A pastoral dialogue a poem.
         Tate, Nahum, 1652-1715.
      
       
         
           1690
        
      
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             A pastoral dialogue a poem.
             Tate, Nahum, 1652-1715.
          
           [4], 27 p.
           
             Printed for Richard Baldwin,
             London :
             1690.
          
           
             Attributed to N. Tate--NUC pre-1956 imprints.
             A later edition is entitled A poem occasioned by the late discontents and disturbances in the state.
             Reproduction of original in the Harvard University Library.
          
        
      
    
     
       
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           A
           Pastoral
           Dialogue
           .
        
         
           A
           POEM
           .
        
         
           
             —
             —
             Liberius
             si
          
           
             Dixero
             quid
             ,
             si
             forte
             Jocosius
             ,
             Hoc
             mihi
             juris
          
           
             Cum
             Veniâ
             dabis
             .
          
           
             Hor.
             
          
        
         
           
             Vincit
             Amor
             Patriae
             .
          
           
             Virg.
             
          
        
         
         
           LONDON
           :
           Printed
           for
           
             Richard
             Baldwin
          
           ,
           near
           the
           Oxford-Arms
           in
           Warwick-Lane
           .
           MDCXC
           .
        
      
       
         
         
           
           PREFACE
           .
        
         
           I
           Could
           heartily
           have
           wish'd
           there
           had
           been
           no
           Occasion
           offer'd
           ,
           or
           Subject-matter
           for
           an
           Essay
           of
           this
           kind
           .
           After
           so
           happy
           and
           wonderful
           a
           Revolution
           as
           we
           have
           seen
           ,
           when
           our
           Hopes
           were
           grown
           desperate
           ,
           and
           our
           Liberty
           reduc'd
           to
           its
           very
           last
           gasp
           ,
           to
           have
           the
           only
           Remedy
           in
           Nature
           so
           effectually
           apply'd
           ,
           so
           miraculous
           a
           Recovery
           perform'd
           ;
           after
           all
           this
           ,
           to
           find
           English-men
           ,
           and
           such
           as
           pretend
           to
           no
           other
           Interest
           or
           Religion
           but
           That
           of
           their
           Country
           ;
           to
           findThem
           expressing
           Dissatisfaction
           ,
           every-where
           busie
           in
           sowing
           Dissention
           ,
           obstructing
           ,
           as
           far
           as
           in
           them
           lies
           ,
           the
           Progress
           of
           Affairs
           ,
           and
           unhinging
           the
           present
           Settlement
           (
           upon
           which
           alone
           depends
           the
           Safety
           of
           these
           Nations
           ,
           and
           common
           Quiet
           of
           Europe
           )
           ;
           This
           is
           so
           just
           a
           Cause
           of
           Indignation
           ,
           as
           must
           make
           every
           Lover
           of
           his
           Countrey
           to
           turn
           Satyrist
           ,
           or
           ,
           at
           least
           ,
           excuse
           the
           honest
           Zeal
           of
           such
           as
           upon
           this
           Occasion
           express
           their
           Resentments
           .
           To
           be
           unconcern'd
           for
           a
           Man's
           Country
           ,
           is
           theworstwant
           of
           natural
           Affection
           :
           A
           Crime
           reputed
           so
           heinous
           amongst
           the
           more
           generous
           Heathens
           ,
           that
           it
           divested
           the
           indulgent
           Brutus
           of
           all
           Compassion
           on
           his
           Sons
           ,
           whom
           he
           submitted
           to
           the
           extremity
           of
           Punishment
           ,
           for
           making
           Commotions
           in
           the
           new
           Settlement
           of
           the
           Roman
           Liberty
           .
        
         
           
             —
             Gnatosque
             Pater
             nova
             Bella
             moventes
          
           
             In
             Paenam
             dulci
             pro
             Libertate
             vocabit
             .
          
        
         
         
           In
           tracing
           the
           Occasions
           of
           the
           late
           Disturbances
           and
           Discontents
           of
           the
           State
           ,
           I
           was
           unwillingly
           brought
           within
           the
           Verge
           of
           the
           Church
           .
           There
           is
           no
           Man
           that
           has
           a
           greater
           Veneration
           for
           the
           Sacred
           Function
           and
           Order
           ,
           or
           the
           Discipline
           and
           Worship
           by
           Law
           establish'd
           ;
           neither
           does
           the
           
             Passive
             Principle
          
           it self
           ,
           that
           has
           so
           nearly
           endanger'd
           the
           Shipwreck
           both
           of
           State
           and
           Church
           ,
           derive
           its
           source
           from
           the
           pure
           Fountain
           of
           our
           Reformation
           :
           'T
           was
           a
           new-sprouted
           Tail
           of
           the
           Dragon
           ,
           that
           swept
           many
           of
           our
           Stars
           ,
           tho
           but
           few
           of
           the
           First
           Magnitude
           ;
           most
           whereof
           recover'd
           themselves
           as
           soon
           as
           they
           were
           sensible
           of
           the
           Consequence
           ,
        
         
           *
           For
           my
           own
           part
           (
           
             says
             one
          
           )
           I
           am
           so
           little
           asham'd
           of
           altering
           my
           Opinion
           in
           this
           matter
           ,
           that
           I
           think
           I
           have
           nothing
           to
           blush
           for
           ,
           but
           that
           I
           no
           sooner
           discover'd
           my
           Error
           ,
           and
           the
           ungrateful
           and
           odious
           use
           that
           was
           design'd
           to
           be
           made
           of
           it
           .
           
             The
             Number
             is
             but
             small
             of
             such
             as
             still
             adhere
             to
             the
             Prejudice
             of
             their
             Education
             under
             a
             Government
             ,
             whose
             bufiness
             it
             was
             to
             debauch
             our
             Principles
             ,
             and
             dispose
             us
             for
             the
             Slavery
             that
             was
             to
             be
             brought
             upon
             us
             .
          
        
         
           
             What
             I
             have
             touch'd
             concerning
             Penal
             Impositions
             on
             Conscience
             ,
             and
             the
          
           Nicene
           
             Assembly
             ,
             (
             amongst
             whom
             were
             many
             Persons
             that
             preserv'd
             the
             Primitive
             Character
             )
             ,
             I
             must
             for
             the
             Consequence
             refer
             you
             to
             the
             Testimony
             of
             Church-Historians
             ;
             inftancing
             only
             one
             Passage
             in
             St.
          
           Hilary
           ,
           
             who
             gives
             us
             this
             Account
          
           :
           Conscii
           sumus
           quod
           post
           Nicaenam
           Synodum
           nihil
           aliud
           quam
           Fidem
           scribimus
           ,
           dum
           in
           Verbis
           pugna
           est
           ,
           dum
           de
           novitatibus
           quaestio
           est
           ,
           dum
           de
           Ambiguis
           Occasio
           est
           ,
           dum
           de
           Authoribus
           querela
           est
           ,
           dum
           de
           studiis
           certamen
           est
           ,
           dum
           in
           Consensu
           difficultas
           est
           ,
           dum
           Alter
           Alteri
           Anathema
           esse
           
           caepit
           prope
           jam
           nemo
           Christi
           est
           ,
           &c.
           
           Tandem
           eo
           processum
           est
           ut
           neque
           penes
           nos
           ,
           neque
           penes
           quenquam
           ,
           ante
           nos
           Sanctum
           exinde
           aliquid
           perseveret
           ;
           annuas
           atque
           menstruas
           de
           Deo
           fides
           decernimus
           ,
           decretis
           paenitemus
           ,
           paenitentes
           defendimus
           ,
           defensos
           Anathematizamus
           ,
           aut
           in
           nostris
           aliena
           ,
           aut
           aliena
           in
           nostris
           damnamus
           ,
           &
           mordentes
           invicem
           ,
           jam
           absumpti
           sumus
           ab
           invicem
           .
        
         
           
             I
             cannot
             bètter
             make
             my
             Apology
             ,
             than
             in
             the
             words
             of
             a
             late
             Writer
             upon
             this
             Occasion
             ,
             who
             says
             ,
          
           It
           is
           not
           their
           declaring
           their
           Opinion
           (
           wherein
           they
           seem
           to
           me
           to
           have
           light
           upon
           the
           Truth
           ,
           if
           they
           had
           likewise
           upon
           the
           Measure
           )
           that
           could
           have
           moved
           me
           to
           speak
           with
           this
           liberty
           ,
           but
           their
           imposing
           what
           was
           not
           contain'd
           in
           express
           words
           of
           Scripture
           ,
           under
           Spiritual
           and
           Civil
           Penalties
           ,
           contrary
           to
           the
           Privilege
           of
           Religion
           ,
           and
           making
           a
           Precedent
           ,
           follow'd
           and
           improv'd
           by
           all
           succeeding
           Ages
           ,
           for
           most
           Cruel
           Perfecutions
           .
        
         
           There
           is
           no
           Person
           so
           obscure
           or
           inconfiderable
           ,
           but
           might
           have
           observed
           our
           most
           zealous
           Protestants
           ,
           both
           Church-men
           and
           Dissenters
           ,
           to
           have
           been
           all
           along
           Properties
           to
           the
           Common
           Enemy
           ;
           so
           visible
           have
           been
           the
           Triumphs
           and
           Insultings
           of
           Roman
           Emissaries
           upon
           the
           Animosities
           they
           have
           sown
           amongst
           us
           ,
           and
           of
           which
           they
           reckon'd
           shortly
           to
           reap
           the
           Harvest
           .
        
