The Poetical Works of Thomas Chatterton with an essay on the Rowley poems by the Rev. Walter W. Skeat and a memoir by Edward Bell |
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 | The Poetical Works of Thomas Chatterton |  |
APOSTATE WILL.
In days of old, when Wesley's power
Gathered new strength by every hour;
Apostate Will, just sunk in trade,
Resolved his bargain should be made;
Then straight to Wesley he repairs,
And puts on grave and solemn airs;
Then thus the pious man address'd:
“Good sir, I think your doctrine best;
Your servant will a Wesley be,
Therefore the principles teach me.”
The preacher then instructions gave,
How he in this world should behave:
He hears, assents, and gives a nod,
Says every word's the word of God,
Then lifting his dissembling eyes,
“How blessèd is the sect!” he cries;
“Nor Bingham, Young, nor Stillingfleet,
Shall make me from this sect retreat.”
He then his circumstance declared,
How hardly with him matters fared,
Begg'd him next morning for to make
A small collection for his sake.
The preacher said, “Do not repine,
The whole collection shall be thine.”
With looks demure and cringing bows,
About his business straight he goes.
His outward acts were grave and prim,
The Methodist appeared in him.
But, be his outward what it will,
His heart was an apostate's still.
He'd oft profess an hallowed flame,
And every where preached Wesley's name;
He was a preacher, and what not,
As long as money could be got;
He'd oft profess, with holy fire,
“The labourer's worthy of his hire.”
Gathered new strength by every hour;
Apostate Will, just sunk in trade,
Resolved his bargain should be made;
Then straight to Wesley he repairs,
And puts on grave and solemn airs;
8
“Good sir, I think your doctrine best;
Your servant will a Wesley be,
Therefore the principles teach me.”
The preacher then instructions gave,
How he in this world should behave:
He hears, assents, and gives a nod,
Says every word's the word of God,
Then lifting his dissembling eyes,
“How blessèd is the sect!” he cries;
“Nor Bingham, Young, nor Stillingfleet,
Shall make me from this sect retreat.”
He then his circumstance declared,
How hardly with him matters fared,
Begg'd him next morning for to make
A small collection for his sake.
The preacher said, “Do not repine,
The whole collection shall be thine.”
With looks demure and cringing bows,
About his business straight he goes.
His outward acts were grave and prim,
9
But, be his outward what it will,
His heart was an apostate's still.
He'd oft profess an hallowed flame,
And every where preached Wesley's name;
He was a preacher, and what not,
As long as money could be got;
He'd oft profess, with holy fire,
“The labourer's worthy of his hire.”
It happen'd once upon a time,
When all his works were in their prime,
A noble place appeared in view;
Then—to the Methodists, adieu!
A Methodist no more he'll be,
The Protestants serve best for he.
Then to the curate straight he ran,
And thus address'd the reverend man:
“I was a Methodist, 'tis true;
With penitence I turn to you.
O that it were your bounteous will
That I the vacant place might fill!
With justice I'd myself acquit,
Do every thing that's right and fit.”
The curate straightway gave consent—
To take the place he quickly went.
Accordingly he took the place,
And keeps it with dissembled grace.
When all his works were in their prime,
A noble place appeared in view;
Then—to the Methodists, adieu!
A Methodist no more he'll be,
The Protestants serve best for he.
Then to the curate straight he ran,
And thus address'd the reverend man:
“I was a Methodist, 'tis true;
With penitence I turn to you.
O that it were your bounteous will
That I the vacant place might fill!
With justice I'd myself acquit,
Do every thing that's right and fit.”
The curate straightway gave consent—
To take the place he quickly went.
Accordingly he took the place,
And keeps it with dissembled grace.
April 14th, 1764.
| The Poetical Works of Thomas Chatterton | |