 | Poems on Affairs of State |  |
Spoken by the Genius of England.
When shall I be at rest? will pleasing Peace
No more return to smile on my Recess?
Must hateful Jars and dire Contentions reign,
And High-Church Parties rule the British Main?
Shall Mother Church be still the specious Bait
For crafty Villains to destroy the State?
And will ye tamely with the Traitors side,
Who thus your Land occasion'ly divide?
Will ye to wreck, ye Britons, give the Realm,
Whilst Bourb—Pilots steer the yielding Helm?
Shall Faction dare to spread its baneful Seed,
And will no Patriot on the Monster tread,
To crush to Atoms its aspiring Head?
No more return to smile on my Recess?
Must hateful Jars and dire Contentions reign,
And High-Church Parties rule the British Main?
Shall Mother Church be still the specious Bait
For crafty Villains to destroy the State?
And will ye tamely with the Traitors side,
Who thus your Land occasion'ly divide?
Will ye to wreck, ye Britons, give the Realm,
Whilst Bourb—Pilots steer the yielding Helm?
Shall Faction dare to spread its baneful Seed,
And will no Patriot on the Monster tread,
To crush to Atoms its aspiring Head?
For shame, ye Britons, now your Feuds decline,
Nor swallow with such ease a French Design:
Let your just Rage upon your Foes be shown,
In Gallick Blood your just Resentments drown,
But rend not with such Strife the harmless Town.
Nor swallow with such ease a French Design:
Let your just Rage upon your Foes be shown,
In Gallick Blood your just Resentments drown,
But rend not with such Strife the harmless Town.
'Tis you, ye Tories, who this Heat foment,
Railing at Millions by Low-Church-men spent,
Whilst your dear selves have just the same intent.
This is the only difference can be seen,
They spent to keep th'French out, you'd spend to let them in.
Ye are the Church's Bullies, who have made
Such noise to have its Mint and Anice paid;
Whilst Clemency and Peace, its purest Springs,
Ye turn aside as idle useless things.
Too long, too long have your pernicious Wiles
Been practis'd on this hapless Land; your Smiles
Suspected grow; nay, e'en a common Eye,
Without a Glass your Actions may descry,
Too deeply ting'd with Fraud and Villany.
Tell us the cause of all your loud Complaints;
We know you well, tho ye wou'd seem such Saints:
Papists Socinians, Atheists, Arians, all
Do for the Church unanimously baul.
Railing at Millions by Low-Church-men spent,
Whilst your dear selves have just the same intent.
This is the only difference can be seen,
They spent to keep th'French out, you'd spend to let them in.
Ye are the Church's Bullies, who have made
Such noise to have its Mint and Anice paid;
Whilst Clemency and Peace, its purest Springs,
Ye turn aside as idle useless things.
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Been practis'd on this hapless Land; your Smiles
Suspected grow; nay, e'en a common Eye,
Without a Glass your Actions may descry,
Too deeply ting'd with Fraud and Villany.
Tell us the cause of all your loud Complaints;
We know you well, tho ye wou'd seem such Saints:
Papists Socinians, Atheists, Arians, all
Do for the Church unanimously baul.
Alas, poor Church! how art thou fallen of late,
When such as these must prop thy sinking State!
Lest honest Whigs the Church should undermine
And Anarchy succeed—
Or, what they hate as bad, the lawful Line.
When such as these must prop thy sinking State!
Lest honest Whigs the Church should undermine
And Anarchy succeed—
Or, what they hate as bad, the lawful Line.
Delude us then no more with idle Tales,
But say expresly, that the Prince of W---
Ye to th'Imperial Power would advance,
And basely court the Grand Monarch of France.
But say expresly, that the Prince of W---
Ye to th'Imperial Power would advance,
And basely court the Grand Monarch of France.
This, Tories, is your Aim, but learn to fear,
Whilst my lov'd Britons Nassau's Name revere;
The Throne shall be secure from spurious Race,
And Perkin shall to Hannover give place.
Whilst my lov'd Britons Nassau's Name revere;
The Throne shall be secure from spurious Race,
And Perkin shall to Hannover give place.
| Poems on Affairs of State | |