         
           The
           Unreasonableness
           (
           that
           is
           to
           say
           ,
           the
           Impossibility
           )
           of
           Force
           in
           matters
           of
           meer
           Conscience
           and
           Opinion
           ,
           has
           demonstrated
           it self
           through
           all
           Ages
           .
           Our
           Dissenters
           have
           had
           their
           Faults
           ,
           and
           they
           have
           suffer'd
           :
           Neither
           is
           it
           the
           least
           Blessing
           amongst
           those
           Great
           and
           Many
           that
           seem
           to
           be
           reserv'd
           for
           His
           
           present
           Majesty's
           Reign
           ,
           That
           we
           do
           not
           yet
           despair
           of
           a
           Comprehension
           .
           His
           Majesty
           has
           ,
           with
           more
           than
           
           Constantine's
           Piety
           ,
           signaliz'd
           His
           Royal
           Inclination
           ;
           the
           ablest
           of
           our
           Spiritual
           Guides
           are
           zealous
           Endeavourers
           for
           it
           :
           and
           That
           (
           amongst
           other
           weighty
           Reasons
           )
           for
           the
           True
           Interest
           and
           Inviolable
           Security
           of
           the
           
             Church
             Establish'd
          
           :
           Which
           ,
           as
           it
           influences
           the
           Publick
           Happiness
           ,
           it
           is
           the
           Duty
           of
           ev'n
           the
           meanest
           Lay-man
           to
           be
           sollicitous
           for
           it
           .
           And
           this
           Privilege
           ,
           at
           least
           ,
           I
           may
           plead
           for
           what
           I
           have
           said
           ;
        
         
           
             For
             common
             quiet
             is
             Mankinds
             Concern
             .
             
               Relig.
               Lai
            
             .
          
        
         
           Now
           as
           to
           your
           Censure
           of
           this
           Essay
           as
           a
           Poem
           ,
           I
           have
           that
           Indifference
           which
           is
           necessary
           for
           an
           
             ill
             Writer
          
           .
           If
           it
           have
           the
           least
           degree
           of
           Art
           or
           Beauty
           ,
           the
           Judicious
           will
           not
           miss
           of
           it
           :
           Otherwise
           ,
           I
           have
           seldom
           known
           a
           Reader
           barangu'd
           into
           a
           favourable
           Opinion
           against
           his
           Conscience
           .
           The
           Nature
           of
           the
           Dialogue
           oblig'd
           me
           for
           the
           most
           part
           to
           Expressions
           that
           were
           familiar
           ,
           and
           
             Sermoni
             propiora
          
           .
           You
           will
           find
           it
           but
           praeliminary
           to
           a
           more
           agreeable
           Subject
           ,
           if
           any
           Pitch
           of
           Zeal
           can
           warrant
           so
           mean
           a
           Talent
           in
           the
           Faculty
           as
           Mine
           ,
           for
           the
           Undertaking
           .
        
      
    
     
       
         
         
           A
           Pastoral
           Dialogue
           .
           A
           POEM
           .
        
         
           
             NEar
             Isis
             Spring
             ,
             the
             Muses
             poor
             Retreat
             ,
          
           
             Palaemon
             dwelt
             in
             his
             unenvied
             Seat
             ;
          
           
             Whose
             little
             ,
             but
             Hereditary
             Soil
             ,
          
           
             Answer'd
             his
             mod'rate
             Hopes
             ,
             if
             not
             his
             Toil
             ,
          
           
             For
             Nature's
             Wants
             did
             modestly
             provide
             ,
          
           
             Content
             and
             Innocence
             the
             Rest
             supply'd
             .
          
           
             His
             Years
             declin'd
             ,
             his
             Thoughts
             their
             Manly
             Fire
          
           
             Preserv'd
             ,
             advancing
             as
             his
             Days
             retire
             .
          
           
             None
             better
             knew
             or
             practis'd
             in
             his
             Cell
          
           
             The
             chast
             Delights
             that
             in
             Retirement
             dwell
             ,
          
           
             That
             scorn
             the
             Golden
             Mansions
             of
             the
             Proud
             ,
          
           
             And
             fly
             the
             Haunts
             of
             the
             unhallow'd
             Crowd
             ;
          
           
             Betimes
             he
             shunn'd
             the
             beaten
             Roads
             of
             Strife
             ,
          
           
             And
             found
             the
             secret
             Track
             to
             peaceful
             Life
             .
          
           
           
             Too
             blest
             ,
             if
             while
             his
             private
             Cares
             did
             cease
          
           
             No
             Fears
             had
             seiz'd
             him
             for
             his
             Countrey
             's
             Peace
             ;
          
           
             So
             strong
             the
             Guard
             of
             Vertues
             which
             he
             chose
             ,
          
           
             Fate
             had
             no
             other
             way
             to
             his
             Repose
             .
          
           
             Religion
             He
             ,
             and
             Loyalty
             ,
             held
             dear
             ;
          
           
             Bigot
             in
             neither
             ,
             tho
             in
             both
             Sincere
             ,
          
           
             In
             ev'ry
             Course
             by
             Truth
             and
             Sense
             did
             steer
             :
          
           
             Did
             gen'rously
             his
             Rules
             for
             Practice
             draw
          
           
             From
             Sacred
             Writ
             ,
             and
             uncorrupted
             Law.
          
           
             Of
             Church
             and
             Court
             th'
             Encroachments
             did
             survey
             ;
          
           
             In
             Priests
             and
             States-men
             found
             the
             same
             foul
             play
             ;
          
           
             Both
             Functions
             saw
             alike
             by
             Int'rest
             sway'd
             ,
          
           
             Both
             grown
             a
             Cheat
             ,
             for
             both
             were
             grown
             a
             Trade
             .
          
        
         
           
             Philander
             ,
             whom
             the
             Muses
             Charms
             had
             mov'd
             ,
          
           
             By
             learn'd
             
             Palaemon's
             Rules
             his
             Vein
             improv'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             next
             the
             Muses
             his
             Palaemon
             lov'd
             .
          
           
             His
             awful
             Steps
             with
             rev'rend
             distance
             trac'd
             ,
          
           
             Silence
             and
             sacred
             Poverty
             embrac'd
             .
          
           
             His
             sole
             Ambition
             to
             compose
             some
             Lay
          
           
             That
             might
             to
             Britain's
             Pollio
             force
             its
             way
             ,
          
           
             From
             his
             sharp-judging
             Patron
             gain
             a
             Smile
             ,
          
           
             And
             of
             an
             Hour
             the
             waiting
             State
             beguile
             .
          
           
             In
             this
             alone
             he
             wrong'd
             the
             Publick-Weal
             ,
          
           
             For
             which
             no
             Swain
             confest
             a
             warmer
             Zeal
             .
          
        
         
           
             Opprest
             with
             Thought
             ,
             one
             Ev'ning
             he
             repairs
          
           
             With
             his
             Palaemon
             to
             concert
             his
             Cares
             :
          
           
           
             Just
             then
             returning
             from
             his
             Ev'ning's
             Round
          
           
             (
             His
             Farm's
             short
             Bounds
             )
             the
             good
             old
             Swain
             he
             found
             ,
          
           
             Who
             in
             his
             Arms
             brought
             Home
             a
             New-ean'd
             Lamb
             ,
          
           
             A
             Firstling
             ,
             but
             forsaken
             by
             its
             Dam.
          
           
             The
             Youth
             with
             that
             unkindly
             Omen
             struck
             ,
          
           
             To
             vent
             his
             pensive
             Thoughts
             occasion
             took
             ,
          
           
             and
             thus
             began
             —
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             —
             —
             The
             same
             Disorder
             reigns
          
           
             Amongst
             our
             Flocks
             that
             has
             possest
             our
             Swains
             ,
          
           
             Perversly
             both
             to
             their
             own
             Hopes
             unkind
             ,
          
           
             Expose
             their
             tender
             Comforts
             to
             the
             Wind
             :
          
           
             But
             lately
             't
             was
             that
             ev'ry
             Shepherd
             Sung
             ,
          
           
             While
             with
             the
             gen'ral
             Glee
             the
             Valleys
             rung
             ,
          
           
             As
             Nature
             had
             renew'd
             ,
             and
             fresh
             Creation
             sprung
             ;
          
           
             Each
             Muse
             to
             the
             Restorer
             tun'd
             her
             Lyre
             ,
          
           
             Their
             only
             and
             almost
             despair'd
             Desire
             .
          
           
             They
             sung
             ,
             How
             in
             his
             Belgick-Seat
             he
             lay
             ,
          
           
             Silent
             as
             Night
             ,
             but
             watchful
             as
             the
             Day
             ;
          
           
             His
             sure
             ,
             but
             secret
             Councils
             did
             advance
          
           
             To
             check
             the
             Progress
             of
             encroaching
             France
             ,
          
           
             While
             Belgia
             did
             the
             Tyrants
             summons
             wait
             ,
          
           
             And
             Britain
             from
             the
             Continent
             disjoin'd
             ,
          
           
             No
             Safety
             in
             her
             Seas
             embrace
             could
             find
             ,
          
           
             Not
             Britain
             knew
             to
             shun
             the
             common
             Fate
             .
          
           
             To
             Bondage
             sold
             ,
             despairing
             to
             be
             freed
          
           
             The
             servile
             Contract
             her
             own
             Act
             and
             Deed.
          
           
           
             Her
             Roman
             Masters
             at
             their
             Conquest
             smile
             ,
          
           
             Secure
             in
             Hopes
             ,
             they
             cantle
             out
             the
             Isle
             .
          
           
             Palaemon
             ,
             you
             must
             needs
             remember
             well
          
           
             That
             ruthful
             Season
             which
             you
             could
             foretel
             ,
          
           
             To
             Unbelievers
             preacht
             ,
             who
             mourn'd
             too
             late
          
           
             Their
             Trojan
             Fathers
             Folly
             ,
             and
             their
             Fate
             .
          
           
             If
             just
             Disdain
             will
             suffer
             ,
             call
             to
             mind
          
           
             How
             in
             that
             pensive
             Time
          
           
             Our
             Swains
             at
             their
             own
             handy-work
             repin'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             curs'd
             their
             Tillage
             to
             new
             Lords
             assign'd
             ;
          
           
             Wish'd
             Blight
             and
             Mildews
             on
             their
             gen'rous
             Soil
             ,
          
           
             E're
             Lubber-Priests
             shou'd
             batten
             on
             the
             Spoil
             ,
          
           
             And
             Consecrated
             Sloth
             devour
             their
             Toil.
          
