 | Poems on Affairs of State |  |
33
The Pope's WISH.
If I wear out of date, as I find I fall down,
For my Chair it is rotten, and shakes like my Crown;
Tho I be an Impostor, may this be my doom,
Let my Spiritual Market continue at Rome:
For my Chair it is rotten, and shakes like my Crown;
Tho I be an Impostor, may this be my doom,
Let my Spiritual Market continue at Rome:
May the words of my mouth the Nations betray,
Till Monarchs and Princes my Sceptre obey;
To feed on the fat, and the lean ones to flay:
And the lean ones to flay.
Till Monarchs and Princes my Sceptre obey;
To feed on the fat, and the lean ones to flay:
And the lean ones to flay.
Tho my Birth be equivocal, I look like a Bear;
My Tribe they be cloath'd with sackcloath and hair,
(A Hypocrites habit, and fit to deceive)
Let no man decypher the Pope for a knave.
My Tribe they be cloath'd with sackcloath and hair,
(A Hypocrites habit, and fit to deceive)
Let no man decypher the Pope for a knave.
May the words of my mouth, &c.
Tho my Actions be wicked, my Principles ill,
May I be reputed his Holiness still;
With the Keys on my Arm to chink like a Bell,
And Conjure a Soul for Gold out of Hell.
May I be reputed his Holiness still;
With the Keys on my Arm to chink like a Bell,
And Conjure a Soul for Gold out of Hell.
May the words of my mouth, &c.
With a pair of Great Princes, both lazy and idle,
The one to hold Stirrup, the other the Bridle;
And when they have done, for their pains let 'em take
A kick on the breech, and a stamp on the neck.
The one to hold Stirrup, the other the Bridle;
And when they have done, for their pains let 'em take
A kick on the breech, and a stamp on the neck.
May the words of my mouth, &c.
34
May I be adored by better and worse:
Let Kings kiss my Toe, and Mah'met mine A---e.
May Pardons give price, and Indulgences sell,
And every Opposer be turn'd into Hell.
Let Kings kiss my Toe, and Mah'met mine A---e.
May Pardons give price, and Indulgences sell,
And every Opposer be turn'd into Hell.
May the words of my mouth, &c.
Let the spiritual Peddlers, the Priests tell a story,
Of Limbus Infantum, and New Purgatory,
T extinguish Sedition, and blow out Contention;
To work all my Miracles by apprehension.
Of Limbus Infantum, and New Purgatory,
T extinguish Sedition, and blow out Contention;
To work all my Miracles by apprehension.
May the words of my mouth, &c.
May the Church-men and Clergy ne're Marry nor Wed,
But hug the old Harlot that's cast in a Bed,
Let the Friars with the Nuns commit Fornication,
(If sin) tis but Venial, and sweet Recreation.
But hug the old Harlot that's cast in a Bed,
Let the Friars with the Nuns commit Fornication,
(If sin) tis but Venial, and sweet Recreation.
May the words of my mouth, &c.
May the Priests at Confession make a Virgin to fall,
And when she gets up, give her Pardon for all;
Let Bawds have their Trade, and Whores have their pleasure,
To fill (with their fleshly) my Spiritual Treasure.
And when she gets up, give her Pardon for all;
Let Bawds have their Trade, and Whores have their pleasure,
To fill (with their fleshly) my Spiritual Treasure.
May the words of my mouth, &c.
And whate're I do, or whate're befals me,
He's a Spiritual Traitor, that Whoremonger calls me;
By Bell, Book, and Candle, I'll bar him from Glory,
And send him to Hell, or at least Purgatory.
He's a Spiritual Traitor, that Whoremonger calls me;
By Bell, Book, and Candle, I'll bar him from Glory,
And send him to Hell, or at least Purgatory.
May the words of my mouth, &c.
Let the Saints at devotion make Prayers for the Dead,
And least they misreckon, count all by a Bead.
With Pictures in Churches, that people may pray
To Idols compos'd of Stone, Wood, and Clay.
And least they misreckon, count all by a Bead.
With Pictures in Churches, that people may pray
To Idols compos'd of Stone, Wood, and Clay.
May the words of my mouth, &c.
With a Lamp Everlasting that burneth for ever,
Of the poor Widows Oil, which providence gives her;
With St. Anthony's Fart, that he let in a Frolick,
Which smells like a Rose, and cures the Wind-colick
Of the poor Widows Oil, which providence gives her;
35
Which smells like a Rose, and cures the Wind-colick
May the words of my mouth, &c.
Let people be cheated, a Wafer to take,
And call it a God, tho bak'd in a Cake;
Let them play their Devotion at Church on a fiddle;
But ne'er be so wise as to find out the Riddle.
And call it a God, tho bak'd in a Cake;
Let them play their Devotion at Church on a fiddle;
But ne'er be so wise as to find out the Riddle.
May none be so bold my words to despise,
Till I dull all Mens ears, and hood-wink their eyes,
And blind the whole World with fopperies and lyes.
Till I dull all Mens ears, and hood-wink their eyes,
And blind the whole World with fopperies and lyes.
| Poems on Affairs of State | |