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<DATE>2009-02-04</DATE>
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<NAME>Mona Logarbo</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
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<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B081154.pdcc.</ITEM>
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<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B03463">
<STC T="W">G1040</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99886957</BIBNO>
<VID>181519</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB REF="1" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 11 -->
<HEAD>The GOOD CHRISTIANS Complaint;</HEAD>
<HEAD TYPE="sub">OR, <HI>Poor</HI> CHARITY's <HI>Langui&s;hing Lamentation in a late long and tedious Winter;</HI></HEAD>
<ARGUMENT>
<P>Seeing <HI>Pride, Envy, Hatred, Malice,</HI> with many other Vices, Nouri&s;h'd like Darlings in the Bo&s;ome of Mankind; whil&s;t <HI>Love</HI> and <HI>Mercy, Truth</HI> and <HI>Chartity,</HI> did unregarded Wander like &s;trange Pilgrims. Concluding with a Sea&s;onable Exhortation to a Chri&s;tian Life.</P>
</ARGUMENT>
<HEADNOTE>
<P>Licen&s;ed according to Order.</P>
</HEADNOTE>
<P><FIGURE>
</FIGURE></P>
<P><FIGURE>
</FIGURE></P>
<P><FIGURE>
</FIGURE></P>
<LG>
<L>AS <HI>Truth</HI> was pa&s;&s;ing through the open Street,</L>
<L>It was his chance poor <HI>Charity</HI> to meet,</L>
<L>Di&s;tre&s;&s;ed in the bitter Fro&s;t and Snow,</L>
<L>And for Relief &s;he knew not where to go.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L><HI>Grief</HI> &s;ate Enthron'd between her careful Brow<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="missing" EXTENT="1 letter">,</L>
<L>For there was few that wou'd her Cau&s;e e&s;pou&s;e;</L>
<L>Her Cheeks was nipp'd by &s;harp and freezing Wind,</L>
<L>She &s;ighing &s;aid, Is all the World unkind?</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Where are tho&s;e Ancients that were wont to be</L>
<L>Such Benefactors to poor <HI>Charity?</HI></L>
<L>What, are they dead, and left none of their Race,</L>
<L>That are right willing to &s;upply their place?</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>I find the Widow and the Fatherle&s;s,</L>
<L>With Grief and Sorrow langui&s;h in di&s;tre&s;s;</L>
<L>While tho&s;e that vaunt in rich Embroider'd Gold,</L>
<L>Will not look down their &s;orrows to behold.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Tho&s;e who their lives in wanton plea&s;ures lead,</L>
<L>If they behold a Man who &s;tands in need</L>
<L>Of pre&s;ent help, his Grief they will not mind;</L>
<L>O this we do by &s;ad experience find.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>The Youthful Gallant ought to Honour Age,</L>
<L>The hoary Head, with Vi&s;age Grave and Sage:</L>
<L>But yet in&s;tead of this, &s;ome &s;well with Pride,</L>
<L>And poor decripid Age &s;corn and deride.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>In&s;tead of giving them a due Re&s;pect,</L>
<L>On their gray Hairs Youth often will reflect;</L>
<L>And commonly reviling Language give,</L>
<L>As if on Earth they were not fit to live.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>In&s;tead of Love, which ought to rule and reign,</L>
<L>Ju&s;t cau&s;e we have of Malice to complain:</L>
<L>Among&s;t us here Revenge is &s;weet we find,</L>
<L>To &s;uch as tho&s;e who are to Wrath inclin'd.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>One Neighbour hates to &s;ee another Thrive,</L>
<L>Behold how carefull are they to contrive,</L>
<L>By what &s;lye means they may their Ruine prove;</L>
<L>And this is all for want of Chri&s;tian Love.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Some Men before they'll pardon an Offence,</L>
<L>Will &s;eek Revenge, tho' at a large Expence:</L>
<L>But if the Lord of Love was &s;o &s;evere,</L>
<L>What would become of &s;inful Mortals here?</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>If <HI>Charity</HI> among&s;t the Sons of Men,</L>
<L>Was freely entertain'd, how happy then</L>
<L>Would Chri&s;tians be, they'd readily forgive</L>
<L>All Wrongs, and here in Love and Friend&s;hip live.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But Vice in&s;tead of Vertues Men receive,</L>
<L>Which cau&s;es <HI>Charity</HI> to &s;igh and grieve;</L>
<L>And while &s;he utters forth her Mournful Cries,</L>
<L>Di&s;tilled Tears drop from her melting Eyes.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>To &s;ee how <HI>Folly</HI> like a Darling dear,</L>
<L>Is hugg'd, embrac'd, and likewi&s;e cheri&s;ht here,</L>
<L>Clo&s;e in the very Bo&s;ome of Mankind,</L>
