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perly parts of it, though they are also distinct stories of themselves. In both of these I have made use of the common-places of satire, whether true or false, which are urged by the members of the one church against the other: at which I hope no reader of either party will be scandalized, because they are not of my invention, but as old, to my knowledge, as the times of Boccace and Chaucer on the one side, and as those of the Reforma. tion on the other.

THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.

A Milk-white Hind, immortal and unchang’d,

Fed on the lawns, and in the forest rang'd;
Without unspotted, innocent within,
She fear'd no danger, for the knew no sin.
Yet had the oft been chas’d with horns and hounds,
And Scythian Mafts ; and many winged wounds
Aim'd at her heart; was often forc'd to fly,
And doom'd to death though fated not to die.

Not so her young; for their unequal tine
Was hero's make, half human, half divine.
Their earthly mold obnoxious was to fate,
Th’immortal part assum'd immortal state.
Of these a laughter'd army lay in blood,
Exten o'er the Caledonian wood,
Their native walk; whose vocal blood arose,
And cry'd for pardon on their perjur’d foes.
Their fate was fruitful, and the sanguine feed,
Endued with souls, increas'd the sacred breed.

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So captive Ifrael multiply'd in chains,
A numerous exile, and enjoy'd her pains.
With grief and gladness mix'd, the mother view'd
Her martyr'd offspring, and their race renewd;
Their corps to perish, but their kind to laft,
So much the deathless plant the dying fruit furpass'd.

Panting and pensive now she rang'd alone,
And wander'd in the kingdoms, once her own.
The common hunt, though from their

rage

restrain'd By sovereign power

her
company

disdain'd;
Grinn'd as they pass’d, and with a glaring eye
Gave gloomy ligns of secret enmity.
'Tis true, she bounded by, and trip'd so light,
They had not time to take a steady fight.
For truth has such a face and such a mien,
As to be lov'd needs only to be seen.

The bloody bear, an independent beaft,
Ünlick’d to form, in groans her hate expreft.
Among the timorous kind the quaking hare
Profess'd neutrality, but would not swear.
Next her the buffoon ape, as atheists use,
Mimick'd all sects, and had his own to chuse :
Still when the lion lock’d, his knees he bent,
And paid at church a courtier’s compliment.
The bristled baptist boar, impure as he,
But whitend with the foam of sanctity,
With fat pollutions fill’d the sacred place,
And mountains level'd in his furious race :
So first rebellion founded was in grace.

But

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But since the mighty ravage, which he made
In German forests, had his guilt betray'd,
With broken tusks, and with a borrow'd name,
He shun’d the vengeance, and conceal'd the shame;
So lurk’d in sects unseen. With greater guile
False Reynard fed on consecrated spoil:
The graceless beast by Athanasius first
Was chas'd from Nice, then by Socinus nurs'd :
His impious race their blasphemy renew'd,
And nature's king through nature's optics view’d.
Revers’d they view'd him lessen'd to their eye,
Nor in an infant could a God descry.
New swarming sects to this obliquely tend,
Hence they began, and here they all will end.

What weight of antient witness can prevail,
If private reason hold the public scale ?
But, gracious God, how well dost thou provide
For erring judgments an unerring guide !
Thy throne is darkness in th' abyss of light,
A blaze of glory that forbids the fight.
O teach me to believe thee thus conceal'd,
And search no farther than thyself reveal'd;
But her alone for my director take,
Whom thou hast promis'd never to forsake !
My thouglıtle's youth was wing’d with vain desires,
My manhood, long milled by wandering fires,
Follow'd false lights; and, when their glimpse was gone,
My pride struck out new sparkles of her own.
Such was I, such by nature still I

am ; Be thine the glory, and be mine the shame.

Good

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Good life be now my talk : my doubts are done: What more could fright my faith, than three in one ? Can I believe eternal God could lie Disguis'd in mortal mold and infancy? That the great Maker of the world could die? And after that trust my imperfect sense, Which calls in question his omnipotence ? Can I my reason to my faith compel ? And Mall my sight, and touch, and taste,' rebel ? Superior faculties are set aside ; Shall their subservient organs be my guide ? Then let the moon usurp the rule of day, And winking tapers Thew the sun his way; For what my senses can themselves perceive, I need no revelation to believe. Can they who say the host should be descry'd By sense, define a body glorify'd ? Impassable, and penetrating parts ? Let them declare by what mysterious arts He shot that body through th' opposing might Of bolts and bars impervious to the light, And stood before his train confess’d in open fight. For since thus wondrously he pass’d, 'tis plain, One single place two bodies did contain. And sure the fame omnipotence as well Can make one body in more places dwell. Let reason then at her own quarry fly, But how can finite grasp infinity ?

'Tis urg'd again, that faith did first commence By miracles, which are appeals to sense,

And

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