A transcript of Edward Taylor's Metrical History of Christianity by Donald E. Stanford

The Clayey-Iron toes with all their joynts
The Beast's feet have: though yet weake naild,
Now through the Skin the small horn points
Though with hair vaild.

A Star from Heaven falls to Earth and brings
The Key of Hells pit bottomless.
Unlocks the doore and out it flings
All Smoakiness.

Gregory the Greate did finde a nest of Keyes
In Peters Trunck: or Coffin'd Shell.
Tokens for Kings: Sir, if you please,
These unlock Hell.

The Roman Star drops from the Heav'nly Orb
Unto this Carnall Earthy State.
Sits in Gods Temple is made Lord,
Ore Stars and Fate.

The Woman must receive the dragons Throne.
And ride the Beast of Scarlet die.
Justinian's block, Romes Bishop shown
O're others fly[.]

The Head upon this Horse block got to get
A Cockhorse strove, ------ Blockhead did.
The Blocks too low. Pelagius a new Step
Sets on its Lid

And having tam'd the Beast, he up did jump
To get upon her back to ride.
Could not his leg get ore her rump
Squokd down. Poore guide.

But now by this time she well trappled 'bides
And Phocas heaving at the brich
Of Boniface the third, who strides
Her by his hitch.

The Beast though backt's not broke, be Chary
And if you Whip, or Spur, she Kicks.
If Curb, she pawn, Maddam be wary,
Lest she shew tricks.

The Harlot rides at first full Gingerly.
She goes a jogging trot, and paws
The Saints in sev'rall Realms down nigh
A Sword out draws.

Brisk Martin on her back did twitch her rains
Girt, Crupper, Curb her up, her Spurs.
She Pawns, Kicks, Casts him, knocks out's brains
How Cheere you Sir[?]

235

She slunk this Colt. But still the Harlot toles
Her to her hand, rides on her jogging.
Kings are, and Queens her Filly foals
And little Dobbins.

And as she rides her golden Cup she holds
Still in her hand and puts therein
Of her Abominations bold.
All bubbs of Sin.

Sabinians grape did drop this juyce into't.
That Lamps in Churches ever flame.
And Bells must ring a Call. (which fruite
Deserves no blame)

Phocas and Boniface the third do Squeeze
Their brains whose juyce then in't that drops
Is Universall Headship: flees
Ore all Christs flocks.

A Councill of 100 their Decree
Do drop herein to ratify
This Headship ore all Churches se
This Liquour, fly.

Then Boniface the fourth, with Phocas grace,
Presst the Pantheon temple till
It drops All Saints in to't apace
Oh! happy still.

He put in't Altar Cloaths and Nectar made
Of Sacerdoted Monks well fed.
And Theodate his Law, that said
No God child wed.

Honorius puts in'to't the Holy day
Of th'Exaltation of the Cross
Eugenius Prisons out doth lay
And such like dross.

Vitalian threw therein the Organs first.
And Latine Tongue for Worship all.
The Kissing Pax from Leo burst.
His Drops that fall.

Sergius Put in't an Agnus Dei Song
For to be sung at Sacr[e]d Mass.
And others let their Crabs to run
Into this Glass.

And thus abominable things do bleed
Into her Cup which all must drinck
Both Kings, and Queens in very deed
Although it Stinck

But lest her heads too heavy be to get
Without th'Impeariall Hand to guide
Them on the Body and to set
Them up to ride

236

Constantine Pogonate the Stirup made'm
Yet longer that they mount up may
Without Imperiall Confirmatum
And ride full Gay.

These things the Scripture shewd them done we shew
And herein se how Truth doth shine.
In all such Villanies we view
A Straiter line.

Thus Having Passt this Century through we See
These various Attributes do mix
Their Glory shining through't that we
On God may fix.

Wherefore I passing from it, heave my Pen
Its Golden threshold o're to write
What Shines the next do make me ken
And lay in light

University of Virginia Library

The Glory of Divine Truth.