THE NATIVES: AN ANSWER TO THE FOREIGNERS.  
Note, That the Author has taken Care to follow the Method of the Foreigner as near as reasonably he could, by which Means this Poem wants the Coherence that otherwise it might have had. And the Reader may likewise observe, that every Line of this Poem is closed with the very same Word the Foreigner has made use of.  
LONDON: Sold by John Nutt near Stationers-Hall.   

The Natives.  

NO wonder Isra'l is deprived of Rest,  
When under various Factions She's oppressed;  
Fools of all sorts those giddy Mortals craved,  
Whose stubborn Maxims Isra'l's State enslaved:  
Their Deeds were wicked, and they Grace disowned,  
Under which Weight unhappy israel groaned.  
With Envy's Eye the Best of KINGS they view,  
and ne'er content, seek always for a New.  
To rob us of our Houses, or our Lives,  
Ravish our Daughters, or debauch our Wives,  
These Men are apt: And for polluted Loves,  
As prone as Brutes that lurk in Woods and Groves.   

To a near Nation israel had recourse,  
To mend the State, still made by Factions worse:  
From Hebron She a Royal PRINCE did bring,  
Unhappy made, by being Isra'l's King:  
From His True Line succeeding Kings did flow,  
That Isra'l's heavy Toil did undergo.  
To wiser Sons true Freedom still remains,  
But Brutes still fear, what they deserve, their Chains.  
At length their horrid Passion did arise,  
And by their Hands the Royal Martyr dies.  
This hellish Act was by those Rebels done,  
Who, not content, did then Exile His 
* Ch. II.  Son:  
But in the Suffering of that Wanderer,  
Thou, israel, knowst how much Thyself did share.   

At last, when found'ring on their Native Shelves,  
And justly fearful to intrust Themselves,  
To the Right Heir Isra'lites did resort,  
And found a PRINCE their Country to support;  
One whose Brave Actions, were they justly told,  
Might style him Wise, and generously Bold;  
Skilful in War, Undaunted still in Fight,  
Commanding Hosts, which Armies put to flight:  
One, when he from the Toil of War did cease,  
Can Govern any State, but This, in Peace:  
Him they approved, when ushered to their sight,  
Deservedly both God and Man's Delight.  
Welcomed He was unto the longing Land,  
And Jewry's People covered all the Strand.  
With joyful Hearts He was received on Shore,  
Such who of God this Blessing did implore.   

The Sanhedrim convened, took in debate  
The past Condition of the sinking State;  
And Church itself, just ready now to drown,  
They, to preserve it, did the Hero Crown.   

Ah, happy israel! had there never come  
Into His Court Seditious Knaves at home,  
No Evils could have rose from foreign Brood;  
For Isra'l's Sons were Foes to Isra'l's Good.  
'Twas they who introduced intestine Jars,  
And pilfered what should have maintained our Wars;  
Isra'l's People were to themselves a Prey,  
Misled their King, and turned their Hearts away:  
The Common Interest thus they did divide,  
And cramped the State with Treachery and Pride:  
They, Viperlike, empoisoned the Land,  
And would have had all israel at Command.  
Should it be found that foreign Inmates spoil,  
It's what they're taught by Natives of the Soil.  
Unto our Monarch there are Honours due;  
To envy Strangers none but we e'er do.  
When foreign States to Isra'lites gave Food,  
They neither Water drew, nor cut their Wood  
What mushroom Honours does our Soil afford?  
Who was the Beggar that is now a Lord?  
Most Jewish Nobleses generous Souls do wear,  
And Freeborn Commons no Affronts will bear;  
But may Historians the true Story tell,  
Of thy Base Sons, unhappy Israel!  
And now, my Muse, be Generous and Brave,  
The Nation's Crimes from dark Oblivion save,  
To future Ages thou shalt now disclose,  
That Isra'l's Sons are worst of Isra'l's Foes.  
That Country which lies East from Judah's Shoar,  
Hears blust'ring Winds, and swelling Billows roar;  
A Land it is, not like to other Soils,  
But gained from Sea, and well secured with Piles.  
No need of Quarries to secure the Ground,  
For Art has every where a Rampart found.  
The People's Industry, and share of Grace,  
Does far transcend great part of Jewish Race;  
And what from Neptune's Element they've drawn,  
Shows they're derived from something else than Spawn.  
To us they leave our darling dainty Meat,  
While they grow Rich, and Rusk with Beef they eat;  
Such Food with our nice Stomaches ne'er agrees,  
First being pampered, than we cram down Cheese.  
No Supplications to false Gods They move,  
Nor by Their Actions dare Almighty Jove.  
Grant they the Briny Deities invoke,  
That in their Marshes nimble Frogs do croak;  
These Watery Gods look on amazed, and see  
How they have laboured to embrace their Sea.  
Neptune, who does that Element Command,  
Oft takes a Survey of the happy Land;  
And placed upon a Billow of the Sea,  
With Pleasure does, what was his own, survey.  
Not these the People can our State molest,  
But inbred Quarrels do disturb our Rest.   

