Which made the women flock to fee
The tokens of their fanctity,
And to behold the naked truth,
As well as hear it from the mouth.
These fons of grace and of adoption,
Refin'd from fin and all corruption,
So crofs-grain'd, holy, and morofe.
Love coin altho' they hate the cross ;
Are therefore full of idle fcepti'fm,
Concerning of its fign in baptifm;
Nor can his intellects conclude
The type of sprinkling to be good;
Yet will in folemn words affert,

He loves the church with all his heart,
And cou'd conform, with a provifo,
She'd into bapto change baptizo.
His doctrine chiefly is upon
The ancient ufe of Baptift John,
Whofe facred cuftoms the enthufion
Prefers t'our Saviour's inftitution,
And rather than with God comply,
Will upon mortal man rely,
Who was not worthy to unloofe
The latchets of our Saviour's fhoes.
The font he will not hear a word on,
But flies away to th' river Jordan ;
And tho' no fprinkling will go down,
He'll dip you there until you drown.
Thus many at a fraw will fumble,
That leap o'er logs and never grumble.
So the ftiff confciences of thofe
Who are the church's greateft foes,
With little fins are apt to ftruggle,
But fwallow great ones without boggle.
The Quaker next that quirpo faint,
In dress and speech fo very quaint,
Whose holy pride would chufe much rather
To hazard hell than fay, Our Father;
Or fooner bend to pfalm or psalter,
Than bow his head before the altar.

Among the reft promotes the notion
Of pop'ry and of perfecution,
And in his groaning fits abuses

The church for what the never uses,
Cries out the horned beast, the dragon,
The scarlet whore, the pope, the pagan,
When all the whims that cause his sadness,
Proceed from folly, zeal, and madness,
Which in his crazy crown unite,
And kindle what he calls the light,
An Ignis fatuus that bewitches

Like that which fprings from marfhy ditches,
And leads him into foul miftakes,

As t'other into thorny brakes.

Much confcience he pretends to use,
But deals with churchmen as with Jews;
And tho' he will not fwear will play
The cunning knave, by yea and nay,
With fober verilies outwit ye,
And in a folemn manner cheat ye;
Defies the wicked to deceive him,
Yet cozens all men that believe him,
And coftly fins, for which he cares not,
Makes up with lying, tho' he wears not;
Which fhews his confcience can detest
All vice but what he likes the best.
As women who referve their kiffes,
Because they value not love's bliffes.
Compound for the neglect of joy,
And to the clofet-bottle-fly.

The next pretending fon of grace,
With formal mien and folemn face,
Is the fifth-monarchy enthusion,
The pink and pattern of confufion;
A ftubborn rebel, who, to tease us,
Will own no other king but Jefus ;
And him, was he on earth to reign,
The faints would crucify again,
Or ferve him as themfelves and fellows,
Who were a scandal to the gallows,
Did the best king, the braveft fov❜reign
That e'er had right divine to govern.

Thefe,

'Thefe, if the devil e'er poffeft

One wicked feet above the rest,

Are furely those whose words and actions
Are under Belzebub's directions.

In this enthusiastick herd

The maddeft of the faints appear'd,
Thofe facred rogues who were the proudeft
Of deeds the blackest and the bloody'st,
And had the faving grace to boast
Of the worst villanies the most,
As if they wanted to excel

On earth the wickedness of hell,
And vilely hop'd, by dint of blood,
To turn all evil into good,

As rebels when they win the day,
O'er lawful pow'rs ufurp the fway,
And by new precepts of their own

Charge all the crimes themselves have done,
On those they've wrong'd and overthrown.
Of thefe and all the other faints,

Who've given the Chriftian church fuch rents,
Murder'd their king, ufurp'd the throne,
And turn the kingdom upfide down,
O England, England! have a care,
No mercy fhew, or justice fpare,
To whining holy cheats that
pray,
As witches do, the backward way,
And ne'er invoke the God of peace,
Except to bless their villanies."
O England! look a little back,
Behold how daring and how black
A progrefs they had lately made,
When all was in confufion laid,
And no man's life, or his estate
Secure from their rebellious hate;
The churches they to ftables turn'd,
And prifons, where the loyal mourn'd,
The pulpit to a finful box

Of treason, 'stead of orthodox ;
Whitehall, where princes us'd to meet,
Transform'd into a rebel's feat,

E 4

}

Where

Where pious knaves, with one accord,
Together kneed to feek the Lord;
The nation to a field of blood,

Where traytors triumph'd o'er the good,
And made the profitable toils
Of others their continual fpoils;
The laws against the church and crown,
Were turn'd to pull and keep 'em down,
And all religion into bafe

Hypocrify and dull grimace.
Therefore, O king! let e'ery fect,
By wholsome laws be duly check'd:
Thy juft prerogative extend,

Affert thy throne, the church defend,
And timely pare the hydra's claws,
Or thou wilt find the Good Old Caufe
New strength will of a fudden gather,
And serve thee as fhe did thy father.

Dunftable Downs; or the Inchanted Cave.

N

EAR Dunftable, upon the Down,

There is an alehoufe, and but one,
Which fome th' inchanted castle call;
Others, more aptly, Gypfie-Hall.

Not far from hence if we may credit
Some ancient authors, that have faid it:
Erft dwelt, to make the ftory brief,
Old Dun that memorable thief.
Within a hollow under-ground
Apartments yet are to be found,
Where both himself and horfe retreated,
And ftill all hues and cries defeated:

But waving this to come to th' tale,
Near to this place there lies a vale:
Where a good dame much fam'd in story,
For praying fouls from purgatory,
A chapel built and got a grant,
That in remembrance of a faint
Ten thousand maffes fhould be faid
For her repofe, tho' fhe was dead:

And

Dunstable Downs

5.