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Of whose strange crimes no Canonift can tell
In what Commandment's large contents, they dwell.
One, one man only breeds my just offence;
Whom crimes gave wealth, and wealth gave impudence:
Time, that at laft matures a clap to pox,

Whofe gentle progress makes a calf an ox,
And brings all natural events to pass,
Hath made him an Attorney of an Afs.
No young divine, new-benefic'd, can be
More pert, more proud, more pofitive than he.
What further could I wish the fop to do,

But turn a wit, and fcribble verfes too?
Pierce the foft lab'rinth of a Lady's ear

With rhymes of this per cent. and that per year?
Or court a Wife, fpread out his wily parts,
Like nets or lime-twigs, for rich widows hearts;

Whofe ftrange fins Canonifts could hardly tell
In which Commandment's large receit they dwell.
But thefe punish themfelves. The infolence

Of Cofcus, only, breeds my just offence,

Whom time (which rots all, and makes botches pox,
And plodding on, must make a calf an ox)
Hath made a Lawyer; which (alas) of late;
But fcarce a Poet: jollier of this state,
Than are new-benefic'd Minifters, he throws
Like nets or lime-twigs wherefoe'er he goes
His title of Barrister on ev'ry wench,

And wooes in language of the Pleas and Bench, *

Call himself Barrister to every wench,
And wooe in language of the Pleas and Bench?
Language, which Boreas might to Auster hold
More rough than forty Germans when they scold,
Curs'd be the wretch, so venal and fo vain:
Paltry and proud, as drabs in Drury-lane.
'Tis fuch a bounty as was never known,
If PETER deigns to help you to your own:
What thanks, what praise, if Peter but fupplies!
And what a folemn face, if he denies !

Grave, as when pris'ners shake the head and fwear
'Twas only Suretiship that brought 'em there.
His Office keeps your Parchment fates entire,
He starves with cold to fave them from the fire;
For you he walks the streets thro' rain or dust,
For not in Chariots Peter puts his trust;

Words, words which would tear

The tender labyrinth of a Maid's foft ear:
More, more than ten Sclavonians scolding, more
Than when winds in our ruin'd Abbyes roar.
Then fick with Poetry, and poffeft with Muse
Thou wast, and mad I hop'd; but men which chufe
Law practice for meer gain; bold foul repute
Worfe than imbrothel'd ftrumpets prostitute.
Now like an owl-like watchman he must walk,
His hand still at a bill; now he must talk
Idly, like prisoners, which whole months will fwear,
That only furetyship hath brought them there,

For you he sweats and labours at the laws,
Takes God to witnefs he affects your caufe,
And lies to every Lord in every thing,
Like a King's Favourite-or like a King.
Thefe are the talents that adorn them all,
From wicked Waters even to godly *
Not more of Simony beneath black gowns,.
Not more of bastardy in heirs to Crowns.
In fhillings and in pence at first they deal;
And fteal fo little, few perceive they steal;
Till, like the fea, they compafs all the land,
From Scots to Wight, from Mount to Dover strand ::
And when rank Widows purchase luscious nights,
Or when a Duke to Janfen punts at White's,
Or City-Heir in mortgage melts away;
Satan himself feels far lefs joy than they..

And to every fuitor lye in every thing,
Like a King's Favourite-or like a King.
Like wedge in a block, wring to the barre,
Bearing like affes, and more shameless farre
Than carted whores, lye to the grave Judge; for
Baftardy abounds not in the King's titles, nor
Simony and Sodomy in Church-men's lives,
As these things do in him; by thefe he thrives.
Shortly (as th' fea) he'll compafs all the land,
From Scots to Wight, from Mount to Dover ftrand:
And spying heirs melting with Luxury,

Satan will not joy at their fins as he :

Piecemeal they win this acre first, then that,
Glean on, and gather up the whole estate.
Then strongly fencing ill-got wealth by law,
Indentures, Covenants, Articles they draw,
Large as the fields themselves, and larger far
Than Cival Codes, with all their Gloffes, are;
So vast, our new Divines, we must confess,
Are Fathers of the Church for writing less.
But let them write for you, each rogue impairs
The deeds, and dextrously omits, fes heires:
No Commentator can more flily pass
O'er a learn'd, unintelligible place :

Or, in quotation, fhrewd Divines leave out
Those words, that would against them clear the doubt.

For (as a thrifty wench fcrapes kitchen-stuff,
And barreling the droppings, and the fnuffe
Of wafting candles, which in thirty year,
Reliquely kept, perchance buys wedding chear)
Piecemeal he gets lands, and spends as much time
Wringing each acre, as maids pulling prime.
In parchment then, large as the fields, he draws
Affurances, big as glofs'd i il laws,

So huge that men (in our times forwardness)
Are Fathers of the Church for writing less.
'Thefe he writes not; no fo these written payes,
'Therefore spares no length (as in those first dayes)
When Luther was profeft, he did defire
Short Pater-nujters, faying as a Fryer.

So Luther thought the Pater-nofter long, When doom'd to fay his beads and Even-fong; But having caft his cowl, and left thofe laws, Adds to Chrift's prayer, the Power and Glory clause.

The lands are bought; but where are to be found Those ancient woods, that shaded all the ground? We fee no new-built palaces afpire,

No kitchens emulate the vestal fire.

Where are those troops of Poor, that throng'd of yore
The good old landlord's hospitable door?

Well, I could wish, that still in lordly domes
Some beafts were kill'd, tho' not whole hecatombs;
That both extremes were banish'd from their walls,
Carthufian fasts, and fulfome Bacchanals;
And all mankind might that just Mean observe,
In which none e'er could furfeit, none could starve.

Each day his beads; but having left those laws,
Adds to Chrift's prayer, the power and glory clause.
But when he fells or changes land, h'impaires
The writings, and (unwatch'd) leaves out, fes heires,
As flily as any Commenter goes by

Hard words, or sense; or, in Divinity

As controverters in vouch'd Texts, leave out Shrewd words, which might against them clear the

doubt.

[tofore Where are those spread woods which cloath'd hereThose bought lands? not built, nor burnt within door. Where the old landlords troops, and alms! In halls Carthufian Fafts, and fulfome Bacchanals

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