Classic Poem

Did Saints, for this, bring in their Plate,
And crowd as if they came too late.
For when they thought the Cause had need on't,
Happy was he that could be rid on't,
Did they coin Piss-Pots, Bowls, and Flaggons,
Int' officers of horse and dragoons;
And into pikes and musquetteers,
Stamp beakers, cups, and porringers?
A thimble, bodkin, and a spoon,
Did start up living men, as soon
As in the furnace they were thrown,
Just like the dragon's teeth being sown.
Then was the Cause of Gold and Plate,
The brethren's offerings, consecrate,
Like th' Hebrew Calf, and down before it
The Saints fell prostrate, to adore it,
So say the wicked.