Poems on Affairs of State

She's dead! thanks to the Jury's pious Care,
And all her sad Complaints are turn'd to Air;
Vanish'd in Smoak, as her neglected Crys
From Earth to Hav'n's more pitying Mansions rise.
O G---ll---nd , to thy fam'd Zeal is due,
That Salter's Hall has glorious things in view,
That Pinner's and Old-Jury's younger Paul's
Hold Saints triumphant now within their Walls;

Since but for Thee, as sure as God's in Gloc'ster,
The Court had never fix'd on ways to roast her.

Th'Attempt was noble, as the Fact was bold,
Let it in Gath and Askalon be told,
That Unbelievers may from thence perceive,
We dare to punish such as dare to grieve;
Heav'ns bless the righteous B--- each Mother's Son,
Who have their Sage Fore-fathers Deeds outdone,
And thus disclaim'd the Sins of Forty One:
They ne'er sat bogling how to judg and try her,
But flung her instantly into the Fire:
So perish all, that from these Presents dare
Speak what's offensive to the City Chair,
Or vent such Doctrines as shall disagree
With bless'd Occasional Conformity.

Not that to Thee alone we should ascribe
That Ephraim gains the point of Judah's Tribe,
And rides upon the Shoulders of his Foe,
As High Church yields the Day to what is Low.
Others have been Partakers in the Deed,
Witness brave D---n, D---le, H---g---s, Th---
Immortal D---nes, Hugh H---dy, M---x---y, L---n,
Who could not bear to see Dissenters undone;
With Gl---r, H---r---s, Saint-like H---ch and H---s,
Heroes of Worth, and of just claim to Praise,
B---d---n, Gr---y, Sw---ne, Fr---h and L---k,
Seventeen good Men, and true as ever struck,
As ever took up Arms in days of Yore,
Or e'er drew Basket-Hilt at Marston Moor.

Sculpture, in Monumental Brass erect
Those that have made the Saints the True Elect;
Their Statues in the several Niches range,
Fix'd upon Pedestals before th'Exchange.
Patriots like these the Fabrick will adorn,
And stimulate the Children yet unborn;

To make the coming Ages be their own,
And practise the Examples they have shown.

What if the Court no Precedent can plead,
And they from customary Rules recede,
As they beyond past Ages Foot-steps run,
And act what by the Senate's only done?
Must querimonious Mutineers imply
Culprit was wrong'd, and did not fairly die?
The Thought's absurd, and foolish the Mistake;
Where Precedents are wanting we should make.

Some would have had her all besmear'd with Tar,
And carry'd into Smithfield from the Bar,
Where Saints of old eternal Truths confess'd,
Mounting from earthly Flames to Heav'nly Rest.
But wiser Heads, who soon foresaw a Tartar,
Judg'd she from thence might have been stil'd a Martyr,
And sent her to th'Exehange, to make her sad Departure.
Since no one there cou'd be suppos'd to die
Or for Religion, or for Loyalty,
Virtues unknown (their Practices a shame on)
To such whose Idol's Gain, and God is Mammon.
And there, to expiate her vile Offence,
On the bright Wings of Flame she mounted hence;
Soar'd upward, where departed Spirits rise,
And climb'd the vast Expanse, and reach'd the Skies.

Thus Hercules (as Heathen Poets feign)
On Oeta's Top, like this Delinquent slain,
High o'er the Stars, Celestial Regions trod,
By being made a Mortal, made a God.

Mr. Gellibrand, who sollicited to get this Libel burnt.

University of Virginia Library

Fire and Faggot, or the City Bon-Fire.