Mean time the Prince of Darkness flew away,

To send fierce Discord to the Coasts of Day.

Far on th' Infernal Frontiers near the Shore,

On which th' insulting Waves of Chaos roar;

The utmost limits of Tartarean ground,

Which Hell's dark Realms from Night and Chaos bound;

There stands a high and craggy Cliff that braves

The neighb'ring Tempests and tumultuous Waves.

On this sharp Rock did the dire Fiend remain

Bound with a vast, unweildy, brazen chain.

Whose hideous yellings did the Deep affright,

And interrupt the Peace of lonesome Night.

A Thousand horrid Mouths the Monster show'd,

And each had twenty Tongues, all fierce and loud.

Her bloody Jaws did her lean Limbs devour,

And from her wounds she drank the flowing Gore.

With her sharp Claws she did her Entrails tear,

And from her head pull'd off her Snaky hair.

The Breath she Belch'd out with a fearful sound,

Made Storms and Whirlwinds in the Air around,

Her glaring, fierce, mis-plac'd, distorted Eyes,

Like adverse Meteors flaming in the Skys,

Their fiery Orbs against each other turn'd,

Tremendous in their bloody Circles burn'd.

So glows the Furnace which the flowing Mass

Of liquid Flints, transforms to Crystal Glass.

Round her foul wast a thousand Monsters rag'd,

A dreadful sight, in endless Strife engag'd.

Some Serpent like their spotted Volumns roll'd,

Some a Cerberean Offspring grinn'd and howl'd.

Like Lyons some, like Tygers some appear'd,

And part their hissing heads like Hydras reer'd.

Part Leopards seem'd, part were of Vulture Kind,

Part seem'd for pois'nous Basilisks design'd.

Some were an odious Harpy-footed Race,

Some Dragons Tails joyn'd to a Gorgon's face.

Some blended Forms did compound Horrour show,

Such as from foul unnatural Mixtures flow,

When all the various Beasts of Lybia meet

At some refreshing Spring to cool their heat.

Where Lyons, Bears, and all the Savage Kind

A horrid Congress, are in Friendship joyn'd;

And when the Stream has quench'd their burning Thirst,

Form dire Conceptions with promiscuous Lust.

These all each other, and their Parent tear,

And rend her Bowels with Eternal War.

Raving and restless on the Rock she turn'd,

And with her Feet her massy Fetters spurn'd.

Her Parent Ignorance close by her stood,

And from her Breast squeez'd Juice like blackish blood,

Her hateful Offspring's most delicious food.

A formidable Figure black as night,

That does in Shades and Labyrinths delight,

Exceeding fierce, but destitute of sight.

A crowd of howling Hellhounds round her staid,

All hideous Forms that her Commands obey'd.

Contention, Zeal, Inexorable Rage,

And Strife that wretched Men in Arms engage.

Various Division, Malice, deadly Hate,

That rend a Kingdom, and dissolve a State.

With these a cursed Figure did attend

Ecclesiastic Wrath, a furious Fiend

That did the rest in Cruelty surpass,

Deform'd beyond the whole Infernal Race.

Swift as exploded Light'ning thro' the Sky,

To this wild Rock did Hell's proud Monarch fly.

The Fiends, as he alighted on the place,

Before him bow'd with awkard, horrid Grace.

Strait with his hands the brazen Chain he broke,

And then the raging Fury thus bespoke.

Thou by whose Aid, we founded first our State,

Who didst these gloomy Seats of Death create,

Of whose great Power all Nature stands afraid,

Hither I come to ask thy speedy Aid.

The British King th' invet'rate Foe of Hell,

By whose prevailing Arms the Saxon fell,

Musters in Gallic Fields his British Ranks,

And threatens Ruin to our Warlike Franks.

Go haste to Albion, and her State embroil,

With Heats and Strife and Tumult fill the Isle.

That Arthur from Lutetia may retire,

To quench distracted Albion's raging Fire.

He said. The Fiend pleas'd with the high design

Reply'd, this grateful Enterprise be mine.

I first in Heav'n did Strife and Uproar move,

And vext with War the Realms of Peace and Love.

Cast down from thence to Eden's Walks I came,

Where Adam's Breast receiv'd my powerful Flame.

From Heav'n his yielding Heart I did divide

Tho' by the Bonds of Love and Int'rest ty'd

Against his God I arm'd the Rebel first,

And then against himself with Guilt and Lust.

His Veins inspir'd by me, distracted Cain

Did first with humane blood the ground distain.

Subjects by me dethrone their Rightful Lord,

Sons in their Parents Bowels sheath their Sword.

Empires whose deep foundations laid in blood,

Collected in their Strength unshaken stood,

Viewing their spacious Conquests far and wide,

And all their Foes Associate Arms defy'd,

By my Superiour force at last attackt,

Have faln with inward, strong Convulsions rackt.

Nations insulted by their Tyranny,

Have seen with Joy their Wrongs reveng'd by me.

The Roman vanquish'd Eagles must have fled,

And left Unconquer'd proud Judea's head,

Had not my Fury and resistless Flames

Annoy'd the Walls, more than their Batt'ring Rams.

High Rome by all the trembling World ador'd,

Inspir'd by me, plung'd her Victorious Sword

Within her own full Breasts, and with her Darts

Wild with Distraction pierc'd her Childrens Hearts.

