Aaron's Cry to Moses.
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HElp help (dear brother) lest the reeling Ark,
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(Our peoples Lanthorn) fall into the dark;
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Uzzahs there are, who promise to assist,
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And help the same with an unhallowed fist:
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But they increase it's totterings; therefore what
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Can you give better, then an Ararat?
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You know how long this Sacred pledg has slept,
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'Mongst the Philistims, who per-force have kept
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This treasure; and would yet, but they were smitten,
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Bith' Emrods in the Rump; being thus bitten,
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Shoulders they shift: but 'tis our grief to see,
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No Temple for't, but Obeds Family.
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Our Mount is rail'd in by you; but this crue,
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Scorn's both your prohibitions, and you;
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'Tis not the Lightnings, nor, the Clapps within
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Can check th' incroaching croud, from this fine sinne;
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Rather then in the Lobby stand, they'l venture
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Their lives; if they cannot, their tongues will enter.
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From AEgypts bonds you brought us, we confess:
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Through Seas of blood, and a vast wilderness,
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Of intricate opinions; but your power,
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By prudence shrouded, is thought on no more;
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That being lost, the peoples greater half
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Would have us offer to their molten Calf.
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My Children too, within my proper view,
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Are wrapt in Guilt; Nadah and Abihu
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Offer strange fire; when th'are obliged both,
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By a tremendous Sacrament an Oath
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Of due obedience; see, see even these,
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Become the peoples hot incendiaries.
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Nor am I less tormented by a number,
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Of Levies Tribe, who equally encumber
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Our concord; who because men of renown:
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Conclude themselves not up, 'less we be down;
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Th' accomplices of Korah, and Abiram
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Less dreadfull are, then those of Adoniram.
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Our Ephod they dislike, our Garments too;
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Because the Gentiles suchlike things allow;
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Our Mitres do cornute us, as they say;
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Our Pectorall is rifled in the fray;
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Urim, and Thummim only they have left us:
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And of all but our honesties bereft us.
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The rapine of these Vultures who needs tell?
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Th' are perch'd on Altars as a Cittadel;
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Our hallowed Mosques, their Harpy mawes devour,
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From th' highest Pinacle, unto the floor;
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Vomit 'em, they'l eject things more defil'd,
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Then Xerxes Souldier, or Throgmortons Child.
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There goes one strutting; ask you who it is?
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'Tis one whose belly holds an aedifice:
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A mass of stone inter'd; o do not mock,
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The Church (you know) is builded on a Rock;
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But for to palliate this piece of folly,
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This weapon Salve cures all; oh! they were holy.
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Niobes Husband sure! his head the Steeple:
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The windowes are his eyes: and most good people
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Mistake his tongue for th' Bells: leggs, thighs, and all
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Compos'd of Pillars; feet their pedestall;
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All which by a new piece of Chymistry,
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Are calcin'd soon t' aurum potabile.
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In Summer season see how warm he goes,
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With freestone Doublet, and with Wainscot Hose;
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When he expires a thousand Tombes are pent,
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Within him; so he needs no Monument;
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We'd sent him had he not so quickly di'd,
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To Tripoly, where men are petrifi'd.
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Look where another goes, with Ribbs of Iron;
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Whom sacred barres, and bolts do all environ;
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Wherein (like Bajazet) there lies, despis'd,
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Encag'd, a Conscience sadly cauteriz'd.
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All which will serve as Fetters, for to hold,
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The Malefactors self, gasping for Gold.
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A Carpenter, seeking for Achans wedg,
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Streight spies it in the sinne of sacriledg;
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A Guilded, Carved Roof, and Cherubs too:
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He'l not to them, but they to him must bow;
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Heavens roof hee'd use thus, could he but reach higher,
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To gain such fewell for his zeals mad fire.
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Then comes an Atlas, wrapt in Webbs of Lead;
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Which once were Canopies to skreen the dead;
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It is a ductile minerall; perchance
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Silver by art, may be extracted thence;
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Thus all into projectors turned be
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From th' learn'd to th' plumbeous cerebrosity.
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Blest in the vitreous humor of his eye,
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Comes next a man, of great transparency;
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Brittle as the Church-windowes, which he hurl'd,
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Into the dark, to make a lightsome world;
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The Saints, which th[?] stood obvious to our sight,
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His single courage, put [']em all to flight.
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Here Crucifi'd our Saviour seem'd to dye:
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He breaks his bones, and confutes Prophesie;
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There stood a Church, which out at th' window flew
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And in it the whole Apostolick crue;
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Onely the Traitor Judas dos go free;
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For 'twixt them there is some affinity.
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Thus cruell he, with a destructive Broome,
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Sweeps them into a second Martyrdome;
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'Tis but new fashion'd kindness, you will say,
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Whilst he's their Charnel house, their Golgotha;
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The inquest's at an end: for here doth lye,
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One of the antient Anthropophagie.
