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The PLAGIARY.
Upon S. C. a Presbyterian Minister, and Captain, stealing 48 Lines from Crashaw's Poems to patch up an Elegy for Mr. F. P.
1658.
Monstrous! and Strange! & scarcely heard of yet!
A Presbyterian, and pretend to wit!
Steel'd arrogance! to nibble at the crime
Of Verse, and meddle with that Dagon-Rhyme!
Tremble, great Dogril Sir, at what I say;
For Verse is Cousin German to a Play.
But Poets may with Church-men well agree:
David did Verses make, and Prophecie.
This is his canting Plea; but soft, Sir, stand;
You are arraign'd for Theft, hold up your hand.
Impudent Theft, as ever was exprest,
Not to steal Jewels only, but the Chest.
Not to nib bits of Gold from Crashaw's Lines,
But swoop whole Strikes together from his Mynes!
Unconscionable thief! than Hind far worse;
To rob one both of Money and of Purse.
Thou, of thy Brethren-Taxers, get'st the start,
In taking more than th' five and twentieth part:
Like to those Fiends we Sequestrators call,
Thy stretching Conscience goes away with all.
30
To take both Goods and House too on thy back;
Quote Scripture for't, as for Rebellion, say,
Sampson in Gaza took the Gates away.
Thy Muse, Philira like, is turn'd a Mare;
And by his Pegasus is cover'd here.
Unnat'ral Coupling this as e're did pass;
As if his Pegasus should leap an Ass!
Like a Drum-major, he with Zeal appears,
Beating his Pulpit to get Volunteers.
Thy Black-coat, furious Jehu, most men think
Takes colour from thy Powder, not thine Ink;
And thy Dragooning Genius has a share
More in Salt-peter than Saint Peter's Chair.
How much the Cause owes to this Braves command,
Who taught Rebellion both with Tongue and Hand;
As Balaam of his Ass, he learnt this Trick
Of some such Colt, both for to whee and kick.
A Preacher! Captain, Thief, and Poet view!
A Jack of all Trades, and of all Sides too.
But Mar-text, how dost thou declare thine hate,
In joyning Poets with the Bishops Fate?
To rail at Poets, but to steal their strains,
To hate the Bishops, but to love their means.
Did parted Souls (as some have held) but know
Those things are done by their left friends below;
Think'st thou deceased Pierpont likes such Verse
As thou hast filch'd here to adorn his Herse?
Judge but how such an Act thy self would scan,
A Thief subscribe thee for an Honest Man.
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