Had I bin Man and the great Act to do H 'ad dy'd by this and bin what I am now Or what His Father is I would leap Hell To reach His Life tho in the midst I fell And deeper than before Let rabble Souls of narrow aim and reach Stoop their vile Necks and dull Obedience preach Let them with slavish aw disdain'd by me Adore the purple Rag of Majesty And think 't a sacred Relick of the Sky Well may such Fools a base Subjection own Vassals to every Ass that loads a Throne Unlike the soul with which proud I was born Who could that sneaking thing a Monarch scorn Spurn off a Crown and set my foot in sport Upon the head that wore it trod in dirt But say what is 't that binds your hands do's fear From such a glorious action you deter Or is 't Religion but you sure disclaim That frivolous pretence that empty name Meer bugbear word devis'd by Us to scare The sensless rout to slavishness and fear Ne're know to aw the brave and those that dare Such weak and feeble things may serve for checks To rein and curb base-mettled Hereticks Dull creatures whose nice bogling consciences Startle or strain at such slight crimes as these Such whom fond inbred honesty befools Or that old musty piece the Bible gulls That hated Book the bulwark of our foes Whereby they still uphold their tott'ring cause Let no such toys mislead you from the road Of glory nor infect your Souls with good Let never bold incroaching Virtue dare With her grim holy face to enter there No not in very Dream have only will Like Fiends and Me to covet and act ill Let true substantial wickedness take place Usurp and Reign let it the very trace If any yet be left of good deface If ever qualms of inward cowardice The things which some dull sots call conscience rise Let them in streams of Blood and slaughter drown Or with new weights of guilt still press 'em down Shame Faith Religion Honor Loyalty Nature it self whatever checks there be To loose and uncontrol'd impiety Be all extinct in you own no remorse But that you 've balk'd a sin have been no worse Or too much pity shewn Be diligent in Mischiefs Trade be each Performing as a Dev'l nor stick to reach At Crimes most dangerous where bold despair Mad lust and heedless blind revenge would ne're Ev'n look march you without a blush or fear Inflam'd by all the hazards that oppose And firm as burning Martyrs to your Cause Then you 're true Jesuits then you 're fit to be Disciples of great Loyola and Me Worthy to undertake worthy a Plot Like this and fit to scourge an Huguenot Plagues on that Name may swift confusion seize And utterly blot out the cursed Race Thrice damn'd be that Apostate Monk from whom Sprung first these Enemies of Us and Rome Whose pois'nous Filth dropt from ingend'ring Brain By monstrous Birth did the vile Insects spawn Which now infest each Country and defile With their o'respreading swarms this goodly I le Once it was ours and subject to our Yoke Till a late reigning Witch th' Enchantment broke It shall again Hell and I say 't have ye But courage to make good the Prophesie Not Fate it self shall hinder Too sparing was the time too mild the day When our great Mary bore the English sway Unqueen-like pity marr'd her Royal Pow'r Nor was her Purple dy'd enough in Gore Four or five hundred such like petty sum Might fall perhaps a Sacrifice to Rome Scarce worth the naming had I had the Pow'r Or been thought fit t' have been her Counsellor She shou'd have rais'd it to a nobler score Big Bonfires should have blaz'd and shone each day To tell our Triumphs and make bright our way And when 't was dark in every Lane and Street Thick flaming Hereticks should serve to light And save the needless Charge of Links by night Smithfield should still have kept a constant fire Which never should be quench'd never expire But with the lives of all the miscreant rout Till the last gasping breath had blown it out So Nero did such was the prudent course Taken by all his mighty Successors To tame like Hereticks of old by force They scorn'd dull reason and pedantick rules To conquer and reduce the harden'd Fools Racks Gibbets Halters were their arguments Which did most undeniably convince Grave bearded Lions manag'd the dispute And reverend Bears their Doctrines did consute And all who would stand out in stiff defence They gently claw'd and worried into sense Better than all our Sorbon dotards now Who would by dint of words our Foes subdue This was the rigid Discipline of old Which modern sots for Persecution hold Of which dull Annalists in story tell Strange Legends and huge bulky Volumes swell With Martyr'd Fools that lost their way to Hell From these our Church's glorious Ancestors We 've learnt our arts and made their Methods ours Nor have we come behind the least degree In acts of rough and manly cruelty Converting Faggots and the pow'rful stake And Sword resistless our Apostles make This heretofore Bohemia felt and thus Were all the num'rous Proselytes of Huss Crush'd with their head So Waldo's cursed rout And those of Wickliff here were rooted out Their names scarce left Sure were the means we chose And wrought prevailingly Fire purg'd the dross Of those foul Heresies and sovereign Steel Lopt off th' infected Limbs the Church to heal Renown'd was that French Brave renown'd his deed A deed for which the day deserves its red Far more than for a paltry Saint that died How goodly was the Sight how fine the Show When Paris saw through all its Channels flow The blood of Huguenots when the full Sein Swell'd with the flood its Banks with joy o're-ran He scorn'd like common Murderers to deal By parcels and piecemeal he scorn'd Retail I' th' Traâ—…e of Death whole Myriads died by th' great Soon as one single life so quick their Fate Their very Pray'rs and Wishes came too late This a King did and great and mighty ' t was Worthy his high Degree and Pow'r and Place And worthy our Religion and our Cause Unmatch'd ' thad been had not Mac-quire arose The bold Mac-quire who read in modern Fame Can be a Stranger to his Worth and Name Born to out-sin a Monarch born to Reign In Guilt and all Competitors disdain Dread memory whose each mention still can make Pale Hereticks with trembling Horror quake T' undo a Kingdom to atchieve a crime Like his who would not fall and die like him Never had Rome a nobler service done Never had Hell each day came thronging down Vast shoals of Ghosts and mine was pleas'd glad And smil'd when it the brave revenge survey'd Nor do I mention these great Instances For bounds and limits to your wickedness Dare you beyond something out of the road Of all example where none yet have trod Nor shall
of his undertaking But now 't is done he is loth to burn it and chuses rather to give somebody else the trouble The Reader may do as he pleases either like it or put it to the use of Mr. Jordan 's Works 'T is the first attempt he ever made in this kind and likely enough to be the last his vein if he may be thought to have any lying another way SATYRS UPON THE JESUITS PROLOGUE FOR who can longer hold when every Press The Bar and Pulpit too has broke the Peace When every scribling Fool at the alarms Has drawn his Pen and rises up in Arms And not a dull Pretender of the Town But vents his gall in Pamphlet up and down When all with licence rail and who will not Must be almost suspected of the PLOT And bring his Zeal or else his Parts in doubt In vain our Preaching Tribe attack the Foes In vain their weak Artillery oppose Mistaken honest men who gravely blame And hope that gentle Doctrine should reclaim Are Texts and such exploded trifles fit T' impose and sham upon a Jesuit Would they the dull Old Fisher men compare With mighty Suarez and great Escobar Such thred-bare proofs and stale Authorities May Us poor simple Hereticks suffice But to a sear'd Ignatian's Conscience Harden'd as his own Face with Impudence Whose Faith in contradiction bore whom Lies Nor non-sense nor Impossibilities Nor shame nor death nor damning can assail Not these mild fruitless methods will avail 'T is pointed Satyr and the sharps of Wit For such a prize are th' only Weapons fit Nor needs there Art or Genius here to use Where Indignation can create a mâ—…e Should Parts and Nature fail yet very spite Would make the arrant'st Wild