 | Poems (1717) |  |
112
ON Mr. DRYDEN's RELIGIO LAICI.
Begon you Slaves, you idle Vermin go,
Fly from the Scourges, and your Master know;
Let free, impartial Men from Dryden learn
Mysterious Secrets of a high Concern,
And weighty Truths, solid convincing Sense,
Explain'd by unaffected Eloquence.
What can you (Reverend Levi) here take ill?
Men still had Faults, and Men will have them still;
He that hath none, and lives as Angels do,
Must be an Angel; but what's that to you?
Fly from the Scourges, and your Master know;
Let free, impartial Men from Dryden learn
Mysterious Secrets of a high Concern,
And weighty Truths, solid convincing Sense,
Explain'd by unaffected Eloquence.
What can you (Reverend Levi) here take ill?
Men still had Faults, and Men will have them still;
He that hath none, and lives as Angels do,
Must be an Angel; but what's that to you?
113
While mighty Lewis finds the Pope too great,
And dreads the Yoke of his imposing Seat,
Our Sects a more Tyrannick Pow'r assume,
And wou'd for Scorpions change the Rods of Rome;
That Church detain'd the Legacy Divine;
Fanaticks cast the Pearls of Heav'n to Swine:
What then have honest thinking Men to do,
But chuse a Mean between th'Usurping two?
And dreads the Yoke of his imposing Seat,
Our Sects a more Tyrannick Pow'r assume,
And wou'd for Scorpions change the Rods of Rome;
That Church detain'd the Legacy Divine;
Fanaticks cast the Pearls of Heav'n to Swine:
What then have honest thinking Men to do,
But chuse a Mean between th'Usurping two?
Nor can th'Ægyptian Patriarch blame my Muse,
Which for his Firmness does his Heat excuse;
Whatever Councils have approv'd his Creed,
The PREFACE sure was his own Act and Deed.
Our Church will have that Preface read (you'll say)
'Tis true, But so she will th'Apocrypha;
And such as can believe them freely may.
Which for his Firmness does his Heat excuse;
Whatever Councils have approv'd his Creed,
The PREFACE sure was his own Act and Deed.
Our Church will have that Preface read (you'll say)
'Tis true, But so she will th'Apocrypha;
And such as can believe them freely may.
114
But did that God (so little understood)
Whose darling Attribute is being good,
From the dark Womb of the rude Chaos bring
Such various Creatures, and make Man their King;
Yet leave his Fav'rite, Man, his chiefest Care,
More wretched than the vilest Insects are?
Whose darling Attribute is being good,
From the dark Womb of the rude Chaos bring
Such various Creatures, and make Man their King;
Yet leave his Fav'rite, Man, his chiefest Care,
More wretched than the vilest Insects are?
O! how much happier and more safe are they?
If helpless Millions must be doom'd a Prey
To Yelling Furies, and for ever burn
In that sad Place from whence is no Return,
For Unbelief in one they never knew,
Or for not doing what they cou'd not do!
The very Fiends know for what Crime they fell,
(And so do all their Followers that Rebell:)
If then, a blind, well-meaning Indian stray,
Shall the great Gulph be show'd him for the Way?
If helpless Millions must be doom'd a Prey
To Yelling Furies, and for ever burn
In that sad Place from whence is no Return,
For Unbelief in one they never knew,
Or for not doing what they cou'd not do!
The very Fiends know for what Crime they fell,
(And so do all their Followers that Rebell:)
If then, a blind, well-meaning Indian stray,
Shall the great Gulph be show'd him for the Way?
115
For better Ends our kind Redeemer dy'd,
Or the fall'n Angels Rooms will be but ill supply'd.
Or the fall'n Angels Rooms will be but ill supply'd.
That Christ, who at the great deciding Day
(For He declares what He resolves to say)
Will Damn the Goats, for their Ill-natur'd Faults,
And save the Sheep, for Actions not for Thoughts,
Hath too much Mercy to send Men to Hell,
For humble Charity, and hoping well.
(For He declares what He resolves to say)
Will Damn the Goats, for their Ill-natur'd Faults,
And save the Sheep, for Actions not for Thoughts,
Hath too much Mercy to send Men to Hell,
For humble Charity, and hoping well.
To what Stupidity are Zealots grown,
Whose Inhumanity profusely shown
In Damning Crowds of Souls, may Damn their own.
I'll err at least on the securer Side,
A Convert free from Malice and from Pride.
Whose Inhumanity profusely shown
In Damning Crowds of Souls, may Damn their own.
I'll err at least on the securer Side,
A Convert free from Malice and from Pride.
| Poems (1717) | |