Bacchanalia or A Description of a Drunken Club. A Poem [by Charles Darby] |
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 | Bacchanalia |  |
But he proceeds. I could rehearse ye
The State, quoth he, of Modern Controversie.
What Weapons keen are us'd in that sharp Sport,
Betwixt Arminius, and Dort.
How those twit These, with turning men
To Stocks, and Stones; and how agen
The Absolute Divine
Whips Cinq with Thirty Nine;
Not much unlike the Jewish scourging Discipline.
I could the Gordian knot unty
Of Ecclesiastick Polity;
And tell the Street, and Sign,
Where that Great Lady dwells, call'd Jus-Divine,
Who Courted long by all has been,
But still so Coy, She's scarcely to be seen.
I could Discourse of Ceremonial Jarr,
(That least, yet greatest War)
Whose Hot Spurs, on each side, engage so far
Beyond their slow-pac'd Squadrons, that oft they,
By meer pursuing, lose the Day.
Some would confine Religion's Dress
To the Course Freeze of meer Necessity:
Others attire Her all in Lace,
Preferring still the greatest Bravery.
Some make Her all Embroidery, and Scanning;
Some let Her ravel out, for lack of Hemming.
Some are resolv'd to scruple whatsoe're
Is by Authority enjoin'd:
Whilst some again, to cross the others mind,
Wish all things were Enjoin'd, that scrupled are.
But how much better would it be,
Would but you Bigots of each side, quoth he,
Come hither, to observe Our prudent Fashion,
And imitate Our signal Moderation!
For We, in these
Solemnities,
Do neither scruple, nor press Modes upon ye;
Drink either with, or without Ceremonye.
Each man enjoy's his Liberty, provided
He takes his Cup,
And drinks all up,
All other Doubts, and Circumstances are decided.
The State, quoth he, of Modern Controversie.
What Weapons keen are us'd in that sharp Sport,
Betwixt Arminius, and Dort.
How those twit These, with turning men
To Stocks, and Stones; and how agen
The Absolute Divine
Whips Cinq with Thirty Nine;
Not much unlike the Jewish scourging Discipline.
I could the Gordian knot unty
Of Ecclesiastick Polity;
And tell the Street, and Sign,
Where that Great Lady dwells, call'd Jus-Divine,
Who Courted long by all has been,
But still so Coy, She's scarcely to be seen.
I could Discourse of Ceremonial Jarr,
(That least, yet greatest War)
Whose Hot Spurs, on each side, engage so far
Beyond their slow-pac'd Squadrons, that oft they,
By meer pursuing, lose the Day.
Some would confine Religion's Dress
To the Course Freeze of meer Necessity:
Others attire Her all in Lace,
Preferring still the greatest Bravery.
11
Some let Her ravel out, for lack of Hemming.
Some are resolv'd to scruple whatsoe're
Is by Authority enjoin'd:
Whilst some again, to cross the others mind,
Wish all things were Enjoin'd, that scrupled are.
But how much better would it be,
Would but you Bigots of each side, quoth he,
Come hither, to observe Our prudent Fashion,
And imitate Our signal Moderation!
For We, in these
Solemnities,
Do neither scruple, nor press Modes upon ye;
Drink either with, or without Ceremonye.
Each man enjoy's his Liberty, provided
He takes his Cup,
And drinks all up,
All other Doubts, and Circumstances are decided.
| Bacchanalia | |