University of Virginia Library

A POEM, occasion'd by the late Discontents and Disturbances in the State, 1691. With Reflections upon the Rise and Progress of Priest-Craft.

PHILANDER.
—The same Disorder reigns
Amongst our Flocks that has possest our Swains;
Perversly both to their own Hopes unkind,
Expose their tender Comforts to the Wind.
But lately 'twas that ev'ry Shepherd sung,
While with the gen'ral Glee the Valleys rung,
As Nature had renew'd, and fresh Creation sprung;
Each Muse to the Restorer tun'd her Lyre,
Their only and almost despair'd desire.
They sung, How in his Belgick Seat he lay
Silent as Night, but watchful as the Day;
His sure, but secret Counsels did advance
To check the Progress of encroaching France,
While Belgia did the Tyrant's Summons wait,
And Britain from the Continent disjoin'd,
No Safety in her Seas embrace could find,
Not Britain knew to shun the common Fate.
To Bondage sold, despairing to be freed
The servile Contract, her own Act and Deed.
Her Roman Masters at their Conquest smile;
Secure in Hopes, they cantle out the Isle.
Palæmon, you must needs remember well
That ruthful Season which you could foretel,
To Unbelievers preacht, who mourn'd too late
Their Trojan Fathers Folly, and their Fate.
If just Disdain will suffer, call to mind
How in that pensive Time
Our Swains at their own handy-work repin'd,
And curs'd their Tillage to new Lords assign'd;
Wish'd Blight and Mildews on their gen'rous Soil,
E'er Lubber-Priests should batten on the Spoil,
And consecrated Sloth devour their Toil.
By Husbandmen of yore forwarn'd the Harm,
No Caterpillars like a sacred Swarm.
The vile Remembrance we can scarce support,
How Vermin to our Palace did resort,
And Nations purg'd their Scum into our Court.
The Rogue was qualify'd for Magistrate,
Tribunals then were Shambles of the State.
We suffer'd much, and Fear suggested more,
Till Ruin should o'erwhelm our fenceless Shore,
We heard the near advancing Billows roar.
With ev'ry Gust th'impetuous Tide came on,
Our Sluces open'd, and our Moundings gone,
When Tyranny with Sword high-brandish'd stood,
And Zeal, the worst of Fiends, for seeming good,
The Monster now confest with darted Claws,
And lick'd for Thirst of Blood her frothy Jaws.
'Twas then Fame's Voice did first our Coasts surprize,
(A Voice like that shall bid the Dead to rise)
That brave Nassau approach'd to our Relief:
With Joy as speechless as our former Grief,
The Tidings we receiv'd; with early Eyes,
Preventing Day, we watch'd the Eastern Skies:
At last the Hero came, the long expected Guest,
As from a present Deity
The conscious Monsters fly,
The Specters vanish'd, and the Land had rest.

PALÆMON.
Unparallel'd in Story was the Change!
But nothing, where such Virtue works, is strange.

PHILANDER.
Then tell me, good Palæmon, whence this Cloud
Of Discontent, that does our Morning shroud?
Can we so soon grow sick of Happiness,
So soon suspect the Blessings we possess?
The Reasons of this stupid Change relate,
Our Fault or Lot, our Folly or our Fate.

PALÆMON.
Too soon we slept, and let the watchful Foe,
Before our Wheat was sprung, his Darnel sow.

PHILANDER.
A disappointed Foe you cannot blame,
At once by Int'rest urg'd Revenge and Shame.
Think not a losing Gamester will be fair,
Who at his best ne'er play'd upon the Square.

PALÆMON.
Rome's Frauds are now of such an antient Date,
The Harlot pleads her Privilege to cheat.
Her holy Panders too you must forgive,
Who keep her Trading up, by which they live:
The Ghostly Pimps must starve, or else combine,
For her Support, the State to undermine.
Necessity sways here with some Pretence
To Right Divine—at least to common Sense:
But who that unintelligible Wight
Can e'er decipher, call'd a Jacobite?
(The Appellation he with Pride do's claim,
Nor will I grutch him the auspicious Name)
How shall we him define, who ne'er could find
The Sentiments of his own wayward Mind?
Foe to his Own, and to his Country's Ease,
And whom no Colour of Affairs can please:
For, trust him with the Pow'r he do's aspire,
With mad Career he drives into the Mire;
While grov'ling there, in woful Plight he lies,
He wearies Earth and Heav'n with restless Cries.
Assist the Wretch, and place him on firm Land,
He'll curse the Friendly unexpected Hand.

