THE learned write, an infect breeze

Is but a mongrel prince of bees,
That falls before a storm on cows,

And stings the founders of his house;
From whose corrupted flesh that breed
Of vermin did at first proceed.

5

So, ere the storm of war broke out,
Religion spawn'd a various rout
Of petulant capricious fects,
The maggots of corrupted texts,

That first run all religion down,
And after ev'ry fwarm its own:
For as the Perfian Magi once

Upon their mothers got their fons,

10

That were incapable t' enjoy

15

That empire any other way;

So Prefbyter begot the other

Upon the good old cause, his mother,
That bore them like the devil's dam,
Whofe fon and husband are the fame;
And yet no natʼral tie of blood,
Nor int'reft for their common good,
Could, when their profits interfer'd,
Get quarter for each other's beard:

20

For when they thriv'd they never fadg'd,
But only by the ears engag'd;

Like dogs that fnarl about a bone,

And play together when they've none;
As by their truest characters,

Their constant actions, plainly appears.
Rebellion now began, for lack
Of zeal and plunder, to grow flack;
The cause and covenant to leffen,
And providence to b' out of feafon :
For now there was no more to purchase
O' th' king's revenue, and the churches,
But all divided, fhar'd, and gone,
That us'd to urge the brethren on;
Which forc'd the stubborn'ft for the cause,
To cross the cudgels to the laws,

That what by breaking them they 'ad gain'd, By their support might be maintain’d;

25

ვი

35

40