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When Hodge had numbered up how many score
The Airy Pyramid contain'd, he swore,
No Mortal Wight e're Climb'd so high before:
To the best vantage plac'd he views around
The Imperial Town, with lofty Turrets Crown'd;
That wealthy Store-house of the bounteous Flood,
Whose Peaceful Tides o'reflow our Land with good:
Confused forms flit by his wondring Eyes,
And his rapt Souls o'rewhelm'd with Extasies:
Some God it seems had enter'd his plain Breast,
And with's abode the rustick Mansion blest;
Almighty change he feels in every part,
Light shines in's Eyes, and Wisdom rules his Heart:
So when her Pious Son, fair Venus shew'd
His flaming Troy, with Slaughter'd Dardans strew'd;
She Purg'd his Opticks, fill'd with mortal Night,
And Troy's sad Doom he read, by Heaven's light,
Such light Divine broke on the Clouded Eyes
Of humble Hodge.
Regions remote, Courts, Councils, Pollicies,
The circling wills of Tyrants treacheries:
He Views, Discerns, Uncyphers, Penetrates,
From Charles's Dukes, to Europes armed States;
First he beholds Proud Rome and France Combin'd,
By double Vassallage to enslave Man-kind;
That wou'd the Soul, this wou'd the Body sway,
Their Bulls and Edicts, none must dis-obey.
For these with War sad Europe they inflame,
Rome says for God, and France declares for Fame:
See Sons of Satan know Religions force,
Is Gentleness, Fame bought with Blood a Curse,
He whom all still'd Delight of human kind,
Justice and Mercy, Truth with Honour joyn'd:
His kindly Rays cherish the teeming Earth,
And struggling Virtue blest with prosperous Birth;
Like Chaos you the tott'ring Globe Invade,
Religion cheat, and War ye make a Trade.
Next the lewd Palace of the Plotting King,
To's Eyes new Scenes of Frantick Folly bring;
Behold (says he) the Fountain of our Woe,
From whence our Vices and our Ruin flow:
Here Parents their own Of-spring prostitute,
By such vile Arts t'obtain some viler Suit;
Here blooming Youth adore Priapus's shrine,
And Priests pronounce him Sacred and Divine.
The Gotish God behold in his Alcove,
(The secret Scene of Damn'd incestuous Love.)
Melting in Lust, and Drunk like Lot, he lies
Betwixt two bright Daughter Divinities:
Oh! that like Saturn he had eat his Brood,
And had been thus stain'd with their impious Blood,
He had in that less ill, more Man-hood shew'd.
Cease, cease, (O C---) thus to pollute our Isle,
Return, return to thy long wish'd Exile;
There with thy Court defile thy Neighbour States,
And with thy Crimes precipitate their fates.
See where the Duke in damn'd Divan does sit,
To's vast designs wracking his Pigmy Wit,
Whilst a choice Senate of the Ignatian Crew,
The waies to Murder, Treason, Conquest shew;
Dissenters they oppress with Laws severe,
That whilst to Wound those Innocents, we fear,
Their cursed Sect we may be forc'd to spare.
Twice the Reform'd must fight a Bloody Prize,
That Rome and France may on their ruin rise:
Old Bonner, single Hereticks did burn,
These Reform'd Cities into Ashes turn,
And every year new Fires make us Mourn:
Ireland stands ready for his Cruel Reign,
Well fatned once, she gapes for Blood again,
For Blood of English Martyrs basely Slain.
Our Valiant Youth abroad must learn the Trade
Of unjust War, their Country to Invade,
Whilst others here do Guard us to prepare
Our Gaulded Necks, his Iron Yoke to bear.
Lo how the Wight already is betray'd,
And Bashaw Holmes, does the poor Isle invade:
T'ensure the Plot, France must her Legions lend
Rome to restore, and to Enthrone Romes Friend:
'Tis in return, James does our Fleet betray;
(That Fleet whose Thunder made the World obey;)
Ships once our safety, and our glorious might,
Are doom'd with Worms and rottenness to fight;
Whilest France rides Soveraign o're the British Main,
Our Merchants robb'd, and our brave Seamen ta'ne:
Thus this rash Phaeton with fury hurl'd,
And rapid rage consumes our British World;
Blast him, Oh Heavens! in his mad Career,
And let this Isle no more his Frency fear.
C--- J---, 'tis he that all good Men abhor,
False to thy self, but to thy Friend much more;
To him who did thy promis' Pardon hope,

Coleman.

