Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A37442
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The true-born Englishman a satyr.
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Defoe, Daniel, 1661?-1731.
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1700
(1700)
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Wing D849; ESTC T70649
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19,414
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76
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their Friendship will destroy As you discourse them you shall hear them tell All things in which they think they do excel No Panegyrick needs their Praise record An Englishman ne're wants his own good word His first Discourses gen'rally appear Prologu'd with his own wondrous Character When to illustrate his own good Name He never fails his Neighbour to defame And yet he really designs no wrong His Malice goes no further than his Tongue But pleas'd to Tattle he delights to Rail To satisfy the Lech'ry of a Tale. His own dear Praises close the ample Speech Tells you how Wise he is that is how Rich For Wealth is Wisdom he that 's Rich is wise And all men Learned Poverty despise His Generosity comes next and then Concludes that he 's a True-Born Englishman And they 't is known are Generous and Free Forgetting and Forgiving Injury Which may be true thus rightly understood Forgiving Ill Turns and Forgetting Good Chearful in Labour when they 've undertook it But out of Humour when they 're out of Pocket But if their Belly and their Pocket's full They may be Phlegmatick but never Dull And if a Bottle does their Brains refine It makes their Wit as sparkling as their Wine As for the general Vices which we find They 're guilty of in common with Mankind Satyr forbear and silently endure We must conceal the Crimes we cannot cure Nor shall my Verse the brighter Sex defame For English Beauty will preserve her Name Beyond dispute Agreeable and Fair And Modester than other Nations are For where the Vice prevails the great Temptation Is want of Money more than Inclination In general this only is allow'd They 're something Noisy and a little Proud An Englishman is gentlest in Command Obedience is a Stranger in the Land Hardly subjected to the Magistrate For Englishmen do all Subjection hate Humblest when Rich but peevish when they 're Poor And think whate're they have they merit more Shamwhig pretends t' ha' serv'd the Government But baulk't of due Reward turns Malecontent For English Christians always have regard To future Recompences of Reward His forfeit Liberty they did restore And gave him Bread which he had not before But True-Born English Shamwhig lets them know His Merit must not lye neglected so As Proud as Poor his Masters he 'll defy And writes a Piteous * Satyr in Praise of Folly and Knavery Satyr upon Honesty Some think the Poem had been pretty good If he the Subject had but understood He got Five hundred Pence by this and more As sure as he had ne're a Groat before In Bus'ness next some Friends of his employ'd him And there he prov'd that Fame had not bely'd him His Benefactors quickly he abus'd And falsly to the Government accus'd But they defended by their Innocence Ruin'd the Traytor in their own Defence Thus kick'd about from Pillars unto Posts He whets his Pen against the Lord of Hosts Burlesques his God and King in Paltry Rhimes Against the Dutch turns Champion for the Times And Huffs the King upon that very score On which he Panegyrick't him before Unhappy England hast thou none but such To plead thy Scoundrel Cause against the Dutch This moves their Scorn and not their Indignation He that Lampoons the Dutch Burlesques the Nation The meanest English Plowman studies Law And keeps thereby the Magistrates in Awe Will boldly tell them what they ought to do And sometimes punish their Omissions too Their Liberty and Property 's so dear They scorn their Laws or Governors to fear So bugbear'd with the Name of Slavery They can't submit to their own Liberty Restraint from Ill is Freedom to the Wise But Englishmen do all Restraint despise Slaves to the Liquor Drudges to the Pots The Mob are Statesmen and their Statesmen Sots Their Governors they count such dangerous things That 't is their custom to affront their Kings So jealous of the Power their Kings possess'd They suffer neither Power nor Kings to rest The Bad with Force they eagerly subdue The Good with constant Clamours they pursue And did King Iesus reign they 'd murmur too A discontented Nation and by far Harder to rule in Times of Peace than War Easily set together by the Ears And