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Religion fhews a rofy-colour'd face;

Not batter'd out with drudging works of grace:
A down-hill reformation rolls apace.

What flesh and blood would crowd the narrow gate,
Or, till they waste their pamper'd paunches, wait?
All would be happy at the cheapest rate."

Though our lean faith these rigid laws has given,
The full-fed Muffulman goes fat to heaven;
For his Arabian prophet with delights
Of fenfe allur'd his eaftern profelytes.
The jolly Luther, reading him, began
T'interpret Scriptures by his Alcoran ;
To grub the thorns beneath our tender feet,
And make the paths of Paradife more sweet:
Bethought him of a wife ere half way gone,
For 'twas uneafy traveling alone;

And, in this masquerade of mirth and love,
Miftook the blifs of heaven for Bacchanals above.
Sure he prefum'd of praise, who came to stock
Th' etherial paftures with fo fair a flock,
Burnish'd, and battening on their food, to show
Their diligence of careful herds below.

Our Panther, though like these she chang'd her head, Yet as the mistress of a monarch's bed,

Her front erect with majefty fhe bore,
The crofier weilded, and the mitre wore.
Her upper part of decent difcipline

Shew'd affectation of an ancient line;

And fathers, councils, church and church's head,
Were on her reverend phylacteries read.

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But what disgrac'd and disavow'd the rest,
Was Calvin's brand, that ftigmatiz'd the beast.
Thus, like a creature of a double kind,
In her own labyrinth fhe lives confin'd.
To foreign lands no found of her is come,
Humbly content to be defpis'd at home.
Such is her faith, where good cannot be had,
At least the leaves the refufe of the bad:

Nice in her choice of ill, though not of best,
And leaft deform'd, becaufe deform'd the least.
In doubtful points betwixt her differing friends,
Where one for substance, one for fign contends,
Their contradicting terms the strives to join ;
Sign fhall be fubftance, fubftance shall be sign.
A real prefence all her fons allow,

And yet 'tis flat idolatry to bow,

Because the godhead 's there they know not how.
Her novices are taught, that bread and wine
Are but the visible and outward fign,
Receiv'd by those who in communion join.
But th' inward grace, or the thing fignify'd,
His blood and body, who to fave us dy'd;
The faithful this thing fignify'd receive:
What is 't thofe faithful then partake or leave?
For what is fignify'd and understood,
Is, by her own confeffion, flesh and blood.
Then, by the fame acknowledgment, we know
They take the fign, and take the fubftance too.
The literal fenfe is hard to flesh and blood,
But nonfenfe never can be understood.

Her

Her wild belief on every wave is tost;
But fure no church can better morals boaft.
True to her king her principles are found;
Oh that her practice were but half fo found!
Stedfaft in various turns of state she stood,
And feal'd her vow'd affection with ber blood:
Nor will I meanly tax her conftancy,

That intereft or obligement made the tye.
Bound to the fate of murder'd monarchy,
Before the founding ax fo falls the vine,
Whose tender branches round the poplar twine,
She chofe her ruin, and refign'd her life,
In death undaunted as an Indian wife :
A rare example! but fome fouls we fee
Grow hard, and stiffen with adversity :
Yet these by fortune's favours are undone ;
Refolv'd into a bafer form they run,

And bore the wind, but cannot bear the fun.
Let this be nature's frailty, or her fate,
Or Ifgrim's counsel, her new-chosen mate;
Still fhe's the fairest of the fallen crew,
No mother more indulgent but the true.
Fierce to her foes, yet fears her force to try,
Because she wants innate authority;
For how can she constrain them to obey,
Who has herself cast off the lawful sway?

Rebellion equals all; and those, who toil
In common theft, will fhare the common spoil.
Let her produce the title and the right
Against her old fuperiors first to fight;

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If the reform by text, ev'n that's as plain
For her own rebels to reform again.

As long as words a different sense will bear,
be his own interpreter,

And each

may

Our airy faith will no foundation find:
The word's a weathercock for every wind :
The bear, the fox, the wolf, by turns prevail;
The most in power fupplies the present gale.
The wretched Panther cries aloud for aid
To church and councils, whom she first betray'd;
No help from fathers or tradition's train:
Thofe ancient guides she taught us to disdain,
And by that fcripture, which fhe once abus'd
To reformation, stands herself accus'd.

What bills for breach of laws can she prefer,
Expounding which the owns herself may err;
And, after all her winding ways are try'd,
If doubts arise, she flips herself aside,
And leaves the private confcience for the guide.
If then that confcience fet th' offender free,
It bars her claim to church authority.
How can fhe cenfure, or what crime pretend,
But fcripture may be conftrued to defend ?
Ev'n thofe, whom for rebellion fhe tranfmits
To civil power, her doctrine first acquits;
Becaufe no difobedience can enfue,
Where no fubmiffion to a judge is due ;
Each judging for himself by her confent,

Whom thus abfolv'd she fends to punishment.

}

Suppofe

Suppofe the magiftrate revenge her caufe,
'Tis only for tranfgreffing human laws.
How anfwering to its end a church is made,
Whose power is but to counfel and perfuade!
O folid rock, on which fecure she stands !
Eternal house not built with mortal hands!
O fure defence against th' infernal gate,
A patent during pleasure of the state !

Thus is the Panther neither lov'd nor fear'd,
A meer mock queen of a divided herd;
Whom foon by lawful power she might controul,
Herfelf a part fubmitted to the whole.
Then, as the moon who firft receives the light
By which she makes our nether regions bright,
So might the fhine, reflecting from afar

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The fhe borrow'd from a better star
rays
Big with the beams which from her mother flow,
And reigning o'er the rifing tides below:
Now, mixing with a savage crowd, fhe goes,
And meanly flatters her inveterate foes,
Rul'd while the rules, and lofing every hour
Her wretched remnants of precarious power.

One evening, while the cooler fhade she sought,
Revolving many a melancholy thought,
Alone the walk'd, and look'd around in vain,
With rueful visage, for her vanish'd train :
None of her fylvan fubjects made their court;
Levées and couchées pafs'd without refort.
So hardly can ulurpers manage well
Thofe whom they firft inftructed to rebel.

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