<L>Whil&s;t <HI>Vertue</HI> can no Habitation find.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>In Drunkenne&s;s &s;ome Per&s;ons take delight,</L>
<L>With quaffing Cups in Taverns day and night.</L>
<L>Thus they their Wealth in lawle&s;s plea&s;ures &s;pend,</L>
<L>While to the Poor they'll neither give nor lend.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Alas! we often hear the Drunkard boa&s;t,</L>
<L>Who can continue longe&s;t, &s;wallow mo&s;t;</L>
<L>But it were better we cou'd hear them &s;ay,</L>
<L>That for their Sins they love to Fa&s;t and Pray.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>For fear the Lord in wrath &s;hou'd Vengeance take,</L>
<L>For why, the be&s;t of Men may chance to break</L>
<L>His ju&s;t Commands, but how much more does he,</L>
<L>Who drowns his Soul in floods of Infamy.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>That very Sin &s;ends thou&s;ands to the Grave,</L>
<L>Their Lives the Learned Doctors cannot &s;ave;</L>
<L>Yet &s;ure I am, &s;uch Deaths would never be,</L>
<L>If Men had for them&s;elves but <HI>Charity.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Likewi&s;e the Sin of Pride does here bear &s;way,</L>
<L>Who Peacock-like, does gaudy Plumes di&s;play;</L>
<L>And at a Blu&s;h &s;eems beautiful and fair,</L>
<L>Yet to the World &s;he proves a fatal Snare.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Some Per&s;ons they to Pride are &s;o inclin'd,</L>
<L>That night and day there's nothing el&s;e they mind;</L>
<L>That time that &s;hould be &s;pent in Righteou&s;ne&s;s,</L>
<L>They here be&s;tow to prank a Modi&s;h Dre&s;s.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Forgetting that they are but Du&s;t and Clay,</L>
<L>Who notwith&s;tanding all their Garments Gay,</L>
<L>Mu&s;t &s;toop to Death, and in a Grave he laid,</L>
<L>Where they &s;hall &s;oon a Fea&s;t for Worms be made.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Then what becomes of Grandieur, State and Pride,</L>
<L>And all the Glories of the World be&s;ide?</L>
<L>They lye within the limits of a Shroud,</L>
<L>Then why &s;hould Man, poor Mortal Man, be Proud?</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Yet &s;ome again&s;t the Rules of &s;olid Sen&s;e,</L>
<L>Will nouri&s;h Pride, there's none &s;hall them convince;</L>
<L>And many pounds on it will &s;pend, before</L>
<L>They'd give one &s;ingle Penny to the Poor.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>The very painted Harlot which they meet,</L>
<L>At ev'ry crick and corner of the Street,</L>
<L>They will &s;upply with Gold and Silver bright,</L>
<L>Meerly for the leud plea&s;ures of the Night.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But &s;ee, does not her Foot&s;teps lead to Death?</L>
<L>Is there not more than Poi&s;on in her breath?</L>
<L>To taint thy Soul with the fal&s;e &s;hows of Love,</L>
<L>Until &s;he does thy utter Ruin prove.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Tho&s;e that has run this loo&s;e perfidious Race,</L>
<L>Has met with Death in &s;hame and &s;ad di&s;grace;</L>
<L>And did with melting Dying Tears declare,</L>
<L>That Harlots fond allurements brought them there.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Thus Varlets often bitterly complain,</L>
<L>That crying &s;ins has prov'd their fatal bare;</L>
<L>But who is he that ever did repent,</L>
<L>That he in Righteou&s;ne&s;s his days had &s;pent.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Complaining he had led too &s;trict a Life,</L>
<L>Too free from Malice, Envy, Spleen and Strife;</L>
<L>Too Sober, likewi&s;e too Religious here,</L>
<L>Or that a Con&s;cience had been kept too clear.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>No, the&s;e are Comforts of a Dying Bed,</L>
<L>VVhen we can call to mind how we have led</L>
<L>A Life on Earth, &s;ea&s;on'd with Chri&s;tian Grace,</L>
<L>VVhich will conduct us to a re&s;ting place.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>For this vain World with grief flows like a flood,</L>
<L>Here's little el&s;e but Wars and &s;hedding Blood;</L>
<L>Contending &s;till for Superority.</L>
<L>This is for want of Love and Charity.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>If we would War and la&s;ting Glory win,</L>
<L>We mu&s;t like Chri&s;tian Souldiers Conquer Sin,</L>
<L>The greate&s;t Enemy to all Mankind,</L>
<L>So &s;hall we then Eternal Glory find.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
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<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P>LONDON, <HI>Printed for</HI> P. Brooksby, J. Deacon, J. Blare, <HI>and</HI> J. Back. <HI>1692.</HI></P>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
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