The Works of Mr. Robert Gould In Two Volumes. Consisting of those Poems [and] Satyrs Which were formerly Printed, and Corrected since by the Author; As also of the many more which He Design'd for the Press. Publish'd from his Own Original Copies [by Robert Gould] |
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| 2. | The Second Part. |
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 | The Works of Mr. Robert Gould |  |
132
2. The Second Part.
When
Pharaoh's Num'rous Host was now no more,
And Israel's Guide had reach'd the happy Shore,
One wou'd have thought, so many Wonders past,
They wou'd have been all Gratitude at last;
And with loud Voices, in Eternal Lays,
Have Prais'd their God, and kept his Right'ous Ways.
And Israel's Guide had reach'd the happy Shore,
One wou'd have thought, so many Wonders past,
They wou'd have been all Gratitude at last;
And with loud Voices, in Eternal Lays,
Have Prais'd their God, and kept his Right'ous Ways.
Quite contrary we Read th'Event was found;
In a few Days, thro' all the Camp around,
'Twas Slight, Despondence, and a Murmuring Sound:
Their downward Souls, not daring to be free,
Abhor'd the Hand that gave 'em Liberty.
In a few Days, thro' all the Camp around,
'Twas Slight, Despondence, and a Murmuring Sound:
Their downward Souls, not daring to be free,
Abhor'd the Hand that gave 'em Liberty.
But never was there known, as Authors tell,
(Gifted alike to Murmur and Rebel)
Before our Times that People's Parallel.
What more from Impious Pharaoh cou'd they fear
Than we from Rome's more fatal Slavery here?
Not a worse Scene was the Erythrean Shore
Behind their Tyrant, and the Sea before.
And yet e'er we cou'd think Defence was near,
The Storm was silenc'd, and the Heav'ns were clear;
Away at once the threat'ning Terrors fled,
And Peace and Safety settl'd in their stead.
We all cry'd Liberty! Enfranchisment!
Trade! Plenty! Property! with one Consent;
And Orange under Heav'n was own'd the Mighty Instrument.
(Gifted alike to Murmur and Rebel)
Before our Times that People's Parallel.
133
Than we from Rome's more fatal Slavery here?
Not a worse Scene was the Erythrean Shore
Behind their Tyrant, and the Sea before.
And yet e'er we cou'd think Defence was near,
The Storm was silenc'd, and the Heav'ns were clear;
Away at once the threat'ning Terrors fled,
And Peace and Safety settl'd in their stead.
We all cry'd Liberty! Enfranchisment!
Trade! Plenty! Property! with one Consent;
And Orange under Heav'n was own'd the Mighty Instrument.
The very Men themselves that now we blame
For changing Masters, then believ'd the same;
Their Service in the Common Cause they'd boast,
And argu'd but for Him w'ad all been lost:
Their Danger then had made 'em lose their Spite,
And in their very Fears they found their Sight:
But Cowardice no Gen'rous Fruit can bear,
And a forc'd Duty is the least sincere:
For soon Conversing with the Popish Crew,
(Nor to their Safety, nor their Reason true,)
They left their Party—and their Senses too.
For changing Masters, then believ'd the same;
Their Service in the Common Cause they'd boast,
And argu'd but for Him w'ad all been lost:
Their Danger then had made 'em lose their Spite,
And in their very Fears they found their Sight:
But Cowardice no Gen'rous Fruit can bear,
And a forc'd Duty is the least sincere:
For soon Conversing with the Popish Crew,
(Nor to their Safety, nor their Reason true,)
They left their Party—and their Senses too.
Why else, when so much Publick Good is done,
Is such a strange Dissatisfaction shown?
Why shou'd they wish his Ruin who so late
Sav'd 'em from theirs, and rais'd a sinking State?
Why shou'd they wear so diffident a Brow?
All smiling lately, and all Railing now!
Unless 'twas only Change they aim'd at then,
And, not Preferr'd, are for a Change agen:
More Proud than Just, and more Perverse than Wise,
Nor care if Kingdoms fall so they can rise.
Is such a strange Dissatisfaction shown?