or Withers write It is resolv'd hence forth an endless War I and my Muse with them and theirs declare Whom neither open Mâ—…lice of the Foes Nor private Daggers nor St. Omer's Dose Nor all that Godfrey felt or Monarchs fear Shall from my vow'd and sworn revenge deter Sooner shall false Court Favourites prove just And faithful to their Kings and Countrys trust Sooner shall they detect the tricks of State And knav'ry suits and bribes and flatt'ry hate Bawds shall turn Nuns Salt D s grow chast And Paint and Pride and Lechery detest Popes shall for Kings Supremacy decide And Cardinals for Huguenots be try'd Sooner which is the great'st impossible Shall the vile Brood of Loyola and Hell Give o're to Plot be Villains and Rebel Than I with utmost spite and vengeance cease To prosecute and plague their cursed race The rage of Poets damn'd of Womens Pride Contemn'd and scorn'd or proffer'd lust denied The malice of Religious angry Zeal And all cashier'd resenting Statesmen feel What prompts dire Hags in their own blood to write And sell their very souls to Hell for spite All this urge on my rank envenom'd spleen And with keen Satyr edg my stabbing Pen That its each home-set thrust their blood may draw Each drop of Ink like Aquafortis gnaw Red hot with vengeance thus I 'll brand disgrace So deep no time shall e're the marks deface Till my severe and exemplary doom Spread wider than their guilt till it become More dreaded than the Bor and frighten worse Than damning Pope's Anathema's and curse SATYR I. Garnet's Ghost addressing to the Jesuits met in private Cabal just after the Murder of Godfrey BY Hell 't was bravely done what less than this What Sacrifice of meaner worth and price Could we have offer'd up for our success So fare all they who e're provoke our hate Who by like ways presume to tempt their fate Fare each like this bold medling Fool and be As well secur'd as well dispatch'd as he Would he were here yet warm that we might drain His reaking gore and drink up ev'ry vein That were a glorious sanction much like thine Great Roman made upon a like design Like thine we scorn so mean a Sacrament To seal and consecrate our high intent We scorn base Blood should our great League cement Thou didst it with a slave but we think good To bind our Treason with a bleeding God Would it were His why should I fear to name Or you to hear 't at which we nobly aim Lives yet that hated en'my of our Cause Lives He our mighty projects to oppose Can His weak innocence and Heaven's care Be thought security from what we dare Are you then Jesuits are you so for nought In all the Catholick depths of Treason taught In orthodox and solid pois'ning read In each profounder art of killing bred And can you fail or bungle in your trade Shall one poor life your cowardize upbraid Tame dastard slaves who your profession shame And fix disgrace on our great Founder's name Think what late Sect'ries an ignoble crew Not worthy to be rank'd in sin with you Inspir'd with lofty wickedness durst do How from his Throne they hurl'd a Monarch down Aud doubly eas'd him of both Life and Crown They scorn'd in covert their bold act to hide In open face of Heav'n the work they did And brav'd its vengeance and its pow'rs defi'd This is his Son and mortal too like him Durst you usurp the glory of the crime And dare ye not I know you scorn to be By such as they out-done in villany Your proper province true you urg'd them on Were engins in the fact but they alone Share all the open credit and renown But hold I wrong our Church and Cause which need No forein instance nor what others did Think on that matchless Assassin whose name We with just pride can make our happy claim He who at killing of an Emperor To give his poison stronger force and pow'r Mixt a God with 't and made it work more sure Blest memory which shall through Age to come Stand sacred in the Lists of Hell and Rome Let our great Clement and Ravillac's name Your Spirits to like heights of sin inflame Those mighty Souls who bravely chose to die T' have each a Royal Ghost their company Heroick Act and worth their tortures well Well worth the suff'ring of a double Hell That they felt here and that below they feel And if these cannot move you as they shou'd Let me and my example fire your blood Think on my vast attempt a glorious deed Which durst the Fates have suffer'd to succeed Had rival'd Hells most proud exploit and boast Ev'n that which wou'd the King of Fates depos'd Curst be the day and ne're in time inrol'd And curst the Star whose spiteful influence rul'd The luckless Minute which my project spoil'd Curse on that Pow'r who of himself afraid My glory with my brave design betray'd Justly he fear'd lest I who strook so high In guilt should next blow up his Realm and Sky And so I had at least I would have durst And failing had got off with Fame at worst Had you but half my bravery in Sin Your work had never thus unfinish'd bin
Sorrow kept Then thus continued he Since unjust Fate Envies my Race of Glory longer date Yet as a wounded General e're he dies To his sad Troops sighs out his last Advice Who tho they must his fatal Absence moan By those great Lessons conquer when he 's gone So I to you my last Instructions give And breath out Counsel with my parting Life Let each to my important words give Ear Worth your attention and my dying Care First and the chiefest thing by me enjoyn'd The Solemn'st tie that must your Order bind Let each without demur or scruple pay A strict Obedience to the Roman Sway To the unerring Chair all Homage Swear Altho a Punk a Witch a Fiend sit there Who e're is to the Sacred Mitre rear'd Believe all Vertues with the place conferr'd Think him establish'd there by Heav'n tho he Has Altars rob'd for bribes the choice to buy Or pawn'd his Soul to Hell for Simony Tho he be Atheist Heathen Turk or Jew Blasphemer Sacrilegious Perjur'd too Tho Pander Bawd Pimp Pathick Buggerer What e're old Sodom's Nest of Lechers were Tho Tyrant Traitor Pois'oner Parricide Magician Monster all that 's bad beside Fouler than Infamy the very Lees The Sink the Jakes the Common-shore of Vice Strait count him Holy Vertuous Good Devout Chast Gentle Meek a Saint a God who not Make Fate hang on his Lips nor Heaven have Pow'r to Predestinate without his leave None be admitted there but who he please Who buys from him the Patent for the Place Hold those amongst the highest rank of Saints Whom e're he to that Honour shall advance Tho here the Refuse of the Jail and Stews Which Hell it self would scarce for lumber chuse But count all Reprobate and Damn'd and worse Whom he when Gout or Tissick Rage shall curse Whom he in Anger Excommunicates For Friday Meals and abrogating Sprats Or in just Indignation spurns to Hell For jearing Holy Toe and Pantofle What e're he says esteem for Holy Writ And text Apocryphal if he think fit Let arrant Legends worst of Tales and Lies Falser than Capgraves and Voragines Than Quixot Rablais Amadis de Gaul Is sign'd with Sacred Lead and Fisher's Seal Be thought Authentick and Canonical Again if he Ordain't in his Decrees Let very Gospel for meer Fable pass Let Right be wrong Black White and Vertue Vice No Sun no Moon nor no Antipodes Forswear your Reason Conscience your Creed Your very Sense and Euclid if he bid Let it be held less heinous less amiss To break all Gods Commands than one of his When his great Mifsions call without delay Without Reluctance readily Obey Nor let your Inmost Wishes dare gainsay Should he to Bantam or Japan command Or farthest Bounds of Southern unknown Land Farther than Avarice its Vassals drives Thro' Rocks and Dangers loss of Blood and Lives Like great Xavier's be your Obedience shown Outstrip his Courage Glory and Renown Whom neither yawning Gulphs of deep Despair Nor scorching Heats of burning Line could scare Whom Seas nor Storms nor Wracks could make refrain From propagating Holy Faith and Gain If he but nod Commissions out to kill But becken Lives of Hereticks to spill Let th' Inquisition rage fresh Cruelties Make the dire Engines groan with tortur'd Cries Let Campo Flori every day be strow'd With the warm Ashes of the Luth'ran Brood Repeat again Bohemian Slaughters ore And Piedmont Vallies drown with floating Gore