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Long lookt for (see the rear) comes in at last:
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Who dos not like, therefore the Bells will cast;
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And make them ring too, their own dying knell
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An Ord'nance, into Ordnance, turns the Bell.
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Musick is out of date; but it may be,
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The strings may make such founders melody.
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Wonder to see what men, and time produce!
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Their bread, and clouted shooes procur'd a truce,
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Unto these Gibeonites, but now they take,
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Us for the Canaanites; for th' Socketts sake,
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They snuff our Candles: Vineyards prune for gain,
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As Caterpillars on green things remain.
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Thus have they ransackt every precious thing:
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That would but bear the charge of ruining;
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Like Spunges they have soakt: unlike in this
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They'l not refund: no Present present is:
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Twelve pence a piece: so justly may we dub,
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Their Contributions, but a Tavern club.
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This brood of envy, all things do displease;
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Our persons, office, and allowances;
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The firsts debauch'd: the next they do dislike:
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Because their waywardness it seeks to strike.
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The third is sinnefull too, for their lip-toil,
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Is not rewarded with the holy spoil.
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'Tis known to all, how these same ravnous Kites,
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Mute on us still; the Churches hetroclites;
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Puft into what they hold by vulgar cries;
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A bundle of irregularities;
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A forge where discords Engines hammer'd are:
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Though Lambskins cover Targets made for Warre.
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They stir themselves to wrath, against us raile,
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As the Lion smites himself with his own taile;
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We're black, they white as the Arabian Crow:
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Or if it is not, they will have it so;
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So far we're honest, just, and godly men,
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As we connive at, or encourage them.
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When we these crimes before them do display,
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They brook't, as Vagabonds, a lab'ring day.
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And lest our Canons, should their vices batter,
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They them dismount, and us with filth bespatter;
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We're half of what they say, on our side due:
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Padington long has wanted toll that's true.
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If we acquaint them with their lofty pride,
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Tell them of avarice, all is deni'd;
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Tax them with sacriledgsacriledge, and perjury,
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With Neighbours wrongs, and a cold charity:
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Informe them they have hurt, misled the Nation;
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These spots they cleans, by a recrimination.
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Tell them they op'd the sluce, at which flow'd in,
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That deluge of apostasie, and sinne,
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Heresie, schism, and blasphemy withall,
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That Oglio, of things Apocryphall;
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Tell this; to Heav'n their guiltless hands they'l lift
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So vain it is, to bring them to their shrift.
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They lige the Chineses, enlightned are;
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Whilst we alas! are but monocular;
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In all their guts, a Popedome sure doth lye:
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They onely have infallibility;
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Whilst we poor Moles lye groveling in the clay
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Gaping for lustre, from their brighter ray.
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Nor are they more at odds, with truth then peace;
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With them 'tis dolorous to lye at ease;
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Seditious discourses nowadaies.
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Gives a brave hogo to their Pulpit plaies;
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"Such men are slender wing'd, who do not flye,
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"And nestle, in the beard of Majesty.
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Fear God they may; and honour too the King:
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But not without the nice distinguishing,
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Of duty into nothing; such another,
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Is he who loves his God, and hates his Brother;
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Humane decrees to own, they are not free,
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Rather they'l adde to th' Martyrologie.
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Nothing but Scripture, o're them can commence
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An awfull, and observant reverence,
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And yet I've heard them, for their servants call
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To works, for which there is no rule at all;
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Both have their generall Charter, suffrag'd by,
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The dictates of divine authority;
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These are the rabbles Champions, who do throw,
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Coales from the Altar, to incense below
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Th' unkindled croud; that so their sullen cries,
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Might smoak the clearnesse of your Soveraign eyes.
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Late politicks teach, 'tis a way to get,
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To be a victim for the peoples pet.
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And is't not time (great Sir,) to call, when these
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Foment the multitudes dark jealousies?
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Yourself, with their squint treachery is prest:
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For through our sides, they wound your Royall brest;
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And shall we when our bowels gnaw'd we see
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Like Spartas youth, endure all silently?
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No, no; our duty calls, as well as smart,
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Our sufferings from our troublers to impart;
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Titus ne're sent Petitioners away,
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With furrowed fronts: nor you, as we hear say,
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Who live remote; we begg, your cause beggs too,
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Speedy assistance, from your Princely brow.
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Nothing else will that party gratifie,
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Unless with Jethros counsell you comply;
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And take a rule divided; when you pare,
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From your own loaf, these underlings may share;
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Whilst we this theorem, for certain give:
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Our priviledge, is your Prerogative
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Our whole request's for your encouragement,
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To execute our wholesome Laws intent;
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Thus shall that Ark, which scap't the inundation,
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Avoid that sorely threatned, conflagration;
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Your Scepter thrives, whilst on our rod you breath
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And our corrivals wear the Willow wreath.
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