PHILANDER.
How dismal were your State, ye murm'ring Race,
Shou'd your own fatal Wishes once take place?
But Heav'n, and Godlike Kings, their Grace extend,
And ev'n to save th'ingrateful condescend.

PALÆMON.
Ah! what can Heav'n, and Godlike Kings devise
For their Relief? what Charm unseal their Eyes,
Whom common Danger warns not to be wise?

PHILANDER.
Yet, good Palæmon, lest the Plague increase,
Mark out and brand the Troublers of our Peace.

PALÆMON.
The Faction a meer Hydra you will find,
Whose different Aspects to one Trunk are join'd,
Of Human Form, but all of Serpent-Kind.
Some hiss and murmur, whom no Schemes of Law
Can please, but what their own wild Notions draw;
Nor would ev'n these content the Changelings long.
Others by Sympathy affect the Wrong,
To Error by Impulse of Nature led,
Like Dungeon Toads on pois'nous Vapours fed,
'Mongst Caitiffs, who had sold for stated Sums
Their Country, summon'd now to hasty Dooms.
They who had longest trusted, most repin'd,
Discarded Knaves, to want and shame consign'd,
The Drudg'ry past, their dear Arrears behind.
For Envy some revile, who wanted Heart
In the bold Scene to bear a timely Part.
Some who nor Prince nor Providence dare trust,
Cautious how they too soon the Foe disgust,
Decry the Cause, of present Grace assur'd,
And wisely for another Turn secur'd.
Some sleepy Sots, born swiftly down the Stream,
Wake, stare, & think the wondrous Change a Dream,
Some who had lent their helping-hand, recoil;
For want of Business, their own Work they spoil;
Fall off, as they came on, they knew not why;
Start any Game, and they'll pursue the Cry.
Mistaken Politicks did some incense;
And some found fault for honest want of Sense.
The frailer Soul (for when were Women wise?)
Give ear to murm'ring Fiends suggested Lies,
Fair gloz'd to cheat 'em of their Paradise.

PHILANDER.
But Man methinks his Reason should recal,
Not let frail Woman work his second Fall.

PALÆMON.

PHILANDER.
Ah! when did Mischief in the State begin,
Where Conscience did not for her share come in?

PALÆMON.
Mark the whole Chain of Publick Woes, you'l find
The last Link still to the Priest's Girdle join'd.
Pan prosper me, as I the Function hold
Most Sacred, and the Watchmen of the Fold;
But hate the Shepherds who their Labour spare,
To Hirelings leave their Flocks, their only Care
To call at Sheering-time for an ungodly Share:
Fleece-warm, and with an Amaryllis sped,
They pipe and feast, and jocund Measures tread,
While their lean Sheep look up, and are not fed.
Nor care which way, make but the Stipend large,
Thro Door or Breach they climb into the Charge:
Profit with them is Grace's loudest Call;
Preferment's Sacred, let the Blessing fall
From a Court-Mistress, or a Priest of Baal.

PHILANDER.
From hence, from this corrupted Fountain's Head,
The poison'd Stream of Passive Nonsense spread.
Divines of Fortune, to deserve their Pay
From Court, the People to the Prince betray;
With Fire and Lough-Bells for his Service set,
To awe the Partridge, while he spreads his Net;
To honest Self-Defence Damnation give,
And ring their constant Peal, Prerogative.

PALÆMON.
While elder Chanticleers, and more inspir'd,
To sound the Spiritual Watch alone aspir'd,
Our young and dapper Brood of forward Chicks
No sooner perch, but scream out Politicks.
Grown Parish-Cocks, each in his Barn can crow
Against tame Fowl, but Cravens to the Foe;
Plump, richly-plum'd, and of the treading strain,
They strut amongst their Hens, and spread their pompous Train.