Swifter than Murdering Angels when they fly On Errands of avenging Destiny Fiercer than Storms let loose with eager haste Lay Cities Countries Realms whole Nature waste Sack â—…avish burn destroy slay massacre Till the same Grave their Lives and Names interr These are the Rights to our great Mufty due The sworn Allegiance of your Sacred Vow What else we in our Votaries require What other Gift next follows to enquire And first it will our great Advice befit What Soldiers to your Lists you ought admit To Natives of the Church and Faith like you The foremost rank of Choice is justly due 'Mongst whom the chiefest place assign to those Whose Zeal has mostly Signaliz'd the Cause But let not Entrance be to them deny'd Who ever shall desert the adverse Side Omit no Promises of Wealth or Power That may inveigled Hereticks allure Those whom great learning parts or wit renowns Cajole with hopes of Honours Scarlet Gowns Provincial ships and Palls and Triple Crowns This must a Rector that a Provost be A third succed to the next Abbacy Some Princes Tutors others Confessors To Dukes and Kings and Queens and Emperors These are strong Arguments which seldom fail Which more than all yoâ—…r weak disputes prevail Exclude not those of less desert decree To all Revolters your Foundation free To all whom Gaming Drunkenness or Lust To Need and Popery shall have reduc'd To all whom slighted Love Ambition crost Hopes often bilk't and Sought Preferment lost Whom Pride or Discontent Revenge or Spite Fear Frenzy or Despair shall Proselyte Those Pow'rful Motives which the most bring in Most Converts to our Church and Order win Reject not those whom Guilt and Crimes at home Have made to us for Sanctuary come Let Sinners of each Hue and Size and Kind Here quick admittance and safe Refuge find Be they from Justice of their Country fled With Blood of Murders Rapes and Treasons died No Varlet Rogue or Miscreant refuse From Gallies Jails or Hell it self broke loose By this you shall in Strength and Numbers grow And shoals each day to your throng'd Cloisters flow So Rome's and Mecca's first great Founders did By such wise Methods made their Churches spread When shaven Crown and hallow'd Girdle's Power Has dub'd him Saint that Villain was before Enter'd let it his first Endeavour be To shake off all remains of Modesty Dull sneaking Modesty not more unfit For needy flatt'ring Poets when they write Or trading Punks than for a Jesuit If any Novice feel at first a blush Let Wine and frequent converse with the Stews Reform the Fop and shame it out of Use Unteach the puling Folly by degrees And train him to a well-bred Shamelesness Get that great Gift and Talent Impudence Accomplish't Mankind's highest Excellence 'T is that alone prefers alone makes great Confers alone Wealth Titles and Estate Gains Place at Court can make a Fool a Peer An Ass a Bishop can vil'st Blockheads rear To wear Red Hats and sit in Porph'ry Chair 'T is Learning Parts and Skill and Wit and Sense Worth Merit Honour Vertue Innocence Next for Religion learn what 's fit to take How small a Dram do's the just Compond make As much as is by the Crafty States-men worn For Fashion only or to serve a turn To bigot Fools its idle Practice leave Think it enough the empty Form to have The outward Show is seemly cheap and light The Substance Cumbersome of Cost and Weight The Rabble judge by what appears to th' Eye None or but few the Thoughts within Descry Make 't
and not that till then the World shall burn And its base Dross Mankind their fortune mourn While all to their old nothing quick return The peevish Gritick then shall be asham'd And for his Sins of Vanity be damn'd Oxon May the 26th 1684. T. Wood. CONTENTS COunterpart to the Satyr against Vertue Page 1 Virg. Eclogue VIII The Enchantment 13 To Madam L. E. upon her Recovery from a fit of Sickness 22 On the Death of Mrs. Katharine Kingscourt a Child of excellent Parts and Piety 31 A Sunday-thought in Sickness 34 To the Memory of Mr. Charles Morwent 49 To the Memory of that worthy Gentleman Mr. Harman Atwood 95 Character of a certain ugly Old P 111 COUNTERPART TO THE SATYR against VERTUE In Person of the Author I. PArdon me Vertue whatsoe'er thou art For sure thou of the God-head art a part And all that is of him must be The very Deity Pardon if I in ought did thee blaspheme Or injure thy pure Sacred Name Accept unfeign'd Repentance Prayers and Vows The best Atonement of my penitent humble Muse The best that Heav'n requires or Mankind can produce All my Attempts hereafter shall at thy Devotion be Ready to consecrate my Ink and very Blood to thee Forgive me ye blest Souls that dwell above Where you by its reward the worth of Vertue prove Forgive if you can do 't who know no Passion now but Love And you unhappy happy few Who strive with Life and Humane Miseries below Forgive me too If I in ought disparag'd them or else discourag'd you II. Blest Vertue whose Almighty Power Does to our fallen Race restore All that in Paradise we lost and more Lifts us to Heaven and makes us be The Heirs and Image of the Deity Soft gentle Yoak which none but resty Fools refuse Which before Freedom I would ever chuse Easie are all the Bonds that are impos'd by thee Easie as those of Lovers are If I with ought less pure may thee compare Nor do they force but only guide our Liberty By such soft Ties are Spirits above confin'd So gentle is the Chain which them to Good does bind Sure Card whereby this frail and tott'ring Bark we steer Thro' Life's tempestuous Ocean here Thro' all the tossing Waves of Fear And dangerous Rocks of black Despair Safe in thy Conduct unconcern'd we move Secure from all the threatning Storms that blow From all Attacks of Chance below And reach the certain Haven of Felicity above III. Best Mistress of our Souls whose Charms and Beauties last And are by very Age encreast By which all other Glories are defac'd Thou' rt thy own Dowry and a greater far Than All the Race of Woman-kind e'er brought Tho' each of them like the first Wife were fraught And half the Universe did for her Portion share That tawdry Sex which giddy senseless we Thro' Ignorance so vainly Deifie Are all but glorious Brutes when un-endow'd with thee 'T is Vice alone the truer Jilt and worse In whose Enjoyment tho' we find A flitting Pleasure yet it leaves behind A Pain and Torture in the Mind And claps the wounded Conscience with incurable Remorse Or else betrays us to the great Trepans of Humane Kind IV. 'T is Vice the greater Thraldom harder Drudgery Whereby deposing Reason from its gentle Sway That rightful Sovereign which we should obey We undergo a various Tyranny And to un-number'd servile Passions Homage pay These with AEgyptian Rigor us enslave And govern with unlimited Command They make us endless Toil pursue And still their doubled Tasks renew To push on our too hasty Fate and build our Grave Or which is worse to keep us from the Promis'd Land Nor may we think our Freedom to retrieve We struggle with our heavy Yoak in vain In vain we strive to break that Chain Unless a Miracle relieve Unless th' Almighty Wand enlargement give We never must expect Delivery Till Death the universal Writ of Ease does set us free V. Some sordid Avarice in Vassallage confines Like Roman Slaves condemn'd to th' Mimes These are in its harsh Bridewel lash'd and punished And with hard Labour scarce can earn their Bread Others Ambition that Imperious Dame Exposes cruelly like Gladiators here Upon the World's Great Theatre Thro' Dangers and thro' Blood they wade to Fame To purchase grinning Honor and an empty Name And some by Tyrant-Lust are Captive led And with false Hopes of Pleasure fed 'Till tir'd with Slavery to their own Desires Life's o'er-charg'd Lamp goes out and in a Snuff expires VI. Consider we the little Arts of Vice The Stratagems and Artifice Whereby she does attract her Votaries All those Allurements and those Charms Which pimp Transgressors to her Arms Are but foul Paint and counterfeit Disguise To palliate her own conceal'd Deformities And for false empty Joys betray us to true solid Harms In vain she would her Dowry boast Which clog'd with Legacies we never gain But with unvaluable Cost Which got we never can retain But must the greatest part