Classic Poem

The Engagemen stated .

B E gon Expositor: the Text is plain,
No Church , no Lord , no Law , no Soveraign:
Away with mental reservations, and
Senses of Oaths in files out-vy the Strand:
Here's Hell truss'd in a thimble, in a breath,
Dares face the hazard of the second death.
The Saints are grown Laconians , and can twist
Perjury up in Pills, like Leyden grist:
But hold precize Doponents: though the heat
Of Zeal in Cataracts digests such meat,
My cold concoction shrinks, and my advance
Drives slowly to approach your Ordinance .
The sign's in Cancer , and the Zodiack turns
Leonick , roul'd in curls, while Terra burns.
What though your fancies are sublim'd to reach
Those fatal reins? Successe and will can teach
But rash Divinity: a sad renown,
Where one man fell to see a million drown.
When neither Arts nor Armes can serve to fight
And wrest a Title from its Law and Right,
Must Malice piece the Trangum , and make clear
The scruple? Else we will resolve to swear?
Nay out-swear all that we have sworn before,
And make good lesser crimes by acting more
And more sublime? This, this extends the Line
And shames the puny soul of Cataline .
On this account all those whose Fortune's crost,
And want estates, may turn Knights of the Post .
Vaulx we out-vy'd thee, since thy plot fell lame,
We found a closer Celler for the same,
Piling the fatal Powder in our mouths,
Which in an Oath discharg'd blew up the House .
Maugre Mounteagle , Aspes not throughly slain,
Their poyson in an age may live again.
Good Demas cuff your Bear, then let us see
The mystery of your iniquity.
May a Man course a Cur? and freely box
The Question? or the formal Paradox?
But as in Physick, so in this device
This querk of policy the point is nice.
For he that in this model means to thrive,
Must first subscribe to the Preparative;
Like Witches compact counter-march his faith
And soak up all what ere the Spirit saith;
Then seale and signe. Scylla threw three Barres short,
He had a Sword indeed, but no Text for't.
Old Rome lament thy infancy in sin,
We perfect what thou trembledst to begin,
Flush then to see thy self out-done. But all
The world may grieve, 'tis epidemical.
Heaven frowns indeed. But what makes Hell enraged?
Sweet Pluto be at Peace, we have Engaged.