Page:A Satyr Against Hypocrites - Philips (1655).pdf/13

 And here he cries, Blood, blood, blood, destroy, O Lord! The Covenant-breaker, with a two edg'd sword. Now comes another, of another strain, And he of Law and Bondage doth complain: Then shewing his broad teeth, and grinning wide, Aloud, Free grace, free grace, free grace, he cry'd. Up went a Chaplain then, fixing his eye Devoutly on his Patron's gallery, Who as duty binds him, cause he eats their pyes, God bless my good Lord and my Lady, cryes, And's hopeful Issue. Then with count'nance sad, Up steps a man stark revelation mad, And he, Cause us thy Saints, for thy dear sake, That we a bustle in the world may make, Thy enemies now rage, and by and by He tears his throat for the fift Monarchy. Another mounts his chin, East, West, North, South, Gaping to catch a blessing in his mouth, And saying, ''Lord! we dare not ope our eyes'' Before thee, winks for fear of telling lies. Mean while the vulgar frie sit still, admiring Their pious sentences, as all inspiring; At every period they sigh and grone, Though he speak sometimes sense, and sometimes none: Their zeal doth never let them mind that matter, It is enough to hear the Magpy chatter; They croud, they thrust, are crouded, and are thrusted, Their pews seem pasties, wherein they incrusted, Together bake and fry; O patience great! Yet they endure, though almost drown'd in sweat. It seem'd as if those steaming vapours were To stew hard doctrines in, and to prepare Their rugged doubts, that might breed some disease Being tak'n raw in queasie consciences. But further mark their great humility, Their tender love, and mutual charity, The short man's shoulder bore the tall man's elbow, Nor he so much as call'd him Scurvy fellow, Wrath