University of Virginia Library

Religion is a thing, if understood,
Would make men righteous and their Actions good
For Piety alone of all things can
Correct the Manners, and reform the Man:
But Ah! how much is the blest Name abus'd,
And by unhallow'd Lips profanely us'd!
But none so much their Lewdness evidence,
As those who to it make the most pretence.

A Brace of Pilgrims, of a Sect severe,
As e'er usurp'd a Place in Moses Chair,
Men skill'd and read in Moses sacred Laws,
Yet well instructed for an impious Cause.
They brought up Pilgrims in their pious Schools,
Where Men were hoodwink'd & transform'd to Fools.
They taught 'em Doctrines did e'en Sense deceive,
And made 'em many holy Cheats believe;
Passive Obedience taught in a free Nation,
More foolish far than Transubstantiation.
These pious Ramblers trudg'd from Post to Pillow,
Got sacred Oak and consecrated Willow,
Chips of our Saviour's Cross, which where they came
Still got 'em Mony, Provender and Fame;
Each holy Hocus Pocus had a trick
Would cheat the wisest Subject of Old Nick.
They wrought such Miracles in every Nation,
As did inhance their holy Reputation.
From Spain unto Aleppo they embark'd,
As Beasts in Noah's wooden House were ark'd;
From thence o'er sandy Desert they did travel,
Where Men by Winds are buried oft in Gravel,
Where Camels foundring in the sandy way,
Are mummied up for ever and for ay;
Where Men are thrust so far beneath the Ground,
They scarce will hear the final Trumpet sound;
Till thro the scorching Sand's impetuous Heat,
They got safe to Jerusalem's beauteous Gate;
Where when they came, just at the very entry,
They saw a Brother Pilgrim standing Sentry,
With meagre Looks, as if he'd been half roasted;
But yet in Pilgrim Cant he them accosted:
Says he, ‘You're welcome Brethren to this Place,
‘Of other Lands, and of our Church the Grace
‘Step you but in I'll show our Saviour's Tomb,
‘So much ador'd by all that hither come;
‘With all the holy Relicks of the Saints,
‘Which he who has not seen, true Fervour wants.
‘But e'er you enter, Brethren, I must tell ye,
‘We have got no Provision for the Belly.
At which one Pilgrim said, ‘We need not that,
‘We without Victuals can grow plump and fat.
Then putting Hand within his sacred Hood,
Pull'd out a Piece of most ill-favour'd Wood.
Said he, ‘Whoever bears this sacred Chip,
‘Needs not with Liquor ever wet his Lip,
‘Or cram his Guts as other Mortals do:
‘This is both Meat and Drink, and Clothing too.
‘We from Aleppo came, and all the way
‘Have neither eat nor drank by night or day,
‘Whilst others fainting, perish'd on the Road,
‘And Camels sunk beneath the Heat and Load.
‘Who e'er to Battel goes, that carries this,
‘Him shall the poyson'd Arrows ever miss:
‘He may in Tempests thro the largest Seas
‘Undrowned pass whenever he shall please.
‘This sacred Chip is of our Saviour's Cross,
‘Which who has got, can ne'er sustain a Loss.

A Pilgrim Merchant standing by, o'er-heard
What the Impostor said, and much afraid
To pass the Deserts, but with needful Prop
To keep his drooping Limbs and Spirits up;
Offers the Pilgrims Mony for the VVood,
VVho pond'ring seriously, a long time stood;
Then in the Offer they were very nice,
Not out of Zeal, but to inhance the Price:
At length, which being rais'd ('tis very odd)
They took the Mony, and they sold their God.
The Merchant thus equipp'd, away he ran,
He need not stay now for the Caravan;
But in the Deserts was the Sot mistaken,
Where he did broil and fry like any Bacon;
He would have given in this very matter
A Load of Timber for a draught of VVater:
There in the Sands did unassisted roast,
He curst the Pilgrims, and gave up the Ghost.