129:01,000[' ]| 129:01,000[' ]| 129:01,000[' ]| 129:01,000[' ]| 129:01,000[' ]| 129:01,000[' ]| 129:01,000[' ]| 129:01,001[' ]| Of the old heroes when the warlike shades 129:01,002[' ]| Saw Douglas marching on$4$ the Elysian glades, 129:01,003[' ]| They straight consulting gathered in$4$ a ring 129:01,004[' ]| Which$6#1$ of their poets should his welcome sing, 129:01,005[' ]| And (as a favourable penance) chose 129:01,006[' ]| Cleveland on$4$ whom they would the task impose. 129:01,007[' ]| He understood and willingly addressed 129:01,008[' ]| His ready muse to$9$ court the warlike guest. 129:01,009[' ]| Much had he cured the humour of his vein: 129:01,010[' ]| He judged more clearly now and saw more plain. 129:01,011[' ]| For$3$ those soft airs had tempered every thought, 129:01,012[' ]| And of wise Lethe he had took a draught. 129:01,013[' ]| Abruptly he began disguising art, 129:01,014[' ]| As of his Satyr this had been a part. 129:01,015[' ]| Not so$5#2$ brave Douglas, on$4$ whose lovely chin 129:01,016[' ]| The early down but newly did begin, 129:01,017[' ]| And modest beauty yet his sex did veil, 129:01,018[' ]| Whilst envious virgins hope he is a male. 129:01,019[' ]| His shady locks curl back themselves to$9$ seek 129:01,020[' ]| Nor other courtship knew but to$4$ his cheek. 129:01,021[' ]| Oft as he in$4$ chill Esk or Seine by$4$ night 129:01,022[' ]| Hardened and cooled those limbs so$5#1$ soft, so$5#1$ white, 129:01,023[' ]| Among the reeds to$9$ be espied by$4$ him 129:01,024[' ]| The nymphs would rustle, he would forward swim 129:01,025[' ]| They sighed and said, 129:01,025@x | 'Fond boy, why so$5#1$ untame, 129:01,026@x | That$3$ fliest Love's fires reserved for$4$ other flame?' 129:01,027[' ]| Fixed on$4$ his ship he faced the horrid day 129:01,028[' ]| And wondered much at those that$6#1$ run away, 129:01,029[' ]| Nor other fear himself cold comprehend 129:01,030[' ]| Than lest Heaven fall before thither he ascend. 129:01,031[' ]| With birding at the Dutch, as though in$4$ sport, 129:01,032[' ]| He entertains the while his life too short, 129:01,033[' ]| Or waves his sword and, Could he them conjure, 129:01,034[' ]| Within its circle knows himself secure. 129:01,035[' ]| The fatal bark him boards with grappling fire 129:01,036[' ]| And safely through its ports the Dutch retire. 129:01,037[' ]| That$6#2$ precious life he yet disdains to$9$ save 129:01,038[' ]| Or with known art to$9$ try the gentle wave. 129:01,039[' ]| Much him the glories of his ancient race 129:01,040[' ]| Inspire, nor could he his own deeds deface 129:01,041[' ]| And secret joy in$4$ his own soul doth rise 129:01,042[' ]| That$3$ Monk looks on$5$ to$9$ see how Douglas dies. 129:01,043[' ]| Like$4$ a glad lover the fierce flames he meets 129:01,044[' ]| And tries his first embraces in$4$ their sheets. 129:01,045[' ]| His shape exact which$6#1$ the bright flames enfold 129:01,046[' ]| Like$4$ the sun's statue stands of burnished gold. 129:01,047[' ]| Round the transparent fire about him glows 129:01,048[' ]| As the clear amber on$4$ the bee doth close 129:01,049[' ]| And as on$4$ angel's head their glories shine 129:01,050[' ]| His burning locks adorn his face divine. 129:01,051[' ]| But when in$4$ his immortal mind he felt 129:01,052[' ]| His altered form and soldered limbs to$9$ melt, 129:01,053[' ]| Down on$4$ the deck he laid him down and died 129:01,054[' ]| With his dear sword reposing by$4$ his side, 129:01,055[' ]| And on$4$ his flaming planks so$5#2$ rests his head 129:01,056[' ]| As one that$6#1$ hugs himself in$4$ a warm bed. 129:01,057[' ]| The ship burns down and with his relics sinks, 129:01,058[' ]| And the sad stream beneath his ashes drinks. 