Her mighty Sons in Arms and War renown'd,

With the rich Spoils of Conquer'd Monarchs crown'd,

Drunk with my Fury, with each other's blood

Delug'd the Plains, and swell'd sad Tyber's Flood.

Ev'n Christians whom their Founder had enjoyn'd,

To live in Bonds of Peace and Love combin'd;

Whence both their Strength and Beauty should arise,

And on them draw the World's admiring Eyes,

Inspir'd by me against each other rag'd,

For Empire strove, and in fierce War engag'd.

I taught them to despise the gentle Dove,

And into Savage Fury chang'd their Love.

They soon discern'd by Lights deriv'd from me,

That Kindness, Meekness, low Humility

Those Gospel Vertues that to Peace inclin'd,

Enfeebled and debased a Noble Mind.

The Streets which sounded with Seraphic Lays,

With Songs of Heav'nly Love and Sacred Praise,

Now with the Din of Arms and Trumpets sound,

And warlike noise shake all the Heav'ns around.

Their Mitred Captains spring into the Field,

Lay down the Crosier, and the Fauchion weild.

Th' outrageous Preachers of a Law of Peace,

From Strife and fierce Contention never cease.

The Sacred Prelates now for Arms declare,

Unfold their Gowns, and shake out horrid War.

The furious Shepherds o'er the Mountains scour,

Prevent the Wolves, and their own Flocks devour.

Their Love extinguish'd by my stronger flame,

Their Church a bloody Theater became,

Where with a Zeal that gives all Hell delight,

Ecclesiastic Gladiators Fight:

In bloody Prizes with prodigious rage,

The eager Champions of the Church engage.

That Church has found mine, a more fatal Fire

Then that wherein her Martyrs did expire.

The beauteous Charms and Graces that arose

From perfect Health which Unity bestows,

Soon wither'd and decay'd, and in their place

A sickly Hue deform'd her meagre face.

My single hand has nobler Conquests won

O'er the Vile Sect, than all your Arms have done.

In vain you brought your Scythians from the North,

In vain you led your Roman Armys forth.

Oppos'd by these the Christians greater grew,

And all their Suff'rings did their Strength renew.

Confed'rate Earth and Hell could never move

This Sect supported by their mutual Love.

I broke the strong Enchantment, and infus'd

Those heats which all the binding Cement loos'd.

The Bond dissolv'd which did the frame connect,

Into a thousand parts was rent the shatter'd Sect.

Each Fragment strait aspir'd to soveraign rule,

And every seperate Part would be the whole.

They did each other black Apostates deem,

But all themselves the Orthodox esteem.

With all th' abstracted Points the Schools could find,

And Notions by th' acutest Wit refin'd

I entertain'd and fand the glowing flame,

Till it attain'd a force too great to tame.

Sometimes the Zealots shed each others blood,

For Points by neither Party understood.

Fruitfull in Creeds and Councils Asia's soil

Is fam'd for fierce Ecclesiastic toil.

Anti-Nestorian at Nestorian rag'd,

And Arrian War with Anti-Arrian wag'd.

Their Synods oft adjourn'd into the Field,

And those were Hereticks, who first did yield.

All for the Conq'ring Faith did soon declare,

And Creeds were vary'd by the chance of War.

In Orthodoxal Pride by turns they reign'd,

As they by turns the Battle lost or gain'd.

These furious Zealots thus the World embroil'd,

And with unheard of Rage each other spoil'd.

So soon the Laws of Peace they did decline,

Despis'd their Master's Badge, and put on mine.

An idle Notion and an empty Word

Have dy'd with Christian Blood the reeking Sword.

Thus has the ruin'd World my Power confest,

And so much Zeal have I for Hell exprest:

Nor will I future Services decline,

But undertake the Province you enjoyn.

Strait to Britannia will I make my way,

She's Conscious of my Power, and must obey.

She said. And strait she mounted in the Air,

And all behind her flew her Snaky Hair.

Thro' the dark Realms she swiftly wing'd her way,

And quickly reach'd the Silver Coasts of Day.

To Morogan's high Seat she took her flight,

Where she arriv'd when blended Shades and Light,

A brown Confusion made of Day and Night.

When Birds obscene fly from their dark abodes,

And prowling Wolves forsake the shady Woods.

The Lyon now who in his Den by Day

His lazy Limbs extended slumb'ring lay,

Yawning and stretching from his Covert comes,

Roars o'er the Hills, and thro' the Forest roams.

His lofty Palace near Augusta stood,

On the sweet Banks of Isis famous Flood,

Whither the Peer sowr with his Discontent

Came, in Augusta Faction to foment.

Along the Shore his flowry Gardens lay,

Which did with smiling looks the Stream survey.

Here walk'd proud Morogan with Cares opprest,

Holding his Arms across his anxious Breast.

When hither with her Crew the Fury came,

Whose pois'nous Breath, and the malignant flame

That thro' the Air her glaring Eye-balls cast,

All the delicious Gardens Glory blast.

The verdant Walks their charming Aspect lose,

And shriveld Fruit drop from the wither'd Boughs.

Flowers in their Virgin Blushes smother'd die,

And round the Trees their scatter'd Beautys lie.

Infection taints the Air, sick Nature fades,

And suddain Autumn all the place invades.

