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I would say Eye, for h' had but one,
As most agree, though some fay none.
He was well stay'd, and in his Gate
Preserv'd a Grave, Majestick State.
At Spur or Switch no more he skipt,
Or mended Pace, than Spaniard whipt:
And yet so fiery, he would bound,
As if he griev'd to touch the Ground :
That Cæsar's Horse, who, as Fame goes,
Had Corns upon his Feet and Toes,
Was not by half so tender hooft,
the Ground fo fuft. And as that Beast would kneel and stoop, (Some write) to take his Rider
up: So Hudibras his ('tis well known) Would often do, to set him down. We shall not need to say what lack Of Leather was upon his Back : For that was hidden under Pad, And Breech of Knight full gall’d as bad, His ftrutting Ribs on both sides show'd Like Furrows he himself had plow'd:
For underneath the Skirt of Pannel,
Twixt every two there was a Channel.
His dragling Tail hung in the Dirt,
Which on his Rider he would flurt;
Still as his tender Side he prickt,
With arm’d Heel, or with unarm’d, kickt;
For Hudibras wore but one Spur,
As wisely knowing, could he stir
To alive Trot one side of's Horse,
The other would not hang an Arse.
A Squire he had, whose name was Ralph,
That in th' Adventure went his half.
Though Writers, for more stately Tone,
Do call him Ralpho, 'tis all one :
And when we can with Meter safe,
We'll call him fo, if not, plain Raph ;
(For Ryhine the Rudder is of Verses,
With which,like Ships,they steer their Courses.)
An equal stock of Wit and Valour
He had laid in, by Birth a Taylor.
The mighty Tyrian Quieen that gaind
With subtle Shreds, a Tract of Land,
Did leave it with a Castle fair
To his great Ancestor, her Heir ;
From him descended cross-legg d Knights,
Fain’d for their Faith and Warlike Fights
Against the bloody Canibal,
Whom they destroy'd both great and small.
This sturdy Squire, he had, as well
As the bold Trojan Knight, seen Hell,
Not with a counterfeited Pass
Of Golden Bough, but true Gold-Lace.
His Knowledge was not far behind
The Knight's, but of another kind,
And he another way came by't :
Some call it Gifts, and some New Light.
A liberal Art, that costs no Pains
Of Study, Industry, or Brains,
His Wit was sent him for a Token,
But in the Carriage crackt and broken.
Like Commendation Nine-pence, crookt
With to and from my Love, it lookt.
He ne'er consider'd it, as loth
To look a Gift-Horse in the Mouth;
And very wisely would lay forth
No more upon it than 'twas worth.
But as he
got it freely , so
He spent it frank a freely too.
For Saints their
I fometimes be
Of Gifts that cost the is nothing, free.
By means of this, with Hem and Cough,
Prolongers to enlightned Stuff,
He could deep Mysteries unriddle,
As easily as thread a Needle
For as of Vagabonds we say,
That they are ne'er beside their Way :
What e'er Men speak by this New Light,
Still they are sure to be i'th' right.
"Tis a dark-Lantborn of the Spirit,
Which none see by but those that bear it:
A Light that falls down from on high,
For Spiritual Trades to cozen by:
An Ignis Fatuus that bewitches
And leads Men into Pools and Ditches,
To make them dip themselves, and sound
For Christendom, in dirty Pond;
To dive like Wild-fowl, for Salvation,
And fish to catch Regeneration.
This Light inspires, and plays upon
The Nose of Saint, like Bag pipe Drone,
And speaks through hollow empty Soul,
As through a Trunk, or whispring Hole,
Sych Language as no mortal Ear
But Spiritual Eaves-droppers can hear.
So Phæbus, or some Friendly Muse
Into Small Poets Song infuse;
Which they at second-hand reherse
Through Reed or Bag-Pipe, Verse for Verse.
Thus Ralph became infallible,
As three or four legg'd Oracle,
The Antient Cup, or modern Chair;
Spoke Truth point-blank, though unaware.
For Mystick Learning, wondrous able
In Magick Talisman, and Cabal,
Whose primitive Tradition reaches
As far as Adam's first green Breeches:
Deep fighhted in Intelligences,
Idea's, Atomes, Influences;