           
             By
             Husbandmen
             of
             yore
             forwarn'd
             the
             Harm
             ;
          
           
             No
             Caterpillars
             like
             a
             sacred
             Swarm
             .
          
           
             The
             vile
             Remembrance
             we
             can
             scarce
             support
             ,
          
           
             How
             Vermin
             to
             our
             Palace
             did
             resort
             ,
          
           
             And
             Nations
             purg'd
             their
             Scum
             into
             our
             Court.
          
           
             The
             Rogue
             was
             qualify'd
             for
             Magistrate
             ,
          
           
             Tribunals
             then
             were
             Shambles
             of
             the
             State.
          
           
             We
             suffer'd
             much
             ,
             and
             Fear
             suggested
             more
             ,
          
           
             Till
             Ruine
             should
             o'rewhelm
             our
             fenceless
             Shore
             ,
          
           
             We
             heard
             the
             near
             advancing
             Billows
             Roar.
          
           
             With
             ev'ry
             Gust
             th'
             impetuous
             Tide
             came
             on
             ,
          
           
             Our
             Sluces
             open'd
             ,
             and
             our
             Moundings
             gone
             ,
          
           
             When
             Tyranny
             with
             Sword
             high-brandish'd
             stood
             ,
          
           
             And
             Zeal
             ,
             the
             worst
             of
             Fiends
             ,
             for
             
               soeming
            
             good
             ,
          
           
           
             The
             Monster
             now
             confest
             with
             darted
             Claws
             ,
          
           
             And
             lick'd
             for
             Thirst
             of
             Blood
             her
             frothy
             Jaws
             .
          
           
             'T
             was
             then
             
             Fame's
             Voice
             did
             first
             our
             Coasts
             surprize
             ,
          
           
             (
             A
             Voice
             like
             that
             shall
             bid
             the
             Dead
             to
             rise
             )
          
           
             That
             brave
             NASSAW
             approach'd
             to
             our
             Relief
             :
          
           
             With
             Joy
             as
             Speechless
             as
             our
             former
             Grief
          
           
             The
             Tidings
             we
             receiv'd
             ,
             with
             early
             Eyes
             ,
          
           
             Preventing
             Day
             ,
             we
             watch'd
             the
             Eastern
             Skies
             :
          
           
             At
             last
             the
             Hero
             came
             ,
             the
             long
             expected
             Guest
             ,
          
           
             As
             from
             a
             present
             Deity
          
           
             The
             conscious
             Monsters
             fly
             ,
          
           
             The
             Specters
             vanish'd
             ,
             and
             the
             Land
             had
             Rest.
             
          
        
         
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             Unparallel'd
             in
             Story
             was
             the
             Change
             !
          
           
             But
             nothing
             ,
             where
             such
             Vertue
             works
             ,
             is
             strange
             .
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             Then
             tell
             me
             ,
             good
             Palaemon
             ,
             whence
             this
             Cloud
          
           
             Of
             Discontent
             ,
             that
             do's
             our
             Morning
             shroud
             ?
          
           
             Can
             we
             so
             soon
             grow
             sick
             of
             Happiness
             ,
          
           
             So
             soon
             suspect
             the
             Blessings
             we
             possess
             ?
          
           
             The
             Reasons
             of
             this
             stupid
             Change
             relate
             ,
          
           
             Our
             Fault
             or
             Lott
             ,
             our
             Folly
             or
             our
             Fate
             .
          
        
         
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             Too
             soon
             we
             slept
             ,
             and
             let
             the
             watchful
             Foe
             ,
          
           
             Before
             our
             Wheat
             was
             sprung
             ,
             his
             Darnel
             sow
             .
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             A
             disappointed
             Foe
             you
             cannot
             blame
             ,
          
           
             At
             once
             by
             Int'rest
             urg'd
             Revenge
             and
             Shame
             .
          
           
             Think
             not
             a
             losing
             Gamester
             will
             be
             fair
             ,
          
           
             Who
             at
             his
             Best
             ne're
             play'd
             upon
             the
             Square
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             
             Rome's
             Frauds
             are
             now
             of
             such
             an
             ancient
             Date
             ,
          
           
             The
             Harlot
             pleads
             her
             Priviledg
             to
             cheat
             .
          
           
             Her
             holy
             Panders
             too
             you
             must
             forgive
             ,
          
           
             Who
             keep
             her
             Trading
             up
             ,
             by
             which
             they
             live
             .
          
           
             The
             Ghostly
             Pimps
             must
             starve
             ,
             or
             else
             combine
          
           
             For
             her
             Support
             ,
             the
             State
             to
             undermine
             .
          
           
             Necessity
             sways
             Here
             with
             some
             Pretence
             ,
          
           
             To
             
               Right
               Divine
            
             —
             at
             least
             to
             common
             Sense
             :
          
           
             But
             who
             that
             unintelligible
             Wight
          
           
             Can
             e're
             decipher
             ,
             call'd
             a
             JACOBITE
             ?
          
           
             (
             The
             Appellation
             he
             with
             Pride
             do's
             claim
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             will
             I
             grutch
             him
             the
             Auspicious
             Name
             )
          
           
             How
             shall
             we
             him
             define
             ,
             who
             ne're
             could
             find
          
           
             The
             Sentiments
             of
             his
             own
             Wayward
             Mind
             ?
          
           
             Foe
             to
             his
             Own
             ,
             and
             to
             his
             Country's
             Ease
             ,
          
           
             And
             whom
             no
             Colour
             of
             Affairs
             can
             please
             :
          
           
             For
             ,
             trust
             him
             with
             the
             Pow'r
             he
             do's
             aspire
             ,
          
           
             With
             mad
             Career
             he
             drives
             into
             the
             Mire
             ;
          
           
             While
             grov'ling
             there
             ,
             in
             woful
             Plight
             he
             lies
             ,
          
           
             He
             wearies
             Earth
             and
             Heav'n
             with
             restless
             Cries
             .
          
           
             Assist
             the
             Wretch
             ,
             and
             place
             him
             on
             firm
             Land
             ,
          
           
             He
             'll
             curse
             the
             Friendly
             unexpected
             Hand
             .
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             How
             dismal
             were
             your
             State
             ,
             ye
             murm'ring
             Race
             ,
          
           
             Shou'd
             your
             own
             fatal
             Wishes
             once
             take
             place
             ?
          
           
             But
             Heav'n
             ,
             and
             God-like
             Kings
             ,
             their
             Grace
             extend
             ,
          
           
             And
             ev'n
             to
             save
             th'
             Ingrateful
             ,
             condescend
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             Ah!
             what
             can
             Heav'n
             ,
             and
             God-like
             Kings
             devise
             ,
          
           
             For
             their
             Relief
             ?
             what
             Charm
             unseal
             their
             Eyes
             ,
          
           
             Whom
             common
             Danger
             warns
             not
             to
             be
             Wise
             ?
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             Yet
             ,
             good
             Palaemon
             ,
             lest
             the
             Plague
             encrease
             ,
          
           
             Mark
             out
             and
             brand
             the
             Troublers
             of
             our
             Peace
             .
          
        
         
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             The
             Faction
             a
             meer
             Hydra
             you
             will
             find
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             different
             Aspects
             to
             one
             Trunk
             are
             join'd
             ,
          
           
             Of
             Humane
             Form
             ,
             but
             all
             of
             Serpent-kind
             .
          
           
             Some
             hiss
             and
             murmur
             ,
             whom
             no
             Schemes
             of
             Law
          
           
             Can
             please
             ,
             but
             what
             their
             own
             wild
             Notions
             draw
             ;
          
           
             Nor
             would
             ev'n
             these
             content
             the
             Changlings
             long
             .
          
           
             Others
             by
             Sympathy
             affect
             the
             wrong
             ,
          
           
             To
             Errour
             by
             Impulse
             of
             Nature
             led
             ,
          
           
             Like
             Dungeon
             Toads
             on
             poys'nous
             Vapours
             fed
             ,
          
           
             'Mongst
             Caitiffs
             ,
             who
             had
             sold
             for
             Stated
             Sums
          
           
             Their
             Country
             ,
             summon'd
             now
             to
             hasty
             Dooms
             .
          
           
             They
             who
             had
             longest
             Trusted
             ,
             most
             repin'd
             ,
          
           
             Discarded
             Knaves
             ,
             to
             want
             and
             shame
             consign'd
             ,
          
           
             The
             Drudg'ry
             past
             ,
             their
             dear
             Arreans
             behind
             .
          
           
             For
             Envy
             some
             revile
             ,
             who
             wanted
             Heart
          
           
             In
             the
             bold
             Scene
             to
             bear
             a
             timely
             Part.
          
           
             Some
             who
             nor
             Prince
             nor
             Providence
             dare
             trust
             ,
          
           
             Cautious
             how
             they
             too
             soon
             the
             Foe
             disgust
             ,
          
           
             Decry
             the
             Cause
             ,
             of
             present
             Grace
             assur'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             wisely
             for
             another
             Turn
             secur'd
             .
          
           
           
             Some
             sleepy
             Sotts
             ,
             born
             swiftly
             down
             the
             Stream
             ,
          
           
             Wake
             ,
             Stare
             ,
             and
             think
             the
             wondrous
             Change
             a
             Dream
             .
          
           
             Some
             who
             had
             lent
             their
             helping-hand
             ,
             recoil
             ;
          
           
             For
             want
             of
             Business
             ,
             their
             own
             work
             they
             spoil
             ;
          
           
             Fall
             off
             ,
             as
             they
             came
             on
             ,
             they
             knew
             not
             why
             ;
          
           
             Start
             any
             Game
             ,
             and
             they
             'll
             pursue
             the
             Cry.
          