So when the Fields their flowry pomp display,

Sooth' d by the Spring's sweet Breath and chearing ray,

If Boreas then designing envious War,

Musters his swift-wing'd Legions in the Air,

And then for sure Destruction marches forth,

With the Cold Forces of the Snowy North.

The opening Buds and sprouting Herbs, and all

The tender First-Born of the Spring must fall.

The blighted Trees their blooming Honours shed,

And on their blasted Hopes the mournful Gard'ners tread.

The Fury strait compress'd the ambient Air

Moulded a shape, and did a Dress prepare

So just, that thus disguis'd the crafty Fiend,

Proud Algal seem'd the Peer's departed Friend.

A Mitre did his hoary Temples crown,

Pride in his Eyes, and on his Brow a frown.

Pondrous with Gold a Scarlet Cope made fast

With Silver Clasps, his Reverend Shoulder grac'd.

A low hung Robe as white as Snow he wore,

And in his hand a Golden Crosier bore.

She did a haughty Air and Mien assume,

Such as we see in the proud Sons of Rome.

Gravely she then advanc'd, and coming near

She stood, and thus bespoke the thoughtful Peer.

Let not my coming Morogan affright,

The Seats of Bliss and of Immortal Light.

Where ravish'd Minds their Golden hours employ

In drinking in unutterable joy,

By antient Friendship mov'd I now forsake

To give that Counsel Morogan should take.

While all your Inj'rys tamely you sustain,

You tempt th' Oppressor to encrease your pain.

Wrongs unreveng'd new suff'rings will invite,

And not asserting it, you yield your Right.

Prince Arthur and for ever may be curst

That impious Tongue, which call'd him Monarch first

The Britons and their Merit disregards,

And on the Neustrian only heaps Rewards.

These know his Secrets, and enjoy his Smiles,

Pamper'd with Ease, and rich with Albion's spoils.

The slighted Briton at a distance stands,

Not to receive his Favours, but Commands.

You that advanc'd him to th' Imperial Throne,

And for his safety did expose your own,

Who did till now his tott'ring Crown Support,

For this are banish'd from th' ungrateful Court.

Commands and Honours are confer'd on those

Who chiefly did his Arms, and yours oppose.

The Profits these enjoy, for which you fought,

And reap the Fields, which by your Blood were bought.

You all are left to tell of Camps and Wars,

To show your Wounds, and unrewarded Scars.

In vain your Merit in the Scale you lay,

Against your Neighbours Gold can Merit weigh?

This Court the Man that's useful now rewards,

And future Service, not the past regards

This Prince those Subjects only will prefer,

Who always please, or necessary are.

When Arthur first the Saxon did invade,

What Forces did you raise to bring him Aid?

What mighty Deeds were at Gallena done,

What Trophys by your Conqu'ring Sword were won?

What Strength, what Godlike Courage did you show,

Passing like Thunder thro' the broken Foe?

How much that glorious Day was due to you,

You beat the Foe, whom Arthur did pursue?

For this he envy'd your Heroic Fame,

And griev'd that yours did Rival Arthur's Name.

For this, from your Commands you are displac'd,

Strip'd of your Honours, and at Court disgrac'd.

Excess of Worth some as a Crime regard,

And hate the Vertue, which they can't reward.

The Merit which to these does most commend,

Is on their favour wholly to depend.

Your Vertues make you to the People dear,

And whom the People Love, ill Princes fear.

You once were Valu'd, when besmear'd with blood

You o'er the slaughter'd Saxons Conquering rode.

But now the Statesman does your hopes defeat,

And reaps the fruits of all your Blood and Sweat.

Your Merit ceases now the Foe's o'ercome,

The brave abroad fight for the Wise at home.

You are but Camp Camelions fed with Air,

Thin fame is all the bravest Hero's share.

Yet the good Monarch would no longer give

This meagre Sustenance on which you live.

His Ensigns he has wafted o'er the Main

New Laurels in the Gallic Fields to gain.

But you are left neglected here behind,

Such Scorn must deeply wound a generous Mind.

Solmar enjoys the Honour which to you

Is for your Courage and Experience due.

Your noble Soul this treatment does resent,

Nor do you spare to give your Passion vent.

But what will words do? they may prove a Crime

Dangerous indeed to you, but not to him.

Resentments till by sweet Revenge reveal'd,

Deep in your Breast should wisely be conceal'd.

Repeated threat'nings only wound the Air,

The Sword alone your Inj'rys can repair.

In vain your empty Words your Passion show,

He should not hear it, till he feel it too.

Heav'n now has plac'd Revenge within your power,

Had you a Heart to use the happy Hour.

While Arthur's absent from the British Isle

To seek new Triumphs in a Forreign Soil,

Some Pious Prelates are enrag'd to see

Their Prince protect audacious Heresy.

These in their Zeal to their Restorer cool,

Why should they serve a Prince they cannot Rule?

Adal and many Noble Leaders more

Who call'd their Hero from the Neustrian Shore,

Who from the Cliffs the Ocean oft survey'd,

And with Impatience dy'd to be delay'd;

Who, when he came, unheard of Joy exprest,

And their Deliverer, as they call'd him, blest;

Thousands of these grown Wiser wish to be

From their Deliv'rance, and Deliverer free.

Now the warm Passion has its Vigor spent,

They Cool to Sense, and their rash Choice repent.

Inlighten'd they, their fatal error own,

And crush'd beneath too much Redemption groan.

