The Works of Capt. Alex. Radcliffe :: :: University of Virginia Library

So great, so universal, and so free!
This was too much, great Charles, except for thee,
For any King to give a Subject hope:
To do thus like thee would undo the Pope.
Yea tho his Vassals should their wealth combine,
To buy Indulgence half so large as thine;
No, if they should not onely kiss his Toe,
But Clements podex, he'd not let them go:
Whilest thou to's shame, thy immortal glory,
Hast freed All Souls from real Purgatory;
And given All Saints in Heaven new joys, to see
Their Friends in England keep a Jubilee.
Suspect them not, Great Sir, nor think the worst;
For sudden Joys like Grief confound at first.
The splendor of your Favour was so bright,
That yet it dazles and o'erwhelms our sight:
Drunk with her cups my Muse did nothing mind,
And untill now her Feet she could not find.

Greediness makes prophanness i'th' first place;
Hungry men fill their bellies, then say Grace.
We wou'd have Bonfires, but that we do fear
The name of Incend'ary we may hear:
We wou'd have Musick too, but 'twill not do,
For all the Fidlers are Conformists too:
Nor can we ring, the angry Churchman swears
By the Kings leave the Bells and Ropes are theirs;
And let 'em take 'em, for our Tongues shall sing
Your Honour louder than their Clappers ring.
Nay, if they will not at this Grace repine,
We'll dress the Vineyard, they shall drink the wine.
Their Church shall be the Mother, ours the Nurse;
Peter shall preach, Judas shall bear the purse.
No Bishops, Parsons, Vicars, Curates, we
But onely Ministers desire to be.
We'll preach in Sackcloth, they shall read in Silk;
We'll feed the Flock, and let them take the Milk.
Let but the Blackbirds sing in Bushes cold,
And may the Jackdaws still the Steeples hold.

We'll be the Feet, the Back, and Hands, and they
Shall be the Belly, and devour the prey.
The Tythe-pig shall be theirs, we'll turn the Spit;
We'll bear the Cross, they onely sign with it.
But if the Patriarchs shall envy show
To see their younger Brother Joseph go
In Coat of divers colours, and shall fall
To rend it 'cause it's not Canonical;
Then may they find him turn a Dreamer too,
And live themselves to see his Dream come true.
May rather they and we together joyn
In all what each can; but they have the Coyn;
With prayers and tears such Service much avail;
With tears to swell your Seas, with prayers your Sails;
And with Men too from both our Parties; such
I'm sure we have can cheat or beat the Dutch.
A thousand Quakers, Sir, our side can spare;
Nay two or three, for they great Breeders are.
The Church can match us too with Jovial Sirs,
Informers, Singingmen, and Paraters.
Let the King try, set these upon the Decks
Together, they will Dutch or Devil vex.
Their Breath will mischief further than a Gun,
And if you lose them you'll not be undone.
Pardon, Dread Sir, nay pardon this course Paper,
Your License 'twas made this poor Poet caper.

ITER BOREALE.