           
             Mistaken
             Politicks
             did
             some
             incense
             ;
          
           
             And
             some
             found
             fault
             for
             honest
             Want
             of
             Sense
             ;
          
           
             The
             frailer
             Souls
             (
             for
             when
             were
             Women
             wise
             ?
             )
          
           
             Give
             ear
             to
             murm'ring
             Fiends
             suggested
             Lyes
             ,
          
           
             Fair
             gloz'd
             to
             cheat
             'em
             of
             their
             Paradise
             .
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             But
             Man
             methinks
             his
             Reason
             shou'd
             recal
             ,
          
           
             Not
             let
             frail
             Woman
             work
             his
             second
             Fall.
             
          
        
         
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             The
             Sex
             to
             censure
             were
             unjust
             and
             rude
             ;
          
           
             The
             Foe
             has
             few
             to
             boast
             beside
             the
             Lewd
             .
          
           
             To
             spiritual
             Whore-mongers
             let
             Whores
             be
             kind
             ,
          
           
             Their
             carnal
             Harlotry
             were
             too
             confin'd
             ,
          
           
             Without
             the
             Fornication
             of
             the
             Mind
             .
          
           
             Rank
             next
             the
             giddy
             Thoughtless
             Lawless
             Rout
             ,
          
           
             The
             Atheist
             ,
             and
             mistakenly
             Devout
             ;
          
           
             Bigots
             whose
             cross-grain'd
             Piety
             loose-rid
             ,
          
           
             Starts
             ,
             Flounces
             ,
             Kicks
             —
          
           
             Tame
             Asses
             when
             by
             Tyrants
             th'
             are
             bestrid
             .
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             Ah!
             when
             did
             Mischief
             in
             the
             State
             begin
             ,
          
           
             Where
             Conscience
             did
             not
             for
             her
             share
             come
             in
             ?
          
        
         
           
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             Mark
             the
             whole
             Chain
             of
             Publick
             Woes
             ,
             you
             'll
             find
          
           
             The
             last
             Link
             still
             to
             the
             Priest's
             Girdle
             join'd
             .
          
           
             Pan
             prosper
             me
             ,
             as
             I
             the
             Function
             hold
          
           
             Most
             Sacred
             ,
             and
             the
             Watchmen
             of
             the
             Fold
             ;
          
           
             But
             hate
             the
             Shepherds
             who
             their
             Labour
             spare
             ,
          
           
             To
             Hirelings
             leave
             their
             Flocks
             ,
             their
             only
             Care
          
           
             To
             call
             at
             Sheering-time
             for
             an
             ungodly
             Share
             :
          
           
             Fleece-warm
             ,
             and
             with
             an
             Amaryllis
             sped
             ,
          
           
             They
             Pipe
             and
             Feast
             ,
             and
             jocund
             Measures
             tread
             ,
          
           
             While
             their
             lean
             Sheep
             look
             up
             ,
             and
             are
             not
             fed
             .
          
           
             Nor
             care
             which
             way
             ,
             make
             but
             the
             stipend
             large
             ,
          
           
             Through
             Door
             or
             Breach
             they
             climb
             into
             the
             Charge
             .
          
           
             Profit
             with
             them
             is
             Grace's
             loudest
             Call
             ;
          
           
             Preferment
             's
             Sacred
             ,
             let
             the
             Blessing
             fall
          
           
             From
             a
             Court-Mistress
             ,
             or
             a
             Priest
             of
             Baal
             .
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             From
             hence
             ,
             from
             this
             corrupted
             Fountain's
             Head
             ,
          
           
             The
             poyson'd
             Stream
             of
             
               Passive
               Nonsense
            
             spread
             :
          
           
             Divines
             of
             Fortune
             ,
             to
             deserve
             their
             Pay
          
           
             From
             Court
             ,
             the
             People
             to
             the
             Prince
             betray
             ;
          
           
             With
             Fire
             and
             Lough-Bells
             for
             his
             Service
             set
             ,
          
           
             To
             awe
             the
             Partridge
             ,
             while
             he
             spreads
             his
             Net
             ;
          
           
             To
             honest
             Self-Defence
             Damnation
             give
             ,
          
           
             And
             ring
             their
             constant
             Peal
             ,
             PREROGATIVE
             .
          
        
         
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             While
             elder
             Chanticleers
             ,
             and
             more
             inspir'd
             ,
          
           
             To
             sound
             the
             Spiritual
             Watch
             alone
             aspir'd
             ,
          
           
           
             Our
             young
             and
             dapper
             Brood
             of
             forward
             Chicks
          
           
             No
             sooner
             Perch
             ,
             but
             scream
             out
             POLITICKS
             .
          
           
             Grown
             Parish-Cocks
             ,
             each
             in
             his
             Barn
             can
             crow
          
           
             Against
             tame
             Fowl
             ,
             but
             Cravens
             to
             the
             Foe
             ;
          
           
             Plump
             ,
             richly-plum'd
             ,
             and
             of
             the
             Treading
             Strain
             ,
          
           
             They
             strut
             amongst
             their
             Hens
             ,
             and
             spread
             their
             pompous
             Train
             .
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             Ah!
             had
             the
             
               Passive
               Systeme
            
             no
             support
             ,
          
           
             Beside
             the
             Cock'ril-Clergy
             of
             the
             Court
             ?
          
           
             The
             Church
             long
             since
             had
             lent
             the
             Cause
             her
             Hand
             ,
          
           
             But
             awful
             Names
             ,
             and
             such
             as
             bore
             Command
             ,
          
           
             Too
             far
             ,
             too
             long
             indulg'd
             the
             sickly
             Dream
             ;
          
           
             Peace
             springs
             ;
             but
             while
             reserv'd
             those
             Leaders
             seem
             ,
          
           
             The
             Herd
             gaze
             on
             ,
             and
             dare
             not
             taste
             the
             Stream
             .
          
        
         
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             Enough
             :
             If
             Great
             Examples
             may
             prevail
             ,
          
           
             Our
             brightest
             Stars
             have
             scap'd
             the
             
               Dragon's
               Tail
            
             ;
          
           
             Have
             own'd
             Heav'ns
             Cause
             ,
             and
             took
             their
             
             Michael's
             Part
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             e'r
             from
             Free-born
             Truth
             's
             Defence
             did
             start
             ;
          
           
             Whose
             sense
             no
             Gorgons
             ,
             no
             Chimaera's
             charm
             ,
          
           
             To
             hang
             dead
             Weights
             on
             their
             Restorer's
             Arm
             ;
          
           
             Who
             ne'r
             to
             slavish
             Principles
             gave
             way
             ,
          
           
             That
             would
             Religion
             ,
             Church
             and
             State
             betray
             :
          
           
             From
             Ancient
             Sanctions
             still
             their
             Measures
             drew
             ;
          
           
             And
             ,
             tho
             they
             soar'd
             not
             with
             the
             Modern
             Crew
             ,
          
           
             EUSEBIA
             ne'r
             cou'd
             boast
             of
             Sons
             more
             True.
          
           
             In
             this
             bright
             List
             let
             that
             Learn'd
             Champion
             come
             ,
          
           
             EUSEBIA'S
             Glory
             ,
             and
             the
             Scourge
             of
             Rome
             ;
          
           
           
             Whose
             piercing
             Wit
             to
             all
             her
             Frauds
             gave
             light
             ,
          
           
             The
             deep-engender'd
             Births
             of
             Papal
             Night
             .
          
           
             The
             Fiends
             ,
             who
             long
             secure
             in
             Darkness
             lay
             ,
          
           
             Shrunk
             from
             his
             Beams
             ,
             and
             yell'd
             at
             sight
             of
             Day
             .
          
           
             Of
             num'rous
             Champions
             can
             EUSEBIA
             boast
             ;
          
           
             But
             This
             the
             Leader
             of
             the
             Sacred
             Host.
             
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             Yet
             equal
             Praise
             to
             that
             Learn'd
             Pastor
             give
             ,
          
           
             Of
             Modern
             Skill
             ,
             and
             Meekness
             Primitive
             ;
          
           
             But
             bold
             in
             Fight
             ,
             with
             Arguments
             concise
             ,
          
           
             He
             lightens
             in
             the
             Eyes
             of
             Rome
             and
             Vice
             :
          
           
             With
             Wonder
             Men
             ,
             with
             Triumph
             Angels
             see
          
           
             His
             blameless
             Life
             ,
             from
             Pride
             and
             Passion
             free
             ;
          
           
             No
             Priest
             more
             frank
             the
             Ghostly
             Counsel
             gives
             ;
          
           
             No
             Lay-man
             with
             more
             lib'ral
             Hand
             relieves
             ;
          
           
             Unpractis'd
             in
             the
             worldly
             Shepherds
             Guile
             ,
          
           
             His
             Life
             's
             whole
             business
             is
             to
             Reconcile
             ;
          
           
             His
             very
             Aspect
             breaths
             an
             Air
             of
             Grace
          
           
             So
             mild
             ,
             he
             carries
             Gospel
             in
             his
             Face
             .
          
        
         
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             How
             shall
             EUSEBIA
             then
             her self
             excuse
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             Builders
             cou'd
             this
             Corner-stone
             refuse
             ?
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             Yet
             ev'n
             th'unjust
             Repulse
             his
             Worth
             confess'd
             ,
          
           
             Rejected
             by
             the
             Many
             ,
             not
             the
             Best
             .
          
        
         
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             Ah!
             without
             Envy
             let
             the
             Truth
             be
             told
             ,
          
           
             Such
             as
             ne'r
             knew
             the
             Shepherds
             Staff
             to
             hold
          
           
             Fear'd
             MODERATION
             wou'd
             set
             ope
             the
             Fold
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             Oft
             have
             I
             found
             ,
             while
             I
             my
             Sheep
             did
             guide
          
           
             To
             Pastures
             sweet
             ,
             the
             friendly
             Gate
             set
             wide
             ,
          
           
             They
             freely
             enter'd
             ,
             and
             my
             Crook
             obey'd
             ;
          
           
             But
             still
             of
             narrow
             Inlets
             were
             afraid
             ;
          
           
             Or
             if
             a
             Bridge
             too
             streight
             they
             spy'd
             afore
             ,
          
           
             Wou'd
             rather
             take
             the
             Stream
             ,
             than
             venture
             o'r
             .
          
