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CHAPTER 12th.
The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse |  |
Had only common, paltry, Clerks appear'd,
In Playhouse oftener seen, than Pulpit heard—
Who, in the Fox-chase, more than Closets, toil,
And lay their Bibles by to study Hoyle—
Who flatter Folly—ignorant Dupes endure—
Catching all interests to obtain a Cure—
Presumptuously neglect Christ's public Courts,
For sacrilegious schemes, and private sports—
Mix with the idle—volatile—and vain—
In quest of Pleasure, or in hopes of Gain—
Pursuing both by flattery—folly—lies,
This ne'er had caus'd one symptom of surprize—
But for the sake of such low fame, and lust,
Gave Crispin's Conscience pain, and deep disgust.
How then did secret indignation swell,
Beholding Bishops point the way—to Hell!
Misleading Laics, and poor priestly Elves,
By wandering downwards tow'rd the gulph themselves!
Breaking that Law by levity and pride,
With which Man's countless mass ought all be tied!
Not separately confin'd to humble Cots,
To regulate, alone, mean Mortals' lots;
But high imperial Rule, subjecting all
Who wear a Crown, or occupy a stall,
As well as Boors, who to the Sceptre bow,
Or, at a Prelate's feet confirm their Vow!
A Statute paramount to all the pleas
Of Canons' Conclaves, or dread Pope's decrees!
Which constitutes a Part of that pure Code,
That circumscribes each reasoning Creature's road;
A perfect Part of that most perfect Whole,
Which stamps the Duties of each deathless Soul!
'Tis like all Heav'n's unfathomable Arts—
Like God, Himself! one Whole, compos'd of Parts!
One adamantine Chain! all Agents, Yoke!
Whose force is lost if but one link be broke!
Thus every Soul that breaks this single Clause,
Incurs the curse that lies on all its Laws;
And all that keep not every Clause entire,
Must meet Heav'n's frowns; may feel Hell's endless fire!
None but true Saints can hope the blest reverse,
Who look to Jesu's Cross to 'scape the Curse;
As Israel's legions, in their journeying state,
View'd brazen Serpent, to reverse their fate.
In Playhouse oftener seen, than Pulpit heard—
Who, in the Fox-chase, more than Closets, toil,
And lay their Bibles by to study Hoyle—
Who flatter Folly—ignorant Dupes endure—
Catching all interests to obtain a Cure—
Presumptuously neglect Christ's public Courts,
For sacrilegious schemes, and private sports—
Mix with the idle—volatile—and vain—
In quest of Pleasure, or in hopes of Gain—
Pursuing both by flattery—folly—lies,
This ne'er had caus'd one symptom of surprize—
But for the sake of such low fame, and lust,
Gave Crispin's Conscience pain, and deep disgust.
How then did secret indignation swell,
Beholding Bishops point the way—to Hell!
Misleading Laics, and poor priestly Elves,
By wandering downwards tow'rd the gulph themselves!
Breaking that Law by levity and pride,
With which Man's countless mass ought all be tied!
Not separately confin'd to humble Cots,
To regulate, alone, mean Mortals' lots;
But high imperial Rule, subjecting all
Who wear a Crown, or occupy a stall,
As well as Boors, who to the Sceptre bow,
Or, at a Prelate's feet confirm their Vow!
A Statute paramount to all the pleas
Of Canons' Conclaves, or dread Pope's decrees!
Which constitutes a Part of that pure Code,
That circumscribes each reasoning Creature's road;
A perfect Part of that most perfect Whole,
Which stamps the Duties of each deathless Soul!
'Tis like all Heav'n's unfathomable Arts—
Like God, Himself! one Whole, compos'd of Parts!
One adamantine Chain! all Agents, Yoke!
Whose force is lost if but one link be broke!
Thus every Soul that breaks this single Clause,
Incurs the curse that lies on all its Laws;
And all that keep not every Clause entire,
Must meet Heav'n's frowns; may feel Hell's endless fire!
None but true Saints can hope the blest reverse,
Who look to Jesu's Cross to 'scape the Curse;
As Israel's legions, in their journeying state,
View'd brazen Serpent, to reverse their fate.
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CHAPTER 12th.
The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse | |