Selected quad for the lemma: religion_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A63369
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Loyal poems and satyrs upon the times since the beginning of the Salamanca plot written by several hands ; collected by M.T.
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Taubman, Matthew, d. 1690?
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1685
(1685)
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Wing T245; ESTC R10358
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49,198
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138
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no Foe but still she felt a wound The bleeding Dear thus trembling stands at bay But can't find where the close hid Archer lay As on the winding Banks and watery Maze Where fam'd Meander cuts her crooked ways The lost distracted Traveller doth gaze At last kind Fate or Providence doth bring The poor Despairing Soul unto the Spring So some kind Angel genius of this Isle VVhere peace alass with thee cou'd never smile Hath taught us now to make her flourish still Shew'n us the hidden source of all her Ill Reason the Plummet with the Line shall be Both stretch'd to Fathom and to measure thee Lead throw the Labyrinth of all thy tricks All the wild Mazes of thy Politicks THE Whig Caball TH' sullen night worn threadbare when I lay Expecting the Approach of Early Day Such Loyal thoughts did in my Bosom rage As drew my Curses on this Factious Age With tears I mourn'd our sinking Countrys Fate And shadow'd glory of the Royal State Till slumbering at the last a glimmering Light Methought was shown to my Mysterious Sight When I descry'd a Treasonous damn'd Caball Hells mounting Engines that wou'd sink us all And rise upon our King and Countrys fall Dark were their Looks and knowingly I saw Villains they were and such as fled the Law Printers and those who had abus'd the times Religion was their Cloak to hide their Crimes Envious as Eiends like Hells Divan they sate What wou'd Hell more to ruin Church and State So vile as these it never cou'd appear Had the great Whigland Lucifer been there When in an abrupt Voice I heard one Cry Rome's Idoll York shan't gorge our Liberty Rowz up my friends our Ruin's more then fear'd Their Bulls do roar so lowd we can't be heard With that he paus'd then said with much Distress What shall we do the Tyde of our Success Now seems to Ebb nor can we hope for less For even those will now believe no more Our shams who judg'd them Miracles before Interest 's our hook and Freedom is the Bait Bondage but nam'd you 'l see Rebellion Straight Each weak pretence deceives the Easy Crowd With them 't is Law what is by us allow'd But shallow are our Plots to searching Eyes They see what Mischeifs at the Bottom Lyes Our Sh'riffs and Juryes for their ends applause With Ignormaus Riots prop our Cause They doubt of peace from those that break the Laws There our Designes are Desp'rat and so crost Bold the Attempt must be to gain what 's lost Zealous Rebellion must secure us all We cannot fail while we pretend a Call With that like Fiends they Vanish'd and I woke Whilst all amaz'd and troubled thus I spoke O wretched Land how prov'd thy cureing vain Sign thy old wound is breaking out again The whole's Endanger'd by th' Infected part But Heav'n instruct our great Physitians Art There 's one way left to heal this desp'rat Wound Out off the Rotten for to save the Sound Were there no Cause for this now needful blow Religious peace then throwgh the Land wou'd Flow So Jehu Sion purg'd and faith did grow But let 's unite with pious Joy to sing Health to the best to Englands gracious King Blest may he bee his Queen and Royall Bed And bless great James whilst all their Foes ly Dead So we at last shall bruise the Serpents Head THE Presbyterian Club AS 'tother day Dick Harry Tom and I At th' Tavern sate in wine and mirth rais'd high As round the Boord the Chearful Brimmer went And Charles his health was drunk with one Consent The Duke of Tork's by Birthright next Ensu'd Confusion to all those who wou'd Exclude Thus went the Claret round till up the stairs The Drawer came laden with Stools and Chairs His Burthen thrice he did renew when I To satisfy my Curiosity Asking the Reason of his Task was told The Saints to night a Canventicle hold The Room was large well stor'd with Chairs Stools Pitty 't was to be fill'd anon with Fools We Torys big with Expectation wait As well to see 'em as to hear 'em prate When usher'd up in long procession came Baxter with many more too long to name Their looks their dress was such you wou'd have thought They really had practis'd what they taught VVith starch lawn Band and hats right gravely set Had you but seen 'em you had thought they 'd met There to set up a thorow Reformation VVhen 't was it seems only for Recreation Now round the Table all in Order sate Baxter at th' upper end as chief in State For Pride is to th' Elect as natural As to the Devil 't was before his fall Mean while the Brethren drink till warm with wine They all to Treasonable talk encline And in each glass the Kings Destruction vow The King nere more their Enemy than now Thus still the Zealous glass went round whom one VVith lift up hands and gogling Eyes begun I thought him by his Bawling Farringdon Half drunk to make a Godly speech and cry Oh Lord When will thou put an end to Tyranny When wilt thou free us from our Tyrants hands And settle on us all the Bishops Lands For tho Lawn Sleeves and Gowns are an offence We with the Churches Livings cou'd dispence Nay verily I think I cou'd submit To any thing but Popery to get The Diocess of Winchester I say I wou'd the Churches liveing were our prey Nay I pray dayly God wou'd make 'em so For I have little else with Prayer to do And tho the K. good Man be vainly lead i th' crooked path of Wickedness to tread 'T is Charity to wish the Tyrant Dead Wou'd he were mounting nay I wish he were Already crown'd in his Triumphant Chair That he from thence might see us act below Deeds that our once Lov'd Cromwell shall outdo Such deeds as even his Ghost shall fear to see While Satan trembles at our Tyranny Least coming thither we their Peace destroy And with intestin VVars his Relms annoy Least we by force shou'd their old Laws repeal And spight of Empire for a Common-weal Thus spake the Reverend Pimp with sober hum They as amazement had 'em all struct dumb Did silently applaud the speech whilst he As in Arrears did swallow Brimmers three And now the hour of ten drew nigh 't was time To part least staying prove a Godly crime Then being drunk for all of 'em were so B r himself cou'd not uprightly go Tho' he had much the odds of all the rest Who in 's sheeps Cloathing fed a greedy Beast Making the Scripture Prophecy prove good Which ne're till now was rightly understood Thus they and time it was the house Depart For I their Absence wish'd with all my heart Thus do the Saints solace themselves and thus They act those Crimes which they abhor in us THE True Presbyterian Without Disguise A Presbyter is such a Monstrous thing That Loves Democrasy and hates a King For Royal Issue