A second century not half-way run,
Since the new honors of her blood begun.
A lion old, obscene, and furious made
By lust, compress'd her mother in a shade;
Then, by a left-hand marriage, weds the dame,
Covering adultery with a specious name :
So fchifm begot; and facrilege and she,
A well match'd pair, got graceless herefy.
God's and kings rebels have the fame good cause,
To trample down divine and human laws :
Both would be call'd reformers, and their hate
Alike destructive both to church and state :
The fruit proclaims the plant; a lawless prince
By luxury reform'd incontinence;
By ruins, charity; by riots, abstinence.
Confeffions, fafts, and penance set aside;
Oh with what ease we follow fuch a guide,
Where fouls are starv'd, and senses gratify'd !
Where marriage pleasures midnight prayer
And mattin bells, a melancholy cry,
Are tun'd to merrier notes, Increase and mul-
Religion shews a rosy-color'd face;
Not hatter'd out with drudging works of grace :
A down-hill reformation rolls apace.
What flesh and blood would crowd the narrow gate,
Or, 'till they waste their pamper'd paunches,
All would be happy at the cheapest rate.
Tho our lean faith these rigid laws has given,
The full-fed Mussulman goes fat to heaven;
For his Arabian prophet with delights
Of sense allur'd his eastern proselytes.
The jolly Luther, reading him, began
T' interpret fcriptures by his alcoran;
To grub the thorns beneath our tender feet,
And make the paths of Paradise more sweet :
Bethought him of a wife ere half way gone,
For 'twas uneasy travelling alone;
And, in this masquerade of mirth and love,
Mistook the bliss of heaven for Bacchanals above.
Sure he prefum'd of praise, who came to stock
Th' etherial pastures with so fair a flock,
Burnish'd, and bat'ning on their food, to show
Their diligence of careful herds below.
Our Panther, tho like these she chang'd her
head,
Yet as the mistress of a monarch's bed,
Her front erect with majesty she bore,
The crofier weilded, and the mitre wore.
Her upper part of decent discipline
Shew'd affectation of an ancient line;
And fathers, councils, church and churches head,
Were on her reverend phylacteries read.
But what difgrac'd and disavow'd the rest,
Was Calvin's brand, that stigmatiz'd the beast,
Thus, like a creature of a double kind,
In her own labyrinth she lives confin'd.
To foreign lands no found of her is come,
Humbly content to be despis'd at home.
Such is her faith, where good cannot be had,
At least she leaves the refuse of the bad :
Nice in her choice of ill, tho not of best,
And least deform'd, because deform'd the leaft.
In doubtful points betwixt her differing friends,
Where one for substance, one for fign contends,
Their contradicting terms she strives to join;
Sign shall be substance, substance shall be fign.
A real prefence all her fons allow,
And yet 'tis flat idolatry to bow,
Because the Godhead's there they know not how.
Her novices are taught, that bread and wine
Are but the visible and outward fign,
Receiv'd by those who in communion join.
But th' inward grace, or the thing signify'd,
His blood and body, who to fave us dy'd;
The faithful this thing signify'd receive :
What is't those faithful then partake or leave?
For what is signify'd and understood,
Is, by her own confeffion, flesh and blood.
Then, by the fame acknowledgment, we know
They take the fign, and take the substance too.
The literal sense is hard to flesh and blood,
But nonsense never can be understood.
Her wild belief on every wave is tost; But fure no church can better morals boaft: True to her king her principles are found; Oh that her practice were but half so sound! Stedfast in various turns of state she stood, And feal'd her vow'd affection with her blood: Nor will I meanly tax her constancy, That interest or obligement made the tye. Bound to the fate of murder'd monarchy, Before the founding ax so falls the vine, Whose tender branches round the poplar twine, She chose her ruin, and resign'd her life, In death undaunted as an Indian wife : A rare example! but some fouls we fee Grow hard, and stiffen with adversity : Yet these by fortune's favors are undone; Resolv'd into a baser form they run, And bore the wind, but cannot bear the fun.
Let this be nature's frailty, or her fate,
Or Isgrim's counsel, her new-chosen mate ;
Still she's the fairest of the fallen crew,
No mother more indulgent but the true.
Fierce to her foes, yet fears her force to try,
Because she wants innate authority;
For how can the constrain them to obey,
Who has herself caft off the lawful sway?
Rebellion equals all, and those, who toil
In common theft, will share the common spoil.
Let her produce the title and the right
Againft her old superiors first to fight;
If she reform by text, e'en that's as plain
For her own rebels to reform again.
As long as words a diff'rent sense will bear,
And each may be his own interpreter,
Our airy faith will no foundation find :
The word's a weathercock for every wind :
The bear, the fox, the wolf, by turns prevail;
The most in power supplies the present gale.
The wretched Panther cries aloud for aid
To church and councils, whom the first betray'd;
No help from fathers or tradition's train :
Those ancient guides she taught us to disdain,
And by that fcripture, which the once abus'd
To reformation, stands herself accus'd.
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