           
             But
             say
             ,
             What
             prejudice
             had
             thence
             ensu'd
             ,
          
           
             Had
             they
             receiv'd
             the
             separate
             Multitude
             ?
          
           
             Was
             ever
             Shepherd
             yet
             a
             Foe
             to
             Peace
             ,
          
           
             Or
             e'r
             repin'd
             to
             see
             his
             Flock
             increase
             ?
          
        
         
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             The
             Fold
             set
             ope
             ,
             had
             gain'd
             more
             Sheep
             ,
             't
             is
             true
             ,
          
           
             But
             had
             withal
             receiv'd
             more
             Shepherds
             too
             ,
          
           
             Who
             with
             new
             Stewards
             diligence
             at
             first
          
           
             (
             If
             not
             for
             Conscience-sake
             )
             their
             Flocks
             had
             nurs'd
             ;
          
           
             Our
             Loiterers
             from
             hence
             foresaw
             their
             Doom
             ,
          
           
             When
             none
             but
             painful
             Pastors
             cou'd
             have
             room
             .
          
           
             This
             made
             'em
             rave
             like
             Men
             on
             Ruin's
             brink
             ,
          
           
             And
             cry
             ,
             The
             Deluge
             comes
             ,
             stop
             ev'ry
             Chink
             ,
          
           
             Shut
             fast
             the
             Door
             ,
             or
             else
             the
             Ark
             will
             sink
             .
          
           
             To
             lose
             one
             useless
             Peg
             did
             Shipwreck
             seem
             ,
          
           
             And
             ev'ry
             rotten
             Rafter
             was
             a
             Beam.
             
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             Let
             question'd
             Beauties
             owe
             their
             Charms
             to
             Dress
             ,
          
           
             EUSEBIA'S
             Frame
             does
             all
             that
             's
             Fair
             possess
             ;
          
           
             Too
             gawdy
             Tire
             but
             makes
             a
             Matron
             scorn'd
             ,
          
           
             Let
             mild
             EUSEBIA
             shine
          
           
             A
             Firmament
             by
             her
             own
             Stars
             adorn'd
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             Yet
             Meteors
             to
             the
             Firmament
             may
             rise
             ,
          
           
             And
             Comets
             Pestilent
             invade
             the
             Skies
             ;
          
           
             'T
             was
             so
             of
             old
             .
             —
          
           
             Their
             Influence
             in
             first
             Ages
             did
             appear
             .
          
           
             Bright
             and
             untroubled
             shone
             the
             Church's
             Sphere
             ,
          
           
             Till
             Sons
             of
             Vengeance
             got
             th'Ascendent
             there
             .
          
           
             In
             petty
             Factions
             first
             her
             Stars
             engag'd
             ,
          
           
             Till
             War
             broke
             out
             ,
             and
             Persecution
             rag'd
             .
          
           
             This
             Pest
             ,
             by
             
             Constantine's
             warm
             Summer
             bred
             ,
          
           
             At
             once
             through
             all
             th'
             infected
             Clergy
             spread
             .
          
           
             The
             bloody
             Paths
             had
             long
             in
             vain
             been
             trod
             ,
          
           
             Till
             Heathen
             Princes
             ,
             tir'd
             ,
             threw
             down
             the
             Rod
             ;
          
           
             Ambitious
             Priests
             the
             Utensil
             to
             burn
          
           
             Thought
             pity
             ,
             till
             themselves
             had
             took
             their
             turn
             ,
          
           
             And
             persecuting
             by
             more
             dextrous
             Rules
             ,
          
           
             Prov'd
             Maximine
             and
             Dioclesian
             Fools
             .
          
           
             'T
             was
             Rooting
             up
             God's
             Heritage
             before
             ,
          
           
             While
             Magistrates
             the
             Iron
             Scepter
             bore
             :
          
           
             In
             Them
             the
             Exercise
             ,
             tho
             more
             severe
             ,
          
           
             Was
             Discipline
             ,
             and
             Ecclesiastick
             Care.
             
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             For
             Church
             or
             State
             on
             Conscience
             to
             impose
             ,
          
           
             Must
             wider
             make
             the
             Breach
             they
             think
             to
             close
             :
          
           
             And
             he
             that
             Fetters
             wou'd
             for
             Reason
             find
             ,
          
           
             May
             shackle
             the
             Sun-beams
             ,
             and
             grasp
             the
             Wind
             ,
          
           
             Which
             no
             restraints
             of
             Human
             Laws
             will
             know
             ,
          
           
             But
             where
             and
             when
             they
             please
             will
             shine
             or
             blow
             .
          
           
             But
             Truth
             should
             bind
             ;
             And
             your
             Opinion's
             true
             ,
          
           
             And
             erring
             Judgments
             should
             submit
             to
             you
             ,
          
           
           
             I
             grant
             .
             —
          
           
             But
             first
             you
             must
             convince
             by
             Reason's
             Light
             ,
          
           
             That
             They
             mistake
             ,
             and
             You
             are
             in
             the
             right
             :
          
           
             Where
             You
             mistake
             ,
             and
             They
             the
             Truth
             may
             hit
             ,
          
           
             Will
             you
             to
             your
             own
             Rule
             of
             Force
             submit
             ?
          
           
             You
             'll
             plead
             the
             Privilege
             They
             urg'd
             before
             ,
          
           
             Conviction
             crave
             ,
             and
             They
             demand
             no
             more
             .
          
           
             Conviction
             clear
             the
             Soul
             can
             only
             win
             ;
          
           
             With
             Club
             or
             Hammer
             try
             to
             force
             the
             Pin
             ,
          
           
             The
             Brains
             you
             may
             beat
             out
             ,
             ne'r
             drive
             the
             Notion
             in
             ,
          
           
             Absurd
             the
             Zeal
             that
             Gospel's
             Pow'r
             promotes
          
           
             'Gainst
             Gospel
             Laws
             ,
             and
             Peace
             by
             cutting
             Throats
             ;
          
           
             That
             Faith
             to
             plant
             does
             Charity
             disband
             ,
          
           
             And
             break
             for
             
               doubtful
               Truths
            
             a
             
               clear
               Command
            
             .
          
           
             Since
             first
             this
             Pest
             the
             Christian
             World
             annoy'd
             ,
          
           
             Since
             Persecuting
             Pow'r
             the
             Church
             enjoy'd
             ,
          
           
             Zeal
             marr'd
             
               Religion
               ,
               Creeds
            
             the
             Faith
             destroy'd
             .
          
        
         
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             Where
             Rome
             bears
             sway
             ,
             bid
             Laws
             Divine
             farewell
             ,
          
           
             And
             Human
             Rights
             t'assert
             ,
             is
             to
             Rebel
             .
          
           
             Speak
             ,
             suffering
             Witness
             ,
             I
             appeal
             to
             Thee
             ,
          
           
             Thou
             First
             Apostle
             of
             our
             Liberty
             ,
          
           
             Condemn'd
             to
             Stripes
             .
             Thy
             Crime
             ?
             Thou
             didst
             presum
          
           
             To
             write
             'gainst
             
               Arbitrary
               Pow'r
            
             and
             Rome
             ;
          
           
             Didst
             Inferences
             of
             
               strange
               Treason
            
             draw
             ,
          
           
             And
             say
             ,
             
               'T
               was
               Legal
               to
               defend
               the
               Law.
            
          
           
             Thy
             envious
             Foes
             no
             other
             Crimes
             could
             urge
             ,
          
           
             And
             to
             confute
             thy
             Pen
             ,
             produc'd
             the
             Scourge
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             You
             mention'd
             Constantine
             ,
             in
             whose
             mild
             Reign
          
           
             The
             harass'd
             Church
             did
             first
             her
             Freedom
             gain
             ,
          
           
             When
             Priests
             secure
             to
             Bishopricks
             aspir'd
             ,
          
           
             Without
             First-Fruits
             of
             Martyrdom
             requir'd
             :
          
           
             Tell
             me
             ,
             How
             then
             could
             Cruelty
             intrude
             ?
          
           
             How
             came
             the
             Persecuting
             Plague
             renew'd
             ?
          
        
         
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             Lust
             ,
             Riot
             ,
             Avarice
             ,
             Ambition
             ,
             Strife
             ,
          
           
             Are
             Bastard-off-springs
             of
             too
             peaceful
             Life
             .
          
           
             With
             nice
             Disputes
             the
             wanton
             Priests
             began
             ,
          
           
             To
             Envy
             next
             ,
             and
             wild
             Confusion
             ran
             ;
          
           
             Wou'd
             Mysteries
             too
             curiously
             enquire
             ,
          
           
             That
             first
             rais'd
             Smoke
             ,
             then
             set
             the
             Church
             on
             fire
             .
          
           
             From
             brangling
             Arrius
             the
             first
             Fire-brand
             came
             .
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             But
             Constantine
             took
             care
             to
             quench
             the
             Flame
             .
          
        
         
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             The
             Nicene
             Fathers
             ,
             summon'd
             to
             decide
          
           
             The
             Strife
             ,
             instead
             of
             Lenitives
             apply'd
             ,
          
           
             Too
             late
             convinc'd
             th'indulgent
             Emperour
          
           
             How
             fatal
             't
             was
             to
             trust
             a
             Priest
             with
             Pow'r
             .
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             The
             pious
             Prince
             ,
             to
             do
             th'
             Assembly
             Grace
             ,
          
           
             Refus'd
             (
             I
             've
             heard
             )
             Himself
             to
             take
             his
             place
          
           
             'Till
             they
             were
             sat
             .
             —
             'T
             was
             favour
             ill
             apply'd
             ,
          
           
             If
             such
             Behaviour
             taught
             the
             Doctors
             Pride
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             Then
             having
             ,
             as
             a
             Christian
             Monarch
             ought
             ,
          
           
             First
             burnt
             th'Invectives
             which
             the
             Fathers
             brought
          
           
             Against
             each
             Other
             ,
             and
             for
             Union
             press'd
             ,
          
           
             Thus
             to
             the
             Council
             he
             himself
             address'd
             :
          
           
             God
             made
             you
             Priests
             ,
             and
             God
             alone
             can
             be
          
           
             Your
             Judge
             ;
             Rest
             therefore
             from
             my
             Censure
             free
             ;
          
           
             No
             Man
             shou'd
             judge
             of
             Gods
             ,
             and
             You
             are
             Gods
             to
             Me.
             