PHILANDER.
Ah! had the Passive System no support
Beside the Cock'ril Clergy of the Court,
The Church long since had lent the Cause her Hand;
But awful Names, and such as bore Command,
Too far, too long indulg'd the sickly Dream:
Peace springs; but while reserv'd those Leaders seem,
The Herd gaze on, and dare not tast the stream.

PALÆMON.
Enough: If Great Examples may prevail,
Our brightest Stars have scap'd the Dragon's Tail;
Have own'd Heav'ns Cause, and took their Michael's Part,
Nor e'er from free-born Truth's Defence did start;
Whose Sense no Gorgons, no Chimæras charm,
To hang dead Weights on their Restorer's Arm;
Who ne'er to slavish Principles gave way,
That would Religion, Church and State betray:
From antient Sanctions still their Measures drew;
And, tho they soar'd not with a modern Crew,
Eusebia ne'er cou'd boast of Sons more true.
In this bright List let that learn'd Champion come,
Eusebia's Glory, and the Scourge of Rome;
Whose piercing Wit to all her Frauds gave light,
The deep engender'd Births of Papal Night.
The Fiends, who long secure in Darkness lay,
Shrunk from his Beams, and yield at sight of Day.
Of num'rous Champions can Eusebia boast;
But this the Leader of the Sacred Host.

PHILANDER.
Yet equal Praise to that learn'd Pastor give,
Of Modern Skill, and Meekness Primitive;
But bold in Fight, with Arguments concise,
He lightens in the Eyes of Rome and Vice:
With Wonder Men, with Triumph Angels see
His blameless Life, from Pride and Passion free;
No Priest more frank the Ghostly Counsel gives;
No Lay-man with more lib'ral Hand relieves.
Unpractis'd in the Worldly Shepherd's Guile,
His Life's whole Business is to reconcile;
His very Aspect breathes an Air of Grace
So mild, he carries Gospel in his Face.

PALÆMON.
How shall Eusebia then her self excuse,
Whose Builders cou'd this Corner-stone refuse?

PHILANDER.
Yet e'en th'unjust Repulse his Worth confess'd,
Rejected by the Many, not the Best.

PALÆMON.
Ah! without Envy let the Truth be told,
Such as ne'er knew the Shepherd's staff to hold,
Fear'd Moderation wou'd set ope the Fold.

PHILANDER.
Oft have I found, while I my Sheep did guide
To Pastures sweet, the Friendly Gate set wide;
They freely enter'd, and my Crook obey'd,
But still of narrow Inlets were afraid:
Or if a Bridg too streight they spy'd afore,
Wou'd rather take the Stream, than venture o'er.
But say, what Prejudice had thence ensu'd,
Had they receiv'd the separate Multitude?
Was ever Shepherd yet a Foe to Peace,
Or e'er repin'd to see his Flock increase?

PALÆMON.
The Fold set ope, had gain'd more Sheep, 'tis true,
But had withal receiv'd more Shepherds too,
Who with new Stewards Diligence at first
(If not for Conscience-sake) their Flocks had nurs'd;
Our Loiterers from hence foresaw their Doom,
When none but painful Pastors cou'd have room.
This made 'em rave like Men on Ruin's brink,
And cry, the Deluge comes, stop ev'ry Chink,
Shut fast the Door, or else the Ark will sink.
To lose one useless Peg did Shipwreck seem,
And ev'ry rotten Rafter was a Beam.

PHILANDER.
Let question'd Beauties owe their Charms to Dress,
Eusebia's Frame does all that's Fair possess;
Too gaudy Tire but makes a Matron scorn'd,
Let mild Eusebia shine
A Firmament by her own Stars adorn'd.

PALÆMON.
Yet Meteors to the Firmament may rise,
And Comets Pestilent invade the Skies:
'Twas so of old.—
Their Influence in first Ages did appear,
Bright and untroubled shone the Church's Sphere,
Till Sons of Vengeance got th'Ascendent there.
In petty Factions first her Stars engag'd,
Till War broke out, and Persecution rag'd.
This Pest, by Constantine's warm Summer bred,
At once thro all th'infected Clergy spread.
The bloody Paths had long in vain been trod,
Till Heathen Princes, tir'd, threw down the Rod;
Ambitious Priests the Utensil to burn
Thought pity, till themselves had took their turn,
And persecuting by more dextrous Rules,
Prov'd Maximine and Dioclesian Fools.
'Twas Rooting up God's Heritage before,
While Magistrates the Iron Scepter bore:
In Them the Exercise, tho more severe,
Was Discipline, and Ecclesiastick Care.

