Selected quad for the lemma: love_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A36963
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Collin's walk through London and VVestminster a poem in burlesque / written by T.D.
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D'Urfey, Thomas, 1653-1723.
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1690
(1690)
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Wing D2710; ESTC R20081
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56,766
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222
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sences Drown those that come to their Defences When if they would leave off their plunging They might be freed from watry Dungeon So I perhaps befriending thee May bring my self to jeopardy Dost thou not see thou lump of Nature Thou ill contriv'd unfinish'd Creature What Ruines this late turn has made By Taxes and by loss of Trade When still the weight of Court Ambition Falls most on those of thy condition T is their tough hands must help the Cause Their Labours back the Church and Laws Else all the Trooping Men of Blood 'T is thought would do but little good Had it not for us better been If th' Pope or Devil himself came in Than thus to involve our selves in War And plunge our Souls in endless Care By heedless emptying of our Purses Make all our Wives and Children curse us And all these rowling mischiefs gather For conscience yet have none on 't neither Did not a Doctor t'other day That since has been forbid to Pray Declare the War to us would bring More ills than any Romish King And tho he now is Silenc'd for 't The Phrase was pithy tho 't was short And many more of the same Mould That Orthodox Opinion hold Which tho they Mouth it not in Halls Is frequent in their close Cabals Where they whole Kingdoms with delight Turn topsy turvy every Night But thou because thy poring Head Has learnt to set a mark and read Canst tell when Sheep are to be shorn And brush the Mildew from green Corn Because thy Father as I hear Was thought to be a Conjurer Dar'st to our Party give offence With dull Inervate fumbling sense And on wrong side thy self discover When I have pray'd thee to come over Quoth Collin That I am a fumbler In Wit 's as true as you are a grumbler Yet dare affirm tho with submission You are as bad a Politician Dreams Whimsies and unquiet Brains In all your buzzing Party reigns Which makes ye argue rail and fight And think y' are always in the right When I can prove substantially There 's none of ye so Just as I For my Religion is not known That yet I e're did plainly own Yet am so far your Churches friend I can her principles defend Gainst all would break or make a flaw In Creeds Establish'd by the Law In all revolves and turns of State Decreed by what d ee call him Fate What 's War but an Extream to try To do the Nation Justice by When the Necessity o' th' Cause Exacts Defence of Church and Laws For who dares boldly own a Church That dares to leave her in the lurch Pretend he 's willing to ensure her Yet grudge at Taxes to secure her As if he thought she could not want Aid to her Title Militant But was her self so mighty grown To fight her Battels out alone Whilst all the while the fewds occurred Because perhaps y' are not preferred The Nation 's in a lost condition Because y' have lost your late Commission Or that the Senate takes occasion To question some late Court Relation You 'd seem to abhor Popery Yet hate that any Change should be Neglect the Souls Divine Profession By scrupling Temporal Succession Destroy your Peace and Countries both By kecking at th' Allegiance Oath And tho the English Church you own Still do your best to run her down Whilst I the Lump th'unfinish'd Cripple Prove more the Champion of the People Discovering of a firm neglect Of all your stubborn grumbling sect I Popery thrash as with a flayle And tell a plain and open Tale Whose bare-fac'd Reason soon shall be The bane of all Priest Sophistry Confute their q Baptism Confirmations Their Matrimonial Consecrations Their Eucharist Orders Extream Unction Their Pennance too that worst Injunction With all the other Foppish Geer As easily as drink this Beer When you that should perform all this Since that Religion you profess In grumbling clubs your rancour shew And now would have me do so too The Major at this devilish shock Look'd red as any Turky-cock And spite of all his subtle Arts Quite dash'd and stun'd at Collins parts But on a sudden recollecting And slyly knowing the