Page:Ecclesia and Factio.pdf/17

 Why ſo Diſturb’d, ſo Scornful, and ſo High? You’re but a Weather-cock as well as I. Boaſt of fix’d Fundamentals, yet I find, For Intereſt, you can Turn with ev’ry Wind. Where’s Right Divine, your Paſſive, and your Non, The Bubble’s once blown up, now, Poh, they’re gon. Where is your Loyalty, ſo ſubt’ly ſhown, Sometimes to th’ Prince, and ſometimes to the Throne, Sometimes to both, ſometimes to ne’er a one: Thus is it Logically plac’d behind So many School-boys Querks, ’tis hard to find.
 * When the great Change (by Heav’ns permition) try’d

Your Churches Doctrine, and her Clergies Pride, Some Conſcientious Fools, ’tis true, turn’d out, But all the Wiſer Sheepheards fac’d about; And, like good Men, could blacken and upbraid That ſinking Pow’r, for which before they Pray’d.

As the beſt Weapon, of Offence, to uſe, Whether, on ſearch, it True, or Falſe be found, No matter which, if you can make it wound. But know my Armour’s temper’d againſt Fate; And much to hard, for you to penetrate: The Iron Walls, my treaſur’d Truths defend, Reverb’rate all the poiſonous balls you ſend.
 * You charge me with the want of Loyalty,

That am the chief ſupport of Monarchy:

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