Why shou'd they wish his Ruin who so late
Sav'd 'em from theirs, and rais'd a sinking State?
Why shou'd they wear so diffident a Brow?
All smiling lately, and all Railing now!
Unless 'twas only Change they aim'd at then,
And, not Preferr'd, are for a Change agen:
More Proud than Just, and more Perverse than Wise,
Nor care if Kingdoms fall so they can rise.
134
But that we may the livelier paint their Crimes,
Once more we'll touch upon the Papal Times.
The Bow stood bent and levell'd at our Lives,
Our Throats were stretch'd beneath the Roman Knives,
While Rape but for the Word expecting stood,
First to begin in Lust, and end in Blood.
The Rights and Freedoms we so much admire,
All Hopeless lay, and Gasping to expire.
Torn Charters fell, thick as a Fleecy Show'r,
Blown thro' the Land by Arbitrary Pow'r.
Reliev'd of all these Evils, who'd have here
Deny'd the Tribute of their Praise and Pray'r?
Quite contrary (with equal Jewish Spite)
These Men are blind amidst the Glare of Light;
And over to a strong Delusion giv'n,
Murmur at Mercies in the Face of Heav'n.
Once more we'll touch upon the Papal Times.
The Bow stood bent and levell'd at our Lives,
Our Throats were stretch'd beneath the Roman Knives,
While Rape but for the Word expecting stood,
First to begin in Lust, and end in Blood.
The Rights and Freedoms we so much admire,
All Hopeless lay, and Gasping to expire.
Torn Charters fell, thick as a Fleecy Show'r,
Blown thro' the Land by Arbitrary Pow'r.
Reliev'd of all these Evils, who'd have here
Deny'd the Tribute of their Praise and Pray'r?
Quite contrary (with equal Jewish Spite)
These Men are blind amidst the Glare of Light;
And over to a strong Delusion giv'n,
Murmur at Mercies in the Face of Heav'n.
In vain our Hero's happy in his Toils,
In vain the War does spare the British Isles,
In vain Augusta triumphs, and Eusebia smiles;
In all the Blessings Subjects can possess,
Their only Comfort is to make 'em less.
In vain the War does spare the British Isles,
In vain Augusta triumphs, and Eusebia smiles;
In all the Blessings Subjects can possess,
Their only Comfort is to make 'em less.
By what strange Witchcraft cou'd their Papal Friends
Work 'em so quickly to their Treach'rous Ends?
Where cou'd they the accurst Ingredients have,
That can so soon compose the Fool and Knave?
Disposing so their Poison thro' the whole;
It quite inverts the Truth, and black'ns to the Soul.
Work 'em so quickly to their Treach'rous Ends?
Where cou'd they the accurst Ingredients have,
That can so soon compose the Fool and Knave?
Disposing so their Poison thro' the whole;
It quite inverts the Truth, and black'ns to the Soul.
Nor do they only Silly Sheep infect,
But oft the Hand that shou'd those Sheep protect,
Of this we've bloody Instances of old;
But nothing than their last more Base, and Bold,
Which made us Objects of that Monarch's Hate
Whom we had lifted to the Regal State,
In Spite of Factions, and almost in Spite of Fate.
The Ways and Means we need not mention here,
Seen by all Eyes, and heard by ev'ry Ear,
How e'er our Loyal Deeds had like to cost so dear:
But, hood-wink'd by Apocryphal Divines,
He owes his Ruin to their damn'd Designs.
'Tis true, they Threatn'd, Flatter'd, Brib'd and Writ
But Fools and Women, (which may shew their Wit)
Were all the Proselytes they e'er could get:
Unless by chance, among the Thoughtless Fry,
Some Hireling Pens deserted by the By.
All ways to buoy their Sinking Cause they us'd;
The Bloodiest, Blackest Methods stood excus'd,
If fast to their Design;—which was to do,
Ev'n worse than Lewis by his Hugonot Crew;
Not pack'd us off for Charity to Roam,
But making surer Work, hang'd us like Dogs at Home.