PHILANDER.
For Church or State on Conscience to impose,
Must wider make the Breach they think to close:
And he that Fetters wou'd for Reason find,
May shackle the Sun-beams, and grasp the Wind,
Which no Restraints of Human Laws will know,
But where and when they please will shine or blow.
But Truth should bind; And your Opinion's true,
And erring Judgments should submit to you,
I grant.—
But first you must convince by Reason's Light,
That They mistake, and You are in the right:
Where You mistake, and they the Truth may hit,
Will you to your own Rule of Force submit?
You'll plead the Privilege They urg'd before,
Conviction crave, and They demand no more.
Conviction clear the Soul can only win;
With Club or Hammer try to force the Pin,
The Brains you may beat out, ne'r drive the Notion in.
Absurd the Zeal that Gospel's Pow'r promotes
'Gainst Gospel-Laws, and Peace by cutting Throats;
That Faith to plant does Charity disband,
And break for doubtful Truths a clear Command.
Since first this Pest the Christian World annoy'd,
Since Persecuting Power the Church enjoy'd,
Zeal marr'd Religion, Creeds the Faith destroy'd.

PALÆMON.
Where Rome bears sway, bid Laws Divine farewel,
And Human Rights t'assert, is to rebel.
Speak, suffering Witness, I appeal to Thee,
Thou First Apostle of our Liberty,
Condemn'd to Stripes. Thy Crime? Thou didst presume
To write 'gainst Arbitrary Pow'r and Rome;
Didst Inferences of strange Treason draw,
And say, 'Twas legal to defend the Law.
Thy envious Foes no other Crimes could urge,
And to confute thy Pen, produc'd the Scourge.

PHILANDER.
You mention'd Constantine, in whose mild Reign
The harass'd Church did first her Freedom gain,
When Priests secure to Bishopricks aspir'd,
Without First-Fruits of Martyrdom requir'd:
Tell me, How then could Cruelty intrude?
How came the Persecuting Plague renew'd?

PALÆMON.
Lust, Riot, Avarice, Ambition, Strife,
Are Bastard Off-springs of too peaceful Life.
With nice Disputes the wanton Priests began,
To Envy next, and wild Confusion ran;
Wou'd Mysteries too curiously enquire,
That first rais'd Smoke, then set the Church on Fire.
From brangling Arius the first Fire-brand came;

PHILANDER.
But Constantine took care to quench the Flame.

PALÆMON.
The Nicene Fathers, summon'd to decide
The Strife, instead of Lenitives apply'd,
Too late convinc'd th'indulgent Emperor,
How fatal 'twas to trust a Priest with Pow'r.

PHILANDER.
The pious Prince, to do th'Assembly Grace,
Refus'd (I've heard) Himself to take his place,
Till they were sat.—'Twas Favour ill apply'd,
If such Behaviour taught the Doctors Pride.

PALÆMON.
Then having, as a Christian Monarch ought,
First burnt th'Invectives which the Fathers brought
Against each Other, and for Union press'd,
Thus to the Council he himself address'd:
God made you Priests, and God alone can be
Your Judg; Rest therefore from my Censure free;
No Man shou'd judg of Gods, and You are Gods to Me.

PHILANDER.
When Princes yield, the Prelate must prevail.

PALÆMON.
When e'r did Priest to take Advantage fail?
Forthwith Church-Censures flew as thick as Hail:
The Arian System to just Flames assign'd,
And Nicene Creed with Penalties enjoyn'd.
They fix'd not here; but for each trifling Cause
The Metal try'd of their new Penal Laws.
Think how each Victor went triumphant home,
With Titles swell'd too bulky for his Dome,
From Council Orthodox and Catholick;
Each Hare that cross'd him was an Heretick.
And if his Horse but stumbl'd in his way,
Th'erroneous Beast incur'd th'Anathema.

PHILANDER.
Yet, since they squar'd by Rules of Sacred Writ
Their Symbol, you to their Decrees submit.