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             When
             Princes
             yield
             ,
             the
             Prelate
             must
             prevail
             .
          
        
         
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             When
             e'r
             did
             Priest
             to
             take
             Advantage
             fail
             ?
          
           
             Forthwith
             Church-Censures
             flew
             as
             thick
             as
             Hail
             :
          
           
             The
             
               Arrian
               Systeme
            
             to
             just
             flames
             assign'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             
               Nicene
               Creed
            
             with
             Penalties
             enjoyn'd
             .
          
           
             They
             fix'd
             not
             Here
             ;
             but
             for
             each
             trifling
             Cause
          
           
             The
             Mettal
             try'd
             of
             their
             new
             
               Penal
               Laws
            
             .
          
           
             Think
             how
             each
             Victor
             went
             triumphant
             home
             ,
          
           
             With
             Titles
             swell'd
             too
             bulky
             for
             his
             Dome
             ,
          
           
             From
             Council
             Orthodox
             and
             Catholick
             ;
          
           
             Each
             Hare
             that
             cross'd
             him
             was
             an
             Heretick
             .
          
           
             And
             if
             his
             Horse
             but
             stumbl'd
             in
             his
             way
             ,
          
           
             Th'erroneous
             Beast
             incurr'd
             th'
             Anathema
             .
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             Yet
             ,
             since
             they
             squar'd
             by
             Rules
             of
             Sacred
             Writ
          
           
             Their
             Symbol
             ,
             you
             to
             their
             Decrees
             submit
             ?
          
        
         
           
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             I
             own
             what
             e're
             the
             Sacred
             Books
             contain
             ,
          
           
             Can
             Mysteries
             believe
             ,
             though
             not
             explain
             ;
          
           
             Have
             none
             in
             Footsteps
             of
             first
             Martyrs
             trod
             ,
          
           
             And
             dy'd
             for
             Truth
             ,
             who
             ne'r
             conceiv'd
             the
             Mode
             ?
          
           
             Brand
             such
             as
             won't
             to
             Truths
             reveal'd
             agree
             ,
          
           
             But
             Penalties
             on
             such
             as
             cannot
             see
          
           
             What
             others
             can
             ,
             is
             Breach
             of
             Charity
             .
          
           
             Had
             Charity
             in
             Synods
             interpos'd
             ,
          
           
             The
             Seamless
             Garments
             Breach
             had
             soon
             been
             clos'd
             ,
          
           
             Which
             to
             repair
             the
             wrangling
             Doctors
             try'd
             ,
          
           
             (
             While
             Metaphysicks
             sacred
             Truths
             decide
             )
          
           
             And
             by
             ill-botching
             made
             the
             Rent
             more
             wide
             ;
          
           
             But
             they
             had
             now
             learnt
             Sciences
             ,
             and
             must
          
           
             To
             their
             own
             Fame
             ,
             as
             well
             as
             Truth
             be
             Just.
          
           
             Would
             Mysteries
             ,
             not
             like
             Mechanicks
             know
             ,
          
           
             But
             both
             the
             
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
            
             and
             
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
               〈◊〉
            
             show
             ;
          
           
             Were
             subtle
             School-men
             grown
             ,
             and
             to
             agree
             ,
          
           
             Had
             Scandal
             been
             to
             their
             Philosophy
             .
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             But
             tell
             me
             ,
             did
             these
             Clouds
             the
             Faith
             invade
             ,
          
           
             When
             first
             whole
             Nations
             were
             its
             Converts
             made
             ?
          
        
         
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             The
             Faith
             shone
             clear
             till
             School-Terms
             ,
             rais'd
             like
             Mists
             ,
          
           
             Favour'd
             the
             Juggles
             of
             Imposing
             Priests
             ;
          
           
             And
             Councils
             having
             Scripture
             Bounds
             o're-past
             ,
          
           
             Advanc'd
             to
             forging
             of
             New
             Creeds
             at
             last
             ;
          
           
           
             Which
             by
             the
             Hocus
             of
             Infallible
             ,
          
           
             Went
             down
             so
             glib
             the
             Difference
             few
             could
             tell
             ,
          
           
             The
             Priest's
             Turn
             better
             serv'd
             ,
             and
             pleas'd
             the
             Crowd
             as
             well
             ;
          
           
             They
             heard
             how
             their
             Redeemer
             at
             his
             Death
          
           
             Did
             Sacred
             Legacies
             to
             all
             bequeath
             ,
          
           
             Which
             if
             they
             'd
             now
             inspect
             ,
             and
             had
             the
             Skill
             ,
          
           
             The
             Church
             into
             her
             Hands
             had
             got
             the
             Will
             ;
          
           
             For
             now
             the
             Laity
             were
             left
             i'
             th'
             Lurch
             ,
          
           
             Th'
             Encroaching
             Clergy
             were
             become
             the
             Church
             :
          
           
             Nor
             stood
             the
             Magistrate
             on
             higher
             Ground
             ,
          
           
             In
             vain
             to
             Scripture
             their
             Appeals
             they
             found
             ,
          
           
             While
             't
             was
             the
             Churches
             Priv'ledge
             to
             expound
             .
          
           
             Thus
             (
             through
             Indulgence
             ,
             Fond
             of
             such
             as
             Reign'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             through
             the
             People's
             Sloth
             )
             th'
             Ascendent
             gain'd
             ,
          
           
             Romes
             Prelate
             topp'd
             upon
             her
             Temp'ral
             Pow'r
             ,
          
           
             And
             from
             her
             Priest
             became
             her
             Emperor
             .
          
           
             With
             artful
             Baits
             the
             Fisher
             long
             had
             sought
             ,
          
           
             And
             Empire
             was
             the
             Fish
             at
             last
             he
             caught
             .
          
           
             But
             Time
             ,
             and
             Breath
             ,
             and
             Patience
             too
             wou'd
             fail
          
           
             To
             count
             the
             Steps
             of
             this
             prodigious
             Scale
             ;
          
           
             Suffice
             it
             ,
             that
             at
             first
             th'
             Impostor
             gain'd
          
           
             By
             Frauds
             his
             height
             ,
             and
             by
             worse
             Frauds
             maintain'd
             ;
          
           
             Sloth
             ,
             Ignorance
             ,
             blind
             Zeal
             ,
             and
             blinder
             Fear
             ,
          
           
             Combin'd
             to
             level
             Thrones
             ,
             and
             mount
             the
             Chair
             .
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             'T
             was
             then
             th'
             aspiring
             Clergy
             Crown'd
             their
             Hope
             ,
          
           
             And
             form'd
             their
             Church-Leviathan
             ,
             a
             Pope
             ,
          
           
             In
             whom
             they
             still
             possess
             the
             Pow'r
             they
             give
             ,
          
           
             Earth's
             Tyrant
             ,
             but
             their
             Representative
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             'T
             is
             Done
             ,
             the
             Ambitious
             Priest
             has
             got
             the
             Day
             ,
          
           
             The
             Prelate
             Rules
             ,
             and
             Princes
             must
             Obey
             ;
          
           
             The
             Spiritual
             Lord
             exalted
             to
             the
             Skies
             ,
          
           
             Looks
             down
             ,
             and
             all
             the
             Subject
             World
             defies
             ,
          
           
             Does
             safe
             his
             Empyraean
             Height
             possess
             ,
          
           
             His
             only
             Care
             to
             manage
             his
             Success
             ;
          
           
             How
             to
             dispense
             his
             Beams
             ,
             to
             whom
             be
             kind
             ,
          
           
             And
             who
             shall
             his
             Malignant
             Aspects
             find
             :
          
           
             To
             whom
             large
             Territories
             he
             shall
             give
             ,
          
           
             To
             whom
             sell
             Crowns
             ,
             and
             whom
             of
             Crowns
             deprive
             ,
          
           
             To
             Judge
             who
             best
             to
             Merit
             does
             pretend
             ,
          
           
             And
             Merit
             is
             to
             be
             the
             Church's
             Friend
             .
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             For
             Crimes
             so
             black
             ,
             that
             Humane
             Nature
             shockt
             ,
          
           
             Unpeopled
             Earth
             ,
             and
             Hell's
             Plantations
             stockt
             ;
          
           
             Th'
             Indulgence-Shop
             was
             ope'd
             with
             Pardons
             stor'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             to
             a
             Friend
             good
             pen'orths
             cou'd
             afford
             ,
          
           
             At
             th'
             old
             fixt
             Rates
             ,
             the
             rest
             their
             Ware
             must
             take
             :
          
        
         
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             But
             if
             y'
             are
             impious
             for
             the
             Churches
             sake
             ,
          
           
             Ev'n
             with
             their
             Office-Fees
             they
             can
             dispense
             ,
          
           
             They
             con
             you
             Thanks
             ,
             and
             Consecrate
             th'
             Offence
             .
          
           
             A
             Cut-Throat
             Priest
             of
             Murder
             ,
             cou'd
             make
             sport
             ,
          
           
             From
             Laws
             protected
             by
             the
             Spiritual
             Court
             ;
          
           
             Kings
             let
             him
             Kill
             ,
             and
             blackest
             Treasons
             Act
             ,
          
           
             His
             Judges
             still
             were
             Parties
             in
             the
             Fact.
             
          
        
         
           
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             What
             if
             a
             Lay-Man
             did
             the
             Priest
             Offend
             ?
          
        
         
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             An
             injur'd
             Priest
             ,
             or
             who
             could
             Wrong
             pretend
             ,
          
           
             Cry'd
             ,
             Burn
             the
             Heretick
             —
             the
             ready
             Stake
          
           
             Forthwith
             did
             Pious
             Reparation
             make
             .
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             To
             hurt
             his
             Person
             made
             the
             Sentence
             Just
             ,
          
           
             What
             the
             Priest
             said
             ,
             't
             was
             Death
             but
             to
             mistrust
             .
          