But oft the Hand that shou'd those Sheep protect,
Of this we've bloody Instances of old;
But nothing than their last more Base, and Bold,
135
Whom we had lifted to the Regal State,
In Spite of Factions, and almost in Spite of Fate.
The Ways and Means we need not mention here,
Seen by all Eyes, and heard by ev'ry Ear,
How e'er our Loyal Deeds had like to cost so dear:
But, hood-wink'd by Apocryphal Divines,
He owes his Ruin to their damn'd Designs.
'Tis true, they Threatn'd, Flatter'd, Brib'd and Writ
But Fools and Women, (which may shew their Wit)
Were all the Proselytes they e'er could get:
Unless by chance, among the Thoughtless Fry,
Some Hireling Pens deserted by the By.
All ways to buoy their Sinking Cause they us'd;
The Bloodiest, Blackest Methods stood excus'd,
If fast to their Design;—which was to do,
Ev'n worse than Lewis by his Hugonot Crew;
Not pack'd us off for Charity to Roam,
But making surer Work, hang'd us like Dogs at Home.
Such would have been the Times, we must allow,
Had that Persuasion flourish'd here till now:
(The Jehu's drove on with a furious Pace,
But by their very Swiftness lost the Race:)
And such will be the Times and such the Reign,
If that curst Doctrin mount the Stage again.
We once oblig'd 'em,—and some Authors say
We then were thought a duller Race than they,
For trusting Wolves, (whose Nature's to devour,)
And putting into dang'rous Hands the Reins of Soveraign Power.
'Tis true, we did so;—nor can sorry be,
For acting by the Rules of Equity;
Possest of all the Glories of a Throne,
He was but yet invested in his own.
Nor less her self our Loyal Church appears
To do her Duty, tho' they fail'd of Theirs.
The higher we advanc'd their Wealth and Pow'r,
The more our Treatment was Morose and Sour;
And cou'd they've found the Means to slake their Thirst,
The Arm that rais'd 'em had been Blooded first.
If then upon a just Survey, we find
Them most ungrateful, when we most were kind;
What can w'expect upon the certain Proof
W'are not their Friends—but made 'em glare aloof;
What milder Dealing can Britannia hope
From French Dragoons, and a yet Bloodier Pope,
But Fire and Faggot, Poison, Sword and Rope?
Had that Persuasion flourish'd here till now:
(The Jehu's drove on with a furious Pace,
But by their very Swiftness lost the Race:)
And such will be the Times and such the Reign,
If that curst Doctrin mount the Stage again.
We once oblig'd 'em,—and some Authors say
We then were thought a duller Race than they,
For trusting Wolves, (whose Nature's to devour,)
And putting into dang'rous Hands the Reins of Soveraign Power.
'Tis true, we did so;—nor can sorry be,
For acting by the Rules of Equity;
Possest of all the Glories of a Throne,
He was but yet invested in his own.
136
To do her Duty, tho' they fail'd of Theirs.
The higher we advanc'd their Wealth and Pow'r,
The more our Treatment was Morose and Sour;
And cou'd they've found the Means to slake their Thirst,
The Arm that rais'd 'em had been Blooded first.
If then upon a just Survey, we find
Them most ungrateful, when we most were kind;
What can w'expect upon the certain Proof
W'are not their Friends—but made 'em glare aloof;
What milder Dealing can Britannia hope
From French Dragoons, and a yet Bloodier Pope,
But Fire and Faggot, Poison, Sword and Rope?
'Tis needful then, we here should scan the Man,
That would retrieve so bad a Cause again:
That cry the BARQUE of State will overwhelm,
If the old PILOT come not to the HELM;
(He that engag'd us among Rocks and Shelves,
Then angry grew we wou'd not Wreck our selves.)
That say the CHURCH is tott'ring and will fall,
And ah!—You see we are divided all;
When they so very far mistake the Point,
There's nothing but their Faction out of Joint.
Imagine one Man worse than all beside,
Made up of Rashness, Virulence and Pride;
Imagine him Licencious, False and Vain,
His Notions wrested, and his Biass Gain;
Conceive him last his Country's Dang'rous Foe,
Without one Grain of Reason to be so:
Blood his Design, Subversion his Delight,
And then you truly paint a Jacobite.
