 | Poems by Matthew Stevenson |  |
145
To Captain John Clarke, upon his Activity in suppressing the Phanaticks.
Bark on Phanaticks, do; ye may as soon,
With Syrian Wolves, prevail against the Moon,
As Clarkes unblemish'd Honour, which is such,
Ye may Malign, but never hope to t'uch.
Your Eyes without an Optick cannot clime
The Sphere his Fame moves in, 'tis too sublime:
For like the Sun it does in Glory sit,
Exhaling envious Vapors after it;
Which yet e're while upon their proper Bogs
Recoil again in roaky Mists and Fogs.
But swell and burst, and let your eager Galls
Banish Your Souls from their black Hospitals:
And may the Asps your poysonous Tongues forsake,
To persecute them in the Stygian Lake.
A Seed of Schismaticks, that would no doubt,
Like Vipers tear your Mothers Bowels out;
A Generation that like Demophon
Fry in the shade, and freez still in the Sun.
Let them but to their lurking holes retire,
The Sister sets the Brothers zeal on fire.
But bring them to the Church, and they shall sit
More frozen than an icy Anchoret,
Sure a new Sect of Glo-worms these must be
That glister only in obscurity:
For at high-noon they are involv'd in night,
And have under a Bushel only light.
Like Owls they Cloister in an Ivy-tod;
And with Dark-Lanthorns grope about for God.
With Syrian Wolves, prevail against the Moon,
As Clarkes unblemish'd Honour, which is such,
Ye may Malign, but never hope to t'uch.
Your Eyes without an Optick cannot clime
The Sphere his Fame moves in, 'tis too sublime:
For like the Sun it does in Glory sit,
Exhaling envious Vapors after it;
Which yet e're while upon their proper Bogs
Recoil again in roaky Mists and Fogs.
But swell and burst, and let your eager Galls
Banish Your Souls from their black Hospitals:
And may the Asps your poysonous Tongues forsake,
To persecute them in the Stygian Lake.
A Seed of Schismaticks, that would no doubt,
Like Vipers tear your Mothers Bowels out;
A Generation that like Demophon
Fry in the shade, and freez still in the Sun.
146
The Sister sets the Brothers zeal on fire.
But bring them to the Church, and they shall sit
More frozen than an icy Anchoret,
Sure a new Sect of Glo-worms these must be
That glister only in obscurity:
For at high-noon they are involv'd in night,
And have under a Bushel only light.
Like Owls they Cloister in an Ivy-tod;
And with Dark-Lanthorns grope about for God.
These be the Locusts did our Land annoy
Double the tedious ten years Siege of Troy:
And yet in troubled Waters still delight,
They shew their Teeth, and would, but dare not bite.
But let them hug their venom, that alone,
Like Wine, shall eat the Vipers to the bone.
The utmost therefore of their malice dare:
Their Jacobs staffe can never reach your Star.
Their Hatred does but set your vertue forth,
There is no Envy where there is no Worth.
Dare but what brave is, and Action affords
A Language louder than the noise of Words.
On still (brave soul) and down with their Forlorn:
Their Envy's better booty than their Scorn.
Blind Fools, that to forestall too forward Fate,
Must Envy what the wisest æmulate.
Of good Men (Sir) You merit more than well,
That take away the Scabs from Israel.
The Crown and Church stile You, for what is done,
A Loyal Subject, and a loving Son.
These Gangrenes from the Churches Body must
Be lop'd off, and your oft try'd Steel they trust
Will not turn edge now, when there is such need,
The Lunaticks of London (Sir) should bleed.
Grave their Sedition in their flesh, And let
Your Sword a Copy to all Captains set;
Whilst You (brave Clark) bent to your Countries good
Subscribe her Vindication with your blood.
Cudgel and Carbonade them o're and o're:
And stopping one mouth make a thousand more.
Out with the Brains of Babel's Brats; And when
Like impudent worms, they dare but turn agen.
Give thy enraged hand leave to denounce
Their Execution and their Urn at once.
Beat 'em to dirt; let ev'ry Corps but have
His Skin for Coffin, and his Earth for Grave;
Then to thy self upon their Ruines raise
A Pyramid of everlasting praise.
For fair and high needs must that Fabrick be
Where Honour founded is on Loyalty.
Double the tedious ten years Siege of Troy:
And yet in troubled Waters still delight,
They shew their Teeth, and would, but dare not bite.
But let them hug their venom, that alone,
Like Wine, shall eat the Vipers to the bone.
The utmost therefore of their malice dare:
Their Jacobs staffe can never reach your Star.
Their Hatred does but set your vertue forth,
There is no Envy where there is no Worth.
Dare but what brave is, and Action affords
A Language louder than the noise of Words.
On still (brave soul) and down with their Forlorn:
Their Envy's better booty than their Scorn.
Blind Fools, that to forestall too forward Fate,
Must Envy what the wisest æmulate.
Of good Men (Sir) You merit more than well,
That take away the Scabs from Israel.
The Crown and Church stile You, for what is done,
A Loyal Subject, and a loving Son.
These Gangrenes from the Churches Body must
Be lop'd off, and your oft try'd Steel they trust
Will not turn edge now, when there is such need,
The Lunaticks of London (Sir) should bleed.
147
Your Sword a Copy to all Captains set;
Whilst You (brave Clark) bent to your Countries good
Subscribe her Vindication with your blood.
Cudgel and Carbonade them o're and o're:
And stopping one mouth make a thousand more.
Out with the Brains of Babel's Brats; And when
Like impudent worms, they dare but turn agen.
Give thy enraged hand leave to denounce
Their Execution and their Urn at once.
Beat 'em to dirt; let ev'ry Corps but have
His Skin for Coffin, and his Earth for Grave;
Then to thy self upon their Ruines raise
A Pyramid of everlasting praise.
For fair and high needs must that Fabrick be
Where Honour founded is on Loyalty.
| Poems by Matthew Stevenson | |