University of Virginia Library

In pious all-reforming times,
When Sense and Learning were thought crimes,
When zeal had got the start of Reason,
And Loyalty was called Treason;
When apostolic constitutions
Were banish'd by new revolutions,
Instead of which, the Sough and Tone
Were counted orthodox alone;
When Impudence, Grimace and Cant,
Were thought enough to make a Saint;
And when a sullen wry-mouth'd Face
Past for a certain mark of Grace;
When Pulpit-thumpers did express
Their indigested raw address,
With far less manners, though more Tone,
To Heav'n, than to the British throne,
And less devoutly supplicate
Their God, than civil magistrate;
Cry'd down all forms of prayer, rather
Than lye, in calling God their Father;
Then cramm'd and stuff'd the long-ear'd croud
With new-coin'd doctrine long and loud,
Amusing all the list'ning press
With most seraphic emptiness.
When uprightness and honesty,
Insipid dry morality,
And learning, were a-packing sent,
As rebels to the government;
When penitence was called Pop'ry,
And abstinence but monkish Fopp'ry,
Forgiving injuries, mere jests,
Preach'd only by prelatic Priests,
Who lead their simple Flocks astray
From the more powerful gospel-way;
Religion now, like navigation,
Is much improved in the nation,
And now the Helm to such is given,
Who steer a nearer course to Heaven,
And teach their hearers to love God,
By hating man, which is right odd:
When cross-grain'd Saints no Glore would sing
To God, nor honoured the King,
The stubborn and rebellious Crew
Give neither God nor Cæsar's due,
As if they were predestinate
To hate all that is Good or Great,
And by Decrees of Fate appointed
Still to oppose the Lord's anointed;
When covenanted Saints did join,
With merry hearts, to drink their wine:
In these brave days the mighty Mob,
Like him who once harassed Job,
Run to and fro throughout the nation,
And madly wrought up Reformation;
What avarice, or pride, or spight,
Produc'd, was called Claim of Right;
Whate'er they did, by force or awe,
It was, or they could make it, Law;
Which I could prove by Syllogism,
As clear as that a Cone's no Prism,
By reasons good, drawn a majori
Ad minus, if you'll hear the story;
For sure it is no harder thing,
To make the law, than make the King;
This then the Mob can do at random,
So that, quod erat demonstrandum,
A certain M---ch of great fame,
Known by his Nose, we'll blank his name,
Avouch'd, which proves the thing no fable,
The jus divinum of the Rabble;
And if we view the state of nature,
A King is but the people's creature.
When men sprung from the ground, like garlic,
Then all the Sons of Earth were warlike,
Not one would yield unto another,
Each Whore-son fought against his brother,
Like those sprung from the Dragon's Teeth,
One brother sought another's death;
And this, forsooth, they did the rather,
Because they had no common father,
Who by paternal right may reign;
Then first the Mob set up a King,
And still they have this power inherent,
To make their Gods, or God's Vicegerent;
And they who have the pow'r to make them,
At pleasure can in pieces break them.
So children playing in a ring,
Gravely set up a nine-pin King,
With this design, as is most plain,
That they may knock him down again.

The christian Reader will excuse,
The lawless freedom of my Muse,
Which from the subject here digresses,
To prove what Haly-kirk professes;
Besides, if men did not digress,
'Tis known the Pulpit and the Press,
When now employed by such Asses
Would waste less Paper and Sand-glasses,
So here my Muse doth scrape a Leg,
And courteous Reader's pardon beg,
That, if to make the verse to clink,
I only speak what others think,
Or, in pursuing of my project,
I err in Prosody or Logic,
He kindly may excuse my Babble;
So I return unto the Rabble.