So vaft, our new Divines, we must confefs,
Are Fathers of the Church for writing less.
But let them write for you, each rogue impairs
The deeds, and dextrously omits, fes heires:
No Commentator can more flily pass
O'er a learn'd, unintelligible place;
Or, in quotation, shrewd Divines leave out
Those words, that would againft them clear the doubt.
So Luther thought the Pater-nofter long,
When doom'd to say his beads and Even-fong;
But having caft his cowle, and left those laws,
Adds to Chrift's pray'r, the Power and Glory clause.

105

The lands are bought; but where are to be found Thofe ancient woods, that fhaded all the ground? We fee no new-built palaces afpire,

#No kitchens emulate the vestal fire.

100

reprefentation of the first part of his conduct was to ridicule his want of devotion; as the other, where he tells us, that the addition was the power and glory claufe, was to fatirize his ambition; and both together to infinuate that, from a Monk, he was become totally fecularized.-About this time of his life Dr. Donne had a ftrong propenfity to Popery, which appears ! from several strokes in thefe fatires. We find amongst his works, a fhort fatirical thing called a Catalogue of rare books, one article of which is intitled, M. Lutberus de abbreviatione Orationis Dominica, alluding to Luther's omiffion of the concluding Doxology, in his two Catechifms, which fhews he was fond of the joke; and, in the first inftance, (for the fake of his moral) at the expence of truth. As his putting Erafmus and Reuchlin in the rank of Lully and Agrippa shews what were

111

Where the old landlords troops, and almes? In halls Carthufian Fafts, and fulfome. Bacchanals

Equally I hate. Mean's bleft. In rich men's homes
I bid kill fome beafts, but no hecatombs;
None ftarve, none furfeit fo. But (oh) we allow
Good works as good, but out of fashion now,
Like old rich wardrobes. But my words none draws
Within the vast reach of th' huge ftatutes jawes.

VER. 127. Treafon, or the Lawv.] By the Law is here meant the Lawyers.

115

Where are thofe troops of Poor, that throng'd of yore
The good old landlord's hofpitable door?
Well, I could wifh, that ftill in lordly domes
Some beasts were kill'd, tho' not whole hecatombs;
That both extremes were banish'd from their walls,
Carthufian fafts, and fulfome Bacchanals;
And all mankind might that juft Mean observe,
In which none e'er could furfeit, none could starve.
These as good works, 'tis true, we all allow;
But oh! thefe works are not in fashion now:
Like rich old wardrobes, things extremely rare,
Extremely fine, but what no man will wear.

121

Thus much I've faid, I truft, without offence;
Let no Court Sycophant pervert my sense,
Nor fly Informer watch these words to draw
Within the reach of Treason, or the Law.

126

SATIRE IV.

W

ELL; I may now receive, and die. My fin Indeed is great, but yet I have been in A Purgatory, fuch as fear'd hell is

A recreation, and scant map of this.

My mind, neither with pride's itch, nor hath been Poyfon'd with love to fee or to be feen,

I had no fuit there, nor new fuit to show,
Yet went to Court; but as Glare which did go
To Mafs in jeft, catch'd, was fain to disburse
Two hundred markes, which is the Statutes curfe,
Before he fcap'd; fo it pleas'd my destiny
(Guilty of my fin of going) to think me
As prone to all ill, and of good as forget-
full, as proud, luftfull, and as much in debt,
As vain, as witless, and as false, as they
Which dwell in Court, for once going that way.

VER. 10. Nor the vain itch t'admire, or be admir'd ;] Courtiers have the same pride in admiring, that Poets have in being admir`d, For Vanity as often gratified in paying our court to our fupe. riors, as in receiving it from our inferiors.

SATIRE IV.

W

ELL, if it be my time to quit the stage, Adieu to all the follies of the age! I die in charity with fool and knave, Secure of peace at leaft beyond the grave. I've had my Purgatory here betimes, And paid for all my fatires, all my rhymes. The Poet's hell, its tortures, fiends, and flames, To this were trifles, toys and empty names.

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With foolish pride my heart was never fir'd,
Nor the vain itch t'admire, or be admir'd;
I hop'd for no commiffion from his Grace;
I bought no benefice, I begg'd no place;
Had no new verfes, nor new fuit to show;
Yet went to Court !-the Dev'l would have it fo.
But, as the Fool that in reforming days
Would go to Mafs in jeft (as ftory fays)
Could not but think, to pay his fine was odd,
Since 'twas no form'd defign of ferving God;
So was I punish'd, as if full as proud
As prone to ill, as negligent of good,
As deep in debt, without a thought to pay,
As vain, as idle, and as falfe, as they
Who live at Court, for going once that way!

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