That would retrieve so bad a Cause again:
That cry the BARQUE of State will overwhelm,
If the old PILOT come not to the HELM;
(He that engag'd us among Rocks and Shelves,
Then angry grew we wou'd not Wreck our selves.)
That say the CHURCH is tott'ring and will fall,
And ah!—You see we are divided all;
When they so very far mistake the Point,
There's nothing but their Faction out of Joint.
Imagine one Man worse than all beside,
Made up of Rashness, Virulence and Pride;
Imagine him Licencious, False and Vain,
His Notions wrested, and his Biass Gain;
Conceive him last his Country's Dang'rous Foe,
Without one Grain of Reason to be so:
Blood his Design, Subversion his Delight,
And then you truly paint a Jacobite.
A Jacobite! the other French Disease,
And more Malignant if we let it seize;
For fluxing there relieves the Patient's Pains,
But give this Scope, and like a Plague it banes:
Of these there are two Sorts;—and one takes Pride
To shew what t'other strives as much to hide:
But tho' the last demurely Act his Part,
'Tis not for want of Rancour at the Heart;
Tho' what he means to do, he does not tell,
W'ave fatal Proof he serves the Turn as well:
Inveigles, Undermines, Allures, Betrays,
And plies his Task a hundred various ways:
Sad Times he cries;—then let him have our Curse,
That grants 'em wicked, and wou'd make 'em worse.
Thus one's a Bigot at full Length display'd,
While t'other Skulks about in Masquerade:
Yet tho' the first talks loud, and keeps a Pother,
He's not so dang'rous as his Silent Brother.
What Ward for Arrows flying in the Dark?
Or the Sly Cur, that Bites and will not Bark?
Such is this Man,—and can he miss the Mark?
And more Malignant if we let it seize;
137
But give this Scope, and like a Plague it banes:
Of these there are two Sorts;—and one takes Pride
To shew what t'other strives as much to hide:
But tho' the last demurely Act his Part,
'Tis not for want of Rancour at the Heart;
Tho' what he means to do, he does not tell,
W'ave fatal Proof he serves the Turn as well:
Inveigles, Undermines, Allures, Betrays,
And plies his Task a hundred various ways:
Sad Times he cries;—then let him have our Curse,
That grants 'em wicked, and wou'd make 'em worse.
Thus one's a Bigot at full Length display'd,
While t'other Skulks about in Masquerade:
Yet tho' the first talks loud, and keeps a Pother,
He's not so dang'rous as his Silent Brother.
What Ward for Arrows flying in the Dark?
Or the Sly Cur, that Bites and will not Bark?
Such is this Man,—and can he miss the Mark?
The Bully boldly shoots the Brothel Door,
And mounts the Stairs, Audacious to his Whore;
Nor cares to whom the Impious Crime is known,
But takes his Turn, and instantly is gone:
And tho' the Drab to Truth has no Pretence,
He ne'er Disputes her want of Innocence,
But Ventures Life and Fortune,—all in its Defence.
The secret Leacher, like a Guilty Spright,
Ne'er lets his Strumpet see him till 'tis Night;
And tho' 'tis Dark will yet be in Disguise,
And, Conscious of his Crime, thinks all are Spies.
Pray which of these is worst?—I know you'll say,
The Private Drudge that ply'd his Task till day,
And mounts the Stairs, Audacious to his Whore;
Nor cares to whom the Impious Crime is known,
But takes his Turn, and instantly is gone:
And tho' the Drab to Truth has no Pretence,
He ne'er Disputes her want of Innocence,
But Ventures Life and Fortune,—all in its Defence.
The secret Leacher, like a Guilty Spright,
Ne'er lets his Strumpet see him till 'tis Night;
And tho' 'tis Dark will yet be in Disguise,
And, Conscious of his Crime, thinks all are Spies.
