Selected quad for the lemma: spirit_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A59287
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Absalom Senior, or, Achitophel transpros'd a poem.
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Settle, Elkanah, 1648-1724.
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1682
(1682)
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Wing S2653; ESTC R4134
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24,352
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82
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Court These for their Countries Right their Votes still pass Mov'd like the Water in a Weather-glass Higher or lower as the powerful Charm O th' Soveraign Hand is either cool or warm Here must th'Attacque be made for well we know Reason and Titles from one Fountain flow Whilst Favour Men no less than Fortunes builds And Honour ever Moulds as well as Guilds Honour that still does even new Souls inspire Honour more powerful than the Heav'n-stoln Fire These must be wrought to Absolons Defence For though to baffle the whole Sanedrims Sence T' attempt Impossibles would be in vain Yet 't is enough but to Divide and Raign Here though small Force such easie Converts draws Yet 't is thought fit in glory to their Cause Some learned Champion of prodigious Sense With Mighty and long studyed Eloquence Should with a kind of Inspiration rise And the unguarded Sanedrim surprize And such resistless conquering Reasons press To charm their vanquisht Souls that the Success Might look like Conscience though 't is nothing less For this Design no Head nor Tongue so well As that of the profound Achitophel How great Achitophel his Hand his Tongue Babylons Mortal Foe he who so long With haughty Sullenness and scornful Lowr Had loath'd false Gods and Arbitrary pow'r 'Gainst Baal no Combatant more fierce than he For Israels asserted Liberty No Man more bold with generous Rage enflam'd Against the old eâ—snaring Test declaim'd Besides he bore a most peculiar Hate To sleeping Pilots all Earth-clods of State None more abhorr'd the Sycophant Buffoon And Parasite th'excrescence of a Throne Creatures who their creating Sun disgrace A Brood more abject than Niles Slime-born Race Such was the Brave Achitophel a Mind If but the Heart and Face were of a kind So far from being by one base Thought deprav'd That sure half ten such Souls had Sodom sav'd Here Baals Cabal Achitophel survey'd And dasht with wonder half despairing said Is this the Hand that Absolon must Crown The Founder of his Temples Palace Throne This This the mighty Convert we must make Gods h' has a Soul not all our Arts can shake At this a Wiser graver Head stept out And with this Language chid their groundless Doubt For shame no more what is 't that frights you thus Is it his Hatred of our God and us Makes him so formidable in your Eye Or is 't his Wit Sense Honour Bravery Give him a thousand Virtues more and plant Them round him like a Wall of Adamant Strong as the Gates of Heaven we 'll reach his Heart Cheer cheer my Friends I 've found one Mortal part For he has Pride a vast insatiate Pride Kind Stars he 's vulnerable on that side Pride that made Angels fall and Pride that hurl'd Entayl'd Destruction through a ruin'd World Adam from Pride to Disobedience ran To be like Gods made a lost wretched Man There there my Sons let our pour'd strength all fly For some bold Tempter now to rap him high From Pinnacles to Mountain Tops and show The gaudy Glories of the World below At which the Consult came to this Design To work him by a kind of Touch Divine To raise some holy Spright to do the Feat Nothing like Dreams and Visions to the Great Did not a little Witch of Endor bring A Visionary Seer t' a cheated King And shall their greater Magick want Success Their more Illustrious Sorceries do less This final Resolution made at last Some Mystick words and invocations past They call'd the Spirit of a late Court-Scribe Once a true Servant of the Plotting Tribe When both with Forreign and Domestick Cost He plaid the feasted Sanedrims kind Host. H 'had scribbled much and like a Patriot bold Bid high for Israels Peace with Egypts Gold But since a Martyr Why as Writers think His Masters Hand had over-gall'd his Ink. And by protesting Absoloms wise care Popt into Brimstone ere he was aware Him from the Grave they rais'd in ample kind His sever'd Head to his seer Quarters joyn'd Then cas'd his Chin in a false Beard so well As made him pass for Father Samuel Him thus equipt in a Religious Cloak They thus his new-made Reverence bespoke Go awful Spright hast to Achitophel Rouze his great Soul use every Art Charm Spell For Absolom thy utmost Rhetorick try Preach him Succession roar'd Succession cry Succession drest in all her glorious pride Succession Worshipt Sainted Deâ—fy'd Conjure him by Divine and Humane Pow'rs Convince Convert Confound make him but ours That Absolon may mount on Iudahs Throne Whilst all the World before us is our own The forward Spright but few Instructions lackt Strait by the Moons pale light away he packt And in a trice his Curtains open'd wide He sate him by Achitophels Bed-side And in this style his artful Accents ran Hear Israels Hope thou more than happy Man Beloved on high witness this Honour done By Father Samuel and believe me Son 'T is by no common Mandate of a God A Soul beatifyed the blest Abode Thus low deserting quits Immortal Thrones And from his Grave resumes his sleeping Bones But Heaven 's the Guide and wondrous is the way Divine the Embassie hear and obey How long Achitophel and how profâ—â—nd A Mist of Hell has thy lost Reason drown'd Can the Apostacy from Israels Faith In Israels Heir deserve a murmuring Breath Or to preserve Religion Liberty Peace Nations Souls is that a Cause so high As the Right Heir from Empire to debar Forbid it Heav'n and guard him every Star Alas what if an Heir of Royal Pâ—ace Gods Glory and his Temples will deface And make a prey of your Estates Lives Laws Nay give your Sons to Molocks burning paws Shall you exclude him hold that Impious Hand As Abraham gave his Son 〈◊〉 Gods Command Think still he does by Divine Right 〈◊〉 God bids Him Reign and you should bid Them Bleed 'T is true as Heav'ns Elected Flock you may For his Conversion and your Safety pray But Pray'rs are all To Disinherit him The very Thought nay Word it self a Crime For that 's the MEANS of Safety but forbear For Means are Impious in the Sons of Pray'r To Miracles alone your Safety owe And Abrahams Angel wait to stop the Blow Yes what if his polluted Throne be strowd With Sacriledge Idolatry and Blood And 't is you mount him there you 're innocent still For he 's a King and Kings can do no ill Oh Royal Birthright 't is a Sacred Name Rowze then Achitophel rowze up for shame Let not this Lethargy thy Soul benum But wake and save the Godlike Absolom And to reward thee for a Deed so great Glut thy Desires thy full-crown'd wishes meet Be with accumulated Honours blest And grasp a STAR t' adorn thy shining Crest Achitophel before his Eyes could ope Dreamt of an Ephod Mitre and a Cope Those visionary Robes t' his Eyes appear'd For Priestly all was the great Sense he heard But Priest or Prophet Right Divine or all