129:01,059[' ]| Fortunate boy, if ever my verse may claim 129:01,060[' ]| That$6#2$ matchless grace to$9$ propagate thy fame, 129:01,061[' ]| When Oeta and Alcides are forgot, 129:01,062[' ]| Our English youth shall sing the valiant Scot. 129:01,063[' ]| Skip saddles : Pegasus thou needst not Brag, 129:01,064[' ]| Sometimes the galloway proves the better nag. 129:01,065[' ]| Shall not a death so$5#1$ generous now when told 129:01,066[' ]| Unite our distance, fill the breaches old? 129:01,067[' ]| Such in$4$ the Roman forum Curtius brave 129:01,068[' ]| Galloping down closed up$5$ the gaping cave. 129:01,069[' ]| No$2$ more discourse of Scotch or English race 129:01,070[' ]| Nor chant the fabulous hunt of Chivy Chase: 129:01,071[' ]| Mixed in$4$ Corinthian metal at thy flame, 129:01,072[' ]| Our nations, melting, thy Colossus frame, 129:01,073[' ]| Shall fix a foot on$4$ either neighbouring shore 129:01,074[' ]| And join those lands that$6#1$ seemed to$9$ part before. 129:01,075[' ]| Prick down the point whoever has the art 129:01,076[' ]| Where Nature Scotland doth from England part. 129:01,077[' ]| Anatomists may sooner fix the cells 129:01,078[' ]| Where life resides or understanding dwells; 129:01,079[' ]| But this we know, though that$6#2$ exceed their skill, 129:01,080[' ]| That$3$ whosoever separates them doth kill. 129:01,081[' ]| What ethic river is this wondrous Tweed 129:01,082[' ]| Whose one bank virtue, the other vice doth breed? 129:01,083[' ]| Or what new perpendicular doth rise 129:01,084[' ]| Up$5$ from her stream continued to$4$ the skies, 129:01,085[' ]| That$6#1$ between us the common airs should bar 129:01,086[' ]| And split the influence of every star? 129:01,087[' ]| But who$6#1$ considers well will$1$ find indeed 129:01,088[' ]| It is Holy Island parts us not the Tweed. 129:01,089[' ]| Nothing but clergy could us two seclude: 129:01,090[' ]| No$2$ Scotch was ever like$4$ a bishops' feud. 129:01,091[' ]| All litanies in$4$ this have wanted faith: 129:01,092[' ]| There is no$2$ 'deliver us from a bishop's wrath'. 129:01,093[' ]| Never shall Calvin pardoned be for$4$ Sales, 129:01,094[' ]| Never for$4$ Burnet's sake the Lauderdales, 129:01,095[' ]| For$4$ Beckett's sake Kent always shall have tails. 129:01,096[' ]| Who$8$ sermons ever can pacify and prayers? 129:01,097[' ]| Or to$4$ the joint stools reconcile the chairs? 129:01,098[' ]| Nothing, not bogs, not sands, not seas, not alps, 129:01,099[' ]| Separate the world so$5#2$ as the bishops' scalps. 129:01,100[' ]| Stretch for$4$ your line their surcingle alone, 129:01,101[' ]| It will$1$ make a more inhabitable zone. 129:01,102[' ]| The friendly lodestone hath not more combined 129:01,103[' ]| Than bishops cramped the commerce of mankind. 129:01,104[' ]| A bishop will$1$ like$4$ Mahomet tear the moon 129:01,105[' ]| And slip one half into his sleeve as soon. 129:01,106[' ]| The juggling prelate on$4$ his hocus calls, 129:01,107[' ]| Shows you first one, then makes that$6#2$ one two balls. 129:01,108[' ]| Instead of all the plagues had bishops come, 129:01,109[' ]| Pharaoh at first would have sent Israel home. 129:01,110[' ]| From church they need not censure men away, 129:01,111[' ]| A bishop's self is an anathema. 