History & Politics
Epistle XLVII. To his reverend Friend Dr. S. on his pious and learned Book
From Songs and Other Poems (1664)
The times are chang'd, and the misguided rout,
Now tug to pull in, what they tumbled out:
And with like eagerness, the factious crew,
Who ruin'd all, are now expos'd to view:
Their vizor's off, and now we plainly see
Both what they are, and what they aim'd to be,
And what they meant to do to us and ours,
If either ours or we were in their pow'rs.
That vip'rous brood of Levi who gnaw'd through
Their mothers bowels, and their Fathers too,
To break a passage to their lewd designes
have found th' effects of all their under-mines;
And see themselves out-acted in their show,
By sucking Sprouts, that out of them did grow.
They're now out-wink'd, out-fasted, and out-tongu'd,
Their Pupils reap those fields which they had dung'd:
Who split the Church into so many Schisms,
The zeal of these eats others Patriarchisms:
And Vermin-like they do that Corps devour,
Whose putrefaction gave them life and pow'r:
Now they repent (though late) and turn to you,
Of the Old Church that's constant, pure, and true.
Thanks to such lights as you are, you have stay'd
In that firm truth, from which they fondly stray'd,
Endur'd reproach, and want, all violent shocks,
Which rowl'd like Rillows, while you stood like Rocks,
Unmov'd by all their fury, kept your ground,
Fix'd as the Poles, whiles they kept twirling round:
Submitted to all rage, and lost your all,
Yet ne'r comply'd with, or bow'd knee to Baal.
You preach'd for love of preaching, with desire
T' instruct, and to reform, while pay and hire,
Which made them preach, were a'n away from you;
You still strove on, and led the people through
That Wilderness of errour, into which
Those Ignes fatui, tempted by the itch
Of Pride and change had led them, when the Times
Envying your worth, voted your Sermons crimes;
And made it Treason to relieve or hear you;
And constituted to affront and jeer you;
Those Patentees of graces and good livings,
Grown rich with fees, & fat with full thanksgivings;
Who rowl'd a stone upon your mouths for fear
Truth would find out a resurrection there:
Then from the press you piously did shew
What, why, and how, we should believe and know;
And pray and practice; made it out to us,
Why our Church-Institutes were these and thus;
And how we ought t' observe them, so that we
May find them that, which of themselves they be,
Commands and comforts: This Sir we do find
Perform'd by this rare issue of your mind:
Your pious and your profitable lines,
Which can't be prays'd by such a pen as mine's,
But must b' admir'd and lov'd, and you must be
For ever thank'd and honour'd too by me,
And all that know or read you; since you do
Supply the pious and the learned too.
So well, that both must say, to you they ow
What good they practise, and what good they (know.
Cite this poem
MLA
Brome, Alexander. “Epistle XLVII. To his reverend Friend Dr. S. on his pious and learned Book.” Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/brome/151/.
Chicago
Brome, Alexander. “Epistle XLVII. To his reverend Friend Dr. S. on his pious and learned Book.” Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/brome/151/.
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