University of Virginia Library

Upon Dr. B's Suit to the E. of N. for a Bishoprick.

Among the little Pages that were sent
With Morning How D'yes, and a Compliment,
Was seen a lofty Member of the Church,
Whose Name I think they said was Dr. B.
With Primitive Humility he sat,
Fawning and cringing at the Lady's Gate;
Trying t'ingage the Porter in Discourse,
Whether her Grace were better now or worse:
In hopes by just Degrees he might ascend,
And to the waiting Maid his Business recommend.
The honest Porter, easy of Access,
Began his Brother Gown-man to caress:
And soon familiar grown in close Debate,
Told him some secret Mysteries of State.
The wou'd-be-Prelate vainly now began
To think he should a Dignity obtain;
And pleas'd with the new Friendship he had gain'd,
Hasted forthwith to kiss black Dicky's hand;
Dicky the black, whose great and favorite Name
Is known as far as that of Nottingham;
Dicky who to the Church was ever kind,
Thrice shook his Hand, thrice swore he'd be his Friend.
Slighted, contemn'd, and scorn'd by Men of Sense,
Noted for Ignorance and Impudence,
Thus meanly he is forc'd t'implore the Aid
Of Porter, Valet, Page, and Chambermaid.
Next let us trace him to the Western Quire,
And see with what Applause he fills the Chair.
With such a Graceful Boldness does he teach,
You'd swear all was his own that he did preach.
So gay in borrow'd Feathers does he shine;
But Sprat and South are known in every Line.
For South's deep Learning always will appear,
And Sprat will be distinguish'd by the Ear.
My Brother B. crys Sprat in Courtly tone,
Hath to my Sermons too much Honour done.
Whilst rugged South, made of a coarser Mould,
Swears he's a Thief, and scandalously bold.
Some do indeed admire his wondrous Height,
As if he could support the Churches Weight;
That he alone could bear the Ballance down,
'Gainst Whiggish Primate and the Scotish Loon:
With Care he will the Right Divine maintain,
And many Female Proselytes he'll gain.
With the fair Sex Knaves still will most prevail,
Hypocrisy with them can never fail.
The crafty Priest well knows his subtle Art,
And will continue still to act his Part.
Whether in Midnight Healths the Bowls go round,
Whether at Dice he is with Fortune crown'd;
Whether he forms some dark or deep Design,
For killing Wives he never thought a Crime;
Whether his false deluding Tongue does move
To Matrimonial or Incestuous Love.
But here my Muse, be silent as the Night,
In which he acts those Scenes of leud Delight,
Lest thou transgress the bounds of Satyr's Laws,
Or Mother-Church espouse her Bully's Cause.