        
         
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             Fear
             more
             than
             Wit
             this
             Tyranny
             enjoin'd
             ,
          
           
             Lest
             the
             dull
             Crowd
             at
             last
             the
             Cheat
             should
             find
             ,
          
           
             And
             to
             requite
             their
             gross
             pernicious
             Pranks
             ,
          
           
             Pull
             down
             their
             Stage
             ,
             and
             stone
             the
             Mountebanks
             ;
          
           
             Dull
             Souls
             ,
             with
             Ease
             are
             of
             their
             Rights
             bereav'd
             ,
          
           
             But
             none
             Revenge
             ,
             like
             Fools
             ,
             when
             undeceiv'd
             ;
          
           
             And
             strongest
             Stomachs
             ,
             with
             large
             Draughts
             opprest
             ,
          
           
             The
             last
             Disgusts
             ,
             and
             throws
             up
             all
             the
             rest
             :
          
           
             Heap
             Crime
             on
             Crime
             ,
             to
             keep
             the
             Frauds
             from
             Air
             ,
          
           
             The
             last
             of
             Course
             must
             lie
             expos'd
             and
             bare
             ;
          
           
             And
             too
             much
             weight
             o're-throw
             the
             Guilty
             Chair
             ;
          
           
             Now
             Monster
             ,
             Triple-Crown'd
             ,
             expect
             thy
             Doom
             ,
          
           
             Luther
             the
             Saxon
             Thunder-bolt
             is
             come
             ,
          
           
             T'Unhinge
             at
             once
             the
             Babel-Toils
             of
             Rome
             .
          
           
             For
             though
             to
             Heav'n
             the
             threatning
             Front
             aspire
             ,
          
           
             He
             'll
             shew
             the
             Wretched
             Basis
             laid
             in
             Mire
          
           
             In
             Papal
             Nets
             ,
             shall
             Breaches
             make
             so
             wide
             ,
          
           
             That
             Kings
             and
             Kingdoms
             through
             the
             Rents
             shall
             slide
             :
          
           
           
             Then
             shall
             Eusebia
             ;
             cloath'd
             in
             Truth
             Divine
             ,
          
           
             Her
             Roman
             Rust
             fil'd
             off
             ,
             the
             Stars
             out-shine
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             Far
             must
             her
             first
             Reformers
             Skill
             extend
             ,
          
           
             To
             leave
             succeeding
             Ages
             nought
             to
             mend
             .
          
        
         
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             I
             not
             pretend
             to
             Judge
             ,
             since
             all
             confess
          
           
             Her
             Beauty
             ,
             who
             except
             against
             her
             Dress
             ,
          
           
             Which
             if
             she
             may
             with
             Decency
             neglect
          
           
             Or
             does
             too
             much
             the
             Roman
             Mode
             affect
             ;
          
           
             I
             leave
             her
             Guides
             that
             Question
             to
             decide
             ,
          
           
             And
             dare
             not
             charge
             the
             Sacred
             Dame
             with
             Pride
             ;
          
           
             Wou'd
             see
             Contention
             ,
             but
             not
             Order
             cease
             ;
          
           
             Order
             is
             needful
             ,
             nor
             less
             needful
             Peace
             :
          
           
             Hope
             ,
             though
             unthinking
             Formalists
             repine
             ,
          
           
             Th'
             Indulgent
             Mother
             will
             at
             last
             encline
          
           
             To
             gratifie
             her
             Pious
             Constantine
             ,
          
           
             The
             Hero
             from
             Domestick
             Cares
             unbind
          
           
             To
             prosecute
             the
             Business
             of
             Mankind
             ;
          
           
             Wave
             Jealousies
             ,
             and
             yield
             the
             Trust
             that
             's
             due
          
           
             To
             her
             kind
             Patron
             ,
             and
             Restorer
             too
             ;
          
           
             Her
             Sacred
             Birth-right
             may
             she
             so
             retain
             ,
          
           
             Dissenting
             Flocks
             so
             may
             her
             Sheep-Folds
             gain
             ,
          
           
             And
             leave
             the
             baffl'd
             Wolf
             to
             grin
             and
             howl
             in
             vain
             .
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             The
             Mother
             still
             in
             vain
             will
             condescend
             ,
          
           
             In
             vain
             to
             wilful
             Sons
             her
             Arms
             extend
             ,
          
           
           
             As
             she
             enclines
             let
             them
             Advances
             make
             ,
          
           
             Beware
             how
             Pride
             for
             Conscience
             they
             mistake
             ;
          
           
             How
             Uncommission'd
             Shepherds
             lead
             astray
             ,
          
           
             Securely
             on
             the
             wilder'd
             Sheep
             to
             prey
             :
          
           
             Divided
             Flocks
             but
             make
             the
             Wolf
             more
             bold
             ,
          
           
             The
             greatest
             Safety
             's
             in
             the
             common
             Fold
             ,
          
           
             The
             Bars
             remov'd
             ,
             Compliance
             mild
             will
             show
          
           
             Your
             Pastors
             Care
             ,
             if
             for
             Themselves
             or
             You.
          
           
             Our
             ablest
             Guides
             for
             Comprehension
             strive
             ,
          
           
             That
             Sacred
             Union
             may
             once
             more
             revive
             ,
          
           
             None
             more
             than
             He
             who
             late
             the
             Mitre
             took
             ,
          
           
             Deserv'dly
             ,
             as
             before
             ,
             He
             held
             the
             Crook
             ,
          
           
             The
             Skilful'st
             Text-man
             at
             the
             Shepherd's
             Book
             :
          
           
             True
             to
             his
             Function
             and
             the
             Publick-Weal
             ,
          
           
             For
             which
             his
             steady
             Votes
             have
             prov'd
             his
             Zeal
          
           
             In
             each
             Debate
             (
             by
             Party
             or
             Design
             ,
          
           
             Unbiass'd
             )
             does
             his
             Country's
             Int'rest
             join
             ,
          
           
             And
             stamps
             on
             State-Deerees
             a
             Seal
             Divine
             ;
          
           
             What
             Shepherd
             from
             his
             Judgment
             would
             divide
             .
          
           
             What
             Flock
             refuse
             to
             wait
             on
             such
             a
             Guide
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             Truth
             and
             Courage
             has
             of
             old
             been
             try'd
             ?
          
           
             Whom
             not
             the
             Raging
             Pestilence
             could
             make
          
           
             To
             slake
             Attendance
             ,
             or
             his
             Charge
             forsake
             ;
          
           
             His
             Sheep
             to
             Comfort
             did
             their
             Danger
             share
          
           
             When
             Hirelings
             fled
             ,
             and
             for
             themselves
             took
             Care.
             
          
        
         
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             From
             hence
             let
             Britain
             her
             new
             Freedom
             date
             ,
          
           
             The
             Church
             Consenting
             to
             Support
             the
             State
             ,
          
           
             Since
             she
             at
             last
             has
             found
             a
             King
             to
             Trust
             ,
          
           
             And
             Worthy
             Senate
             ,
             who
             to
             both
             are
             Just.
             
          
        
         
           
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             Hail
             ,
             Generous
             Patriots
             ,
             you
             that
             poize
             the
             Realm
             !
          
           
             And
             lest
             encroaching
             Waves
             the
             State
             o're-whelm
             ,
          
           
             Bring
             kind
             Supplies
             while
             Caesar
             Sits
             at
             Helm
             .
          
           
             In
             vain
             th'
             Oppress'd
             would
             call
             for
             his
             Alarms
             ,
          
           
             And
             Conquest
             beckon
             forth
             his
             Pious
             Arms
             ,
          
           
             Unless
             with
             Europes
             Freedom
             you
             comply'd
             ;
          
           
             Caesar
             and
             You
             must
             
             Europe's
             Fate
             decide
             ,
          
           
             Invading
             Pow'rs
             within
             just
             limits
             draw
             ,
          
           
             Teach
             Tyrants
             Justice
             ,
             and
             Oppressors
             Law.
          
           
             For
             though
             the
             Gallick
             Pride
             has
             swell'd
             so
             high
             ,
          
           
             United
             States
             and
             Empire
             to
             defie
             ,
          
           
             Stol'n
             Conquest
             boast
             ,
             and
             Neighbouring
             Cities
             hold
             ,
          
           
             The
             wretched
             Purchase
             of
             extorted
             Gold
             ;
          
           
             From
             you
             ,
             the
             Tyrant
             his
             Just
             Doom
             must
             wait
             ,
          
           
             For
             
             Nero's
             Guilt
             must
             look
             for
             
             Nero's
             Fate
             :
          
           
             Ev'n
             now
             the
             State-Magician
             in
             his
             Cell
             ,
          
           
             Sits
             close
             contriving
             some
             new
             impious
             Spell
             ,
          
           
             Which
             He
             sends
             forth
             his
             Daemons
             to
             perform
             ,
          
           
             Well-skill'd
             to
             raise
             ,
             but
             dares
             not
             meet
             the
             Storm
             :
          
           
             'T
             is
             You
             the
             Sword
             must
             furnish
             ,
             You
             must
             Arm
          
           
             Our
             Pious
             Hero
             to
             dissolve
             the
             Charm.
             
          
        
         
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             Our
             Swains
             o're-joy'd
             their
             Senates
             Conduct
             see
             ,
          
           
             And
             carve
             their
             Sacred
             Names
             on
             ev'ry
             Tree
             ,
          
           
             To
             their
             disposal
             yield
             their
             Grain
             and
             Fleece
             ,
          
           
             A
             ready
             Off'ring
             to
             their
             Country's
             Peace
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             Oh!
             like
             our
             Patriots
             may
             our
             Swains
             agree
             !
          
