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What meant those iron regiments which he brought,
That moving statues seem'd, and so they fought?
No way for death but by disease appear'd,
Cannon, and mines, and siege, they scarcely fear'd:
Till, 'gainst all hopes, they proved in this sad fight
Too weak to stand, and yet too slow for flight.
The Furies howl'd aloud through trembling air;
The' astonish'd snakes fell sadly from their hair:
To Lud's proud town their hasty flight they took,
The towers and temples at their entrance shook.
In vain their loss they attempted to disguise,
And mustered up new troops of fruitless lies:
God fought himself, nor could the' event be less;
Bright Conquest walks the fields in all her dress.
Could this white day a gift more grateful bring?
Oh yes! it brought bless'd Mary to the king!
In Keynton field they met; at once they view
Their former victory, and enjoy a new:
Keynton, the place that Fortune did approve,
To be the noblest scene of war and love.
Through the glad vale ten thousand Cupids fled,
And chased the wandering spirits of rebels dead;
Still the lewd scent of powder did they fear,
And scatter'd eastern smells through all the air.
Look, happy mount! look well! for this is she,
That toil'd and travell'd for thy victory:
Thy flourishing head to her with reverence bow;
To her thou owest that fame which crowns thee now.
From far-stretch'd shores they felt her spirit and
Princes and God at any distance fight. [might;
At her return well might she a conquest have!
Whose
very absence such a conquest gave.—
This in the West; nor did the North bestow
Less cause their usual gratitude to show:

With much of state brave Cavendish led them forth, As swift and fierce as tempest from the north; Cavendish whom every Grace, and

every

Muse,

Kiss'd at his birth, and for their own did choose:
So good a wit they meant not should excel
In arms; but now they see't, and like it well:
So large is that rich empire of his heart,
Well may they rest contented with a part.
How soon he forced the northern clouds to flight,
And struck confusion into form and light!
Scarce did the Power Divine in fewer days
A peaceful world out of a chaos raise.

Bradford and Leeds propp'd up their sinking fame;
They bragged of hosts, and Fairfax was a name.
Leeds, Bradford, Fairfax' powers are straight their
As quickly as they vote men overthrown: [own,
Boötes from his wain look'd down below,

And saw our victory move not half so slow.
I see the gallant earl break through the foes;
In dust and sweat how gloriously he shows!
I see him lead the pikes; what will he do?
Defend him, Heaven! oh, whither will he go?
Up to the cannon's mouth he leads! in vain
They speak loud death, and threaten, till they're
ta'en.

So Capaneus two armies fill'd with wonder,
When he charged Jove, and grappled with his thun-

der:

Both hosts with silence and with terror shook,
As if not he, but they, were thunder-strook.
The courage here, and boldness, was no less;
Only the cause was better, and success.
Heaven will let nought be by their cannon done,
Since at Edgehill they sinned, and Burlington.

Go now, your silly calumnies repeat,

And make all papists whom you cannot beat! Let the world know some way, with whom you're vex'd,

And vote them Turks when they o'erthrow you next!
Why will you die, fond men! why will you buy
At this fond rate your country's slavery?
Is 't liberty? What are those threats we hear'?
Why do
you thus the old and new prison fill?
When that's the only why; because you will?
Fain would you make God too thus tyrannous be,
And damn poor men by such a stiff decree.
Is 't property? Why do such numbers, then,
From God beg vengeance, and relief from men?
Why are the' estates and goods seized-on, of all
Whom covetous or malicious men miscall?
What's more our own than our own lives? But oh
Could Yeomans or could Bourchier find it so?
The barbarous coward, always used to fly,
Did know no other way to see men die.
Or is 't religion? What then mean your lies,
Your sacrileges, and pulpit blasphemies?
Why are all sects let loose that ere had birth,
Since Luther's noise waked the lethargic Earth?
The Author went no further.

THE PURITAN AND THE PAPIST.

A SATIRE.

So two rude waves, by storms together thrown, Roar at each other, fight and then grow one. Religion is a circle; men contend,

And run the round in dispute, without end:

5 A line is here evidently wanting; but the defect is in all the copies hitherto known.

Now, in a circle, who go contrary,

Must, at the last, meet of necessity.
The Roman Catholic, to advance the cause,
Allows a lie, and calls it pia fraus ;
The Puritan approves and does the same,
Dislikes nought in it but the Latin name:
He flows with his devices, and dares lie
In very deed, in truth, and verity.

He whines, and sighs out lies with so much ruth,
As if he grieved 'cause he could ne'er speak truth.
Lies have possess'd the press so, as their due,
'Twill scarce, I fear, henceforth print Bibles true.
Lies for their next strong fort ha' the' pulpit chose;
There they throng out at the' preacher's mouth and
And, howe'er gross, are certain to beguile [nose,
The poor book-turners of the middle isle ;

Nay, to the' Almighty's self they have been bold
To lie; and their blasphemous minister told,
They might say false to God; for if they were
Beaten, he knew't not, for he was not there.
But God, who their great thankfulness did see,
Rewards them straight with another victory,
Just such an one as Brentford; and, sans doubt,
Will weary, ere 't be long, their gratitude out.
Not all the legends of the saints of old,
Not vast Baronius, nor sly Surius, hold
Such plenty of apparent lies as are

In you own author, Jo. Browne Cleric. Par.
Besides what your small poets said or writ,
Brookes, Strode, and the baron of the saw-pit:
With many a mental reservation,

You'll maintain liberty:-Reserved “ your own," For the public good the sums raised you'll disburse; -Reserved "the greater part, for your own purse."

You'll root the Cavaliers out, every man ;
-Faith, let it be reserved here "if ye can."
You'll make our gracious Charles a glorious king;
-Reserved" in Heaven"-for thither ye would
His royal head; the only secure room [bring
For kings; where such as you will never come.
To keep the' estates o' the' subjects you pretend;
-Reserved "in your own trunks." You will defend
The Church of England, 'tis your protestation;
But that's "New"-England by a small reservation.
Power of dispensing oaths the Papists claim;
Case hath got leave of God to do the same :
For you do hate all swearing so, that when

You've sworn an oath, ye break it straight again.
A curse upon you! which hurts most these nations,
Cavaliers' swearing, or your protestations?
Nay, though oaths be by you so much abhorr'd,
You' allow" God damn me" in the Puritan Lord.
They keep the Bible from laymen; but ye
Avoid this, for ye have no laity.

They in a foreign and unknown tongue pray,
You in an unknown sense your prayers say;
So that this difference 'twixt you does ensue,-
Fools understand not them, not wise men you.
They an unprofitable zeal have got

Of invocating saints, that hear them not:
"Twere well you did so; nought may more be fear'd,
In your fond prayers, than that they should be
heard.

To them your nonsense well enough might pass,
They'd ne'er see that i' the' divine looking-glass.
Nay, whether you'd worship saints is not known,
For ye 'ave as yet, of your religion, none.
They by good-works think to be justified:
You into the same error deeper slide;

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