Power and Promotion were the dazling Prize,

The bright Illusion that engag'd their Eyes,

Which not obtain'd the strong enchantment's broke,

And now their Reason's free, they find the Yoke,

The heavy Yoke is not remov'd, the Name

Is only chang'd, the Thing is still the same.

Ill blood encreases thro' the murm'ring State,

And unpromoted Friendship turns to Hate.

Pernicious Counsellors your Prince misguide;

And from the People's Int'rest his divide.

These Sychophants address with Courtly Skill

Not to his Wants their Counsel, but his Will.

They hide ungrateful Truth and speak no more

Than what they knew would please their Prince, before.

Bright Schemes of Power before him they display,

And the sweet Charms of Independent Sway,

They tell him Kings then only great appear,

When Arm'd with Force they move their Subjects fear.

Princes whose Will pretended Law restrains,

Are only Royal Slaves, and rule in Chains.

That he's a King who triumphs free from Law,

Like the fierce Monarchs which the Desart awe.

Which uncontroul'd range the wild Mountains o'er,

And shake the Forest with their dreadful roar.

Whose haughty Nod the trembling Herds obey,

And are not Subjects only, but their Prey.

To such a Power they teach him to aspire,

And such a savage Empire to admire

More than Elysian Groves, and Spicy Woods,

And flowry Gardens stretcht along the Floods,

Ev'n more than Eden's Paradise, if there

Does one high Tree above his reach appear,

On which does hang the People's Golden Meat

Which Right protects, and Law forbids to Eat.

To ravish beauteous Liberty they first

Excite their Monarch, then assist his Lust.

By all her Crys unmov'd, and all her Charms

They bring her struggling to th' Oppressor's Arms.

These are the Tyrant's Pioneers that lay

All the high Fences flat, and clear the way

For his destructive Arms to fill with Spoil,

And fearful Ruin all their native Soil.

These in the Saxon Int'rest still abide,

And with design the lab'ring State misguide,

If Arms you take, no doubt but these will joyn,

And with their Squadrons aid the just design.

Others by favour rais'd to high Command,

Weak and unskilful in the Steerage stand,

To guide the Vessel, till 'tis almost lost

Midst frequent Rocks, and on a shoaly Coast.

Indulgent Heav'n of Miracles profuse

Religious admiration to produce,

Protecting Care has of the Britons shown,

Against their En'mys Wisdom, and their own.

But will you still on Miracles rely?

You must the means to heal the state apply,

The Sword's a sharp, but sov'raign Remedy.

She said. And from her odious head she tore

A chosen Viper swoln with pois'nous Gore,

She prest and grip'd him hard, and slash'd him thrice

Against the ground, to make his fury rise.

Then with a nimble hand the twining Beast

She secretly directed to his Breast.

Which pass'd as swiftly as a Parthian Dart,

Or pointed flame of Light'ning to his Heart.

Where while she fixt her Teeth, into the Wound

She prest out all th' envenom'd Juices found

In yellow Cells, wherewith her Jaws abound.

The secret Plague with which his heart was stung

Close to his Life in chill Embraces Clung.

A shiv'ring horror thro' his Vitals struck,

And every Limb with strong Convulsions shook.

The cold to heat no less excessive turn'd,

And with a suddain Fire the Briton burn'd.

All Ætna's Caves strove in his lab'ring Soul,

And Stygian Tempests in his veins did rowl.

His panting Heart threw out a boiling tide,

And circulating flames their winding Channels fry'd.

Distracting fury all the Man possest,

And Agonys of rage o'erwhelm'd his Breast.

Taking long strides sometimes he Slowly stalk'd,

And then Distracted rather ran, than Walk'd.

Oft stopping on a suddain would he stand

Striking his Breast, and stamping on the Sand.

Sometimes his Eyes were fixt upon the Ground,

Then starting up he wildly star'd around.

He bit his Lips, and with his Hands did tear

From his distemper'd Head his curling Hair.

Death! Heav'ns! 'tis so. Ungrateful Man. Abus'd.

Were broken Forms of Speech his Passion us'd.

Then on his mighty Sword he laid his Hand,

And mutt'ring to himself did threatning stand.

So when a Bull nodding his brindled Head,

And softly bellowing traverses the Mead,

While the warm Sun darts his indulgent Beams,

And most refines the Earth's exhaling Steams;

If then he finds th' invading Hornet cling,

Close to his Flank, and feels the poison'd Sting,

The wounded Beast enrag'd, and roaring out

Whisks round his Tail, and flings, and flys about:

Mad with th' adhering Plague's tormenting Pain,

He Scares the Herds, and raving scowrs the Plain.

Then her Disguise and Shape of Air dissolv'd

Which all her Monsters, and dire Limbs involv'd,

Strait did the Fiend her Stygian Wings display,

And to Miraldo's Palace flew away.

He, tho a Prelate was a Male-content,

Impetuous, hot, revengeful, turbulent.

False to his Vows, to Broils and Strife inclin'd,

A Mitred Christian with a Pagan Mind.

The Fury pois'd with her unerring Art

Her flaming Torch, and aim'd it at his Heart.

Across the Air the Firebrand swiftly flew,

And lightly pass'd his purple Garments thro'.

His Breast was strait on Fire, thro' every Vein

The hot Contagion did resistless reign.