be lost To the great Bubbles Age or Chance again 'T is vastly over-balanc'd by the Joynture which we make In which our Lives our Souls our All is set at Stake Like silly Indians foolish we With a known Cheat a losing Traffick hold Whilst led by an ill-judging Eye W' admire a trifling Pageantry And merchandize our Jewels and our Gold For worthless Glass and Beads or an Exchange's Frippery If we a while maintain th' expensive Trade Such mighty Impost on the Cargo's laid Such a vast Custom to be paid We 're forc'd at last like wretched Bankrupts to give out Clapt up by Death and in Eternal Durance shut VII What art thou Fame for which so eagerly we strive What art thou but an empty Shade By the Reflection of our Actions made Thou unlike others never follow'st us alive But like a Ghost walk'st only after we are dead Posthumous Toy vain aster-Legacy Which only ours can be When we our selves no more are we Fickle as vain who dost on vulgar Breath depend Which we by dear Experience find More changeable more veering than th' unconstant Wind. What art thou Gold that cheat'st the Miser's Eyes Which he does so devoutly idolize For whom he all his Rest and Ease does sacrifice 'T is Use alone can all thy Value give And he from that no Benefit can e'er receive Curst Mineral near Neighb'ring Hell begot Which all th' Infection of thy damned Neighbourhood hast brought Thou Bawd to Murthers Rapes and Treachery And every greater Name of Villany From thee they all derive their Stock and Pedigree Thou the lewd World with all its crying Crimes dost store And hardly wilt allow the Devil the cause of more And what is Pleasure which does most beguile That Syren which betrays us with a flattering Smile We listen to the treacherous Harmony Which sings but our own Obsequy The Danger unperceiv'd till Death draw nigh Till drowning we want Pow'r to 'scape the fatal Enemy VIII How frantick
less guilt in War th'hadst dy'd And from ensuing mischiefs Mankind freed Or when thou view'dst the Holy Land and Tomb Th'had'st suffer'd there thy brother Traitor's doom Curst be the womb that with the Firebrand teem'd Which ever since has the whole Globe inflam'd More curst that ill-aim'd Shot which basely mist Which maim'd a limb but spar'd thy hated breast And made th' at once a Cripple and a Priest But why this wish The Church if so might lack Champions good works and Saints for th' Almanack These are the Janizaries of the Cause The Life-Guard of the Roman Sultan chose To break the force of Huguenots and Foes The Churches Hawkers in Divinity Who ' stead of Lace and Ribbons Doctrine cry Rome's Strowlers who survey each Continent Its trinkets and commodities to vent Export the Gospel like mere ware for sale And truck't for Indigo and Cutchâ—…neal As the known Factors here the Brethron once Swopt Christ about for Bodkins Rings and Spoons And shall these great Apostles be contemn'd And thus by scoffing Hereticks defam'd They by whose means both Indies now enjoy The two choice Blessings Pox and Popery Which buried else in ignorance had been Nor known the worth of Beads and Bellarmine It pitied holy Mother Church to see A World so drown'd in gross Idolatry It griev'd to see such goodly Nations hold Bad Errors and unpardonable Gold Strange what a zeal can powerful Coin infuse What Charity Pieces of Eight produee So you were chosen th' fittest to reclaim The Pagan World and give 't a Christian Name And great was the success whole Myriads stood At Font and were baptis'd in their own blood Millions of Souls were hurl'd from hence to burn Before their time be damn'd before their turn Yet these were in compassion sent to Hell The rest reserv'd in spite and worse to feel Compell'd instead of Fiends to worship you The more inhumane Devils of the two Rare way and method of Conversion this To make your Votaries your Sacrifice If to destroy be Reformation thought A Plague as well might the good work have wrought Now see we why your Founder weary grown Would lay his former Trade of Killing down He found 't was dull he found a Crown would be A fitter case and badge of cruelty Each sniv'lling Hero Seas of Blood can spill When wrongs provoke and Honour bids him kill Each tiny Bully Lives can freely bleed When press'd by Wine or Punk to knock o' th' head Give me your through-pac'd Rogue who scorns to be Prompted by poor Revenge or Injury But does it of true inbred cruelty Your cool and sober Murderer who prays And stabs at the same time who one hand has Stretch'd up to Heav'n t'other to make the Pass So the late Saints of blessed memory Cut throats in Godly pure sincerity So they with lifted hands and eyes devout Said Grace and carv'd a slaughter'd Monarch out When the first Traitor Cain too good to be Thought Patron of this black Fraternity His bloody Tragedy of old design'd One death alone quench'd his revengeful mind Content with but a quarter of Mankind Had he been Jesuit had he but put on Their savage cruelty the rest had gone His hand had sent old Adam after too And forc'd the Godhead to create anew And yet 't were well were their foul guilt but thought Bare sin 't is something ev'n to own a fault But here the boldest flights of wickedness Are stampt Religion and for currant pass The blackest ugliest horrid'st damned'st deed For which Hell flames the Schools a Title need If done for Holy Church is sanctified This consecrates the blessed Work and Tool Nor must we ever after think 'em foul To undo Realms kill Parents murder Kings Are thus but petty trifles venial things Not worth a Confessor nay Heav'n shall be It self invok'd t'abet th' impiety Grant gracious Lord Some Reverend Villain prays ' That this the bold Assertor of our Cause ' May with success accomplish that great end ' For which he was by thee and us design'd ' Do thou t' his Arm and Sword thy strength impart ' And guide 'em steddy to the Tyrants heart ' Grant him for every meritorious thrust ' Degrees of bliss above among the Just ' Where holy Garnet and S. Guy are plac'd ' Whom works like this before have thither rais'd ' Where they are interceding for us now ' For sure they 're there Yes questionless and so Good Nero is and Dioclesian too And that great ancient Saint Herostratus And the late godly Martyr at Thoulouse Dare something worthy Newgate and the Tow'r If you 'l be canoniz'd and Heav'n ensure Dull prim'tive Fools of old who would be good Who would by virtue reach the blest abode Far other are the ways found out of late Which Mortals to that happy place translate Rebellion Treason Murder Massacre The chief Ingredients now of Saint-ship are And Tyburn only stocks the Calendar Unhappy Judas whose ill fate or chance Threw him upon gross times of ignorance Who knew not how to value or esteem The worth and merit of a glorious crime Should his kind Stars have let him acted now H 'ad dy'd absolv'd and dy'd a Martyr too Hear'st thou Great God such daring blasphemy And let'st thy patient Thunder still lie by Strike and avenge lest impious Atheists say Chance guides the world and has usurp'd thy sway Lest these proud prosp'rous Villains too confess Tou'rt sensless as they make thy Images Thou just and sacred Pow'r wilt thou admit Such Guests should in thy glorious presence sit If Heav'n can with such company dispence Well did the Indian pray Might he keep thence But this we only feign all vain and false As their own Legends Miracles and Tales Either the groundless calumnies of spite Or idle rants of Poetry and Wit We wish they were but you hear Garnet cry ' I did it and would do 't again had I ' As much of Blood as many Lives as Rome ' Has spilt in what the Fools call Martyrdom ' As many Souls as Sins I 'd freely stake ' All them and more for Mother Church's sake For that I 'll stride o're Crowns swim through a Flood ' Made up of slaughter'd Monarch's Brains and ' Blood ' For that no lives of Hereticks I 'll spare ' But reap 'em down with less remorse and care ' Than Tarquin did the Poppy-heads of old ' Or we drop Beads by which our Pray'rs are told Bravely resolv'd and 't was as bravely dar'd But lo the Recompence and great Reward The wight is to the Almanack preferr'd Rare motives to be damn'd for holy Cause A few red Letters and some painted straws Fools who thus truck with Hell by Mohatra And play their Souls against no stakes away 'T is strange with what an holy Impudence The Villain caught his innocence maintains Denies with Oaths the Fact untill it be Less guilt to own it than the perjury By th' Mass and blessed Sacraments he swears This Mary's Milk and
