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And spirited out of th’Enjoyments
Of precious, edifying Employments;
By those who lodg’d their Gifts and Graces,
Like better Bowlers, in your
All which you bore with Resolution,
Charg'd on th’ Account of Persecution ;
And though, most righteously opprest,
Against your Wills, still acquiest:
And never Humm'd and Hau'd Sedition,
Nor Snuffled Treafon, nor Misprison.
That is, because you never durft ;
For had you preach'd and pray'd your worst,
Alas ! you were no longer able
To raise your Posse of the Rabble:
One single Red-Coat Centinel
Out-charm'd the Magick of the Spell ;
And with his Squirt-fire, could disperse
Whole Troops, with Chapter rais'd and Verfei
We know too well those Tricks of yours,
· To leave it ever in your Powers :
Or trust our Safeties, or Undoings,
To your Disposing of Our-goings;
Or to your Ord'ring Providence,
One Farthings-worth of Consequence.
For had you Pow'r to undermine,
Or Wit to carry a Design,
Or Correspondence, to trepan,
Inveigle, or betray one Man;
There's nothing else that intervenes,
And bars your Zeal to use the Means.
And therefore wond'rous like, no doubt,
To bring in Kings, or keep them out :
Brave Undertakers to restore,
That could not keep your Selves in Pow'r;
T' advance the Int’rests of the Crown,
That wanted Wit to keep your own.
'Tis true, you have (for I'd be loth
To wrong ye) done your Parts in both;
To keep him out, and bring him in,
As Grace is introduc'd by Sin ;
For 'twas your Zealous Want of Sense,
And sanctify’d Impertinence ;
Your carrying Bus’ness in a Huddle,
That forc'd our Rulers to New-model
Oblig'd the State to tack about,
And turn you, Root and Branch, all out
To Reformado, One and All,
T' your Great Croysado, General.
Your greedy slav'ring to devour,
Before’twas in your Clutches Pow'r,
That sprung the Game you were to set,
Before y' had time to draw the Net :
Your Spite to see the Church's Lands
Divided into other Hands,
And all your Sacrilegious Ventures,
Laid out in Tickets and Debentures;
Your Envy to be sprinkled down,
By Under Churches in the Town;
And no Course us’d to stop their Mouths,
Nor th' Independents spreading Growths.
All which consider'd, 'tis most true,
None bring him in so much as you:
Who have prevail'd beyond their Plots,
The Midnight Junto's, and seald Knotis;
That thrive more by your Zealous Piques,
Than all their own rash Politicks.
And this way you may claim a Share,
: . In carrying (as you brag) th’Affair ;
Else Frogs, and Toads, that croak’d the Jeres,
From Pharaoh, and his Brick-kilns lose ::
And Flies, and Mange, that set them free,
From Task-Masters, and Slavery,
Were likelier to do the Feat,
In any Indiff'rent Man's Conceit;
For who e'er heard of Restoration,
Until your thorough Reformation ?
That is, the King's and "Churches Lands
Were sequestred int' other Hands :
For only then, and not before,
Your Eyes were open'd to restore.
And when the Work was carrying on,
Who croft it, but your selves alone ?
As, by a World of Hints, appears,
All plain, and extant as your Ears.
But first o'th' first; The Isle of Wight
VVill rise up, if you should deny't;
VVhere Henderson, and th'other Masses,
VVerę sent to cap Texts, and put Cases:
To pass for deep and learned Scholars
Although but Paltry Db-and-Solers.
As if th' unfeasonable Fools
Had been a Coursing in the Schools ;
Until th' had prov'd the Devil Author
O'th' Cov’nant, and the Cause, his Daughter,
For when they charg'd him with the Guilt
Of all the Blood that had been spilt;
They did not mean He wrought th’ Effusion
In Person, like Sir Pride, or Hugyson:
But only those who first begun
'The Quarrel, were by him set on.
And who could those be but the Saints,
Those Reformation Termagants ?
But 'ere this pass'd, the wise Debate
Spent so much Time, it grew too late ;
For Oliver had gotten Ground,
T'inclose 'em, with his Warriors, round.
Had brought his Providence about,
And turn'd th' untimely Sophists out.
Nor had the Uxbridge Bus ness less
Of Nonsense in't, of Sottishness ;