The haughty Prelate strait outragious grew,

And wild and raving round the Palace flew.

His swelling Eyes did from their Orbit start,

And Streaks of Fire across th' Apartment dart.

He gnash'd his angry Teeth, his heaving Breast

And trembling Joynts the Fiend within confest.

So when surrounding Huntsmen cast a Shower

Of hissing Spears against some mighty Boar.

The grisly Beast provok'd with every Wound,

Rages, and casts his threatning Looks around.

High on his Back his furious Bristles rise,

And Lightning flashes from his raging Eyes.

He tosses Clouds of Foam amidst the Air,

And brandishing his Fangs invites the War.

Part of his over boyling Fury spent,

The Prelate spoke to give his Passion vent.

Do's Arthur thus my service past requite,

Despise my Power, and thus my Int'rest slight?

Is he so firm, so fixt upon his Throne,

That we Supporters once are useless grown,

Remov'd as Scaffolds now the Building's done?

My Power and Strength th' ungrateful King shall know

And find a Churchman is no vulgar Foe.

That the kind Miter must support the Crown,

That Arms are impotent without the Gown.

He shall a Churchman's Strength superiour find;

He rules the Body only, we the Mind.

Against their King my Sons will me obey,

My Power's Divine, and do's the Conscience sway.

The People of their Error I'll convince,

And make it Treason to obey their Prince.

Distracted thus he pass'd the wearing Night,

Watching with eager Eyes the springing Light.

And when the Morn did her grey Wings display,

From whence she gently shook the tender Day.

Strait Messengers he thro' Augusta sends

To call with Speed his most confiding Friends,

Who chiefly by his Eloquence was sway'd,

And his Advice as Oracles obey'd.

Of these deep Hate to Arthur some declar'd,

And for Rebellion had been long prepar'd.

These in the Church a Separation made

Because King Arthur she as Head obey'd.

Some whom Promotion only did convert

To Arthur's Cause, still lov'd his Foes at Heart.

By solemn Vow they did the Monarch own,

But labour'd hard to undermine his Throne.

While Albion's famous Church Obedience paid

And for the King her great Defender pray'd,

These few, for some amongst the best are bad,

Ev'n Christ among his twelve one Traitor had,

As open Schismaticks or secret Foes,

Did both the Pious Church and Pious King oppose.

'Tis true in Arthur's most auspicious Days,

The Peaceful Priesthood gain'd Immortal Praise:

Then noble Lights did in the Church appear,

And with their Orbs adorn'd her sacred Sphear.

Whose Pious Lives and Labours made her shine

With Heav'nly Graces, and with Truth Divine,

Whose learned Fame advanc'd her to the Skys,

And on her drew the World's admiring Eyes:

Then Tylon, Olbar, Arman, Orocon

Britannia's glorious Luminarys shone.

Then flourish'd Caledon great Tylon's Friend

Who to the Field King Arthur did attend.

Then flourish'd learned Aula void of Pride,

And Moran did his Church with Honour guide.

Then Patracan the Church's Fame increast,

And charming, sweet-tongued Fleta Albion blest.

These sacred Priests whom Albion most rever'd,

And thousands more to Arthur's Cause adher'd.

Yet some ev'n then were found, who did create

Disturbance in the Church, as well as State.

Men of aspiring Thoughts and restless Mind,

Who Grandeur and Terrestrial Pomp design'd.

Scepters Immortal, and high Thrones of Bliss

In the next World they mock'd, they'll reign in this.

Celestial Crowns did doubtful things appear,

These would be Mitred Kings, and triumph here.

Religion which their Heav'nly Founder taught,

To these seem'd Plain and Naked to a fault.

These to encrease her Charms did on her throw

Their gawdy Pomp, and Ceremonial Show.

Which soon her native Majesty did shrowd,

Her Form divine and Heav'nly Lustre cloud.

She groan'd beneath her Robe's unweildy Weight,

Eclips'd with Splendor, and debas'd with State.

Her Godlike Looks at first her Vot'rys saw

With Admiration, Love and sacred Awe.

These made her lovely Shape to be despis'd

Deform'd with Paint, with Ornament disguis'd.

Botran to every restless Spirit dear

Did at Miraldo's Palace first appear.

Inexorable Hatred, Pride unmixt

Desp'rate Revenge, and Malice deeply fixt,

With Wrath from every Stain of Love refin'd

Reign'd uncontroul'd in his envenom'd Mind.

The savage Spoilers of the Lybian wild

Compar'd with this fierce Man, are tame and mild.

His Parents got him in a sullen Mood,

Hell's Furys round th' unshap'd Conception stood,

And all their Poisons mixt in one green Flood:

Then the dire Medly from the flowing Bowl

They pour'd into his Veins, and thence into his Soul.

Each with his Torch the heaving Mass inspir'd,

And with their keenest Flames the Embryo fir'd.

Th' unhappy Parents Womb began to swell,

And quicken'd with the Joy and Hopes of Hell.

With mighty Pangs she brought the Monster forth,

And dy'd to give her odious Offspring Birth.

Her wretched Bowels with Convulsions rent

Th' exploded Thunderbolt midst Mortals sent.

Teeth from his Birth did arm his cruel Jaws,

And Nails his Hands, sharp as a Tyger's Claws,

Fierce as young Beasts of Prey he us'd to try

Upon his Nurse his Infant Cruelty.

