THE PRESBYTERIANS.

THAT stubborn crew

Of errant saints whom all men grant
To be the true Church Militant.
Such as do build their faith upon
The holy text of pike and gun;
Decide all controversies by
Infallible artillery;

And prove their doctrine orthodox
With apostolic blows and knocks;
Call fire and sword and desolation
A godly, thorough Reformation,
Which always must be going on,
And still be doing, never done,
As if Religion were intended
For nothing else but to be mended:
A sect whose chief devotion lies
In odd, perverse antipathies,
In falling out with that or this
And finding somewhat still amiss;
More peevish, cross, and splenetic
Than dog distract or monkey sick :
That with more care keep holyday
The wrong, than others the right way;
Compound for sins they are inclined to
By damning those they have no mind to.
Still so perverse and opposite

As if they worshipped God for spite,
The self-same thing they will abhor
One way and long another for;
Freewill they one way disavow,
Another, nothing else allow;
All piety consists therein
In them, in other men all sin.
Rather than fail they will defy
That which they love most tenderly;
Quarrel with mince-pies, and disparage
Their best and dearest friend plum-por-
ridge;

Fat pig and goose itself oppose,
And blaspheme custard through the nose.

Not to be forfeited in battle.
If he that in the field is slain
Be in the bed of honor lain,
He that is beaten may be said
To lie in honor's truckle-bed.
For as we see the eclipsed sun
By mortals is more gazed upon
Than when, adorned with all his light,
He shines in serene sky most bright,
So valor in a low estate

Is most admired and wondered at.

[From Hudibras, Part II.]
NIGHT.

THE sun grew low and left the skies,
Put down, some write, by ladies' eyes,
The moon pulled off her veil of light
That hides her face by day from sight
(Mysterious veil, of brightness made
That's both her lustre and her shade!),
And in the lantern of the night
With shining hours hung out her light;
For darkness is the proper sphere
Where all false glories use to appear.
The twinkling stars began to muster
And glitter with their borrowed lustre,
While sleep the wearied world relieved,
By counterfeiting death revived.

MORNING.

THE sun had long since in the lap
Of Thetis taken out his nap,
And, like a lobster boiled, the morn
From black to red began to turn.

HONOR.

He that is valiant and dares fight,
Though drubbed, can lose no honor by't.
Honor's a lease for lives to come,
And cannot be extended from
The legal tenant: 'Tis a chattel

SPIRITUAL TRIMMERS.

SOME say the soul's secure Against distress and forfeiture; Is free from action, and exempt From execution and contempt; And to be summoned to appear In the other world's illegal here; And therefore few make any account Into what encumbrances they run't.

For most men carry things so even
Between this world and hell and heaven,
Without the least offence to either
They freely deal in all together,
And equally abhor to quit

This world for both, or both for it;

And when they pawn and damn their souls

They are but prisoners on paroles.

Our bravery's but a vain disguise
To hide us from the world's dull eyes,
The remedy of a defect

With which our nakedness is decked,
Yet makes us smile with pride and boast
As if we had gained by being lost.

MARRIAGE.

[From Hudibras, Part III.]

THERE are no bargains driven; Nor marriages, clapped up in heaven, And that's the reason, as some guess, There is no heaven in marriages. Two things that naturally press Too narrowly to be at ease, Their business there is only love, Which marriage is not like to improve: Love that's too generous to abide To be against its nature tied; For where 'tis of itself inclined It breaks loose when it is confined, And like the soul, its harborer, Debarred the freedom of the air, Disdains against its will to stay, And struggles out and flies away, And therefore never can comply To endure the matrimonial tie That binds the female and the male, Where the one is but the other's bail, Like Roman jailers, when they slept Chained to the prisoners they kept.

UPON THE WEAKNESS AND MISERY OF MAN. [From Miscellanies.] OUR pains are real things, and all Our pleasures but fantastical. Diseases of their own accord, But cures come difficult and hard. Our noblest piles and stateliest rooms Are but outhouses to our tombs; Cities though ne'er so great and brave But mere warehouses to the grave.

