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Of whose Strange crimes no Canonist 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:
Tiine, that at last matures a clap to pox,
Whose gentle progress makes a calf an ox;
And brings all natural events to pass,
Hath made him an Attorney of an Ass.
No young divine, new-benefic'd, can be
More pert, more proud, more positive, than he.
What further could I will the fop to do,
But turn a wit, and scribble verses too?
Pierce the soft labyrinth of a Lady's ear

55 With rhymes of this per cent. and that per year? Or court a Wife, spread out his wily parts, Like nets or lime-twigs, for rich Widows hearts ; Call himself Barrister to every wench, And wooe in langtiage of the Pleas and Bench? 60


Whose strange fins Canonists could hardly tell
In which Commandment's large receit they dwell.

But these punish themselves. 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 scarce a Poet: jollier of this ftate;
Than are new-benefic'd Ministers, he throws
Like nets or lime-twigs wherefos'er he goes


Language, which Boreas might to Auster hold
More rough than forty Germans when they scold.

Curs’d be the wretch, so venal and so vain :
Paltry and proud, as drabs in Drury-lane.
'Tis such a bounty as was never known,
If Peter deigns to help you to your own :
What thanks, what praise, if Peter but supplies !
And what a solemn face, if he denies !
Grave, as when prisoners shake the head and swear
'Twas only Suretiship that brought them there.
His Office keeps your Parchment fates entire,
He starves with cold to save them from the fire;

he walks the streets through rain or duft; For not in Chariots Peter pats his trust;



His title of Barrister on every wench,
And wooes in language of the Pleas and Bench. * *

Words, words which would tear
The tender labyrinth of a Maid's soft ear :
More, more than ten Sclavonians scolding, more
Than when winds in our ruin'd Abbeys roar.
Then fick with Poetry, and poffest with Muse
Thou wast, and mad I hop'd; but men which chuse
Law practice for meer gain : bold soul repute
Worse than imbrothel'd strumpets 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 swear,
That only suretiship hath brought them there,

he sweats and labours at the laws,

Takes God to witness he affects your cause,
And lies to every Lord in every thing,
Like a King's Favourite-or like a King.
These are the talents that adorn them all,
From wicked Waters even to godly **

80 Not more of Simony beneath black gowns, Not more of bastardy in heirs to Crowns. In shillings and in pence at firk they deat; And steal so little, few perceive they steal ; Till, like the Sea, they compass all the land, 85 From Scots to Wight, from Mount to Dover strand : And when rank Widows purchase luscious nights, Or when a Duke to Janssen punts at White's, Or City Heir in mortgage melts away ; Satan himself feels far less joy than they.

go Piecemeal

And to every suitor lye in every thing,
Like a King's Favourite-or like a King.
Like a wedge in a block, wring to the barre,
Bearing like affes, and more shameless farre
Than carted whores, lye to the grave Judge; for
Bastardy abounds not in King's titles, nor
Simony and Sodomy in Churchmen's lives,
As these things do in him; by these he thrives.
Shortly (as th' fea) he'll compass all the land,
From Scots to Wight, from Mount to Dover strand.
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 Civil Codes, with all their Glosses, are;
So vast, our new Divines, we must confess,
Are Fathers of the Church for writing less.
But let them write for


rogue impairs
The deeds, and dextrously omits, ses beires :
No Commentator can more flily pass
Over 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 scrapes kitchen-stuffe,
And barrelling the dropings and the snuffe
Of wasting 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
Assurances, big as gloss'd civil laws,
So huge that men (in our times forwardness)
Are Fathers of the Church for writing less
These he writes not; nor for these written payes,
Therefore fpares no length (as in those first dayes
When Luther was profest, he did defire
Short Pater-nofters, saying as a Fryer


So Luther thought the Pater-nofter long, 105
When doom'd to fay his beads and Even-fong ;
But having cast his cowl, and left those laws,
Adds to Christ'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 see no new-built palaces aspire,
No kitchens emulate the veftal 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 beasts were kill'd, though not whole hecatombs ;
That both extremes were banishid from their walls,
Carthufian fafts, and fulfome Bacchanals;
And all mankind might that just Mean obferve,
In which none e'er could furfeit, none could starve.




the power

Each day his Beads : but having left those laws,
Adds to Chuiftis

and glory clause)
But when he fells or changes land, h' impaires
The writings, and (unwatch’d) leaves out, ses beiresze
As lily as any Commentator 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 douben
Where are these spread woods which cloath'd here-

Those bought lands not built, nor burnt within door.
Where the old landlords troops and almes ? In halls
Carthulian Fasts, and fulsome Bachanals

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