Displeas'd with Milk he bit her swelling Breast,

And suck'd her Blood a more delicious Feast.

Young Birds and Beasts he strangled with his Hand,

And o'er their Torments would insulting stand.

Hell's greatest Masters all their Skill combin'd

To form and cultivate so fierce a Mind,

Till their great Work was to Perfection brought,

A finish'd Monster form'd without a Fault.

No Flaw of Goodness, no deforming Vein

Or Streak of Vertue did their Offspring stain.

Then Orban, Sobez, and Elbuna came

Whose Envy, Malice and ambitious Aim

With Botran's and Miraldo's were the same.

Tho' all a cruel Nature had exprest,

Botran in Rage and Spite surpass'd the rest.

Th' Assembly fill'd, Miraldo Silence broke

And in these Words his Reverend Friends bespoke.

Prelates you see how Arthur do's employ

His Art and Power our Altars to destroy.

This Prince against us has at last exprest

The Rancor long conceal'd within his Breast.

From us our due Protection he withdraws,

And breaks the Fences of our ancient Laws.

What dreadful Tempests o'er our Heads appear,

What Desolation may we justly fear,

Now all th' Entrenchments, and the sacred Mound

Now the high Pale is levell'd with the Ground,

Which Christ's Celestial Vine did once surround?

Wild Boars and Foxes will destroy her Fruit,

Tear up the Glebe, and gnaw her tender Root.

Now our Sectarian Foes in numerous Swarms

Will lay our Churches wast with furious Arms.

A Rout of raging Monsters will invade

The Heav'nly Vin'yard, now the Breach is made,

And all th' Inclosure is so open laid.

How can our Dignity be now upheld,

Since our coercive Laws are all repeal'd?

The Cement gone that held the Structure, all

The mould'ring Fabrick must decay and fall.

Stript of its Power who will our Gown revere,

Who will a Church unarm'd and naked fear?

Our Empire we no further shall extend,

Nor what we now possess, shall long defend.

We never shall unsheath this Monarch's Sword,

His Arms no Triumphs will to us afford.

He'll ne'er enrich us with Sectarian Spoil,

But when we push him forward will recoyl.

If impious Sects the sacred Mitre dare,

In vain we bid him undertake the War.

He unconcern'd our threat'ning Danger sees,

Nor will revenge our Wrongs and Injurys.

He to the Sects gives universal Ease,

And with our Foes has made a separate Peace:

Prelates, you see what lowring Clouds appear,

Which clearly show our certain Ruin near.

If still our Foes must this Indulgence boast,

The Church is faln, and all her Sons are lost.

Speak Prelates, what Expedient can we find

Whereby th' impending Storm may be declin'd.

Say, how this growing Mischief we shall stop,

And how our sinking Empire underprop.

Botran elated with Infernal Pride,

And urg'd with bitter Rancor thus reply'd.

Miraldo, Reverend Lords, do's truly state

Th' important Subject of this great Debate.

'Tis plain Sectarian Principles obtain,

And o'er the poison'd Court and Nation Reign.

The Sects are numerous, proud and haughty grown,

Find free Admission to the Prince's Throne.

Warm'd by the kind Indulgence of the Court,

Towring on high the busy Insects sport.

No more they dread the naked Church's Power,

But in their Monarch's Favour seem secure.

No Law restrains them, all our Hands are ty'd

And all Redress is to our Prayers deny'd,

And those they fear'd before, they now deride,

Crosiers their Hands, their Heads rich Mitres grace,

Who were the Offspring of Sectarian Race.

Sectarians o'er the Orthodox preside,

Who must the Church by Court-Direction guide.

They call them Men of Temper, Gentle, Meek,

They Peace pretend, and Moderation seek.

The Church by Condescention these betray,

And by reforming purge her Strength away.

How shall we Health to her pale Cheeks restore,

And to her Eyes the Beams they had before?

What Sov'raign Drug, what potent Remedy

Can we to save a sinking Church apply?

Since all our Wrongs and Fears from Arthur spring,

They're all remov'd, if he was not our King.

We guide their Conscience, and can soon provoke

Our zealous Friends to break th' Oppressor's Yoke.

Let us aloud the Church's Fears declare,

And for her sake engage her Sons in War.

Better a thousand Kings should quit their Throne,

Than such a Church as this should be undone.

Thus these two Prelates did the rest inflame,

And dar'd usurp the Church's sacred Name,

Tho she incens'd, the Faction did disclaim.

Mean time bold Morogan by Hell inspir'd,

Came to Miraldo and access desir'd.

The Prelate introduc'd him to the rest,

Who at his coming wondrous Joy exprest.

Then did Miraldo to the Peer relate

At large th' important Matter in debate:

And what the fittest means to them appear'd

T' avert the Church's Ruin which they fear'd.

Entring the Room he straightway silence broke,

And thus the Reverend Prelates he bespoke.

The gath'ring Tempest from Sectarian Foes

Impending o'er the Church still blacker grows.

Our Enemys, th' Inclosure open laid,

With their collected Force the Church invade:

Fathers who ne'er were Sons they now create,

To rule the Sacred Order which they hate.

Sectarian Swarms indulg'd o'erspread the Isle,

Devour the Church, and all the Land defile.

Nor do I only mourn the Churches Fate,

I dread th' approaching Ruin of the State.

