Or, where in tempefts icy mountains roll,
Attempt a paffage by the Northern pole?
Or dar'st thou parch within the fires of Spain,
Or burn beneath the line, for Indian gain?
Or for fome Idol of thy Fancy draw,

35

Some loofe-gown'd dame; O courage made of straw!
Thus, defp'rate Coward! would't thou bold appear,
Yer when thy God has plac'd thee Centry here,
To thy own foes, to his, ignobly yield,
And leave, for wars forbid, th' appointed field? 40
Know thy own foes; th' Apoftate Angel, he
You ftrive to please, the foremost of the Three;
He makes the pleasures of his realm the bait,
But can he give for Love, that acts in Hate?
The World's thy fecond Love, thy fecond Foe, 45
The World, whofe beauties perifh as they blow,
They fly, fhe fades hertelf, and at the belt
You grafp a wither'd trumpet to your breast.
The Flesh is next, which in fruition waftes,
High flufh'd with all the fenfual joys it tastes
While men the fair, the goodly Soul destroy,
From whence the flesh has pow'r to rafte a joy.
Seekft thou Religion, primitively found
Well, gentle friend, but where may fhe be found?
By Faith Implicite blind Ignaro led,
55
Thinks the bright Seraph f.om his Country fled,
And feeks her feat at Rome, because we know
She there was feen a thousand years ago;

And loves her Relick rags, as inen obey

The foot cloth where the Prince fat yesterday.

Thefe pageant Forms are whining Obed's fcorn,

Who feeks Religion at Geneva born,

50

60

1

A fullen thing, whofe coarfenefs fuits the crowd, Tho' young, unhandsome; tho' unhandfome, proud; Thus, with the wanton, fome perverfely judge 65. All girls unhealthy but the Country drudge.

Nor foreign schemes make eafy Cœpio roam, The man contented takes his Church at hoine; Nay fhould fome Preachers, fervile bawds of gain, Should fome new Laws, which like new-fafhions reign, Command his faith to count Salvation ty'd

To visit his, and vifit none beside,

He grants Salvation centers in his own,
And grants it centers but in his alone:

71

From youth to age he grafps the proffer'd dame, 75
And they confer his Faith, who give his Name :
So from the Guardian's hands, the Wards who live
Enthrall'd to Guardians, take the wives they give.
From all profeffions careless Airy flies.

For, all profeffions can't be good, he cries,
And here a fault, and there another views,
And lives unfix'd for want of heart to chufe :

80

So men, who know what fome loofe girls have done, For fear of marrying such, will marry none.

The Charms of all obfequious Courtly ftrike; 85 On each he doats, on each attends alike; And thinks, as diff'rent countries deck the dame, The dreffes altering, and the fex the fame; So fares Religion, chang'd in outward fhew, But 'tis Religion ftill, where'er we go: This blindness fprings from an excefs of light, And men einbrace the wrong to chule the right. But thou of force mult one Religion own, And only one, and that the Right alone.

To find that Right one, ask thy Rev'rend Sire; 95
Let him of his, and him of his enquire ;
Tho' Truth and Falfhood feem as twins ally'd,
There's Elderfhip on Truth's delightful fide,

Her feek with heed who feeks the foundelt First Is not of No Religion, nor the worst.

T'adore, or fcorn an Image, or proteft,

May all be bad: doubt wifely for the best;
'Twere wrong to fleep, or headlong run aftray;
It is not wand'ring, to inquire the way.

100

On a large mountain, at the Bafis wide, 1ος ང་ Steep to the top, and craggy at the fide, "Sits facred Truth enthron'd; and he who means To reach the fummit, mounts with weary pains, "Winds round and round, and ev'ry turn effays Where fudden breaks relift the fhorter ways. 110 Yet labour fo, that, ere faint age arrive, Thy fearching foul poffefs her Rett alive; To work by twilight were to work too late, And Age is twilight to the night of fate. To will alone, is but to mean delay; To work at prefent is the use of day,

115

For man's employ much thought and deed remain, "High Thoughts the Soul, hard deeds the body ftrain: "And Myft'ries afk believing, which to View Like the fair Sun, are plain, but dazzling too.

Be Truth, fo found, with facred heed poffeft, Not Kings have pow'r to tear it from thy breast, By no blank Chartres harm they where they hate, Nor are they Vicars, but the Hands of Fate. Ah! fool and wretch, who let'ft thy foul be ty'd 125 To human Laws! Or muft it so be try'd?

Or will it boot thee, at the latest day,
When Judgment fits, and Juftice afks thy plea,
That Philip that, or Greg'ry taught thee this,
Or John or Martin? All inay teach amiss:
For, ev'ry contrary in each extream
This holds alike, and each may plead the fame.

130

Would't thou to Pow'r a proper duty fhew? 'Tis thy firft rafk the bounds of pow'r to know; The bounds once past, it holds the name no more, 135 Its nature alters, which it own'd before, Nor were fubmiffion Humbleness expreft, But all a low Idolatry at best.

Pow'r, from above fubordinately spread, Streams like a fountain from th' eternal head; 140 There, calm and pure the living waters flow, But roar a Torrent or a Flood below; Each How'r, ordain'd the Margins to adorn,

Each native Beauty from its roots is torn,

And left on Deferts, Rocks, and Sands, or toft 145 All the long travel, and in Ocean loft:

So fares the foul, which more that Pow'r reveres Man claims from God, than what in God inheres.

This noble Similitude, with which the Satire concludes, Dr. Parnell did not feem to understand, and fo was not able to exprefs, in its original force. Dr. Donne fays,

,,As ftreams are, Pow'r is; thofe bleft flow'rs that dwell
,,At the rough Streams calm head, thrive, and do well;
But having left their roots, and themselves given
,,To the Streams tyrannous rage, alas, are driven

,,Through mills, rocks, and woods, and at last, aimoft
Confam'd in going, in the Sea are loft.

,,So perifh Souls, &c.

Dr. Donne compares Power or Authority to Streams; and Souls to Flowers; but not being fo explicite in the latter, Dr. Parnell overlooked that part, and fo has hurt the whole thought, by making the Flowers passive; whereas the Original fays they leave their roots; and give themselves to the stream: that is, wilfully prefer human Authority to divine; and this makes them, the objec of his Satire; which they would not have been, were they irrefiftibly carried away, as the Imitation supposes.