Knew more than forty of them do,
As far as words and terms could go.
All which he understood by rote,
And, as occafion ferv'd, would quote:
No matter whether right or wrong,
They might be either faid or fung,
His notions fitted things fo well,

That which was which he could not tell;
But oftentimes mistook the one

For th' other, as great clerks have done.
He could reduce all things to acts,
And knew their natures by abstracts;
Where entity and quiddity,

The ghosts of defunct bodies, fly;
Where Truth in perfon does appear,
Like words congeal'd in northern air.
He knew what's what, and that's as high
As metaphyfic wit can fly.
In fchool-divinity as able,
As he that hight, Irrefragable;
A fecond Thomas, or at once
To name them all, another Duns:
Profound in all the nominal

And real ways beyond them all;
For he a rope of fand could twist
As tough as learned Sorbonist;
And weave fine cobwebs, fit for fcull
That's empty when the moon is full;
Such as take lodgings in a heed
That's to be let unfurnished

He could raise fcruples dark and nice,
And after folve 'em in a trice,
As if divinity had catch'd

The itch, on purpose to be scratch'd;
Or, like a mountebank, did wound
And ftab herself with doubts profound,
Only to fhew with how small pain
The fores of faith are cur'd again;
Although by woful proof we find,
They always leave a scar behind.
He knew the feat of paradife,
Could tell in what degree it lies;

And, as he was difpos'd, could prove it,
Below the moon, or else above it.
What Adam dream'd off when his bride
Came from her closet in his fide;
Whether the devil tempted her
By a High-Dutch interpreter ;
If either of them had a navel;
Who first made mufic malleable;
Whether the ferpent, at the fall,
Had cloven feet, or none at all:
All this, without a glofs or comment,
He could unriddle in a moment,

In proper terms fuch as men fmatter,
When they throw out and mifs the matter.

For his religion it was fit

To match his learning and his wit:

'Twas Prebyterian true blue,

For he was of that stubborn crew

Of errant faints, whom all men grant
To be the true church militant:
Such as do build their faith upon
The holy text of pike and gun;
Decide all controverfies by
Infallible artillery;

And prove their doctrine orthodox
By apoftolic blows and knocks;
Call fire, and fword, and defolation,
A godly thorough reformation,
Which always must be carry'd on,
And still be doing, never done:
As if religion were intended

For nothing else but to be mended.
A fect whofe chief devotion lies
In odd perverfe antipathies:
In falling out with that or this,
And finding fomewhat still amifs:
More peevish, cross, and splenetic.
Than dog distract, or monkey fick.
That with more care keep holiday
The wrong, than others the right way:
Compound for fins they are inclin'd to,
By damning those they have no mind to.
Still fo perverfe and opposite,
As if they worshipp'd God for spite.
The felf-fame thing they will abhor
One way, and long another for.
Free-will they one way difavow,
Another, nothing else allow.

All piety confifts thenin

In them, in other men al in.
Rather than fail, they will

That which they love of AATTIN

Quarrel with mind í past mater
Their best and deart fed

Fat pig and gook that some

And blafpheme cart time the m
Th'apostles of this fente mig.

Like Mahomet's, were a and LEZZE
To whom our knight, wat zist
Of wit and temper, vas à inst
As if hyprocrify and saniente

Had got th'avonica of as

Thus was he fet and

We mean on th mide, at the start.
That next of all we hail útists:

Then liften, Sirs, it follows to

His tawny beard was

Both of his willen and his face,
In cut and dye fo like a tie,
A fudden view it would begsie"
The upper part therest was wher
The nether orange min á with grap
This hairy meteor did deacan.DE
The fall of fceptres and of o
With grizly type did reprefent
Declining age of government ;
And tell with hieroglyphic pate

Its own grave and the Jutes were te

Like Samfon's heart-breakers, it grew
In time to make a nation rue;

Though it contributed its own fall,
To wait upon the public downfal.
It was monaftic, and did grow
In holy orders by strict vow;
Of rule as fullen and fevere,
As that of rigid Cordeliere:
"Twas bound to fuffer perfecution,
And martyrdom with refolution;
T'oppofe itself against the hate
And vengeance of the incenfed state:
In whofe defiance it was worn,

Still ready to be pull'd and torn,
With red-hot irons to be tortur'd,
Revil'd, and fpit upon, and martyr❜d.
Maugre all which, 'twas to ftand fast,
As long as monarchy fhould laft;
But when the state fhould hap to reel,
'Twas to fubmit to fatal steel,
And fall, as it was confecrate,
A facrifice to fall of state;

Whofe thread of life the fatal fifters
Did twift together with its whiskers,
And twine fo clofs, that time thould never,
In life or death, their fortunes fevere;
But with his rufty fickle mow
Both down together at a blow.

So learned Taliacotius, from
The brawny part of porter's bum,