University of Virginia Library

A Farewel to the Church of England.

Go little Brat, respected by the Just,
Hated by Villains, and by Papists curs'd:
Thy Foes are such as Time it self shall hate,
Whose horrid Actions shall compleat their Fate.
Fools, Villains, Traitors, by true Names descry'd;
Were ever Cards with such a Pack supply'd?
But here's the Comfort, go and tell about,
That Fools that put them in, will kick them out;
Give thy self up, be gone, thou'rt call'd away,
For Time and Tide make the whole World obey.
Go tell thy Friends, and let them think upon't,
A Commonwealth's the thing that some Men want.
No Plots grow there, poor Mankind to abuse,
Those little Tricks of State, which Monarchs use:
No Cut-throats that do murder with Applause;
No burning Cities to promote the Cause:
No Charter seiz'd for Rome, by new-found Writ;
No City Knights question'd, as they think fit,
By Rogues, made Judges, to determine it.
No Monster of a Mouth we e'er yet saw,
Made Judg of Equity, who ne'er knew Law.
No fawning Statesman, who for treach'rous Gold,
His Country's Rights, and antient Freedom sold:
No Judges are permitted there to live,
That break the Center which the Senate give;
That punish Treason under which they groan;
Villains unparallel'd, excell'd by none!
No trimming Poet trims with every Stream,
And changes Sides as often as his Theme:
No filching Justice there perks up his Head,
Prefer'd to cheat the Church that gave him Bread.
A snarling Cur, kept under Chain and Clog,
Perform'd the Office of a wakeful Dog:
Cambridg, that cry'd him up, now calls him Rogue.
No Priests sit there in Council, nor debate
Their juggling Politicks to plague the State;
The only Curse poor England felt of late.
No Burtons, Grahams, Rogues set up in spite,
To squeeze and plague the People in their Right.
Such Villains in a State are only fit
To grace a Gallows, and hang under it.