t'other Mary's Tears And the whole muster-roll in Calendars Not yet swallow the Falshood if all this Won't gain a resty Faith he will on 's knees Th' Evangelists and Lady's Psalter kiss To vouch the Lye nay more to make it good Mortgage his Soul upon 't his Heav'n and God Damn'd faithless Hereticks hard to convince Who trust no Verdict but dull obvious Sense Unconscionable Courts who Priests deny Their Benefit o' th' Clergy Perjury Room for the Martyr'd Saints behold they come With what a noble Scorn they meet their Doom Not Knights o' th' Post nor often Carted Whores Shew more of Impudence or less Remorse O glorious and heroick Constancy That can forswear upon the Cart and die With gasping Souls expiring in a Lye None but tame Sheepish Criminals repent Who fear the idle Bugbear Punishment Your Gallant Sinner scorns that Cowardice The poor regret of having done amiss Brave he to his first Principles still true Can face Damnation Sin with Hell in view And bid it take the Soul he does bequeath And blow it thither with his dying breath Dare such as these profess Religion's Name Who should they own't and be believ'd would shame It's Practice out o' th' World would Atheists make Firm in their Creed and vouch it at the Stake Is Heav'n for such whose Deeds make Hell too good Too mild a Penance for their cursed Brood For whose unheard-of Crimes and damned Sake Fate must below new sorts of Torture make Since when of old it fram'd that place of Doom T was thought no guilt like this could thither come Base recreant Souls would you have Kings trust you Who never yet kept your Allegiance true To any but Hell's Prince who with more ease Can swallow down most solemn Perjuries Than a Town Bullie common Oaths and Lies Are the French Harry's Fates so soon forgot Our last blest Tudor or the Powder-Plot And those fine Streamers that adorn'd so long The Bridge and Westminster and yet had hung Were they not stoln and now for Relicks gone Think Tories Loyal or Scotch Covenanters Robb'd Tygers gentle courteous fasting Bears Atheists devout and thrice-wrack'd Mariners Take Goats for Chast and cloister'd Marmosites For plain and open two-edg'd Parasites Believe Bawds modest and the shameless Stews And binding Drunkard Oaths and Strumpet's Vows And when in time these Contradiction meet Then hope to find 'em in a Loyolite To whom tho gasping should I credit give I 'd think 't were Sin and damn'd like unbelief Oh for the Swedish Law enacted here No Scare-crow frightens like a Priest-Gelder Hunt them as Beavers are force them to buy Their Lives with Ransom of their Lechery Or let that wholsome Statute be reviv'd Which England heretofore from Wolves reliev'd Tax every Shire instead of them to bring Each Year a certain tale of Jesuits in And let their mangled Quarters hang the I le To scare all future Vermin from the Soil Monsters avaunt may some kind whirlwind sweep Our Land and drown these Locusts in the deep Hence ye loath'd Objects of our Scorn and Hate With all the Curses of an injur'd State Go foul Impostors to some duller Soil Some easier Nation with your Cheats beguile Where your gross common Gulleries may pass To slur and top on bubled Consciences Where Ignorance and th' Inquisition Rules Where the vile Herd of poor Implicit Fools Are damn'd contentedly where they are led Blindfold to Hell and thank and pay their Guide Go where all your black Tribe before are gone Follow Chastel Ravillac Clement down Your Catesby Faux and Garnet thousands more And those who hence have lately rais'd the Score Where the Grand Traitor now and all the Crew Of his Disciples must receive their Due Where Flames and Tortures of Eternal Date Must punish you yet ne're can expiate Learn duller Feinds your unknown Cruelties Such as no Wit but yours could e're devise No Guilt but yours deserve make Hell confess It self out-done its Devils damn'd for less SATYR III. Loyala's Will LOng had the fam'd Impostor found Success Long seen his damn'd Fraternitâ—…s increase In Wealth and Power Mischief and Guile improv'd By Popeâ—… and Pope-rid Kings upheld and lov'd Laden with Years and Sins and num'rous Scars Got some i' th' Field but most in other Wars Now finding Life decay and Fate draw near Grown ripe for Hell and Roman Calendar He thinks it worth his Holy Thoughts and Care Some hidden Rules and Secrets to Impart The Proofs of longâ—… Experienceâ—… and deep Art Which to his Successors may useful be In conduct of their future Villany Summon'd together all th' Officious Band The Orders of their Bedrid-Chief attend Doubtful what Legacy he will bequeath And wait with greedy Ears his dying Breath With such quick Duty Vassal Fiends below To meet commands of their Dread Monarch go On Pillow rais'd he do's their entrance greet And joys to see the wish'd Assembly meet They in glad Murmurs tell their Joy aloud Then a deep silence stills th' expecting Croud Like Delphick Hag of old by Fiend possest He swells wild Frenzy heaves his panting Brest His bristling Hairs stick up his Eye-Balls glow And from his Mouth long strakes of Drivel flow Thrice with due Rev'rence he himself doth cross Then thus his Hellish Oracles disclose Ye firm Associates of my great Design Whom the same Vows and Oaths and Order joyn The faithful Band whom I and Rome have chofe The last Support of our declining Caufe Whose Conqu'ring Troops I with Success have led Gainst all Opposers of our Church and Head Who e're to the mad German owe their Rise Geneva's Rebels or the hot-brain'd Swiss Revolted Hereticks who late have broke And durst throw off the long-worn Sacred Yoke You by whose happy Influence Rome can boast A greater Empire than by Luther lost By whom wide Nature's far-stretch'd Limits now And utmost Indies to its Crosier Bow Go on ye mighty Champions of our Cause Maintain our Party and subdue our Foes Kill Heresie that rank and pois'nous Weed Which threatens now the Church to overspread Fire Calvin and his Nest of Upstarts out Who tread our Sacred Mitre under Foot Stray'd Germany reduce let it no more Th' Incestuous Monk of Wittemberg adore Make stubborn Engl. once more stoop its Crown And Fealty to our Priestly Sovereign own Regain our Church's Rights the Island clear From all remaining Dregs of Wickliff there Plot Enterprize contrive endeavour spare No toil nor Pains no Death nor Danger fear Restless your Aims pursue let no defeat Your sprightly Courage and Attempts rebate But urge to fresh and bolder ne're to end Till the whole World to our great Caliph bend Till he thro' every Nation every where Bear Sway and Reign as absolute as here Till Rome without controul and Contest be The Universal Ghostly Monarchy Oh! that kind Heaven a longer Thread would give And let me to that happy Juncture live But 't is decreed at this he paus'd and wept The rest alike time with his