Pray which of these is worst?—I know you'll say,
The Private Drudge that ply'd his Task till day,
These two Pernicious Monsters paint aright
Our Bare-fac'd, and our Vizor'd Jacobite.
One is a Papist, careless who does know
That he was bred, and will continue so:
What e'er He's bid the Implicit Fop will do,
Without Examining if false, or true,
And so keeps bright Conviction out of view.
The other in his Conduct shews you Skill,
And is at best but more discreetly ill:
What e'er his Brother openly intends,
He is for bringing round by Private Ends:
(For Your true Rascal must much cunning have
Tho' something still of Fool we find in ev'ry Knave:)
Will not he is of that Persuasion own,
(For little cou'd he serve his Party known:)
But, for a Blind declares He's one of Us;
And whether so, or not, we'll next discuss.
Our Bare-fac'd, and our Vizor'd Jacobite.
138
That he was bred, and will continue so:
What e'er He's bid the Implicit Fop will do,
Without Examining if false, or true,
And so keeps bright Conviction out of view.
The other in his Conduct shews you Skill,
And is at best but more discreetly ill:
What e'er his Brother openly intends,
He is for bringing round by Private Ends:
(For Your true Rascal must much cunning have
Tho' something still of Fool we find in ev'ry Knave:)
Will not he is of that Persuasion own,
(For little cou'd he serve his Party known:)
But, for a Blind declares He's one of Us;
And whether so, or not, we'll next discuss.
Is He a Protestant that wou'd o'erthrow
The Pillars that support his Being so?
A Child wou'd have the Answer ready—No.
But since so Brief an Answer may not do,
We'll take one other Step to prove it too,
Tho' needless, since so manifestly true.
The Pillars that support his Being so?
A Child wou'd have the Answer ready—No.
But since so Brief an Answer may not do,
We'll take one other Step to prove it too,
Tho' needless, since so manifestly true.
'Tis a known Lesson in the Roman School,
Who e'er makes one of us Embrace their Rule,
From sure Damnation does redeem a Soul.
Tho' we see thro' the Lawn of this Pretence,
It's want of Truth, of Honesty, and Sense,
Yet they run on; Conversion is the Cry,
And Peter's Keys are his that will comply.
With Truth they never yet one Convert made,
But flatter, threaten, or with Gold persuade;
Weakness may slip where so much Ice is laid:
We saw this Plain; our Chambers ne'er were free
From these loose Emp'ricks of Divinitie,
Who mixing the Divine Ingredients ill,
And worse applying, with that very Pill
By which we cure, deprave, insnare and kill:
For Christianity (the Scriptures show)
Needs not the Crutch of Cruelty to go;
She best supports her self; and can aspire
To Heav'n, or to an Humble Brest retire,
Without the aid of Inquisitions, or a Smithfield Fire
These are the gentle Means that Church has took
To gain us; Christian Bowels they've forsook,
And made a Murd'ring Sword of the Mild Shepherds Crook.
Stubborn in Principle, devout in ill,
Of Restless Nature, and Licentious Will.
The only Reformation they advance
Is to turn us from our Allegiance,
Or make the Prince assume a Lawless Pow'r,
While, sparing only them, He does all else devour:
Yet ev'n to Him they their Contempt reveal
In making Popes their Earthly last Appeal;
Transferring so his Rights to Foreign Hands,
For if that Priest but bid, in vain the Prince Commands:
Their Soveraigns thus his Properties are made
Their Royalties usurp'd, the People's Rights betray'd:
For Rome's curs'd Mufti aims but at two things,
The Coin from Subjects, and the Pow'r from Kings.
The Man that does advance a Popish Reign
Wou'd set all these Designs afoot again:
All Sense of Human Shame he then must want
And have, Seven-fold, a Jesuit's Brazen Front,
Who after this concludes himself a Protestant.
Who e'er makes one of us Embrace their Rule,
From sure Damnation does redeem a Soul.
Tho' we see thro' the Lawn of this Pretence,
It's want of Truth, of Honesty, and Sense,
Yet they run on; Conversion is the Cry,
And Peter's Keys are his that will comply.