Bleeding Britannia from her open Veins

Pours out a Crimson Deluge on the Plains.

Her Beauty faded, and her Vigor spent,

She feels her self grown Faint and Impotent.

What Foreign Soil hears not her dying Moans,

Bath'd with our Blood, and horrid with our Bones.

Outlandish Graves our bravest Youth entomb,

Or else they are swallow'd in the Ocean's Womb.

Her Wealth profusely spent, her Treasures gone,

Lost Albion is exhausted; spoil'd, undone.

No bounds are set to our increasing Woes,

Devour'd by Foreign Friends, and Foreign Foes.

O'erwhelm'd with Sorrow, Anguish and Despair,

With her sad Moans she wounds the ambient Air,

And to her Sons pours out this mournful prayer.

Ease me, my Sons, of my tormenting Pain,

Remove my Yoke, and break my pondrous Chain.

Will not my Wounds my Son's Compassion move?

Where is their ancient Courage, where their Love?

Arthur, restore my Valiant Legions lost

On Scandinavia's, and the Cimbrian Coast.

Restore my Noble Youth for my defence,

Protect not Forreign Realms at my expence.

My wasted Riches and my Ships restore,

Enrich not Neustria's Towns to make mine poor.

Relieve my Wants restore my Ease and Health,

And spread not neighb'ring Shores with British Wealth

Let not proud Rhenus and the Gallic Sein

Exhaust my Thames, and all her Treasures drain.

Call home my Armys who with fruitless toyl,

Pursue Ambitious Aims in Forreign Soil.

Protect my Commerce, and my Fleets encrease,

Make me again the Empress of the Seas.

Oh! Let th' insulting Corsairs be supprest,

Who in distructive Swarms my Coasts infest.

Chase this dire plague from my unguarded Shore,

Restore my Fleets, and they will Peace restore.

Can we her Sons see with relentless Eyes

Britannia's tears, and haer unmov'd, her crys?

Must not these Woes which threaten Church and State

Wound all our Souls and anxious care create?

How shall our Arts the lowring Storm dispel?

What lofty Works can this strong Tide repel?

Britannia must not sink, nor can we see

The Church o'er-run with monstrous Heresy.

We must our Altars with our Arms protect,

And guard our State which Arthur dos neglect.

Our Desolation from Destructive War

Moves not his Pity, nor employs his care;

While Dreams of Foreign Triumphs fill his Brain,

Domestic Evils unresisted reign.

If we Britannia love, we must apply

With speed some sharp and Soveraign Remedy.

By Camps and Battles Albion's strength decays,

The slow Disease upon her Vitals preys.

This Flux of Blood exhausts her flabby Veins,

And from the Springs of Life their Vigor drains.

Her noblest and her purest Spirits gone,

A windy Vapour swells her Veins alone.

Campaigns protracted and th' insatiate Womb

Of everlasting War her Wealth entomb.

We must debate how best her Wealth to save,

Princes impoverish first, and then enslave.

Adal and Barden to the Britons dear,

Who love their Country, and her ruin fear,

Organ and Subal who have still bewail'd

Their Country's fate, since Arthur first prevail'd,

These all by me engag'd, prepare to Arm,

You Church-men must assist and spread th' alarm.

No doubt some great Sectarians too will joyn,

Who from their Zeal to Arthur's Cause decline,

Who on their unrewarded Arms reflect,

Proud of their Worth, impatient of Neglect.

These with loud murm'rings all Britania fill,

Expose their Prince and boldly thwart his will.

These tho' they hate us, as we justly them,

Joyn with us Arthur's Conduct to condemn.

These raise Distrust, Suspition, Jealousy,

Which for Protection to Resistance fly.

These Passions soon in open Arms appear,

To guard against the Dangers, which they fear.

Thus far we'll call the Vile Sectarian Friend,

And use his Service to promote our End,

The Sects shall Aid, King Arthur to dethrone,

Then fall themselves, their chief Supporter gone.

He said, the Faction with a great Applause

Embrac'd the forward Champion of their Cause.

In solemn Vows th' ungrateful Rebels joyn

To execute with speed their black Design.

He whom with Prayers and Tears they did invite,

To ease their Suff'rings and assert their Right.

Who touch'd with God-like Pity, soon releast

These wretched Slaves by Pagan Foes opprest,

By whose blest Arms Deliv'rance did appear

Strange and amazing, as their Dangers were;

He's by ungrateful Murmurers defam'd,

By those his Power protects, Oppressor nam'd.

For now the dreadful Storm is over blown,

And all the hideous shapes of Terror gone,

Now Barb'rous Gods and Barb'rous Kings no more

Oppress despairing Albion as before,

These Men no more their great Restorer own,

But would the Prince that sav'd their Church dethrone.

So when good Moses set his Hebrews free

From the strong Jaws of Savage Tyranny,

Working a thousand Miracles to raise

Their Admiration, and excite their Praise;

They, rescu'd from the proud Oppressor's Hand,

And plac'd in Prospect of the promis'd Land,

Forgot the Wonders in their Favour shown,

Wonders by their Ingratitude outdone.

They soon their great Deliv'rer did despise,

And mock the Freedom, which with earnest Crys

And endless Groans they importun'd the Skys.

So long with Egypt's Leeks and Onions fed

They soon began to loath their Heav'nly Bread,

They would again be back to Egypt led.