PALÆMON.
I own what e'er the Sacred Books contain,
Can Mysteries believe, tho not explain;
Have none in Footsteps of first Martyrs trod,
And dy'd for Truth, who ne'r conceiv'd the Mode?
Brand such as won't to Truths reveal'd agree,
But Penalties on such as cannot see
What others can, is Breach of Charity.
Had Charity in Synods interpos'd,
The seamless Garment's Rent had soon been clos'd,
Which to repair the wrangling Doctors try'd,
(While Metaphysicks Sacred Truths decide)
And by ill-botching made the Rent more wide;
But they had now learnt Sciences, and must
To their own Fame, as well as Truth be Just:
Would Mysteries, not like Mechanicks know,
But both the οτι and ιοτι show;
Were subtle School-men grown, and to agree,
Had Scandal been to their Philosophy.

PHILANDER.
But tell me, did these Clouds the Faith invade,
When first whole Nations were its Converts made?

PALÆMON.
The Faith shone clear till School-terms, rais'd like Mists,
Favour'd the Juggles of imposing Priests,
And Councils having Scripture Bounds o'er-past,
Advanc'd to forging of New Creeds at last;
Which by the Hocus of Infallible,
Went down so glib the Difference few could tell;
The Priest's Turn better serv'd, and pleas'd the Croud as well.
They heard how their Redeemer at his Death
Did Sacred Legacies to all bequeath,
Which if they'd now inspect, and had the skill,
The Church into her Hands had got the Will;
For now the Laity were left i'th' Lurch,
Th'encroaching Clergy were become the Church:
Nor stood the Magistrate on higher Ground,
In vain to Scripture their Appeals they found,
While 'twas the Church's Priv'lege to expound.
Thus (thro Indulgence, fond of such as reign'd,
And thro the People's Sloth) th'Ascendent gain'd,
Rome's Prelate top'd upon her Temp'ral Pow'r,
And from her Priest became her Emperor.
With artful Baits the Fisher long had sought,
And Empire was the Fish at last he caught.
But Time, and Breath, and Patience too wou'd fail,
To count the Steps of this prodigious Scale;
Suffice it, that at first th'Impostor gain'd
By Frauds his height, and by worse Frauds maintain'd;
Sloth, Ignorance, blind Zeal, and blinder Fear,
Combin'd to level Thrones, and mount the Chair.

PHILANDER.
'Twas then th'aspiring Clergy crown'd their Hope,
And form'd their Church-Leviathan, a Pope,
In whom they still possess the Pow'r they give,
Earth's Tyrant, but their Representative.

PALÆMON.
'Tis done, th'ambitious Priest has got the Day,
The Prelate rules, and Princes must obey;
The Spiritual Lord exalted to the Skies,
Looks down, and all the Subject World defies;
Does safe his Empyræan Height possess,
His only Care to manage his Success;
How to dispense his Beams, to whom be kind,
And who shall his Malignant Aspects find;
To whom large Territories he shall give,
To whom sell Crowns, & whom of Crowns deprive,
To judg who best to Merit does pretend,
And Merit is to be the Church's Friend.

PHILANDER.
For Crimes so black, that Human Nature shockt,
Unpeopled Earth, and Hell's Plantations stockt;
Th'Indulgence-Shop was ope'd with Pardons stor'd,
And to a Friend good pen'orths cou'd afford,
At th'old fixt Rates, the rest their Ware must take.

PALÆMON.
But if you're impious for the Church's sake,
Ev'n with their Office-Fees they can dispense,
They con you Thanks, and consecrate th'Offence.
A Cut-throat Priest of Murder cou'd make sport,
From Laws protected by the Spiritual Court;
Kings let him kill, and blackest Treasons act,
His Judges still were Parties in the Fact.

PHILANDER.
What if a Lay-man did the Priest offend?

PALÆMON.
An injur'd Priest, or who could Wrong pretend,
Cry'd, Burn the Heretick—the ready Stake
Forthwith did Pious Reparation make.

PHILANDER.
To hurt his Person made the Sentence Just,
What the Priest said, 'twas Death but to mistrust.

