University of Virginia Library

Canto VI.

What Mortal can recount the perils
Of those who live by broils and quarrels,
And who do gain their daily bread
By knocking others on the head?
How oft doth fortune, (Pox upon her,)
Plague and confound these men of Honour?
And, like a Pedant, jerks the Arse
Of th'truant disciples of Mars?
A learned Author, pro comperto,
Proves, Dulce bellum inexperto.
No Mortal ever did deny it,
If any do, then let him try it.
They'll find it but a foolish Game,
To lose their Legs to purchase Fame,
And stand till Foes their Bones do batter,
To furnish Gazette-writers matter.
Now of all Wars th'ecclesiastic
Is certainly the most fantastic,
And none lie oftner in the Lurch
Than Janizaries of the Church;
And so it happened in this Battle,
Where Kirk-men ran like Buchan cattle,
Nor durst Kirk errant-knights adventure,
With Sword in hand the Kirk to enter;
The Passes were so stoutly guarded,
Aud all the Croud with Stones bombarded;
They could no longer keep their station,
But, studying Self-preservation,
The stoutest, who the Legions headed,
And who, at first, no danger dreaded,
No sooner met with opposition,
But, losing heart and resolution,
They thought it safest to be trudging
Backward in haste unto their Lodging:
And many of the Tribe had need
To run for Plaisters to their head.
No sooner did the Amazons
Discharge a Volley of big stones,
And Buchan Plow-men charge with Flails,
But Front and Rear turn'd all their Tails,
And Kirk-knight-errants ran with speed,
And every one got on his Steed;
Nor needs the Reader long demur,
To know if then they us'd the Spur;
Whatever use they made of Bridle,
The Spur and Whip were never idle;
Which makes the thing to be admir'd,
That men with Zeal so much inspir'd,
Rode faster home, spurr'd on with fear,
Than they advanced to Old-Deer.