They to their Chains and Brick-kilns would return,

And sore the loss of Egypt's Bondage mourn.

Of their Deliv'rance so did these repent,

And so revile the glorious Instrument.

They did their great Restorer dare condemn,

And all the Wonders which he wrought blaspheme.

Again the Slaves require their scourging Rods,

Their Saxon Masters, and their Pagan Gods.

Now open War the Rebels did proclaim,

And with their Slanders wounded Arthur's Fame.

A thousand Falshoods did the Traitors vent,

T' embroil the Realm and Tumults to foment.

Their crafty Arts wrought up the People's Rage,

And in Rebellion did weak Minds engage.

As when high Winds on the vast Ocean blow;

The swelling Surges strait tumultuous grow:

Mad with their Rage they beat with fearful Strokes

Their batt'ring Heads against th' opposing Rocks.

On some while rushing forward, some recoil,

And with wild Uproar all the Deep embroil.

Along the Coasts th' outragious Billows roar,

Or dash themselves to sleet upon the Shore.

Rebellion, Fury, Insurrection reign

O'er the vext Empire of the spacious Main.

So did these Agitators loud Alarms

Embroil Britannia with seditious Arms.

The common Clamour was, Religion's gone,

The Church is ruin'd, and the State undone.

Atheists bewail the Church's wretched Fate,

And Beggars fear the Ruin of the State.

The Vicious and Prophane their Armour take,

Fond of Rebellion for Religion's sake.

Those who derided all her sacred Laws

Appear, as Champions of the Church's Cause.

Those who on Tyrants lov'd to fawn, and still

Enslav'd thtir Country to their boundless Will.

Who did her ancient Laws and Rights betray,

Now most complain of arbitrary Sway.

Mean time fell out a luckless Incident,

Which did Sedition's spreading Flame foment,

And favour'd much the Traytors black Intent.

Augusta's Fleet equipt with mighty Cost,

Each Year the Ocean pass'd to Asia's Coast.

As oft return'd with Triumph from abroad

In Albion's Ports her Treasures to unload.

Hence Albion Empress of the Seas possest

All the Delights and Riches of the East.

Then in her Towns did wondring Strangers see

Arabian Wealth, and Tyrian Luxury.

The Pious King whose Vigilance and Care

Attended all Concerns of Peace and War,

Whose Breast felt only this ambitious Aim

To raise Britannia's Glory, Wealth, and Fame,

Sends out a Warlike Squadron to protect

This Navy which Augusta did expect.

The Squadron well equipt advanc'd to meet

And guard from Pyrates Rage the Asian Fleet.

With prosp'rous Gales they pass'd the narrow Tyde

That do's Iberia from the Moor divide.

But now the gath'ring Clouds began to rise,

And lab'ring Winds convey'd them up the Skys.

A dreadful Storm ensued, Fire, Hail and Rain

Beat with an unknown Fury on the Main.

Such Thunderclaps, such Winds, such Waves did roar

As never tremb'ling Saylors heard before.

Experienc'd Captains gray in Danger grown

Stood now amaz'd and did their Terror own.

In vain to stop their leeking Ships they try'd,

In vain the Pump, in vain the Rudder ply'd,

In vain they cut their Masts, or furl'd their Sails,

The Sea's resistless, and the Storm prevails.

Some Vessels with inevitable Shocks

Were dash'd to pieces on the craggy Rocks.

Some overset, some founder'd, some the Sand

Suck'd in, and some were lost upon the Strand.

Britannia's scatter'd Wreck and Warlike Stores

With endless Spoils o'erspread Iberia's Shores.

The Warlike Squadron lost, that should secure

Britannia's Asian Fleet from hostile Power,

When thrice Aurora's bright disshevel'd Hair

Had chas'd the Shades from all th' inlighten'd Air,

In with the Foe the wealthy Navy fell,

And strove in vain their Fury to repel.

For Lusitania won with Gallic Gold,

Their Corsair's Service had to Clotar sold.

Clotar did these and many more employ

The British Coasts and Commerce to annoy.

These prosp'rous Robbers seize the noble Prey,

And to their Ports Britannia's Spoils convey.

When these ill Tydings to Augusta came,

The Rebels thro' the Streets the Loss proclaim,

And on the pious King reflect the Blame.

Their Mouths a thousand black Invectives vent,

And with infernal Malice represent

Th' indulgent King as one who would betray

Their Naval Strength, and wish'd their Trade's Decay.

Thus the seditious Flame they did foment,

And into Rage blew up the Discontent.

As when the Sun to th' Artick Line returns,

And with a scorching Ray the Harvest burns,

Emptys the Rivers, and the Marshes drys,

Chaps the hard Plain, and russet Meadow frys,

If in some Town a Fire breaks out by chance,

Th' impetuous Flames with lawless Power advance:

On ruddy Wings the bright Destruction flys,

Follow'd with Ruin, and amazing Crys.

The flaky Plague spreads swiftly with the Wind,

And ghastly Desolation Howls behind.

So soon Sedition reer'd her hissing Head,

So swiftly did her raging Poison spread.

Thus did the Fury Albion's State embroil,

And with Distraction fill th' unquiet Isle.

So far her Undertaking did succeed;

All Hell had joy, and triumph'd in the Deed.

That done, the Fiend left the sweet Realms of Light,

And sinking, plung'd her self in Stygian Night.