DISTICHS AND SAWS.
[From Hudibras and Miscellanies.]

RHYME the rudder is of verses, With which like ships they steer their

courses.

In the hurry of a fray
'Tis hard to keep out of harm's way.
Honor is like a widow, won

With brisk attempt and putting on,
With entering manfully and urging;
Not slow approaches, like a virgin.

Great commanders always own What's prosperous by the soldier done.

Great conquerors greater glory gain
By foes in triumph led than slain.

Ay me! what perils do environ
The man that meddles with cold iron!

Valor's a mousetrap, wit a gin,
That women oft are taken in.

In all trade of war no feat
Is nobler than a brave retreat,
For those that run away and fly
Take place at least of the enemy.
He that runs may fight again,
Which he can never do that's slain.

Fools are known by looking wise,
As men tell woodcocks by their eyes.
Night is the sabbath of mankind
To rest the body and the mind.

As if artillery and edge-tools
Were the only engines to save souls!

Money that, like the swords of kings,
Is the last reason of all things.

He that complies against his will
Is of his own opinion still.

Those that write in rhyme still make The one verse for the other's sake.

He that will win his dame must do
As Love does when he bends his bow:
With one hand thrust the lady from,
And with the other pull her home.

What is worth in anything
But so much money as 'twill bring?

The Public Faith, which every one
Is bound to observe, is kept by none.

He that imposes an oath makes it,
Not he that for convenience takes it.
Opinion governs all mankind,
Like the blind's leading of the blind.

The worst of rebels never arm
To do their king and country harm,
But draw their swords to do them good,
As doctors use, by letting blood.

The soberest saints are more stiff-neckèd
Than the hottest-headed of the wicked.

Wedlock without love, some say, Is like a lock without a key.

Too much or too little wit
Do only render the owners fit
For nothing, but to be undone
Much easier than if they had none.

In little trades more cheats and lying
Is used in selling than in buying;
But in the great unjuster dealing
Is used in buying than in selling.

Loyalty is still the same, Whether it win or lose the game; True as the dial to the sun, Although it be not shined upon.

The subtler all things are, They're but to nothing the more near.

Things said false and never meant Do oft prove true by accident.

Authority is a disease and cure Which men can neither want nor well endure.

My eye, descending from the hill, surveys,

Where Thames among the wanton valleys strays;

Thames, the most loved of all the ocean's

sons

By his old sire, to his embraces runs, Hasting to pay his tribute to the sea, Like mortal life to meet eternity. Though with those streams he no remembrance hold,

Whose foam is amber and their gravel gold,

His genuine and less guilty wealth to explore,

Search not his bottom but survey his shore,

O'er which he kindly spreads his spacious wing

And hatches plenty for the ensuing spring,

And then destroys it with too fond a stay

YOUNG LOVE.

COME, little infant, love me now,
While thine unsuspected years
Clear thine aged father's brow

From cold jealousy and fears.

Pretty surely 'twere to see

By young Love old Time beguil'd, While our sportings are as free

As the nurse's with the child.

Common beauties stay fifteen;

Such as yours should swifter move, Whose fair blossoms are too green Yet for lust, but not love.

Love as much the snowy lamb,
Or the wanton kid, does prize

As the lusty bull or ram

For his morning sacrifice.

Now then love me: Time may take

Thee before thy time away; Of this need we'll virtue make,

And learn love before we may.

So we win of doubtful fate,

And, if good to us she meant,
We that good shall antedate,
Or, if ill, that ill prevent.

Thus do kingdoms, frustrating
Other titles to their crown,
In the cradle crown their king,
So all foreign claims to drown.

So to make all rivals vain,

Now I crown thee with my love: Crown me with thy love again, And we both shall monarchs prove.

A DROP OF DEW.
SEE, how the orient dew,
Shed from the bosom of the morn,
Into the blowing roses,

(Yet careless of its mansion new, For the clear region where 'twas born, Round in itself incloses