Iter boreale With large additions of several other poems: being an exact collection of all hitherto extant. Never before published together. The author R. Wild |
![]() |
![]() |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. | VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
XVI. |
![]() |
![]() | Iter boreale | ![]() |
VII.
Heav'n heard, and struck th' insulting army madDrunk with their Cheshire Triumphs, straight they had
New-Lights appear'd, and new Resolves they take,
A Single Person once again to make.
Who shall be he? Oh! Lambert, without rub,
The fittest Devil to be Belzebub.
He, the fierce Fiend, cast out o'th' House before,
Return'd, and threw the House now out of door:
A Legion then he rais'd of Armed Sprights,
Elves, Goblins, Faires, Quakers, and new Lights,
To be his under Devils, with this rest
He Soul and Body (Church and State) possest:
Who tho they fil'd all countries, towns, and rooms
Yet (like that Fiend that did frequent the Tombs)
13
No Chappel was at ease from some such Ghost.
The Priests ordain'd to exercise those Elves,
Were voted Devils, and cast out themselves:
Bible, or Alchoran, all's one to them,
Religion serves but for a stratagem:
The holy Charms these Adders did not heed,
Churches themselves did Sanctuary need.
![]() | Iter boreale | ![]() |