;e Thy Afflictions are Vn&s;upportable, and Thy Fickle, Giddy, and Whim&s;ical wayes, are to me un&s;earcheable. Yet Thou art not altogether without Compa&s;sion, Thou ha&s;t o&s;tentimes returned to tho&s;e whom Thou ha&s;t made Mi&s;erable, and made them as happy as before thou had&s;t rendred them Contemptible; When wilt Thou deal &s;o by thy Servant <HI>John Lambert?</HI> I confe&s;&s;e I did Offend Thee with my Impudence, for I un&s;eated the <HI>RUMP</HI> too &s;oon, I vexed the City too early, and &s;hewed my Teeth before I was well able to Bite. Yet in one thing I Obey'd Thee, for I put my Confidence in a <HI>Fool,</HI> thinking Thou had&s;t favoured him. If thy Maximes be not true, that was none of my fault. Thou did&s;t help me out of the <HI>Tower</HI> by Thy Favour; but Thou did&s;t very di&s;courteou&s;ly &s;uffer me to be taken again (Hells Cur&s;e light on Thee) and now my Tran&s;gre&s;sions, are multiplye'd before my Enemies: So that I am only leapt out of the Frying-pan into the Fyre. How long <HI>Ill Luck</HI> wilt Thou knit Thy Brows; and Frown upon him that was once Thy Darling. Remember what Thou ha&s;t b&eacute;en toward me, and for &s;hame let not all the World &s;&eacute;e what an uncon&s;tant Whore Thou art: Yet if Thou b&eacute;e'&s;t re&s;olv'd to make me the Sport of thy wanton Hours, I be&s;&eacute;ech Thee to provide well for my Daughter the Infanta of <HI>Wimbleton,</HI> and &s;uffer her not to be jeer'd to Death for the Folly of her Father; take not from my Wife the Comforts of the <HI>New Exchange,</HI> but enlarge the Hearts and Pur&s;es of the <HI>Sectary's</HI> towards her, that &s;he may not be forc'd to keep in and &s;igh in Fair Wea|ther, but may &s;till vi&s;it <HI>Hide-Park</HI> and the <HI>Spring-Garden,</HI> with a Pomp befitting their <HI>Generals</HI> Wife. And as for my &s;elf deliver me out of Pri&s;on if it be Thy Will, lea&s;t a wor&s;e thing befall me, for I hear Innocent blood, and that Royal too crying out for revenge. Oh grant that the <HI>Portugal Emba&s;&s;ador</HI> may beg me, and &s;end me out of the noi&s;e on't, where it may happen that by Thy Favour I may be <HI>Protector</HI> in a &s;trange Country, that am &s;o much de&s;pi&s;ed in my own. But if Thou wilt have me Dye, Mazzle up the Mouth of gaping Hi&s;tory, that it may not publi&s;h my Di&s;honor, and the ill Suc|ce&s;&s;e of my Rebellion, my Effeminate E&s;cape, and pittiful Submi&s;sion in the Field. More I might &s;ay, <HI>Dear Godde&s;&s;e;</HI> But I never us'd to pray long, or much: And therefore do but help me out at this dead lift; and Thou &s;halt be my only Deity, to which I and my Succe&s;&s;ors will a&s;cribe all our prai&s;es while the World endures.</P>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P>LONDON, Printed in the Year, 1660.</P>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
</TEXT>
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