University of Virginia Library

POETICA LICENTIA.

A Gratulatory POEM UPON His Majesties Gracious Declaration FOR LIBERTY of CONSCIENCE.

With a Friendly Debate betwixt CON and NON.

So Great! so Universal, and so Free!
This was too much (Great CHARLES) except for Thee,
For any King to grant, or Subjects hope:
Like Thee to do thus, would undo the Pope.
Yea, though his Vassals should their Wealth combine
To buy Indulgence half so large as Thine:
No, if they should not only kiss his Toe,
But Clement Podex, He'd not let them goe.
Whilst Thou to His Shame, Thy immortal Glory,
Hast freed All Souls from real Purgatory;
And giv'n All Saints in Heav'n new joys, to see
Their Friends in England keep a Jubilee.
Suspect us not (Great Sir) nor think the worst;
For sudden Joys, like Griefs, confound at first:
The splendour of Your Favour was so bright,
That yet it dazzles and o'rewhelms our sight.
Drunk with Your Cup, my Muse did nothing mind;
And until now her feet she could not find:
Greediness makes prophane: In the first place
Hungry-men fill their belly, then say Grace.
We would make Bonfires (SIR) but that we fear
Name of Incendiaries we may hear.
We would have Musick too, but 'twill not do,
For All the Fidlers are Conformists too.
Nor can we Ring, the angry Church-man swears,
By the King's leave, the Bells and Ropes are Theirs:
And let them take them. Yet our Tongues shall sing
Your Honour louder than their Clappers ring.
But now they tole their Bells, and wring their hands,
Religion (that is to say, their Lands)
The Protestant Religion now will fall;
Bell and the Dragon will devour us all.
The Children of the Church are frighted: oh!
The POPE's Raw-head-and-bloody-bones cry Boh
Behind the door! a License without stint;
This bitter Cup hath Roman Wormwood in't.
O tender zealous hearts! O sad Condition!
Idolatry will eat up Superstition.
The Calf at Bethel fears the Calf at Dan;
The Gridiron grumbles at the Frying-pan.
And now the Jacks have lost their wonted prey,
They fear the Pikes will carry them away,
So Conjurers grow (toward their end) in fear,
That their familiar Devils will them tear.
Thus Melancholy Puss mews, and takes on.
When Mouse (with which she play'd before) is gone.
But Oh ye Champions bring forth and shew
The foreskins of those Philistines you slew
When in your power; then they favour found;
And now you cry, Tiber the Thames will drown'd.
But fear not (Gentlemen) if Pop'ry be,
You'l find the Nuns are pretty Company.
And if the fiery trial should return,
Most of you wet your selves too much to burn.
Raw men you were, raw still you are, and I
So scarce believe you'l carbonado'd die.
But let's joyn issue, and go fairly to't,
And to a Kings-Bench-Trial put the Suit.
The Plaintiff CON: NON-CON Defendant place,
This Liberty of Conscience makes the Case.
Whither indulging Protestants to teach
Freely, and publickly the Gospel preach.
“The Prince a Protestant, approved so
“By Oath, by Law, by practise, (not in show)
“With Premunire, but to mutter No.
“But yet exempting Papists from the awe.
“(If there were any) of the Penal Law,
“Allowing them no publick place at all
“Beyond the limits of their private wall.
“Whither this be a Trojan-Mare with Fole
“Of Pop'ry, by a leap from Rome she stole.
In this case Con is Pro, and Non is Con;
And now God save the King, and let's fall on.
CON.

NON.
The Papists swelling is the way to burst,
Let them have Rope enough, and do their worst.
And for the Popes Supremacy, Alack!
'Tis but the Bunch upon the Camels back.
The Lions skin can't hide the Asse's Luggs,
We stamp Pope's faces on our bearded Juggs;
And make no more confuting Bellarmine,
Then taking off the lusty Ale or Wine.
Popes were Kings Chiplins first, their Chaplains next;
Choplains at last (by virtue of no Text).
To Chop and Change, Chop Logick, Chop off Heads,
They became Joves, and Kings their Ganimeds.
Thus Peter's Successors like Him deni'd
Their Master, but like Him they never cri'd:
I wish them like Him Head-long crucifi'd.

CON.
But oh their Pictures, Agnus Dei's, Pixes,
Their lovely Images, and Crucifixes;
Their charming-Musick! These are Arts that will
Delight the Senses, and by Tickling kill.

NON.
Our King can Heal, by Stroaking, a Disease:
A May-pole and a Fiddle some will please.
Fools must have Baubles, Solomon of old
To some gave Apes and Peacocks, others Gold.
We all know Popes-head-Alley trades in Toyes;
Our Merchants come not thither, but our Boys.
Our Children with as pretty Babies play,
(And make them too) as those to which they pray.
And at a shaved Crown dare fling their Jears,
Go up thou Bald-head, yet not fear the Bears.

CON.
Yea, but their learned men will write Ding-dong.
And scatter all their Books about e're long.