PALÆMON.
Fear more than Wit this Tyranny enjoin'd,
Lest the dull Croud at last the Cheat should find,
And to requite their gross pernicious Pranks,
Pull down their Stage, and stone the Mountebanks:
Dull Souls with Ease are of their Rights bereav'd,
But none revenge, like Fools, when undeceiv'd;
And strongest Stomachs, with large Draughts opprest,
The last disgusts, and throws up all the rest:
Heap Crime on Crime, to keep the Frauds from Air,
The last of course must lie expos'd and bare;
And too much Weight o'erthrow the guilty Chair.
Now Monster, Triple-Crown'd, expect thy Doom,
Luther the Saxon Thunder-bolt is come,
T'unhinge at once the Babel-Toils of Rome.
For tho to Heav'n the threatning Front aspire,
He'll shew the wretched Basis laid in Mire
In Papal Nets, shall Breaches make so wide,
That Kings & Kingdoms thro the Rents shall slide.
Then shall Eusebia, cloth'd in Truth Divine,
Her Roman Rust fil'd off, the Stars out-shine.

PHILANDER.
Far must her first Reformers Skill extend,
To leave succeeding Ages nought to mend.

PALÆMON.
I don't pretend to judg, since all confess
Her Beauty, who except against her Dress;
Which if she may with Decency neglect,
Or does too much the Roman Mode affect,
I leave her Guides that Question to decide,
And dare not charge the Sacred Dame with Pride:
I'd see Contention, but not Order cease;
Order is needful, nor less needful Peace:
Hope, tho unthinking Formalists repine,
Th'Indulgent Mother will at last incline
To gratify her Pious Constantine,
The Hero from Domestick Cares unbind
To prosecute the Business of Mankind;
Wave Jealousies, and yield the Trust that's due
To her kind Patron, and Restorer too.
Her Sacred Birth-right may she so retain,
Dissenting Flocks so may her Sheep-folds gain,
And leave the baffl'd Wolf to grin & houl in vain.

PHILANDER.
The Mother still in vain will condescend,
In vain to wilful Sons her Arms extend;
As she enclines let them Advances make,
Beware how Pride for Conscience they mistake;
How uncommission'd Shepherds lead astray,
Securely on the wilder'd Sheep to prey.
Divided Flocks, but make the Wolf more bold,
The greatest Safety's in the common Fold;
The Bars remov'd, Compliance mild will show
Your Pastor's Care, if for Themselves or You.
Our ablest Guides for Comprehension strive,
That Sacred Union may once more revive;
None more than He who late the Mitre took,
Deserv'dly, as before He held the Crook,
The skilful'st Textman at the Shepherd's Book:
True to his Function, and the Publick-Weal,
For which his steddy Votes have prov'd his Zeal:
In each Debate (by Party or Design
Unbiass'd) does his Country's Int'rest join,
And stamps on State-Decrees a Seal Divine.
What Shepherd from his Judgment would divide,
What Flock refuse to wait on such a Guide,
Whose Truth and Courage has of old been try'd?
Whom not the raging Pestilence could make
To slake Attendance, or his Charge forsake;
His Sheep to Comfort did their Danger share,
When Hirelings fled, and for themselves took care.

PALÆMON.
From hence let Britain her new Freedom date,
The Church consenting to support the State,
Since she at last has found a King to Trust,
And Worthy Senate, who to both are Just.

PHILANDER.
Hail, generous Patriots, you that poize the Realm!
And lest encroaching Waves the State o'er-whelm,
Bring kind Supplies while Cæsar sits at Helm.
In vain th'Oppress'd would call for his Alarms,
And Conquest beckon forth his Pious Arms,
Unless with Europe's Freedom you comply'd;
Cæsar and You must Europe's Fate decide,
Invading Pow'rs within just Limits draw,
Teach Tyrants Justice, and Oppressors Law.
For tho the Gallick Pride has swell'd so high,
United States and Empire to defy,
Stol'n Conquest boast, & Neighbouring Cities hold,
The wretched Purchase of extorted Gold;
From you, the Tyrant his Just Doom must wait,
For Nero's Guilt must look for Nero's Fate:
Ev'n now the State-Magician in his Cell,
Sits close contriving some new impious Spell,
Which He sends forth his Dæmons to perform,
Well-skill'd to raise, but dares not meet the Storm:
'Tis You the Sword must furnish, You must Arm
Our Pious Hero to dissolve the Charm.