129:01,112[' ]| Where foxes' dung their earths, the badgers yield: 129:01,113[' ]| At bishops' dung the foxes quit the field. 129:01,114[' ]| Their rank ambition all this heat hath stirred: 129:01,115[' ]| A bishop' rennet makes the strongest curd. 129:01,116[' ]| How reverend things are 'lord', lawn sleeves and ease! 129:01,117[' ]| How a clean laundress and no$2$ sermons please. 129:01,118[' ]| They wanted zeal and learning, so$5#2$ mistook 129:01,119[' ]| The Bible and grammar for$4$ the service book. 129:01,120[' ]| Religion has the world too long depraved: 129:01,121[' ]| A shorter way is to$9$ be by$4$ clergy saved. 129:01,122[' ]| Believe but only as the Church believes 129:01,123[' ]| And learn to$9$ pin your faith upon$4$ their sleeves. 129:01,124[' ]| Ah! like$4$ Lot's wife they still look back and halt 129:01,125[' ]| And surpliced show like$4$ pillars too of salt. 129:01,126[' ]| Who$6#2$ that$6#1$ is wise would pulpit toil endure? 129:01,127[' ]| A bishopric is a great sinecure. 129:01,128[' ]| Enough for$4$ them, God knows, to$9$ count their wealth, 129:01,129[' ]| To$9$ excommunicate and study health. 129:01,130[' ]| A higher work is to$4$ their court annexed: 129:01,131[' ]| The nation they divide, their curates' text. 129:01,132[' ]| No$2$ bishop rather than it should be so$5#2$! 129:01,133[' ]| No$2$ Church! no$2$ trade! no$2$ king! no$2$ people! no$7$! 129:01,134[' ]| All mischief is moulded by$4$ those state divines: 129:01,135[' ]| Aaron casts calves but Moses them calcines. 129:01,136[' ]| The legion Devil did but one man possess: 129:01,137[' ]| One bishop's fiend spirits a whole diocese. 129:01,138[' ]| That$6#2$ power alone can loose this spell that$6#1$ ties, 129:01,139[' ]| For$3$ only kings can bishops exercise. 129:01,140[' ]| Will$1$ you be treated Princes? here fall to$5$: 129:01,141[' ]| Fish and flesh bishops are the ambigue. 129:01,142[' ]| However insipid yet the sauce will$1$ mend them: 129:01,143[' ]| Bishops are very good when 7in*commendum. 129:01,144[' ]| If wealth or vice can tempt your appetites, 129:01,145[' ]| These templar lords exceed the templar knights, 129:01,146[' ]| And in$4$ a baron bishop you have both: 129:01,147[' ]| Leviathan served up$5$ and Behemoth. 129:01,148[' ]| How can you bear such miscreants should live, 129:01,149[' ]| And holy ordure holy orders give? 129:01,150[' ]| None knows what god our Flamen now adores; 129:01,151[' ]| One mitre fits the heads of full four Moors. 129:01,152[' ]| No$2$ wonder if the orthodox do bleed, 129:01,153[' ]| Whilst Arius stands at the Athanasian creed. 129:01,154[' ]| What so$5#1$ obdurate pagan heretic 129:01,155[' ]| But will$1$ transform for$4$ an archbishopric? 129:01,156[' ]| In$4$ faith erroneous and in$4$ life profane 129:01,157[' ]| These hypocrites their faith and linen stain. 129:01,158[' ]| Seth's pillars are no$2$ antique brick and stone 129:01,159[' ]| But of the choicest modern flesh and bone. 129:01,160[' ]| Who$6#1$ views but Gilbert's toils will$1$ reason find 129:01,161[' ]| Neither before to$9$ trust him nor behind. 129:01,162[' ]| How oft hath age his hallowing hands misled 129:01,163[' ]| Confirming breasts and armpits for$4$ the head. 129:01,164[' ]| Abbot one buck, but he shot many a doe, 129:01,165[' ]| Nor is our Sheldon whiter than his snow. 129:01,166[' ]| Their company is the worst that$6#1$ ever played 129:01,167[' ]| And their religion all but masquerade. 129:01,168[' ]| The conscious prelate therefore did not err, 129:01,169[' ]| When for$4$ a church he built a theatre. 