Whilst with pretended Joy he kiss'd the Rope:
O'rewhelm'd with Guilt, and gasping out a Lye,
Deceiv'd and unprepar'd, thou lets him Dye,
Whith equal Gratitude and Charity
In spight of Jermin, and of Black-mouth'd Fame;
This St***s trick Legitimates thy Name.
With one consent we all her Death desire,
Who durst her Husbands and her Kings Conspire;
And now just Heavens prepar'd to set us free,
Heaven and our hopes, are both oppos'd by thee:
Thus fondly thou do'st Hides old Treason own,
Thus makes thy new suspected Treason known.

Bless me What's that at Westminster I see?
That peice of Legislative Pageantry?
To our dear James, has Rome her Conclave lent?
Or has Charles bought the Paris Parliament:
None else wou'd promote James with so much Zeal;
Who by Proviso hopes the Crown to Steal:
See how in humble guise the Slaves advance,
To tell a tale of Army, and of France;
Whilst proud Prerogative in's scornful Guise
Their fear, Love, Duty, danger does despise;
There in a brib'd Committee they contrive,
To give our Birth-right's to Prerogative:
Give, did I say? They sell, and sell so dear,
That half each Tax D--- distributes there
D---, 'tis fit the price so great shou'd be,
They sell Religion, sell their Liberty;
These Vipers have their Mothers Entrals torn,
And wou'd by force a second time be born;
They haunt the place to which you once were sent,
This Ghost of a departed Parliament.

Octob. the 15th 76.

Gibbets and Halters Country Men prepare,
Let none, let none, their Renegadoes spare:
When that day comes we'll part the Sheep and Goats,
The spruce brib'd Monsieurs from the true Grey Coats,
New Parliaments like Manna, all tasts please,
But kept too long our Food, turns our Disease;
From that loath'd sight, Hodge turn'd his weeping Eyes
And London thus Alarms with Loyal cries.
Tho' common danger does approach so nigh,
This Stupid Town sleeps in security:
Out of your Golden Dream awake, awake,
Your all, your all, tho' you see 't not's at stake,
More dreadful Fires approach your falling Town,
Then those which burnt your stately Structures down.
Such fatal Fires, as once in Smith-field shone.
If then ye stay till Edward's Orders give,

Major

No mortal Arme your safety can retrieve;
See how with Golden baits the crafty Gaul
Has brib'd our Geese to yield the Capital;
And will ye tamely see your selves betray'd;
Will none stand up in our dear Country's aid?

Self-preservation, Natures first great Law,
All the Creation, except Man, does awe,
'Twas in him fix'd, till lying Priests defac'd
His Heav'n born Mind, and Natures Tablets raz'd.
Tell me (ye forging Crew) what Law reveal'd
By God, to Kings the Jus Divinum seal'd?
If to do good, ye Jus Divinum call,
It is the grand Prerogative of all:
If to do Ill unpunished be their Right,
Such Power's not granted that great King of night;
Man's life moves on the Poles of hope and fear,
Reward and pain all Orders do revear.
But if your dear Lord Sov'raigne you would spare,
Admonish him in his Blood-thirsty Heir:
So when the Royal Lyon does offend,
The beaten Currs example makes him mend:
This said poor Hodge, then in a broken tone,
Cry'd out, Oh Charles! thy Life, thy Life, thy Crown;
Ambitious James, and Bloody Priests Conspire,
Plots, Papists, Murders, Massacres, and Fire;
Poor Protestants! With that his Eyes did rowl;
His Body fell, out fled his frighted Soul.