neglecting Of what was said would look most wise After a fleer or two replys Quoth he when ere thou get'st half mellow Thou art the plaguiest little fellow The soundest Arguments in vain Attempt to storm thy Pericrane No proof tho ne're so much in season Can ever bring thee to hear Reason For as 't is vain to grease their Chops With dainties that are fill'd with Scraps So bitts of Logick here and there Quirks and old Saws which thou dost hear Cram thy conceited brain so full T is sense lost to trepan thy scull Thy prick-ear'd Sire taught fallacy Andth ou by nat'ral Industry Framing a Lye canst make it prov'd Art's Cousin Germain once remov'd For tho thou twit'st me with my pause Of Action in the Churches cause My grumbling at th' unquiet times Taxes and disobedient Crimes And slyly wouldst thy self imply A better friend to th' State than I I le prove that know the Cheat too well Thou' rt of a sect us'd to rebel A Canter an assembly Man A true blew Presbyterian And sometimes as the Saints agree A Quaker for variety I know thou canst our cause dispute Thou can'st but didst thou ever do 't Vast odds there is to either faction Betwixt capacity and action Strong Decrement and difference too Between I can do 't and I do Have I not known this many years Thy Love to th' Tribe with the long Ears Where primming Sister Aunt or Coz Tune their warm Zeal with Hum and Buz And bobtail'd Rogues are zealous at it On purpose to affront the Statute Did I not hear thee splutter once Because one call'd Hugh Peters dunce And swear that Chaplain of Old Noll Out-preach'd the Bishops at White-Hall That Baxter's call to th' Unconverted Had force even on the marble hearted Nay in unhappy I s's days Thou didst or I 'me mistaken praise His acts of Grace who stil'd ye Friends Because ye suited to his Ends And knew to ruin th' Churches hope Rather than them you 'd bring the Pope How comes I fain would know th' Abuses The jarring late between the Houses But by your party Synogoguish Not half so Politique as Roguish That for their Interest or for Hire Make Brands to set us all on fire Yet thou a little shrub or worse A block for one to mount a Horse A Hodge-podge of the Sciences Design'd by fate in wits disgrace Darest with bold confidence direct me And tho my Vassals contradict me Quoth Collin Tho I am your Tenant Take heed how you affront the Senate And so by Testy Will misled Bring an old House upon your head As for my self what 's said of me My Person or Rusticity It only gives me leave to guess The force of your uneasiness Shrub or what else to me 's the same If men can know me by
extolling When reeking Brother has been bawling A Lecture against Bawds and Whores Brothels unclean and lewd Amours Affirming th' Bishops did appear Like Baals Priests to him stood there That such firm Doctrin nere was read of Tho Dr. H. shake his Head off Look sowrer than the Switzer Cantons And thrash his Parish to Repentance And yet in midst of all thy Zeal For the Old Cause and Common-weal Tho all thy Wits so harrass'd were To make a Rabbi of a Player And th' Error very like to make Thy twice drub'd Bones a third time ake By being expos'd to Fops and Cullies Spruce Cittizens and Flustred Bulleis Yet in this juncture to be drawn Thence by a Whore and left in pawn To leave spiritual Intentions To follow carnal vile Inventions With Common Trader hold Discourse And so unguarded leave thy Purse Nay be so ill contriv'd a Block-head As not to know she pick'd thy Pocket Is meer Enthusiasm and to me Shews th' Nature of Presbitery Whom Interest and sometimes Whoring Still vary from devout Adoring And tho like Saints they seem to be Are all in Corners just like thee Quoth Collin he that once is down On th' Earth no further can be thrown Unless into his Grave and there I zealously could wish I were Not for your sharp Rebukes or Taunts For those are common to the Saints But for th' abuse of couzening Female Fram'd for Confusion sure of the Male And moulded to allay the Joys Without her found in Paradise Some twenty Winters since or more Ere yet my Child-hood was past ore One Evening to my Fathers House Came a Young Tawny tatter'd Blowse Her Skin shew'd just that coulour'd Vellam That Wallnuts give to those that shell'em And at her Back a Kid that cry'd Still as she pinch'd it fast was ty'd With which and wild Egyptian Jabbering She got her Living without Labouring She in all Fortunes good or bad Pretented she strange Knowledge had Could foretel loss of Maiden-heads And Husbands give to longing Maids And for a Tester given declare