Selected quad for the lemma: book_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
book_n	author_n	church_n	england_n	1,632	5	5.8746	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A25673	The Anti-weesils, a poem giving an account of some historical and argu-mental passages happening in the Lyon's Court.		1691 (1691)	Wing A3516; ESTC R10067	13,470	32

THE Anti-WEESILS A POEM GIVING An Account of some Historical and Argumental Passages happening in the LYON'S Court. Mark those who dote on Arbitrary Power And you shall find 'em either hot-brain'd Youth Or needy Bankrupts servile in their greatness And Slaves to some to Lord it o're the rest Vid. Mr. Dryden 's Spanish Fryer LONDON Printed and are to be Sold by Randal Taylor near Stationers-Hall 1691. THE PREFACE ON reading the famed piece of Banter for I can't call it a Poem lately published against the Reverend Doctor I had perhaps different thoughts from most others on that Subject and do still believe that 't will conduce more to his Honour than Disgrace with any thinking Men both because it shows his Enemies Arguments are all spent and their Ammunition done when they come to charge him with such Pot-gun weapons and that they find 't is impossible fairly to answer what he asserts because they take the easier way of ridiculing it that way which has been most blasphemously used against the best of Books and best of Beings and which without the Fatigue of thinking tickles a man out of an argument for 't is easie to imagine if we once cou'd dress up even an Apostle in a Fools Coat none would either believe or mind a word he says 'T is also an honour to the Doctor that he has Persons of such Religion and Morals as this appears to be for his Antagonists who in the very fourth line laughs at Christians expecting the Resurrection who gives Preaching no better a Title than Bubbling Fools and would perswade us that Religion is good for nothing but to make the World Block-heads though he being one of the more refined and wise ones it seems has the happiness to see through the Milstone though others can't Indeed I can't imagine how any English-man can with patience read himself there called a Free-born Brute or be pleased with the many palpable Reflections on the present Government to have the taking the Oaths call'd no better a name than Perjury and to be told that 't was only a politick Faction drove out the late King James who poor Prince was betrayed by his own Subjects thô I fancy those Honourable and Noble not to add Royal persons who left his Party when they must either have left that or their Religion won't think themselves much oblig'd to him for the Name of Traytors Just as handsome is his Insinuation that those who yet stand out do it for Conscience those who come in only for Pay full as civil as his calling the Doctor a wavering Brute for his horrid Apostacy from King James Let him after this pretend as long as he please as he does in his Preface at the wrong end of his Book that it might be all surprizing that he has a Veneration for the Church of England I suppose Dodwells Church or the late Bishop of Chester's whereas we must have more Faith than the Author has and full as little knowledge to believe he is a Church of England Man who is not so much as a Christian of which Character it s notoriously known are many of King James's few Friends that many who see what Blockheads Religion has made e'm in this Authors phrase and who are better known than they suspect Who have just as much Veneration for Almighty God as this Gentleman for the present Monarchical Government of England which here he pretends to flatter though he dares not mention Their Gracious Majesties for fear in his own phrase lest the late Lyon should return And for the same Reason since I find him very cautious and reserv'd I 'll not ask the Gentleman what he means by those admirable thô plain Principles of the Church of England which some Men byass'd by Interest wink at or forget For the Poem it self I have nothing to say to 't being such a natur'd thing as will bear nothing Who can answer the loud Laughter of a Fool or the unlucky Grin of that Creature that looks so like a Man Full as wisely would any one pretend to ridicule an Antick or outmock a Scaramouch all whose Wit lies in Impudence and Grimmace in whose Company let 's now let him alone to enjoy his sweet self as long as he pleases though we possibly may meet him agen before we part and only observe this of the dress of his Poem for he shall still think the Arguments on't unanswerable that it lies obnoxious to all the Objections the ingenious Mr. Montague has made against the Hind and Panther that he shifts Scenes unsufferably and makes his Weesils excellently well acquainted with Divinity Politicks or what else he pleases and yet in the very next moment sets 'em a nibbling upon their old Cheese and Bacon I shall say yet less of my own Poem whereof 't will be enough to tell the Reader that I have endeavour'd to avoid this fault in it which I blame in the Weesils though thereby 't is plain I lose a great advantage that 't is a hasty thought of a few hours Writing and that if he 'll please to believe me he can't think much more meanly on 't than I do my Self Farewell The Anti-WEESILS A POEM HAppy those peaceful Lands thrice happy they Propitious Heaven has freed from Beasts of Prey Where the rich fleecy Housholds safely go And graze all day fearless of any Foe Nor spoted Pard nor nimble Tygar know Pan guards their Folds by no fell Wolf distrest Both Sheep and Shepherd lay them down to rest Not so of old rich Albion's fertile Soyl E're just severity had purg'd the Isle A Wast there was its Arms out-stretching wide Ardenna call'd by Royal Severn's side Where in deep dismal Groves untrod by Men Coucht the Wild Beasts in many a gloomy Den The Kingly Lyon Lord and Sovereign there The Fox the Pard the Tygar and the Bear All in the midst of the most secret shade Close in an unfrequented gloomy glade The Sovereign kept his Court but late his own His dying Brother newly left the Throne Fairly or not to Jove is only known From Caledonian Woods their Lineage came Proud of their Ancestors long purchas'd Fame Two Ages past to warmer Worlds they run And bask in Southern Brittains kinder Sun Where the Wild Nations them their Lords confess New robb'd by Fate of their lov'd Lyoness E're since they held our Forrests wide command Now with a fix'd now with a trembling Hand Sometimes wou'd on their Free-born Subjects fall Grasping too much they 'd venture losing all This cost a Life the best of all their Blood Torn by the furious Rabble of the Wood Two of whose hapless Race their Countrey chang'd And long far off in Forreign Desarts rang'd 'Till pittying Jove when all their hope was past To their own Realms restor'd 'em both at last Where in soft Joys they quickly drown'd their Pain And little less than share an equal Reign But Prodigies can never long remain Two Suns are one too