No More Learning

1



When Hodge had numbered up how many score
The airy pyramid contained, he swore
No mortal wight e'er climbed so high before.
To the best vantage placed, he views around
The imperial town, with lofty turrets crowned ;
That wealthy storehouse of the bounteous flood.
Whose peaceful tides o'erflow our land with

good;
Confused forms flit by his wandering eyes,
And his rapped soul *s o'erwhelmed with extasies.
Some god it seems has entered his plain breast,
And with 's abode the rustic mansion blessed ;
A mighty change he feels in every part.
Light shines in 's eyes, and wisdom rules his

heart.
So when her pious son fair Venus showed
His flaming Troy, with slaughtered Dardans

strewed,



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OP MARYELL. 271

She purged his optics, filled with mortal night.
And Troy's sad doom he read by heaven's light.
Such light divine broke on the clouded eyes
Of humble Hodge.

Regions remote, courts, councils, policies,
The circling wiles of tyrants* treacheries
He views, discerns, unciphers, penetrates,
From Charles's Dukes, to Europe's armed

states.
First he beholds proud Rome and France com-
bined,
By double vassalage to enslave mankind ;
That would the soul, this would the body sway,
Their bulls and edicts none must disobey.
For these with war sad Europe they inflame,
Rome says for God, and France declares for

fame.
See, soni^ of Satan, how religion's force
Is gentleness, fame bought with blood a curse.
He whom all styled ^ Delight of human kind,"
Justice and mercy, truth with honour joined ;
His kindly rays cherished the teeming earth.
And struggling virtue blessed with prosperous

birth.
Like Chaos you the tottering globe invade,
Religion cheat, and war ye make a trade.
Next the lewd palace of the plotting King,
To 's eyes new scenes of frantic folly bring.
Behold (says he) the fountain of our woe.
From whence our vices and our ruin flow.



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272 THE POEII8

Here parents their own offspring prostitute.
By such vile arts to obtain some viler suit.
Here blooming youth adore Priapus' shrine,
And priests pronounce him sacred and divine.
The goatish god behold in his alcove,
(The secret scene of damned incestuous love)
Melting in lust, and drunk like Lot, he lies
Betwixt two bright daughter-divinities.
Oh ! that like Saturn he had eat his brood.
And had been thus stained with their impious

blood;
He had in that less ill, more manhood showed.
Cease, cease, (O Charles) thus to pollute our

isle.
Return, return, to thy long-wished exile ;
There with thy court defile thy neighbour-
states.
And with their crimes precipitate their fates.
See where the Duke in damned divan does sit,
To *8 vast designs wracking his pigmy wit ;
Whilst a clioice senate of the Ignatian crew.
The ways to murder, treason, conquest show.