Epigram 1: Curse, exorcize, with beads, with booke, &

Curse, exorcize, with beads, with booke, & bell
Poluted shauelings: rage and doe your worst:
Vse coniurations till your bellies burst,
With many a Nigromanticke mumbling spell,
I feare you not, nor all your friends that fell
With Lucifer: ye damned dogs that durst
Deuise that thundring treason most accurst,
Whose like before was neuer hatchd in hell:
Halfe men, halfe deuils, who neuer dreamd of good,
To you from faire and sweetly sliding Thames,
A popomasticke Sculler war proclaimes,
As to the suckers of imperiall blood.
An Anti-Iesuit Sculler with his pen,
Defies your Babell Beast, and all his den.