Parts or Sense Merit your friendship I have just pretence I honour you said I upon that score And shall be glad to serve you to my power Mean time wild to get loose I try all ways To shake him off Sometimes I walk apace Sometimes stand still I frown I chafe I fret Shrug turn my back as in the Baigno sweat And shew all kind of signs to make him guess At my impatience and uneasiness Happy the solk in Newgate whisper'd I Who tho in Chains are from this torment free Wou'd I were like rough Manly in the Play To send Impertinents with kicks away He all the while baits me with tedious chat Speaks much about the drought and how the rate Of Hay is rais'd and what it now goes at Tells me of a new Comet at the Hague Portending God knows what a Dearth or Plague Names every Wench that passes through the Park How much she is allow'd and who the Spark That keeps her points who lately got a Clap And who at the Groom-Porters had ill hap Three nights ago in play with such a Lord When he observ'd I minded not a word And did no answer to his trash afford Sir I perceive you stand on Thorns said he And fain would part but faith it must not be Come let us take a Bottle I cried No Sir I am in a Course and dare not now Then tell me whether you desire to go I 'll wait upon you Oh! Sir 't is too far I visit cross the Water therefore spare Your needless trouble Trouble Sir 't is none 'T is more by half to leave you here alone I have no present business to attend At least which I 'll not quit for such a Friend Tell me not of the distance for I vow I 'll cut the Line double the Cape for you Good faith I will not leave you make no words Go you to Lambeth Is it to my Lords His Steward I most intimately know Have often drunk with his Comptroller too By this I found my Wheadle would not pass But rather serv'd my suff'rings to increase And seeing 't was in vain to vex or fret I patiently submitted to my Fate Strait he begins again Sir if you knew My worth but half so throughly as I do I 'm sure you would not value any Friend You have like me but that I won't commend My self and my own Talents I might tell How many ways to wonder I excel None has a greater gift in Poetry Or writes more Verses with more ease than I I 'm grown the envy of the men of Wit I kill'd ev'n Rochester with grief and spight Next for the Dancing part I all surpass St. Andrew never mov'd with such a grace And'tis well known when e're I sing or set Humphreys nor Blow could ever match me yet Here I got room to interrupt Have you A Mother Sir or Kindred living now Not one they are all dead Troth so I guest The happier they said I who are at rest Poor I am only left unmurder'd yet Haste I beseech you and dispatch me quite For I am well convinc'd my time is come When I was young a Gypsie told my doom This Lad said she and look'd upon my hand Shall not by Sword or Poyson come to 's end Nor by the Fever Dropsie Gout or Stone But he shall die by an eternal Tongue Therefore when he 's grown up if he be wise Let him avoid great Talkers I advise By this time we were got to Westminster Where he by chance a Trial had to hear And if he were not there his Cause must fall Sir if you love me step into the Hall For one half hour The Devil take me now Said I if I know any thing of Law Besides I told you whither I 'm to go Hereat he made a stand pull'd down his Hat Over his eyes and mus'd in deep debate I 'm in a straight said he what I shall do Whether forsake my business Sir or you Me by all means say I No says my Sot I fear you 'l take it ill If I should do 't I 'm sure you will Not I by all that 's good But I 've more breeding than to be so rude Pray don't neglect your own concerns for me Your Cause good Sir My Cause be damu'd says he I value 't less than your dear Company With this he came up to me and would lead The way I sneaking after hung my head Next he begins to plague me with the Plot Asks whether I were known to Oats or not Not I ' thank Heaven I no. Priest have been Have never Doway nor St. Omers seen What think you Sir will they Fitz-Harris try Will he die think you Yes most certainly I mean be hang'd Would thou wert so wish'd I. Religion came in next tho he 'd no more Than the Freneb King his Punk or Confessor Oh! the sad times if once the King should die Sir are you not afraid of Popery No more than my Superiors why should I I 've no Estate in Ally Lands to lose But Fire and Faggot Sir how like you these Come Inquisition any thing thought I So Heav'n would bless me to get rid of thee But 't is some comfort that my Hell is here I need no punishment hereafter fear Scarce had I thought but he falls on anew How stands it Sir betwixt his Grace and you Sir he 's a man of sense above the Crowd And shuns the Converse of a Multitude Ay Sir Says he you 're happy who are near His Grace and have the favour of his ear But let me tell you if you 'l recommend This person here your point will soon be gain'd Gad Sir I 'll die if my own single Wit Don't Fob his Minions and displace 'em quite And make your self his only Favourite No you are out abundantly said I We live not as you think no Family Throughout the whole three Kingdoms is more free From those ill Customs which are us'd to swarm In great mens houses none e're does me harm Because more Learned or more Rich than I But each man keeps his Place and his Degree 'T is mighty strange says he what you relate But nothing truer take my word for that You make me long to be admitted too Amongst his Creatures Sir I beg that you Will stand my Friend Your Interest is such You may prevail I 'm sure you can do much He 's one that may be won upon I 've heard Tho at the first approach access be hard I 'll spare no trouble of my own or Friends No cost in Fees and Bribes to gain my ends I 'll seek all opportunities to meet With him accost him in the very street Hang on his Coach and wait upon him home Fawn Scrape and Cringe to him nay to his Groom Faith Sir this must be done If we 'll be great Preferment comes not at a cheaper rate While at this Savage rate he worried me By chance a Doctor my dear Friend came by
in her pain and smart The poor Adonis dead by turns they cry And strive in grief the Goddess to out-vie The Muses too in softest Lays bewail The hapless Youth and his fled Soul recal But all in vain ah numbers are too weak To call the lost the dead Adonis back Not all the pow'rs of Verse or charms of Love The deaf remorsless Proserpine can move Cease then sad Queen of Love thy plaints give o're Till the next year reserve thy grief in store Reserve thy Sighs and tears in store till then Then thou must sigh then thou must weep agen Paraphrase upon the 137. Psalm 1. Ver. 1. FAr from our pleasant native Palestine Where great Euphrates with a mighty current flows And does in watry limits Babylon confine Curss'd Babylon the cause and author of our woes There on the Rivers side Sate wretched Captive we And in sad Tears bewail'd our misery Tears whose vast store increas'd the neighb'ring Tide We wept and strait our grief before us brought A thousand distant Objects to our thought As oft as we survey'd the gliding Stream Lov'd Jordan did our sad remembrance claim As oft as we th' adjoyning City view'd Dear Sions razed Walls our Grief renew'd We thought on all the Pleasures of our happy Land Late ravish'd by a cruel Conqu'rour's hand We thought on every piteous every mournful thing That might access to our enlarged sorrows bring Deep silence told the greatness of our Grief Of grief too great by Vent to find relief Our Harps as mute and dumb as we Hung useless and neglected by And now and then a broken String would lend a sigh As if with us they selt a sympathy And mourn'd their own and our Captivity The gentle River too as if compassionate grown As 't would its Natives cruelty attone As it pass'd by in murmurs gave a pitying Groan 2. There the proud Conquerors who gave us Chains Who all our suff'rings and misfortunes gave Did with rude Insolence our Sorrows brave And with insulting Raillery thus mock'd our Pains Play us said they some brisk and airy strain Such as your Ancestors were wont to hear On Shilo 's pleasant Plain Where all the Virgins met in Dances once a year Or one of those Which your illustrious David did compose While he fill'd Israel 's happy Throne Great Soldier Poet and Musician all in one Oft have we heard he went with Harp in hand Captain of all 〈◊〉 harmonious Band And vanquish'd all the Quire with 's single skill alone Forbid it Heav'n sorbid thou great thrice-hallow'd Name We should thy Sacred Hymns defame Or them with impious ears profane No no inhumane slaves is this a time Oh cruel and preposterous demand When every Joy and every Smile 's a crime A Treason to our poor unhappy native Land Is this a time for sprightly Airs When every look the Badg of sorrow wears And Livery of our Miseries Sad miseries that call for all our Breath in sighs And all the Tribute of our eyes And moisture of our Veins our very bloud in tears When nought can claim our Thoughts Jerusalem but thou Nought but thy sad Destruction Fall and Overthrow 3. Oh dearest City late our Nations justest Pride Envy of all the wond'ring world beside Oh sacred Temple once th' Almighty's bless'd abode Now quite forsaken by our angry God! Shall ever distant time or Place Your firm Ideas from my Soul deface Shall they not still take up my Breast As long as that and