 | Poems on Affairs of State |  |
Smectymnuus, or the Club-Divines.
Smectymnuus!
the Goblin makes me start:
I'th'name of Rabbi Abraham, what art?
Some Conjuror translate, and let me know it,
Till then 'tis fit for a West-Saxon Poet.
But do the Brotherhood thus play their Prizes,
Like Mummers in Religion, with Disguises?
Out-brave us with a Name in Rank and File?
A Name, which if 'twere train'd wou'd spread a Mile.
The Saints Monopoly, the Zealots Cluster;
Which like a Porcupine presents a Muster,
And shoots his Quills at Bishops and their Sees;
A devout Litter of young Maccabees.
Thus Jack of all Trades has distinctly shown
The twelve Apostles in a Cherry-stone.
I'th'name of Rabbi Abraham, what art?
Some Conjuror translate, and let me know it,
Till then 'tis fit for a West-Saxon Poet.
But do the Brotherhood thus play their Prizes,
Like Mummers in Religion, with Disguises?
Out-brave us with a Name in Rank and File?
A Name, which if 'twere train'd wou'd spread a Mile.
The Saints Monopoly, the Zealots Cluster;
Which like a Porcupine presents a Muster,
And shoots his Quills at Bishops and their Sees;
A devout Litter of young Maccabees.
Thus Jack of all Trades has distinctly shown
The twelve Apostles in a Cherry-stone.
Next Sturbridg-Fair is Smec's; for lo! his Side
Into a five-fold Lazar's multiply'd.
Under each Arm there's tack'd another Gizard,
Five Faces lurk under one single Vizard.
The Whore of Babylon left these Brats behind,
Heirs of Confusion by Gavelkind.
Into a five-fold Lazar's multiply'd.
Under each Arm there's tack'd another Gizard,
Five Faces lurk under one single Vizard.
The Whore of Babylon left these Brats behind,
Heirs of Confusion by Gavelkind.
Like a Scots Mark, where the more modest Sense
Checks the loud Praise, and shrinks to 13 Pence;
Like to an Ignis Fatuus, whose Flame,
Tho sometimes Tripartite, joins in the same:
Like to nine Taylors, who, if rightly spell'd,
Into one Man are monosyllabled:
Short-handed Zeal in one hath cramped many,
Like to the Decalogue in a single Penny.
Checks the loud Praise, and shrinks to 13 Pence;
Like to an Ignis Fatuus, whose Flame,
Tho sometimes Tripartite, joins in the same:
21
Into one Man are monosyllabled:
Short-handed Zeal in one hath cramped many,
Like to the Decalogue in a single Penny.
The Sadducees would raise a Question,
Who shall be Smec at the Resurrection?
Who coop'd them up together, were to blame;
Had they but wire-drawn and spun out the Name,
'Twould make another Prentices Petition,
Against the Bishops and their Superstition.
Some Welshman was his Godfather; for he
Wears in his Name his Genealogy.
The Banes are ask'd, would but the Times give way,
Between Smectymnuus and Et cætera:
The Guests, invited by a friendly Summons,
Should be the Convocation and the Commons:
The Priest to tie the Foxes Tails together,
Mosely, or Sancta Clara, chuse you whether.
Thus might Religions caterwaul, and Spight,
Which uses to divorce, might once unite:
But their cross Fortunes interdict their Trade,
The Groom is rampant, but the Bride is spay'd.
Who shall be Smec at the Resurrection?
Who coop'd them up together, were to blame;
Had they but wire-drawn and spun out the Name,
'Twould make another Prentices Petition,
Against the Bishops and their Superstition.
Some Welshman was his Godfather; for he
Wears in his Name his Genealogy.
The Banes are ask'd, would but the Times give way,
Between Smectymnuus and Et cætera:
The Guests, invited by a friendly Summons,
Should be the Convocation and the Commons:
The Priest to tie the Foxes Tails together,
Mosely, or Sancta Clara, chuse you whether.
Thus might Religions caterwaul, and Spight,
Which uses to divorce, might once unite:
But their cross Fortunes interdict their Trade,
The Groom is rampant, but the Bride is spay'd.
I could by Letters now untwist the Rabble,
Whip Smec from Constable to Constable;
But there I leave you to another dressing,
Only kneel down, and take your Father's Blessing:
Whip Smec from Constable to Constable;
But there I leave you to another dressing,
Only kneel down, and take your Father's Blessing:
May the Queen-Mother justify your Fears,
And stretch her Patent to your Leathern Ears.
And stretch her Patent to your Leathern Ears.
| Poems on Affairs of State | |