full of causeless Jealousies and Fears Apt to revolt and willing to rebel And never are contented when they 're well No Government cou'd ever please them long Cou'd tye their Hands or rectify their Tongue In this to Ancient Israel well compar'd Eternal Murmurs are among them heard It was but lately that they were opprest Their Rights invaded and their Laws supprest When nicely tender of their Liberty Lord what a Noise they made of Slavery In daily Tumults show'd their Discontent Lampoon'd their King and mock'd his Government And if in Arms they did not first appear 'T was want of Force and not for want of Fear In humbler Tone than English us'd to do At Foreign Hands for Foreign Aid they sue William the Great Successor of Nassau Their Prayers heard and their Oppressions saw He saw and sav'd them God and Him they prais'd To This their Thanks to That their Trophies rais'd But glutted with their own Felicities They soon their New Deliverer despise Say all their Prayers back their Joy disown Unsing their Thanks and pull their Trophies down Their Harps of Praise are on the Willows hung For Englishmen are ne're contented long The Rev'rend Clergy too and who 'd ha' thought That they who had such Non-Resistance taught Should e're to Arms against their Prince be brought Who up to Heav'n did Regal Pow'r advance Subjecting English Laws to Modes of France Twisting Religion so with Loyalty As one cou'd never live and t'other dye And yet no sooner did their Prince design Their Glebes and Perquisites to undermine But all their Passive Doctrines laid aside The Clergy their own Principles deny'd Unpreach'd their Non-Resisting Cant and pray'd To Heav'n for Help and to the Dutch for Aid The Church chim'd all her Doctrines back again And Pulpit-Champions did the Cause maintain Flew in the face of all their former Zeal And Non-Resistance did at once repeal The Rabbies say it would be too prolix To tye Religion up to Politicks The Church's Safety is Suprema Lex And so by a new Figure of their own Do all their former Doctrines disown As Laws Post Facto in the Parliament In urgent Cases have obtain'd Assent But are as dangerous Presidents laid by Made lawful only by Necessity The Rev'rend Fathers then in Arms appear And Men of God became the Men of War The Nation fir'd by them to Arms apply Assault their Antichristian Monarchy To their due Channel all our Laws restore And made things what they shou'd ha' been before But when they came to Fill the Vacant Throne And the Pale Priests look'd back on what they had done How English Liberty began to thrive And Church-of England Loyalty out-live How all their Persecuting Days were done And their Deliv'rer
is heard so far or lasts so long 'T is heard by ev'ry Ear and spoke by ev'ry Tongue My Hero with the Sails of Honour furl'd Rises like the Great Genius of the World By Fate and Fame wisely prepar'd to be The Soul of War and Life of Victory He spreads the Wings of Virtue on the Throne And ev'ry Wind of Glory fans them on Immortal Trophies dwell upon his Brow Fresh as the Garlands he has worn but now By different Steps the high Ascent he gains And differently that high Ascent maintains Princes for Pride and Lust of Rule make War And struggle for the Name of Conqueror Some fight for Fame and some for Victory He Fights to Save and Conquers to set Free Then seek no Phrase his Titles to conceal And hide with Words what Actions must reveal No Parallel from Hebrew Stories take Of God-like Kings my Similies to make No borrow'd Names conceal my living Theam But Names and Things directly I proclaim 'T is honest Merit does his Glory raise Whom that exalts let no man fear to praise Of such a Subject no man need be shy Virtue 's above the Reach of Flattery He needs no Character but his own Fame Nor any flattering Titles but his Name William's the Name that 's spoke by ev'ry Tongue William's the Darling Subject of my Song Listen ye Virgins to the Charming Sound And in Eternal Dances hand it round Your early Offerings to this Altar bring Make him at once a Lover and a King May he submit to none but to your Arms Nor ever be subdu'd but by your Charms May your soft Thoughts for him be all sublime And ev'ry tender Vow be made for him May he be first in ev'ry Morning-Thought And Heav'n ne're hear a Pray'r where he 's left out May ev'ry Omen ev'ry boding Dream Be Fortunate by mentioning his Name May this one Charm Infernal Powers affright And guard you from the Terrors of the Night May ev'ry chearful Glass as it goes down To William's Health be Cordials to your own Let ev'ry Song be Chorust with his Name And Musick pay her Tribute to his Fame Let ev'ry Poet tune