129:01,170[' ]| A congruous dress they to$4$ themselves adapt, 129:01,171[' ]| Like$4$ smutty stories in$4$ pure linen wrapped. 129:01,172[' ]| Do but their piebald lordships once uncase 129:01,173[' ]| Of Rochets, Tippets, Copes, and where is their grace? 129:01,174[' ]| A hungry chaplain and a starved rat 129:01,175[' ]| Eating their brethren bishop turn and cat 129:01,176[' ]| But an apocryphal archbishop Bell 129:01,177[' ]| Like$4$ snake that$6#1$ swallows toad doth dragon swell. 129:01,178[' ]| When daring Blood to$9$ have his rents regained 129:01,179[' ]| Upon$4$ the English diadem distrained, 129:01,180[' ]| He chose the cassock surcingle and gown, 129:01,181[' ]| The fittest mask for$4$ one that$6#1$ robs a crown. 129:01,182[' ]| But his lay pity underneath prevailed 129:01,183[' ]| And while he spared the keeper's life he failed. 129:01,184[' ]| With the priests vestments had he but put on$5$ 129:01,185[' ]| A bishop's cruelty, the crown had gone. 129:01,186[' ]| Strange was the sight the Scotch twin-headed man 129:01,187[' ]| With single body like$4$ the two-necked swan, 129:01,188[' ]| And wild disputes betwixt those heads must grow, 129:01,189[' ]| Where but two hands to$9$ act, two feet to$9$ go. 129:01,190[' ]| Nature in$4$ living emblem there expressed 129:01,191[' ]| What Britain was, between two kings distressed. 129:01,192[' ]| But now, when one head doth both realms control, 129:01,193[' ]| The bishops noddle perks up$5$ cheek by$4$ jowl. 129:01,194[' ]| They, though no$2$ poets, on$4$ Parnassus dream, 129:01,195[' ]| And in$4$ their causes think themselves supreme. 129:01,196[' ]| Kings head sayeth this, But bishops head that$6#2$ do. 129:01,197[' ]| Doth Charles the Second reign or Charles the two? 129:01,198[' ]| Well that$6#2$ Scotch monster and our bishops sort: 129:01,199[' ]| It was musician too and dwelt at court. 129:01,200[' ]| Hark! though at such a distance what a noise 129:01,201[' ]| Shattering the silent air disturbs our joys! 129:01,202[' ]| The mitred hubbub against Pluto moot 129:01,203[' ]| That$3$ cloven head must govern cloven foot. 129:01,204[' ]| Strange boldness! even bishops there rebel 129:01,205[' ]| And plead their 7Jus*Divinum though in$4$ Hell. 129:01,206[' ]| Those whom you hear more clamorous yet and loud 129:01,207[' ]| Of ceremonies wrangle in$4$ the crowd, 129:01,208[' ]| And would like$4$ chemists fixing mercury 129:01,209[' ]| Transfuse indifference with necessity. 129:01,210[' ]| To$9$ sit is necessary in$4$ parliament, 129:01,211[' ]| To$9$ preach in$4$ diocese indifferent. 129:01,212[' ]| To$9$ conform is necessary or be shent, 129:01,213[' ]| But to$9$ reform is all indifferent: 129:01,214[' ]| It is necessary bishops have their rent, 129:01,215[' ]| To$9$ cheat the plague money indifferent. 129:01,216[' ]| It is necessary to$9$ rebabel Pauls, 129:01,217[' ]| Indifferent to$9$ rob churches of their coals. 129:01,218[' ]| It is necessary Lambeth never wed, 129:01,219[' ]| Indifferent to$9$ have a wench in$4$ bed. 129:01,220[' ]| Such bishops are without a complement: 129:01,221[' ]| Not necessary nor indifferent. 129:01,222[' ]| Incorrigible among all their pains 129:01,223[' ]| Some sue for$4$ tithe of the Elysian plains; 129:01,224[' ]| Others attempt, to$9$ cool their fervent chine, 129:01,225[' ]| The second time to$9$ ravish Proserpine. 129:01,226[' ]| Even Father Dis though so$5#2$ with age defaced 129:01,227[' ]| With much ado preserves his postern chaste. 