With Truth they never yet one Convert made,
But flatter, threaten, or with Gold persuade;
Weakness may slip where so much Ice is laid:
We saw this Plain; our Chambers ne'er were free
From these loose Emp'ricks of Divinitie,
139
And worse applying, with that very Pill
By which we cure, deprave, insnare and kill:
For Christianity (the Scriptures show)
Needs not the Crutch of Cruelty to go;
She best supports her self; and can aspire
To Heav'n, or to an Humble Brest retire,
Without the aid of Inquisitions, or a Smithfield Fire
These are the gentle Means that Church has took
To gain us; Christian Bowels they've forsook,
And made a Murd'ring Sword of the Mild Shepherds Crook.
Stubborn in Principle, devout in ill,
Of Restless Nature, and Licentious Will.
The only Reformation they advance
Is to turn us from our Allegiance,
Or make the Prince assume a Lawless Pow'r,
While, sparing only them, He does all else devour:
Yet ev'n to Him they their Contempt reveal
In making Popes their Earthly last Appeal;
Transferring so his Rights to Foreign Hands,
For if that Priest but bid, in vain the Prince Commands:
Their Soveraigns thus his Properties are made
Their Royalties usurp'd, the People's Rights betray'd:
For Rome's curs'd Mufti aims but at two things,
The Coin from Subjects, and the Pow'r from Kings.
The Man that does advance a Popish Reign
Wou'd set all these Designs afoot again:
All Sense of Human Shame he then must want
And have, Seven-fold, a Jesuit's Brazen Front,
Who after this concludes himself a Protestant.
Either these Men notorious Coxcombs be,
Or very firmly think, that—such are we:
To bring in Popery, and take off the Test,
Yet of th'Establish'd English Church profess'd,
Is Inconsistent with all Reasons Rules;—
But they are Knaves that wou'd have all be Fools.
Some few past Years before your Memory set,
And mark if e'er such Contradictions met.
Engagements, Vows, and Oaths may once deceive,
So far methinks 'tis Human to believe:
But He that does Implicitly run on
When so much Publick Injury is done,
And thinks 'tis for our Safety and our Fame,
Must be an Ass,—or else he wants a Name.
Or very firmly think, that—such are we:
To bring in Popery, and take off the Test,
Yet of th'Establish'd English Church profess'd,
140
But they are Knaves that wou'd have all be Fools.
Some few past Years before your Memory set,
And mark if e'er such Contradictions met.
Engagements, Vows, and Oaths may once deceive,
So far methinks 'tis Human to believe:
But He that does Implicitly run on
When so much Publick Injury is done,
And thinks 'tis for our Safety and our Fame,
Must be an Ass,—or else he wants a Name.
How strangely is the Papal Herd misled!
But what's a Body with so false a Head?
To Heav'n the Holy Scriptures point their way,
And Truth (a greater Light than rules the Day)
Stands for their Guide;—in vain, they will not stir,
But follow One that will not follow Her,
Yet Impiously assert he cannot Err:
Not Err? when in the Eucharist they declare
The Flesh that Suffer'd on the Cross is there?
That tho' we Bread to outward Seeming see,
'Tis yet th'intire Essential Deitie?
No not at all;—nay further (adds the Priest)
'Tis but with Fools that Miracles are ceas'd:
Our Sons will give, (and Credit rightly Plac'd,)
More Faith ev'n to their Teachers, than their Tast.
So the Good Woman, tho' her Husband saw
Her in the Fact, not valu'd it a Straw;
But cry'd, at once to end all future Strife,
What? trust your Eyes before your nown Sweet Wife?
But what's a Body with so false a Head?
To Heav'n the Holy Scriptures point their way,
And Truth (a greater Light than rules the Day)
Stands for their Guide;—in vain, they will not stir,
But follow One that will not follow Her,
Yet Impiously assert he cannot Err:
Not Err? when in the Eucharist they declare
The Flesh that Suffer'd on the Cross is there?
That tho' we Bread to outward Seeming see,
'Tis yet th'intire Essential Deitie?