Life and I shall last Grant Heav'n nor shall my Pray'rs the Curse withstand That this my learned skilful hand Which now o're all the tuneful strings can boast command Which does as quick as ready and unerring prove As nature when it would its joynts or fingers move Grant it forget its Art and feeling too When I forget to think to wish to pray for you For ever tied with Dumbness be my tongue When it speaks ought that shall not to your Praise belong If that be not the constant subject of my Muse and Song 4. Remember Heav'n remember Edom on that day And with like sufferings their spight repay Who made our Miseries their cruel Mirth and Scorn Who laugh'd to see our flaming City burn And wish'd it might to Ashes turn Raze raze it was their cursed cry Raze all its stately Structures down And lay its Palaces and Temple level with the ground Till Sion buried in his dismal Ruines lie Forgot alike its Place its Name and Memory And thou proud Babylon just Object of our Hate Thou too shalt feel the sad reverse of Fate Tho thou art now exalted high And with thy lofty head o'retop'st the Sky As if thou would'st the Pow'rs above defie Thou if those Pow'rs and sure they will prove just If my Prophetick Grief can ought foresee Ere long shalt lay that lofty head in dust And blush in Bloud for all thy present Cruelty How loudly then shall we retort these bitter Taunts How gladly to the Musick of thy Fetters dance 5. A day will come oh might I see 't e're long That shall revenge our mighty wrong Then bless'd for ever bless'd be he Whoever shall return't on thee And grave it deep and pay 't with bloudy Usury May neither aged Groans nor Infant Cries Nor pitious Mothers Tears nor ravish'd Virgins Sighs Soften thy unrelenting Enemies Let them as thou to us inexorable prove Nor Age nor Sex their deaf Compassion move Rapes Murders Slaughters Funerals And all thou durst attempt within our Sions Wall May'st thou endure and more till joyful we Confess thy self out-done in artful cruelty Bless'd yea thrice blessed be that barbarous Hand Oh grief that I such dire Revenge commend Who tears out Infants from their Mothers Womb And hurls them yet unborn unto their Tomb Bless'd he who plucks them from their Parents Arms That Sanctuary from all common harms Who with their Skulls and Bones shall pave thy Streets all o're And fill thy glutted Channels with their scatter'd Brains and Gore Paraphrase upon the HYMN of St. AMBROSE ODE 1. TO Thee O God we thy just Praises sing To Thee we Thy great Name rehearse We are Thy Vassals and this humble Tribute bring To Thee acknowledg'd only Lord and King Acknowledg'd sole and Sovereign Monarch of the Universe All parts of this wide Universe adore Eternal Father thy Almighty power The Skies and Stars Fire Air and Earth and Sea With all their numerous nameless Progeny Confess and their due Homage pay to thee For why thou spak'st the Word and mad'st them all from Nothing be To thee all Angels all thy glorious Court on high Seraph and Cherub the Nobility And whatsoever Spirits be Of lesser Honour less Degree To Thee in heav'nly Lays They sing loud Anthems of immortal Praise Still Holy Holy Holy Lord of Hosts they cry This is their bus'ness this their sole employ And thus they spend their long and blest Eternity 2. Farther than Natures utmost shores and limits stretch The
streams of thy unbounded Glory reach Beyond the straits of scanty Time and Place Beyond the ebbs and flows of matter 's narrow Seas They reach and fill the Ocean of Eternity and Space Infus'd like some vast mighty soul Thon do'st inform and actuate this spacious whole Thy unseen hand does the well-joynted Frame sustain Which else would to its primitive Nothing shrink again But most thou do'st thy Majesty display In the bright Realms of everlasting Day There is Thy residence there do'st Thou reign There on a State of dazling Lustre sit There shine in Robes of pure refined Light Where Sun 's coarse Rays are but a Foil and Stain And refuse Stars the sweepings of thy glorious Train 3. There all Thy Family of menial Saints Huge Colonies of bless'd Inhabitants Which Death through countless Ages has transplanted hence Now on Thy Throne for ever wait And fill the large Retinue of thy heav'nly State There reverend Prophets stand a pompous goodly show Of old thy Envoys extraordinary here Who brought thy sacred Embassies of Peace and War That to th' obedient this the rebel world below By them the mighty Twelve have their abode Companions once of the Incarnate suffâ—…ring God Partakers now of all his Triumphs there As they on earth did in his Miseries share Of Martyrs next a crown'd and glorious Quire Illustrious Heroes who have gain'd Through dangers and Red Seas of Bloud the Promis'd Land And pass'd through Ordeal Flames to the Eternity in Fire There all make up the Consort of thy Praise To Thee they sing and never cease Loud Hymns and Hallelujah's of Applause An Angel-Laureat does the Sense and Strains compose Sense far above the reach of mortal Verse Strains far above the reach of mortal ears And all a Muse unglorified can fancy or rehearse 4. Nor is this Consort only kept above Nor is it to the Bless'd alone confin'd But Earth and all thy Faithful here are joyn'd And strive to vie with them in Duty and in Love And tho they cannot equal Notes and Measures raise Strive to return th' imperfect Ecchoes of thy Praise They through all Nations own thy glorious Name And every where the great Three-One proclaim Thee Father of the World and Us and Him Who must Mankind whom Thou didst make Redeem Thee blessed Saviour the ador'd true only Son To man debas'd to rescue Man undone And Thee Eternal Holy Power Who do'st by Grace exalted Man restore To all he lost by the old Fall and Sin before You bless'd and glorious Trinity Riddle to baffled Knowledg and Philosophy Which cannot conprehend the mighty Mystery Of numerous One and the unnumber'd Three Vast topless Pile of Wonders at whose sight Reason it self turns giddy with the height Above the flutt'ring pitch of humane Wit And all but the strong wings of Faith that Eagle's towring flight 5. Bless'd Jesu how shall we enough adore Or thy unbounded Love or thy unbounded Pow'r Thou art the Prince of Heav'n thou are the Almighty's Heir Thou art th' Eternal Off-spring of th' Eternal Sire Hail thou the Worlds Redeemer whom to free From bonds of Death and endless misery Thou thought'st it no disdain to be Inhabiter in low mortality Th' Almighty thought it no disdain To dwell in the pure Virgins spotless Womb There did the boundless Godhead and whole Heav'n find room And a small point the Circle of Infinity contain Hail Ransom of Mankind all-great all-good Who didst attone us with thy Bloud Thy self the Offering Altar Priest and God Thy self didst die to be our glorious Bail From Death's Arrests and the eternal Flaming Jail Thy self thou gav'st th' inestimable Price To Purchase and Redeem our morgag'd Heav'n and Happiness Thither when thy great Work on Earth had end When Death it self was slain and dead And Hell with all its Powers captive led Thou didst again triumphantly Ascend There do'st Thou now by Thy great Father sit on high With equal Glory equal Majesty Joynt-Ruler of the everlasting Monarchy 6. Again from thence thou shalt with greater triumph come When the last Trumpet sounds the general Doom And lo thou com'st and lo the direful sound does make Through Deaths wide Realm Mortality awake And lo they all appear At Thy Dread Bar And all receive th' unalterable Sentence there Affrighted Nature trembles at the dismal Day And shrinks for fear and vanishes away Both that and Time breath out their last and now they die And now are swallow'd up and lost in vast Eternity Mercy O mercy angry God! Stop stop thy flaming Wrath too fierce to be withstood And quench it with the Deluge of thy Bloud Thy precious Bloud which was so freely spilt To wash us from the stains of Sin and Guilt O write us with it in the Book of Fate Amongst thy Chosen and Predestinate Free Denizens of Heav'n of the Immortal State 7. Guide us O Saviour guide thy Church below Both Way and Star Compass and Pilot Thou Do thou this frail and tâ—…tt'ring Vessel steer Through Life's tempestuous Ocean here Through all the tossing Waves