PALÆMON.
Our Swains o'er-joy'd their Senate's Conduct see,
And carve their Sacred Names on ev'ry Tree;
To their disposal yield their Grain and Fleece,
A ready Off'ring to their Country's Peace.

PHILANDER.
Oh! like our Patriots may our Swains agree!
From home-bred Strife, as foreign Dangers free:
So shall our Vales resume their former Lays,
And Shepherds skill'd in Song the Consort raise,
To celebrate once more our great Restorer's Praise;
Employ their Leasure purchas'd by his Toil,
In Raptures on Juverne's rescu'd Soil.

PALÆMON.
Repeat, kind Youth, for I o'er-heard your Strain
Last Night, by Moon-shine, from the dusky Plain,
That joins the Copse, my Farms extremest Bounds;
Repeat, for they were more than vulgar Sounds.
Your Song pursu'd the Hero to the Coast
Of moist Juverne, where the adverse Host
Confus'd, the Mountain Passes did resign,
And shew'd their Rear to the disdaining Boyne,
On whose steep Banks our British Troops you left:
Of what ensu'd the listning Dales bereft;
Nor had retrencht your welcome Notes so soon,
If shrill Lycisca had not bay'd the Moon.

PHILANDER.
To happy Swains that task I must resign,
Who sing beneath the Shade of their own Vine;
From dewy Morn, and sultry Noon can creep
To their cool Sheds, and chuse to pipe or sleep;
With vacant Songs call up the Ev'ning Star,
Their Strains may rouze the noble din of War,
Make Squadrons move, give foaming Steeds the Rein,
And trace a Hero through the dusty Plain,
Lure hov'ring Conquest down where they incline;
Thro all you see the gen'rous Freedom shine:
And what false strokes their Pencil strikes in Heat,
Their happy Leisure makes correct and great.
What can Philander do, the wretched Heir
Of Thought-confounding Grief, and Slave of Care,
To servile Hours of tedious Day confin'd,
Expos'd all Night to welter thro the Wind,
To tend in Sun-burnt Lawn, or thirsty Dale,
His Master's Flock, and must make good the Tale?
How shall the strict Damætas be repay'd?
Suppose a Milcher stoln, or Firstling stray'd;
With Notes refin'd can I repair the Wrong,
Or make him Restitution with a Song?
'Twas then great Maro found the Art to charm,
When he regain'd his Freedom and his Farm,
With Meadows, and an Oaten Pipe began,
Till warm'd with ripening Beams he sung the Man.
Thy poor Philander to the Muses Seat
By stealth has crept, and felt th'inspiring Heat;
Been Midnight-Present at the sacred Quire,
Has seen'd the laurel'd God, and heard his Lire;
In smooth Pirene dipt his Fancy's Wing,
And tasted of the learn'd Castalian Spring.
What steads it that he knows his Flow'rs to cull,
If ruffling Care, before his Garland's full,
Confound the fancy'd Order in a Trice,
Moil his clear Spring, and blast his Paradise?

PALÆMON.
Yet has our Britains Pollio heard thy Lays?

PHILANDER.
Our Pollio's Skill might Phebus Envy raise:
For tho the Court be Pollio's proper Sphere,
Altho he shines the brightest Planet there,
He thinks no scorn sometimes to cheer the Plain,
Oft condescends to hear the rural Strain;
Yet Pollio's Smiles should make no Shepherd vain.
My uncouth Muse let gibing Goat-Herds laugh
To Death, and Codrus write her Epitaph,
If Pollio's Goodness she so far abuse,
Or Ween he likes because he does Excuse.
On Wits steep Heights he sits the ruling God,
Those Heights which by himself alone are trod,
Yet thence vouchsafes his gentle Beams to throw,
And pitys all the panting Croud below.

PALÆMON.
Yet William's Praise no Shepherd can refuse,
And Fortune may assist the daring Muse:
Deep Sense of Duty, and immense Desire
Can make the Pipe keep Consort with the Lire,
The vanquish'd Boyne and Shannon will inspire.

PHILANDER.