While honour, virtue, piety, bear sway, Stand now and judge thyself-Hast thou incurr'd 330 335 341 345 Hast thou not learn'd, what thou art often told, 350 355 To quell the valour of the stoutest heart, And teach the combatant a woman's part? That he bids thousands fly where none pursue, 360 Saves as he will by many or by few, Th' event and sure decision of the fight? Hast thou, tho' suckled at fair Freedom's breast, But left their virtues and thine own behind? And having truck'd thy soul, brought home the fee, Hast thou by statute shov'd from its design The Saviour's feast, his own bless'd bread and wine, And made the symbols of atoning grace 365 370 375 An office-key, a picklock to a place, 380 And though a bishop toil to cleanse the stain, He wipes and scours the silver cup in vain. 385 And hast thou sworn on ev'ry slight pretence, Till perjuries are common as bad pence, While thousands, careless of the damning sin, Kiss the book's outside, who ne'er look'd within? Hast thou, when Heav'n has cloth'd thee with dis grace, 390 And long provok'd, repaid thee to thy face, And never of a sabler hue than now,) 395 Hast thou with heart perverse and conscience sear'd, Despising all rebuke, still persever'd, And having chosen evil, scorn'd the voice That cried, Repent!-and glorieď in thy chrice ? Thy fastings, when calamity at last 400 Suggests th' expedient of a yearly fast, What mean they? Canst thou dream there is a pow'r In lighter diet at a later hour, To charm to sleep the threat'ning of the skies, And hide past folly from all-seeing eyes? 405 The fast that wins deliverance, and suspends The stroke that a vindictive God intends, Is to renounce hypocrisy; to draw Thy life upon the pattern of the law; To war with pleasure, idoliz'd before ; 410 To vanquish lust, and wear its yoke no more. All fasting else, whate'er be the pretence, Is wooing mercy by renew'd offence. Hast thou within thee sin, that in old time Brought fire from Heav'n, the sex-abusing crime, 415 Suffering the vengeance of eternal fire; 420 Unveil'd her blushing cheek, look'd on, and smil'd; 425 Beheld with joy the lovely scene defac'd, And prais'd the wrath that laid her beauties waste. Far be the thought from any verse of mine, And farther still the form'd and fix'd design, To thrust the charge of deeds, that I detest, 430 The man that dares traduce, because he can An individual is a sacred mark 435 The priestly brotherhood, devout, sincere, From mean self-int'rest and ambition clear, Their hope in Heav'n, servility their scorn, 440 Their wisdom pure, and giv'n them from above, As meek as the man Moses, and withal As bold as, in Agrippa's presence, Paul, 4.15 Should fly the world's contaminating touch, Where shall a teacher look, in days like these, 450 For ears and hearts that he can hope to please? Speak but the word, will listen and return, 455 460 Where beck'ning Pleasure leads them, wildly stray, 165 Review thy dim original and prime. This island, spot of unreclaim'd rude earth, 470 And Danish howlings scar'd thee as they pass'd; While yet thou wast a grov'ling puling chit, Thy bones not fashion'd, and thy joints not knit, 475 The Roman taught thy stubborn knee to bow, When the sun's shafts disperse the gloom of night. It sparkles with the gems he left behind: He brought thy land a blessing when he came; Needs only to be seen to be admir'd ; But thine, as dark as witch'ries of the night, 480 485 490 Was form'd to harden hearts and shock the sight; 495 And while the victim slowly bled to death, Babbler of ancient fables, leaves a doubt But still light reach'd thee; and those gods of thine, Woden and Thor, each tottering in his shrine, 505 Fell, broken and defac'd at his own door, As Dagon in Philistia long before. But Rome with sorceries and magick wand Soon rais'd a cloud, that darken'd ev'ry land; And thine was smother'd in the stench and fog 510 Of Tiber's marshes and the papal bog. Then priests with bulls, and briefs, and shaven crowns And griping fists, and unrelenting frowns, |