The Storm. An Essay.

The Queens Just Government to undermine;
This is enough to wake the Dead,
The Call's too loud, it never shall be said270
The lazy Satyr slept too long,
When all the Nations Danger Claim'd his Song.

Rise Satyr from thy sleep of legal Death,
And reassume Satyrick Breath;
What tho' to Seven Years sleep thou art confin'd,
Thou well may'st wake with such a Wind.
Such Blasts as these can seldom blow,
But they're both form'd above and heard below.
Then wake and warn us now the Storms are past,
Lest Heaven return with a severer Blast.280
Wake and inform Mankind
Of Storms that still remain behind.

If from this Grave thou lift thy Head,
They'll surely mind one risen from the Dead.
Tho' Moses and the Prophets can't prevail,
A Speaking Satyr cannot fail.
Tell 'em while secret Discontents appear,
There'll ne'er be Peace and Union here.
They that for Trifles so contend,290
Have something farther in their End;
But let those hasty People know,
The Storms above reprove the Storms below,
And 'tis too often known,
The Storms below do Storms above Forerun;

They say this was a High-Church Storm,
Sent out the Nation to Reform;
But th' Emblem left the Moral in the Lurch,
For't blew the Steeple down upon the Church.
From whence we now inform the People,
The danger of the Church is from the Steeple.300
And we've had many a bitter stroke,
From Pinacle and Weather-Cock;
From whence the Learned do relate,
That to secure the Church and State,
The Time will come when all the Town
To save the Church, will pull the Steeple down.

Two Tempests are blown over, now prepare
For Storms of Treason and Intestine War.
The High-Church Fury to the North extends,
In haste to ruin all their Friends.310
Occasional Conforming led the Way,
And now Occasional Rebellion comes in Play,
To let the Wond'ring Nation know,
That High-Church Honesty's an Empty Show,
A Phantasm of Delusive Air,
That as Occasion serves can disappear,
And Loyalty's a sensless Phrase,
An Empty Nothing which our interest sways,
And as that suffers this decays.

Who dare the Dangerous Secret tell,320
That Church-men can Rebel.
Faction we thought was by the Whigs Engross'd,
And Forty One was banter'd till the Jest was lost.
Bothwel and Pentland-Hills were fam'd,
And Gilly Cranky hardly nam'd.
If Living Poets Dare not speak,
We that are Dead must Silence break;
And boldly let them know the Time's at Hand.
When Ecclesiastick Tempests shake the Land.
Prelatick Treason from the Crown divides,330
And now Rebellion changes sides.
Their Volumes with their Loyalty may swell,
But in their Turns too they Rebel;
Can Plot, Contrive, Assassinate,
And spight of Passive Laws disturb the State.
Let fair Pretences fill the Mouths of Men,
No fair Pretence shall blind my Pen;
They that in such a Reign as this Rebel
Must needs be in Confederacy with Hell.
Oppressions, Tyranny and Pride,
May give some Reason to Divide;240
But where the Laws with open Justice Rule,
He that Rebels Must be both Knave and Fool.
May Heaven the growing Mischief soon prevent,
And Traytors meet Reward in Punishment.

FINIS