129:01,228[' ]| The innocentest mind their thirst alone 129:01,229[' ]| And unenforced quaff healths in$4$ Phlegethon. 129:01,230[' ]| Luxury, malice, superstition, pride, 129:01,231[' ]| Oppression, avarice, ambition, id~~ 129:01,232[' ]| ~~leness and all the vice that$6#1$ did abound, 129:01,233[' ]| While they lived here, still haunts them underground. 129:01,234[' ]| Had it not been for$4$ such a bias strong, 129:01,235[' ]| Two nations near had missed the mark so$5#1$ long. 129:01,236[' ]| The world in$4$ all doth but two nations bear, 129:01,237[' ]| The good, the bad, and those mixed everywhere. 129:01,238[' ]| Under each pole place either of the two, 129:01,239[' ]| The good will$1$ bravely, bad will$1$ basely do; 129:01,240[' ]| And few indeed can parallel our climes 129:01,241[' ]| For$4$ worth heroic or heroic crimes. 129:01,242[' ]| The trial would however be too nice 129:01,243[' ]| Which$6#1$ stronger were, a Scotch or English vice, 129:01,244[' ]| Or whether the same virtue would reflect 129:01,245[' ]| From Scotch or English heart the same effect. 129:01,246[' ]| Nation is all but name as Shibboleth, 129:01,247[' ]| Where a mistaken accent causeth death. 129:01,248[' ]| In$4$ Paradise names only Nature showed, 129:01,249[' ]| At Babel names from pride and discord flowed, 129:01,250[' ]| And ever since men with a female spite 129:01,251[' ]| First call each other names and then they fight. 129:01,252[' ]| Scotland and England cause of just uproar! 129:01,253[' ]| Does man and wife signify rogue and whore? 129:01,254[' ]| Say but a Scot and straight we fall to$4$ sides: 129:01,255[' ]| That$6#2$ syllable like$4$ a Pict's wall divides. 129:01,256[' ]| Rational men's words pledges are of peace, 129:01,257[' ]| Perverted serve dissensions to$9$ increase. 129:01,258[' ]| For$4$ shame extirpate from each loyal breast 129:01,259[' ]| That$6#2$ senseless rancour against interest. 129:01,260[' ]| One king, one faith, one language and one isle: 129:01,261[' ]| English and Scotch, it is all but cross and pile 129:01,262[' ]| Charles our great soul this only understands: 129:01,263[' ]| He our affection both and will$0$ commands, 129:01,264[' ]| And, where twin sympathies can not atone, 129:01,265[' ]| Knows the last secret how to$9$ make them one. 129:01,266[' ]| Just so$5#2$ the prudent husbandman who$6#1$ sees 129:01,267[' ]| The idle tumult of his factious bees, 129:01,268[' ]| The morning dews and flowers neglected grown, 129:01,269[' ]| The hive a comb case, every bee a drone, 129:01,270[' ]| Powders them over till none discern their foes 129:01,271[' ]| And all themselves in$4$ meal and friendship close. 129:01,272[' ]| The insect kingdom straight begins to$9$ thrive 129:01,273[' ]| And each works honey for$4$ the common hive. 129:01,274[' ]| Pardon, young hero, this so$5#1$ long transport 129:01,275[' ]| Thy death more noble did the same extort. 129:01,276[' ]| My former satyr for$4$ this verse forget, 129:01,277[' ]| The hare's head against the goose giblets set. 129:01,278[' ]| I single did against a nation write, 129:01,279[' ]| Against a nation thou didst singly fight. 129:01,280[' ]| My differing crime doth more thy virtue raise 129:01,281[' ]| And such my rashness best thy valour praise. 129:01,282[' ]| Here Douglas smiling said he did intend 129:01,283[' ]| After such frankness shown to$9$ be his friend, 129:01,284[' ]| Forewarned him therefore lest in$4$ time he were 129:01,285[' ]| Metempsychosed to$4$ some Scotch Presbyter.