What Colour and what Size they were She 'd tell by Lines in your left Hand Whither you 'd sell or purchase Land What sort of Mischief should undoo Man Whither by Trading or by Woman Or if your Constitution were Fitter to Marry or forbear Then as you did more Mony give her Told things to come if you 'd believe her By Dimples ragged Warts and Moles Declar'd the Secrets of your Souls And to all Questions hit so right The Country took her for a Spright This Succubus or Demi-devil Foretold to me my late past Evil That in the Year of forty one Which now my present Age I own My Fate was fix'd to be seduc'd And by a strange Cleft Monster chows'd Which still I thought was ment by Witches Wild Mares She Monkies or Mad Bitches But in my Heart could nere believe A Sister such a Devil since Eve For that she was one of our Tribe Her Gesture and her Tone describe Nor did her other Actions less Discover she was one of us The Saints oft take it for no failing When Youth and Vigor are prevailing Friendly to meet a Zealous Brother And heartily Caress each other When the Intreague from neither draws Shame or discredit to the Cause At worst 't is but a venial Evil But to pick Pockets that 's the Devil The Sisters such abhorrence make Of Theft they rather give than take And oftner pay for the Exploit Than rob our Purses of a Doit Therefore this late amphibious Beast Was sure the Spawn of some lewd Priest Some Rampant Scoundrel Romish Prig Begot her on a Female Whig And taught her to be Mercenary And Spanniel like to fetch and carry How well this Passage gives occasion To Argue for Predestination Some destin'd are to loss of Crowns Others Repute and twenty Pounds Which is the same to me as them A Kingdom and a Diadem And every other thing must be Persuant to a first Decree For had it on free Will consisted Purse had been here and I not mist it My Reputation too had been As it was wont to be serene Whereas in spite of my Complaints I 'm now a Scandal to the Saints Exposing in this sort my Honour For being taken in the manner The foulness of my late Transgression Being most the want of my Discretion Crimes still are Mischiefs we expose But that 's no fault that no one knows Especially when it is done Against any pow'r below the Moon For as in Felony no Thief Whose Stars allow him no reprieve We find was ever hang'd for stealing But for not luckily concealing So 'mongst the Saints none 's disrespected For failings but for being detected The Mischiefs of all Faults unknown Being no more than Thoughts undone How truly Happy had I been If I this Town had never seen But in the Country held the Plow And prepar'd Land to Till and Sow Secur'd my Goods or Coyn from stealing And the Saints frailties from revealing There in a state of Innocence We meet and Act without Offence No vile Detractor interloping Nor any itching Spy Eves dropping But Cordial Love and Amity Affect both high and low Degree The Brethren with the Sisters prove By fervent Acts their zealous Love And constantly deserve Applause For th' earnest pushing on the Cause Whilst here in this Satanick Town Rude Carters live to knock Men down One walks in fear to lose ones Beard By Rogues Intituled the Black-Guard And if you ere expound a Text To any of the Female Sex 'T is ten to one you meet a Creature Of so deprav'd and vile a Nature As this my late and worst of Whores That the same time she grasps your Purse Shall by a Trick as strange as true Deprive ye of your Mony too Therefore good Major as you made me Come hither do not now disswade me From instant leaving this vile place Where I can't live but in disgrace Where if I tarry I suppose I shall to morrow lose my Nose For Purse was quite as near to me And yet 't is stoln from me you see In th' Honest Country I was born And to that Station must return Where I can Things and People find Suiting the plainness of my Mind I ought to talk of Hogs and Cows Rather than Laws of th' Commons House For bold aspiring after Fame Has brought me to the Case I am And whither Grumbler or the Whig Are wiser in their Grand Intreague I 'l leave to you that Love disputes And instantly draw on my Boots Then Trot off from this Town of Sorrow More Vile then Sodom or Gomorrow This said half tumbling o're the Chairs For hast Poor Collin got down Stairs Resolving from the Town in Post To ride within an hour at most But how the Major stop'd his speed Is for our second part decreed The End of the Fourth Canto ANNOTATIONS TO THE FIRST CANTO OF THE FIRST PART a ABdieation being a Word that has so unexpectedly been thought