State Tracts Containing Many Necessary Observations and Reflections on the State of our Affairs at Home and Abroad; With some Secret Memoirs. By the Author of the Examiner [i.e. William Oldisworth] |
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To the eternal Shame of Low-Ch---h, and the
lasting Reproach to Mo---on, Segnior Harlequin
Occasi, the modern Turn-coat.
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 | State Tracts |  |
140
To the eternal Shame of Low-Ch---h, and the lasting Reproach to Mo---on, Segnior Harlequin Occasi, the modern Turn-coat.
Hail! Glorious Patriot of the R---s Race,
With T---n in thy Heart, and T---y in thy Face!
No more let Church-men praise thy fiery Steed,
The Horse runs best, that can maintain his Speed:
But you, like Phaeton, drove on too fast,
Till from your Chariot you was headlong cast.
Let Sneakers then, no more prick up their Ears;
Or such tantivy Men encrease our Tears.
The Chair's too good for you, to act your Part,
You'd better talk at T---n in a Cart:
There you deserve in Robes of State to sit,
Adorn'd with Hemp, not Wooden Ruff, as fit.
Here by confessing you have been i'th' Wrong,
You then may bore your self thro' your own Tongue,
That all the World you've injur'd, then may find,
You for Preferment sail'd with ev'ry Wind;
Follow'd the hottest Scent without Controul,
And to the Devil gave Body and Soul:
You couzen'd all the Sophists, and the Tribe,
That took you for a learned faithful Scribe.
With T---n in thy Heart, and T---y in thy Face!
No more let Church-men praise thy fiery Steed,
The Horse runs best, that can maintain his Speed:
But you, like Phaeton, drove on too fast,
Till from your Chariot you was headlong cast.
Let Sneakers then, no more prick up their Ears;
Or such tantivy Men encrease our Tears.
The Chair's too good for you, to act your Part,
You'd better talk at T---n in a Cart:
There you deserve in Robes of State to sit,
Adorn'd with Hemp, not Wooden Ruff, as fit.
Here by confessing you have been i'th' Wrong,
You then may bore your self thro' your own Tongue,
141
You for Preferment sail'd with ev'ry Wind;
Follow'd the hottest Scent without Controul,
And to the Devil gave Body and Soul:
You couzen'd all the Sophists, and the Tribe,
That took you for a learned faithful Scribe.
Your Conscience first, like Baalam's Ass, was shy,
Boggl'd and whinc'd, which when you did espy,
You cudgel'd her, and spurr'd her on each Side,
Until the Jade her Paces all could ride.
When first you mounted on her tender Back,
She would not leave the Presbyterian Track,
Till in her Mouth the High-Ch---h Bit you got,
And made her learn to Gallop or to Trot.
'Twas a hard Trot, and fretted her, alas!
The Moderation Amble easier was:
You taught her that, and out of that to fall
To the Tantivy, of Prelatical.
Now with a Snafle, or a twined Thread,
To any Government she'll turn her Head.
Boggl'd and whinc'd, which when you did espy,
You cudgel'd her, and spurr'd her on each Side,
Until the Jade her Paces all could ride.
When first you mounted on her tender Back,
She would not leave the Presbyterian Track,
Till in her Mouth the High-Ch---h Bit you got,
And made her learn to Gallop or to Trot.
'Twas a hard Trot, and fretted her, alas!
The Moderation Amble easier was:
You taught her that, and out of that to fall
To the Tantivy, of Prelatical.
Now with a Snafle, or a twined Thread,
To any Government she'll turn her Head.
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Hail! Then, Great Patriot of the Turn-coat Crew,
May'st thou ne'er fail to change, and still be new,
Till thou hast met, what to thy Merit's due.
May'st thou ne'er fail to change, and still be new,
Till thou hast met, what to thy Merit's due.
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