           
             From
             home-bred
             Strife
             ,
             as
             foreign
             Dangers
             free
             ,
          
           
             So
             shall
             our
             Vales
             resume
             their
             former
             Lays
             ,
          
           
             And
             Shepherds
             Skill'd
             in
             Song
             the
             Consort
             raise
             ,
          
           
             To
             celebrate
             once
             more
             our
             Great
             Restorer's
             praise
             ,
          
           
             Employ
             their
             Leisure
             purchas'd
             by
             his
             Toil
             ,
          
           
             In
             Raptures
             on
             
             Juverne's
             rescu'd
             Soil
             .
          
        
         
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             Repeat
             ,
             kind
             Youth
             ,
             for
             I
             o're-heard
             your
             Strain
          
           
             Last
             Night
             ,
             by
             Moon-shine
             ,
             from
             the
             dusky
             Plain
             ,
          
           
             That
             joins
             the
             Copse
             ,
             my
             Farms
             extreamest
             Bounds
             ,
          
           
             Repeat
             ,
             for
             they
             were
             more
             than
             vulgar
             sounds
             ;
          
           
             Your
             Song
             pursu'd
             the
             Hero
             to
             the
             Coast
          
           
             Of
             moist
             Juverne
             ,
             where
             the
             adverse
             Host
          
           
             Confus'd
             ,
             the
             Mountain
             Passes
             did
             resign
             ,
          
           
             And
             shew'd
             their
             Rear
             to
             the
             disdaining
             Boyne
             ,
          
           
             On
             whose
             steep
             banks
             our
             British
             Troops
             you
             left
             ;
          
           
             Of
             what
             ensu'd
             the
             listning
             Dales
             bereft
             ;
          
           
             Nor
             had
             retrencht
             your
             well-come
             Notes
             so
             soon
             ,
          
           
             If
             shrill
             Lycisca
             had
             not
             bay'd
             the
             Moon
             .
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             To
             happy
             Swains
             ,
             that
             task
             I
             must
             resign
             ,
          
           
             Who
             sing
             beneath
             the
             Shade
             of
             their
             own
             Vine
             ,
          
           
             From
             dewy
             Morn
             ,
             and
             sultry
             Noon
             can
             creep
          
           
             To
             their
             cool
             Sheds
             ,
             and
             choose
             to
             Pipe
             or
             Sleep
             ,
          
           
             With
             vacant
             Songs
             call
             up
             the
             Evning
             Star
             ,
          
           
             Their
             Strains
             may
             rouze
             the
             noble
             Din
             of
             VVar
             ,
          
           
           
             Make
             Squadrons
             move
             ,
             give
             foaming
             Steeds
             the
             Rein
             ,
          
           
             And
             trace
             a
             Hero
             through
             the
             dusty
             Plain
             ,
          
           
             Lure
             hov'ring
             Conquest
             down
             where
             they
             encline
             :
          
           
             Through
             all
             you
             see
             the
             gen'rous
             Freedom
             shine
             ,
          
           
             And
             what
             false
             strokes
             their
             Pencil
             strikes
             in
             Heat
             ,
          
           
             Their
             happy
             Leisure
             makes
             correct
             and
             great
             .
          
           
             VVhat
             can
             Philander
             do
             ,
             the
             wretched
             Heir
          
           
             Of
             Thought-confounding
             Grief
             ,
             and
             Slave
             of
             Care
             ,
          
           
             To
             servile
             Hours
             of
             tedious
             Day
             confin'd
             ,
          
           
             Expos'd
             all
             Night
             to
             welter
             through
             the
             Wind
             ,
          
           
             To
             tend
             in
             Sun-burnt
             Lawn
             ,
             or
             thirsty
             Dale
          
           
             His
             Master's
             Flock
             ,
             and
             must
             make
             good
             the
             Tale
             ;
          
           
             How
             shall
             the
             strict
             Damaetas
             be
             repay'd
             ?
          
           
             Suppose
             a
             Milcher
             stoln
             ,
             or
             Firstling
             stray'd
             ?
          
           
             With
             Notes
             refin'd
             can
             I
             repair
             the
             Wrong
             ,
          
           
             Or
             make
             him
             Restitution
             with
             a
             Song
             ?
          
           
             'T
             was
             then
             great
             Maro
             found
             the
             Art
             to
             Charm
             ,
          
           
             VVhen
             He
             regain'd
             his
             Freedom
             and
             his
             Farm
             ,
          
           
             VVith
             Meadows
             ,
             and
             an
             Oaten
             Pipe
             began
             ,
          
           
             Till
             warm'd
             with
             ripening
             Beams
             he
             sung
             the
             MAN.
          
           
             Thy
             poor
             Philander
             to
             the
             Muses
             Seat
          
           
             By
             stealth
             has
             crept
             and
             felt
             th'
             Inspiring
             Heat
             ;
          
           
             Been
             Midnight-Present
             at
             the
             Sacred
             Quire
             ,
          
           
             Has
             seen
             the
             Lawrell'd
             God
             ,
             and
             heard
             his
             Lyre
             ,
          
           
             In
             smooth
             Pirene
             dipt
             his
             Fancy's
             VVing
             ,
          
           
             And
             tasted
             of
             the
             learn'd
             Castalian
             Spring
             .
          
           
             VVhat
             steads
             it
             that
             he
             knows
             his
             Flow'rs
             to
             cull
             ,
          
           
             If
             rufling
             Care
             before
             his
             Garland's
             full
          
           
             Confound
             the
             fancy'd
             Order
             in
             a
             Trice
             ,
          
           
             Moil
             his
             clear
             Spring
             ,
             and
             blast
             his
             Paradise
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             Yet
             has
             our
             
               Britains
               Pollio
            
             heard
             thy
             Layes
             .
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             Our
             
             Pollio's
             Skill
             might
             
             Phaebus's
             Envy
             raise
             ,
          
           
             For
             though
             the
             Court
             be
             
             Pollio's
             proper
             Sphear
             ,
          
           
             Although
             he
             shines
             the
             brightest
             Planet
             there
             ,
          
           
             He
             thinks
             no
             scorn
             sometimes
             to
             cheer
             the
             Plain
          
           
             Oft
             condescends
             to
             hear
             the
             rural
             Strain
             ;
          
           
             Yet
             
             Pollio's
             smiles
             shou'd
             make
             no
             Shepherd
             vain
             :
          
           
             My
             uncouth
             Muse
             let
             gibing
             Goat-Herds
             laugh
          
           
             To
             Death
             ,
             and
             Codrus
             write
             her
             Epitaph
             ,
          
           
             If
             
             Pollio's
             Goodness
             she
             so
             far
             abuse
             ,
          
           
             Or
             Ween
             He
             likes
             because
             he
             does
             Excuse
             .
          
           
             On
             VVit
             's
             steep
             Heights
             he
             sits
             the
             Ruling
             God
             ,
          
           
             Those
             Heights
             which
             by
             Himself
             alone
             are
             trod
             ,
          
           
             Yet
             thence
             vouchsafe's
             his
             Gentle
             Beams
             to
             throw
             ,
          
           
             And
             pitty's
             all
             the
             panting
             Crowd
             below
             .
          
        
         
           
             PALÆMON.
             
          
           
             Yet
             
             William's
             Praise
             no
             Shepherd
             can
             refuse
             ,
          
           
             And
             Fortune
             may
             assist
             the
             daring
             Muse
             ,
          
           
             Deep
             sense
             of
             Duty
             ,
             and
             immense
             Desire
          
           
             Can
             make
             the
             Pipe
             keep
             Consort
             with
             the
             Lyre
             ,
          
           
             The
             Vanquish'd
             Boyne
             and
             Shannon
             will
             inspire
             .
          
        
         
           
             PHILANDER
             .
          
           
             VVhen
             next
             we
             meet
             expect
             the
             Silvan
             Rhime
             ,
          
           
             Night
             hastens
             ,
             and
             't
             is
             now
             my
             Folding
             time
             ;
          
           
             The
             winding
             Song
             will
             ask
             your
             Leisure's
             leave
             ,
          
           
             Employ
             your
             Patience
             ,
             though
             your
             Hopes
             deceive
             .
          
           
           
             The
             Daring
             Muse
             unbeaten
             Paths
             shall
             tread
             ,
          
           
             In
             Visionary
             Dreams
             of
             Rapture
             led
             ,
          
           
             Descend
             into
             the
             Regions
             of
             the
             Dead
             ,
          
           
             Elysian
             Bow'rs
             ,
             where
             
             Waller's
             well-tun'd
             Lyre
             ,
          
           
             The
             Art
             of
             Numbers
             shall
             instruct
             the
             Quire
             ,
          
           
             VVhere
             Milton
             on
             Eternal
             Roses
             lies
             ,
          
           
             Deep
             wrapt
             in
             Dreams
             of
             his
             own
             Paradise
             :
          
           
             Th'
             advent'rous
             Muse
             ,
             with
             this
             kind
             Vision
             charm'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             dear
             Concern
             for
             her
             lov'd
             Country
             warm'd
          
           
             Of
             Secrets
             that
             to
             
             Britain's
             Peace
             belong
             ,
          
           
             Shall
             question
             Fate
             ,
             consult
             the
             Sacred
             Throng
             ,
          
           
             And
             through
             the
             dang'rous
             Course
             —
          
           
             The
             Learn'd
             Couleian
             Shade
             direct
             her
             Song
             ,
          
           
             The
             Victor
             Crown
             ,
             and
             to
             reward
             their
             Pain
             ,
          
           
             Embalm
             and
             Consecrate
             the
             noble
             Slain
             ,
          
           
             If
             that
             low
             Pitch
             to
             which
             my
             Voice
             can
             rise
             ,
          
           
             May
             reach
             such
             Theams
             ,
             and
             rural
             Notes
             suffice
          
           
             To
             please
             the
             Plain
             ,
             is
             all
             my
             Hopes
             persue
             :
          
           
             The
             Palace
             has
             already
             had
             its
             due
             .
          
        
         
           FINIS
           .
        
      
    
     
       
         Notes, typically marginal, from the original text
         
           Notes for div A63058-e190
           
             *
             Letter
             to
             a
             Dissenting
             Clergy-man