 | Churchill defended, a poem |  |
Say, Churchill, shall I condescend to show
The Impotence of every stupid Foe,
That mouths at thee for putting off the Gown,
Smit with the Fever for a Bard's Renown?
Such heavy Lumps, alas! are Lumps of Steel,
We need not tell them what they cannot feel.
Otherwise one might teach them, that to shine
The happy Fav'rite of the tuneful Nine,
Is a Fruition which to countervail
Antichrist's Wealth, and triple Crown would fail.
Now, can a Genius have its proper Play,
If you're condemn'd, in a wrong Mood, to pray,
And do some Blockhead's Drudgery every Week,
As Puppets by an Ass are mov'd to speak?
But yet to please a Scotchman I'll admit
You learnt from Conscience you were quite unfit,
And therefore left the Service of the Lord;
I wish all Parsons would with you accord
To quit the Fold who could not feed the Flock;
Of Reverends then we'd have a moderate Stock;
I fear the Residue would prove so small,
St. Stephen's, Walbrook, might contain them all.
The Impotence of every stupid Foe,
That mouths at thee for putting off the Gown,
Smit with the Fever for a Bard's Renown?
Such heavy Lumps, alas! are Lumps of Steel,
We need not tell them what they cannot feel.
Otherwise one might teach them, that to shine
The happy Fav'rite of the tuneful Nine,
Is a Fruition which to countervail
Antichrist's Wealth, and triple Crown would fail.
Now, can a Genius have its proper Play,
If you're condemn'd, in a wrong Mood, to pray,
And do some Blockhead's Drudgery every Week,
As Puppets by an Ass are mov'd to speak?
14
You learnt from Conscience you were quite unfit,
And therefore left the Service of the Lord;
I wish all Parsons would with you accord
To quit the Fold who could not feed the Flock;
Of Reverends then we'd have a moderate Stock;
I fear the Residue would prove so small,
St. Stephen's, Walbrook, might contain them all.
| Churchill defended, a poem | |