of Fear And dang'rous Rocks of black Despair Safe under Thee we shall to the wish'd Haven move And reach the undiscover'd Lands of Bliss above Thus low behold to thy great Name we bow And thus we ever wish to grow Constant as Time does thy fix'd Laws obey To Thee our Worship and our Thanks we pay With these we wake the chearful Light With these we Sleep and Rest invite Anâ—… thus we spend our Breath and thus we spend our Days And never cease to Sing and never cease to Praise 8. While thus each Breast and Mouth and Ear Are filled with thy Praise and Love and Fear Let never Sin get room or entrance there Vouchsafe O Lord through this and all our days To guard us with Thy pow'rful Grace Within our hearts let no usurping Lust be found No rebel Passion tumult raise To break thy Laws or break our Peace But set thy Watch of Angels on the Place And keep the Tempter still from that forbidden ground Ever O Lord to us thy mercies grant Never O Lord let us thy mercies want Ne're want Thy Favour Bounty Liberality But let them ever on us be Constant as our own Hope and Trust on Thee On Thee we all our Hope and Trust repose O never leave us to our Foes Never O Lord desert our Cause Thus aided and upheld by Thee We 'll fear no Danger Death nor Misery Fearless we thus will stand a falling world With crushing Ruins all about us hurl'd And face wide gaping Hell all its slighted Pow'rs defie A Letter from the Country to a Friend in Town giving an Account of the Author's Inclinations to Poetry Written in July 1678. AS to that Poet if so great a one as he May suffer in comparison with me When heretofore in Scythian exile pent To which he to ungrateful Rome was sent If a kind Paper from his Country came And wore subscrib'd some known and faithful
the noise of Wits And thousand other Plagues which up and down Each day and hour infest the cursed Town As Fate wou'd have 't on the appointed day Of parting hence I met him on the way Hard by Mile-end the place so fam'd of late In Prose and Verse for the great Factions Treat Here we stood still and after Complements Of course and wishing his good Journey hence I ask'd what sudden causes made him slie The once-lov'd Town and his dear Company When on the hated Prospect looking back Thus with just rage the good old Timon spake Since Virtue here in no repute is had Since Worth is scorn'd Learning and Sense un paid And Knavery the only thriving Trade Finding my slender Fortune every day Dwindle and waste insensibly away I like a losing Gamester thus retreat To manage wiselier my last stake of Fate While I have strength and want no staff to prop My tott'ring Limbs e're Age has made me stoop Beneath its weight e're all my Thread be spun And Life has yet in store some Sands to run 'T is my Resolve to quit the nauseous Town Let thriving Morecraft chuse his dwelling there Rich with the Spoils of some young spend-thrist Heir Let the Plot-mongers stay behind whose Art Can Truth to Sham and Sham to Truth convert Who â—…ver has an House to Build or Set His Wife his Conscience or his Oath to let Who ever has or hopes for Offices A Navy Guard or Custom-house's Place Let sharping Courtiers stay who there are great By putting the false Dice on King and State Where they who once were Grooms and Foot-Boys known Are now to fair Estates and Honours grown Nor need we envy them or wonder much At their fantastick Greatness since they 're such Whom Fortune oft in her capricious freaks Is pleas'd to raise from Kennels and the Jakes To Wealth and Dignity above the rest When she is frolick and dispos'd to jest I live in London What should I do there I cannot lye nor flatter nor forswear I can't commend a Book or Piece of Wit Tho a Lord were the Author dully writ I 'm no Sir Sydrophel to read the Stars And cast Nativities for longing Heirs When Fathers shall drop off no Gadbury To tell the minute when the King shall die And you know what come in nor can I steer And tack about my Conscience whensoe're To a new Point I see Religion veer Let others pimp to Courtier 's Lechery I 'll draw no City-Cuckold's Curse on me Nor would I do it tho to be made great And rais'd to the chief Ministry of State Therefore I think it fit to rid the Town Of one that is an useless member grown Besides who has pretence to Favour now But he who hidden Villany does know Whose Breast does with some burning Secret glow By none thou shalt preferr'd or valued be That trusts thee with an honest Secresie He only may to great mens Friendship reach Who Great Men when he pleases can impeach Let others thus aspire to Dignity For me I 'd not their envied Grandeur buy For all th' Exchange is worth that Pauls will cost Or was of late in the Scotch Voyage lost What would it boot if I to gain my end Forgo my Quiet and my ease of mind Still fear'd at last betray'd by my great Friend Another Cause which I must boldly own And not the least for which I quit the Town Is to behold it made the Common-shore Where France does all her Filth and Ordure pour What Spark of true old English rage can bear Those who were Slaves at home to Lord it here We 've all our Fashions Language Complements Our Musick Dances Curing Cooking thence And we shall have their Pois'ning too e're long If still in the improvement we go on What would'st thou say great Harry should'st thou view Thy gawdy flutt'ring Race of English now Their tawdry Cloaths Pulvilio's Essences Their Chedreux Perruques and those Vanities Which thou and they of old did so despise What Would'st thou say to see th' infected Town With the fowl Spawn of Foreiners o're-run Hither from Paris and all Parts they come The Spue and Vomit of their Goals at home To Court they flock and to St. James his Square And wriggle into Great Mens Service there Foot-boys at first till they from wiping Shooes Grow by degrees the Masters of the House Ready of Wit harden'd of Impudence Able with eaâ—…e to put down either H Both the King's Player and King's Evidence Flippant of Talk and voluble of Tongue With words at will no Lawyer better hung Softer than flattering Court-Parasite Or City-Trader when he means to cheat No Calling or Profession comes amiss A needy Monsieur can be what he please Groom Page Valet Quack Operator Fencer Perfumer Pimp Jack-pudding Juggler Dancer Give but the word the Cur will fetch and bring Come over to the Emperour or King Or if you please fly o're the Pyramid Which J n and the rest in vain have tried Can I have patience and endure to see The paltry Forein Wretch take place of me Whom the same Wind and Vessel brought ashore That brought prohibited Goods and Dildoes o're Then pray what mighty Priviledge is there For me that at my Birth drew English Air And where 's the Benefit to have my Veins Run British Bloud if there 's no difference 'Twixt me and him the Statute Freedom gave And made a Subject of a true-born Slave But nothing shocks and is more loath'd by me Than the vile Rascal 's fulsom Flattery By help of this false Magnifying Glass A Louse or Flea shall for a Camel pass Produce an hideous Wight more ugly far Than those ill Shapes which in old Hangings are He 'l make him strait a Beau Garzon appear Commend his Voice and Singing tho he bray Worse than Sir Martin Marr-all in the Play And if he Rhime shall praise for Standard Wit More scurvy sense than Pryn and Vickars Writ And here 's the mischief tho we say the same He is believ'd and we are thought to sham Do you but smile immediately the Beast Laughs out aloud tho he ne'r heard the Jest Pretend you 're sad he 's presently in Tears Yet grieves no more than Marble when it wears Sorrow in Metaphor but speak of Heat O God! how sultry ' t is he 'l cry and sweat In depth of Winter strait if you complain Of Cold the Weather glass is sunk again Then he 'l call for his Frize-Campaign and swear 'T is beyond Eighty he 's in Greenland here Thus he shifts Scenes and oft'ner in a day Can change his Face than Actors at a Play There 's nought so mean can scape the flatt'ring Sot Not his Lord's Snuff-box nor his Powder-Spot If he but Spit or pick his Teeth he 'l cry How every thing becomes you let me die Your Lordship does it most judiciously And swear 't is fashionable if he Sneeze Extremely taking and it needs must please Besides there 's