No not at all;—nay further (adds the Priest)
'Tis but with Fools that Miracles are ceas'd:
Our Sons will give, (and Credit rightly Plac'd,)
More Faith ev'n to their Teachers, than their Tast.
So the Good Woman, tho' her Husband saw
Her in the Fact, not valu'd it a Straw;
But cry'd, at once to end all future Strife,
What? trust your Eyes before your nown Sweet Wife?
But to return: Suppose the Man we here
Have mention'd, really no Papist were,
He shou'd be ne'er a Jot the less our Fear;
Since all his Actions to their Centre tend,
As fierce an Enemy, as false a Friend.
Were I seiz'd by two Ruffians strong and bold,
And one does cut my Throat, and t'other hold,
Or gag me, while he perpetrates the Act;
Which of the two is guilty of the Fact?
Why thus, e'en handy dandy chuse you whether,
For Law will tell you both must hang together.
Have mention'd, really no Papist were,
He shou'd be ne'er a Jot the less our Fear;
Since all his Actions to their Centre tend,
As fierce an Enemy, as false a Friend.
141
And one does cut my Throat, and t'other hold,
Or gag me, while he perpetrates the Act;
Which of the two is guilty of the Fact?
Why thus, e'en handy dandy chuse you whether,
For Law will tell you both must hang together.
Well then, if not a Protestant, (as we
Have cause to doubt) 'tis proper now to see
Of whence, and what Communion He can be.
—Not a Fanatick; they his Converse shun,
And fast enough to Wickedness can run,
Without th'Encouragement of Looing on:
Not but thus far we ought to Right their Fame,
The Jesuit 'tis, that finds and springs their Game.
Tho' here he can't devour so much as they,
He yet fills up their Cry, and shoots them at their Prey.
—Nor must he be a Quaker understood;
For 'tho' their bad, he yet is not so Good:
Prepost'rously they both Religion ply;
Those make it Farce, and these a Tragedy.
—Nor is he Baptist, Dryden's Bristl'd Boar,
Who tho' in Germany his Tusks he tore,
His Friends have deeper dip'd their Hands in Christian Gore:
In Piedmont was their Restless Fury try'd,
In Ireland too, their Butch'ry rag'd as wide
Nor only there, but half the World beside:
O blest Religion! sure to gain the Heart,
That wou'dst with Blood and Massacre convert!
Booted Apostles thy Converters are,
But, Search the Scriptures, find such Monsters there.
—Nor is he Turk or Jew—but if we scan
Him Rightly, a much more opprobrious Man;
His Kings and Countreys Traytor, so profess'd,
As he supports the Gallick Interest:
And who advances that (to name him right)
Must bear the odious Brand of Jacobite,
And next a Papist; half an Eye may see
Two Tallies more exactly can't agree,
Than now a Murm'ring Tongue with Popery.
A Papist to the Common-Weal's a Foe,
By Interest, Nature, and by Doctrine so;
That Common Foe a Villain we may write;
Of that Communion is a JACOBITE.
Have cause to doubt) 'tis proper now to see
Of whence, and what Communion He can be.
—Not a Fanatick; they his Converse shun,
And fast enough to Wickedness can run,
Without th'Encouragement of Looing on:
Not but thus far we ought to Right their Fame,
The Jesuit 'tis, that finds and springs their Game.
Tho' here he can't devour so much as they,
He yet fills up their Cry, and shoots them at their Prey.
—Nor must he be a Quaker understood;
For 'tho' their bad, he yet is not so Good:
Prepost'rously they both Religion ply;
Those make it Farce, and these a Tragedy.
—Nor is he Baptist, Dryden's Bristl'd Boar,
Who tho' in Germany his Tusks he tore,
His Friends have deeper dip'd their Hands in Christian Gore:
In Piedmont was their Restless Fury try'd,
In Ireland too, their Butch'ry rag'd as wide
Nor only there, but half the World beside:
O blest Religion! sure to gain the Heart,
That wou'dst with Blood and Massacre convert!
Booted Apostles thy Converters are,
But, Search the Scriptures, find such Monsters there.