NON.
Fear not their Learning; for their Priests I'le swear
As arrant Blockheads as your Curates are.
One Stilling fleet, one Tillotson of yours;
One Baxter, Owen, and one Pool of ours,
Can drive their Books and Authors out of door,
And you and we have many hundreds more.
Let them write Books each day, their Wares are stale,
And will not sell, and thereby hangs a Tale:
The other day into a place I went,
Where Mortals use to go, that want a vent;
There by the mouth of Purgatory Hole,
Where many groan, and their hard case condole.
Saul Cressy's sacred Legend I did find,
One leaf whereof gave ease by breaking wind,
And wip't Aspersions from Rome behind,
Rare Man (cry'd I) worthy to be no less
Than Groom o'th' stool unto his Holiness.

CON.
Oh, but their Jesuits are dangerous men.

NON.

CON.
Yea, that's the Mischief which we fear indeed,
That if we do not work, we shall not feed:
'Twill break our Hearts to Preach! and you'l combine
Our Maintenance to share, or undermine.

NON.

CON.
Oh, but the French with th' English join their Bands
To fight against Reformed Netherlands:
And when those Papists once the Day have got,
We fear poor Protestants will pay the Shot.

NON.
Now, O the Logick of your Learned Clerks!
Piggs play o'th' Organs; Ergo, Cerberus barks:
If the Skie fall, down-comes the price of Larks.
Our Gallants wear some points fetch't out of France:
Ergo, their Errors too we must advance.
The Nonconforming Calvinists grow strong;
Ergo, We shall be Papists all ere long.
Last Warrs the French with Dutch combined were
Against the English; Where was then this fear?
We have with Holland fought, and fought again,
And yet the Articles of Dort maintain.

CON.
But oh, the Grandees now about the King,
They, they procured this Licentious Thing.
Some men there be that carry all before 'em;
The Duke of Lauderdale is of the Quorum;
And George of Buckingham is Dux Malorum.

NON.

POSTSCRIPT.

No, not one word, can I of this Great Deed,
In Merlin, or old Mother Shipton read!
Old Tyburn take those Tycho Brahe Imps,
Astrologers who would be 'counted Pimps
To the Amorous Planets; they the minute know
When Jove did Cuckold poor Amphytrio.
Ken Mars, and Madam Venus winks and glances,
Their close Conjunctions, and their mid-night Dances;
When costive Saturn goes to Stool, and vile
Thief Mercury doth pick his Fob the while;
When Lady Luna leaks, and makes her man
Throw't out o'th Window into th' Ocean.
More subtle than the Excise-men here below,
What's spent in every Sign in Heaven they know.
Cunning Intelligencers! they'l not miss
To tell us next year the success of this;
They correspend with Dutch and English Star,
As Dow—did with CHARLES and Oliver.
The Bankers might have, had they to them gone,
What Planet governed the Exchequer, known.
Old Lilly though he did not love to make
Any words of it, saw Sir Robert take
Fiue of the Smyrna Fleet, and if the Sign
Had been Aquares, he had made them Nine.
When Sagitary took his aim to shoot
At Bishop Cosin, he espy'd him do't;
And with such force the winged-Arrow flew,
Instead of one Church-Stag, he killed two;
Glocester and Durham whom he espy'd,
Let Lean and Fat together go he cry'd.
Well Willy Lilly, thou knew'st this as well
As I, and yet wouldst not their Lordships tell.
I know thy Plea too, and must it allow,
PRELATES should know as much of Heaven as thou:
But now Friend William, since 'tis done and past,
Pray thee, give us Phanaticks but one Cast,
What thou foresaw'st of March the Fifteenth Last;
When swift and sudden as the Angels flye,
The Declaration came for Liberty;
When things of Heaven burst from the Royal Breast,
More fragrant than the Spices of the East.
I know in next years Almanack thou'lt write,
Thou saw'st the King in Council over-night,
Before that morn, all sit in Heaven as plain
To be discern'd, as if 'twere Charles Waine,
Great C, A, B, A, and great L were chief
Under C. R. to give poor Fan's relief.
Thou sawest Lord Arlington ordain the man
To be the first Lay-Metropolitan.
Thou saw'st him give induction to a Spittle,
And Institute our Brother TOM-DOE-LITTLE.
In the Bears Paw, and Bulls right Eye,
Some Detriment to Priests thou did'st espye;
And though by Sol in Libra thou didst know
Which way the Scale of Policy would go;
Yet Mercury in Aries did decree,
That Wool and Lamb should still Conformists be.
But hark-you Will, Star-poching is not fair;
Had you amongst the Stars found this March-Hare,
Bred of that lusty Puss the Good old Cause,
Religion rescued from Inforcing Laws;
You should have yelpt aloud, hanging's the end,
By Huntsmen's Rule, of Hounds that will not spend.
Be gone thou and thy canting-Tribe, be gone;
Go tell thy destiny to Fools, or none:
Kings Hearts and Councils are too deep for thee,
And for thy Stars and Dœmons scrutinie,
King CHARLES Return was much above thy skill
To fumble out, as 'twas against thy will.
From him who can the Hearts of Kings inspire,
Not from the Planets, came that Sacred Fire
Of Soveraign Love, which burst into a Flame;
From God and from the King alone it came,