his Artful Verse And in Immortal Strains his Deeds rehearse And may Apollo never more inspire The Disobedient Bard with his Seraphick Fire May all my Sons their grateful Homage pay His Praises sing and for his Safety pray Satyr return to our Unthankful Isle Secur'd by Heav'n's Regard and William's Toil. To both Ungrateful and to both Untrue Rebels to God and to Good Nature too If e're this Nation be distress'd again To whomsoe're they cry they 'll cry in vain To Heav'n they cannot have the face to look Or if they should it would but Heav'n provoke To hope for Help from Man would be too much Mankind would always tell 'em of the Dutch How they came here our Freedoms to maintain Were Paid and Curs'd and Hurry'd home again How by their Aid we first dissolv'd our Fears And then our Helpers damn'd for Foreigners 'T is not our English Temper to do better For Englishmen think ev'ry man their Debtor 'T is worth observing that we ne're complain'd Of Foreigners nor of the Wealth they gain'd Till all their Services were at an End Wise men affirm it is the English way Never to Grumble till they come to Pay And then they always think their Temper 's such The Work too little and the Pay too much As frighted Patients when they want a Cure Bid any Price and any Pain endure But when the Doctor 's Remedies appear The Cure's too Easy and the Price too Dear Great Portland ne're was banter'd when he strove For Us his Master's kindest Thoughts to move We ne're lampoon'd his Conduct when employ'd King Iames's Secret Councils to divide Then we caress'd him as the only Man Which could the Doubtful Oracle explain The only Hushai able to repell The Dark Designs of our Achitophel Compar'd his Master's Courage to his Sense The Ablest Statesman and the Bravest Prince On his Wise Conduct we depended much And lik'd him ne're the worse for being Dutch Nor was he valued more than he deserv'd Freely he ventur'd faithfully he serv'd In all King William's Dangers he has shar'd In England's Quarrels always he appear'd The Revolution first and then the Boyne In Both his Counsels and his Conduct shine His Martial Valour Flanders will confess And France Regrets his Managing the Peace Faithful to England's Interest and her King The greatest Reason of our Murmuring Ten Years in English Service he appear'd And gain'd his Master's and the World's Regard But 't is not England's Custom to Reward The Wars are over England needs him not Now he 's a Dutchman and the Lord knows what Schonbergh the Ablest Soldier of his Age With Great Nassau did in our Cause engage Both join'd for England's Rescue and Defence The Greatest Captain and the Greatest Prince With what Applause his Stories did we tell Stories which Europe's Volumes largely swell We counted him an Army in our Aid Where he commanded no man was afraid His Actions with a constant Conquest shine From Villa-Vitiosa to the Rhine France Flanders Germany his Fame confess And all the World was fond of him but Us. Our Turn first serv'd we grudg'd him the Command Witness the Grateful Temper of the Land We blame the K that he relies too much On Strangers Germans Hugonots and Dutch And seldom does his great Affairs of State To English Counsellors communicate The Fact might very well be answer'd thus He has so often been betray'd by us He must have been a Madman to rely On English G ns Fidelity For laying other Arguments aside This Thought might mortify our English Pride That Foreigners have faithfully obey'd him And none but Englishmen have e're betray'd him They have our Ships and Merchants bought and sold And barter'd English Blood for Foreign Gold First to the French they sold our Turky-Fleet And Injur'd Talmarsh next at Camaret The King himself is shelter'd from their Snares Not by his Merit but the Crown he wears Experience tells us 't is the English way Their Benefactors always to betray And lest Examples should be too remote A Modern Magistrate of Famous Note Shall give you his own History by Rote I 'll make it out deny it he that can His Worship is a True-born Englishman In all the Latitude that Empty Word By Modern Acceptation's understood The Parish-Books his Great Descent record And now he hopes e're long to be a Lord. And truly as things go it wou'd be pity But such as he bore Office in the City While Robb'ry for Burnt-Offering he brings And gives to God what he has stole from Kings Great Monuments of Charity he raises And good St. Magnus whistles out his Praises To City-Gaols he grants a Jubilee And hires Huzza's from his own Mobile Lately he wore the Golden Chain and Gown With which Equipt he thus harangu'd the Town Sir C s D b's Fine Speech c. WIth