—Nor is he Turk or Jew—but if we scan
Him Rightly, a much more opprobrious Man;
His Kings and Countreys Traytor, so profess'd,
As he supports the Gallick Interest:
142
Must bear the odious Brand of Jacobite,
And next a Papist; half an Eye may see
Two Tallies more exactly can't agree,
Than now a Murm'ring Tongue with Popery.
A Papist to the Common-Weal's a Foe,
By Interest, Nature, and by Doctrine so;
That Common Foe a Villain we may write;
Of that Communion is a JACOBITE.
'Tis time to rouze our Selves, nor longer lie
In the cold Bosom of Indifferency,
While, careless of what Times are comming on,
That Danger seize us which we yet may shun;
For Laughter, Laziness, and Luke-warm Zeal,
Are but weak Mail to keep out Popish Steel.
Who e'er stands Neuter now is doubly base,
Springs from a Traytor's or a Coward's Race,
Thoughtless of Shame and harden'd in Disgrace.
In our Defence half Europe are in Arms,
And all our Enemies have took th'Alarms;
Unanimous as One, then, let us go,
And not be sought but let us seek the Foe:
Our Cause is ripe and Justice is our own;
Freed from our Bondage, let th'Egyptian Groan.
And that to this Great Work we may be gone
The sooner, think Great William leads us on:
Nurs'd up in War ev'n from his tender Years,
As fam'd for Conduct as contempt of Fears;
On that sure Basis he his Glory rears.
A Prince whose Vict'ries we with Wonder view,
And ev'ry Day gives Birth, or Teems with new.
Not a vain Promiser that breaks his Word,
But of a Temper Constant as his Sword;
H'has sav'd two Kingdoms and shall save the Third;
Nor then the Just, the needful War give o'er,
But, that Reduc'd, go on and Conquer more.
France then, perhaps, tho' now her Airy Pride,
Wrapt in the Clouds, her Tyrant's Head do's hide,
May tumble down, and such a Time behold
As Edward and our Henry shew'd of old,
When in that Countries Bowels they did draw
Their Conq'ring Swords, and gave its Members Law.
'Tis done!—I see 'em Fly, and Dye, and Yield,
As then they did at Crescy's Fatal Field.
Our Courage and our Strength are still the same,
And God-like William as Renown'd a Name,
And stands as fair for Everlasting Fame!
In the cold Bosom of Indifferency,
While, careless of what Times are comming on,
That Danger seize us which we yet may shun;
For Laughter, Laziness, and Luke-warm Zeal,
Are but weak Mail to keep out Popish Steel.
Who e'er stands Neuter now is doubly base,
Springs from a Traytor's or a Coward's Race,
Thoughtless of Shame and harden'd in Disgrace.
In our Defence half Europe are in Arms,
And all our Enemies have took th'Alarms;
Unanimous as One, then, let us go,
And not be sought but let us seek the Foe:
Our Cause is ripe and Justice is our own;
Freed from our Bondage, let th'Egyptian Groan.
And that to this Great Work we may be gone
The sooner, think Great William leads us on:
Nurs'd up in War ev'n from his tender Years,
As fam'd for Conduct as contempt of Fears;
On that sure Basis he his Glory rears.
A Prince whose Vict'ries we with Wonder view,
And ev'ry Day gives Birth, or Teems with new.
Not a vain Promiser that breaks his Word,
But of a Temper Constant as his Sword;
H'has sav'd two Kingdoms and shall save the Third;
143
But, that Reduc'd, go on and Conquer more.
France then, perhaps, tho' now her Airy Pride,
Wrapt in the Clouds, her Tyrant's Head do's hide,
May tumble down, and such a Time behold
As Edward and our Henry shew'd of old,
When in that Countries Bowels they did draw
Their Conq'ring Swords, and gave its Members Law.
'Tis done!—I see 'em Fly, and Dye, and Yield,
As then they did at Crescy's Fatal Field.
Our Courage and our Strength are still the same,
And God-like William as Renown'd a Name,
And stands as fair for Everlasting Fame!
| The Works of Mr. Robert Gould | |