For from pretended grievances they rife,
First to diflike, and after to defpife.
Then cyclop-like in human flefh to deal,
Chop up a minifter at every meal:
Perhaps not wholly to melt down the King;
But clip his regal rights within the ring.
From thence to affume the power of
peace and war;
And eafe him by degrees of public care.
Yet to confult his dignity and fame,

He fhould have leave to exercise the name;

And hold the cards while commons play'd the game.
For what can power give more than food and drink,
To live at ease, and not be bound to think?
Thefe are the cooler methods of their crime,
But their hot zealots think 'tis lofs of time;
On utmost bounds of loyalty they stand,
And grin and whet like a Croatian band;
That waits impatient for the laft command.
Thus outlaws open villainy maintain,

They fteal not, but in fquadrons fcour the plain :
And if their power the paffengers fubdue,
The most have right, the wrong is in the few.
Such impious axioms foolishly they show,
For in fome foils republics will not grow:
Our temperate ifle will no extremes fuftain,
Of popular fway or arbitrary reign:

But flides between them both into the beft,
Secure in freedom, in a monarch bleft,
And tho' the climate vex'd with various winds,
Works thro' our yielding bodies on our minds,
The wholesome tempeft purges what it breeds,
To recommend the calmnefs that fucceeds,

But thou, the pander of the people's hearts,
O crooked foul, and ferpentine in arts,
Whose blandishments a loyal land have whor'd,
And broke the bonds fhe plighted to her lord;

04

}

}

What

What curfes on thy blafted name will fall!

Which age to age their legacy thall call and on all}

;

For all must curfe the woes that muft defcend on all,
Religion thou haft none: thy Mercury

Has pafs'd thro' every fect, or theirs through thee.
But what thou givest, that venom still remains;
And the pox'd nation feels thee in their brains.
What else inspires the tongues and fwells the breasts
Of all thy bellowing renegado priests,

That preach up thee for God; difpenfe thy laws;
And with thy ftum ferment their fainting cause?
Fresh fumes of madness raife; and toil and sweat
To make the formidable cripple great.

Yet fhould thy crimes fucceed, fhould lawless power
Compass thofe ends thy greedy hopes devour,
Thy canting friends thy mortal foes would be,
Thy God and theirs will never long agree;
For thine, if thou haft any, must be one
That lets the world and human-kind alone:
A jolly god, that paffes hours too well
To promife heaven, or threaten us with hell,
That unconcern'd can at rebellion fit,

And wink at crimes he did himself commit.
A tyrant theirs; the heaven their priesthood paints
A conventicle of gloomy fullen saints;

A heaven like Bedlam, flovenly and fad;
Fore-doom'd for fouls, with false religion, mad.
Without a vision poets can foreshow

What all but fools by common fense may know:
If true fucceffion from our ifle fhould fail,
And crouds profane with impious arms prevail.
Not thou, nor thofe thy factious arts engage
Shall reap that harvest of rebellious rage,
With which thou flattereft thy decrepid age.
The fwelling poifon of the feveral fects,
Which wanting vent, the nation's health infects,

Shall

Shall burst its bag; and fighting out their way
The various venoms on each other prey.

The prefbyter puff'd up with fpiritual pride,
Shall on the necks of the lewd nobles ride:
His brethren damn, the civil power defy;
And parcel out republic prelacy.

But short shall be his reign: his rigid yoke
And tyrant power will puny fects provoke ;
And frogs and toads, and all the tadpole train
Will croak to heaven for help, from this devouring crane.
The cut-throat fword and clamorous gown fhall jar,
In fharing their ill-gotten fpoils of war:

Chiefs fhall be grudg'd the part which they pretend,
Lords envy Lords, and friends with every friend
About their impious merit fhall contend.
The furly commons fhall refpect deny,
And juftle peerage out with property.
Their general either fhall his truft betray,
And force the croud to arbitrary fway;
Or they fufpecting his ambitious aim,

In hate of Kings fhall caft anew the frame;
And thruft out Collatine that bore their name.
Thus inborn broils the factions would engage,
Or wars of exil'd heirs, or foreign rage,
Till halting vengeance overtook our age:
And our wild labours wearied into reft,
Reclin❜d us on a rightful monarch's breast.

Pudet hæc opprobria, vobis

Et dici potuiffe, & non potuiffe refelli.

RELI