BENTIR, among the Foreigners the First,  
By none but Isra'l's Malcontents e'er cursed;  
Not made by his Great Master's Favours Proud,  
Nor shunned by Rich, nor hated by the Crowd;  
True Faith this King he may justly boast,  
A Virtue much 'mong Jewish People lost;  
For which 'tis hard if not some Share he gains,  
Of what was lost by Jewish People's Pains.  
The Sanhedrim angry, did Grants resume,  
And Men of Jewry also then did plume.  
How do the Gibeonites our Land engross!  
Don't Jew's, Themselves grow Rich by Jewish loss?  
In foreign States they'd better seek Command,  
And meet with Quiet in a grateful Land:  
For Isra'l's Honour let it be decreed,  
That Jews rend Birthrights from the Jewish Seed.  
Why may not BENTIR in the Head appear  
Of Warriors, who do Jewish Ensigns bear?  
You han't so many dexterous Men in War.  
The Grandsires to our Fathers oft might tell,  
That by the Sword there many Thousands fell,  
What Deeds, perhaps, had formerly been done,  
What Battles fought, what mighty Honours won:  
Can israel e'er more justly boast of Fame,  
Than now She can, under this Monarch's Name.  
Grant our Forefathers wondrous Hero's were,  
That Jewry then on Jewry did make War;  
That in those Broils they did improve their Skill,  
That Sons the Fathers, they their Sons did kill;  
Must now the same Experiments be made?  
No; better use the Pick-ax and the Spade:  
For tho' i the Field Conquests we have wrought,  
Let no more bloody Battles here be fought.   

If Foreigners do take their share in War,  
Why then in Council should they not appear?  
Why should not Isra'l choose to make him Great,  
Who's always been a Friend unto the State?  
Call up the Ancient Sages of Renown,  
And Magi's too, fit to advise the Crown,  
They'll not find us by Foreigners undone.  
Unhappy israel, who such Measures takes,  
Plunge down your Factious Crew in Bogs and Lakes;  
They do the Office of the basest Slaves,  
And write the Language of some Jewish Knaves;  
And tho' the State is wounded by their Throats,  
Yet do their Words agree with Jewish Notes.  
May their Intestine Jars themselves confound,  
In Jewry's Land ne'er more let's hear their Sound.  
Such Villainies were by the Serpent spoke,  
When Mother Eve from him the Apple took:  
Of Her and Them we well may be ashamed,  
For by their Infidelity we're damned.   

Bentir, content when he enjoyed Command,  
Ne'er parcell'd out the Men of Jewry's Land.  
Did other Courts e'er challenge him with Pride?  
What foreign State could his sole Power divide?  
Oh happy Hiram! joyful be thy Song,  
Since born to Empire, thou'lt be always Young:  
Thou in thy Nonage need not Right transfer,  
For living Youth wants no Executor.  
What Power need Land of Jewry e'er afford,  
To make a Constant Faithful Servant Lord?  
Why should not Merit and Reward accord?  
The Rights of Jewish People are the same,  
Nor differ they either in Place or Name;  
Mankind stand now as formerly they stood,  
For Noah Reigned after the mighty Flood.  
Admit that Hirams People have a Choice  
To make a King by their united Voice,  
Israel's People a Monarch too may choose;  
Yet Malcontents will still their Choice refuse.  
That Hirams People, let it ne'er be said,  
Have Right to choose a King when he is dead;  
When a Successor to the Crown's in sight,  
The Crown is surely that Successor's Right.  
King's are not Kings when Subjects they enthral;  
israel had better have no King at all:  
But NASSAV, given us for the Common Good,  
Has always as our Guardian-Angel stood.  
Thank then kind Heaven, that, by its wiser Power,  
Gave us a King, who will not us devour:  
If Him we love, secure we are ourselves,  
We shall not split on dangerous Rocks or Shelves.   

Consider then, Oh israel, and beware  
How you distrust your Royal Wanderer.  
The Realms of Others Fortune may divide;  
Your Constitution can't be set aside;  
Think ye he'll o'er Himself in Triumph ride?  
Wherefore support your Monarch and His Crown,  
And pull all senseless, factious Infects down.   

And now, my Muse, the Story next relate  
Of Noble KEPPECH, who's no Chit of State:  
To Honours raised, and by a Lawful Course;  
Would Isra'l never had produced a worse!  
Foreign his Birth, and Well-descended too;  
May He and Bentir generous Acts still do;  
May he still keep his well-deserved State,  
His Faithful Service on Great NASSAV wait,  
Whose grateful Badge upon his Breast he wears,  
No Ancient Title from our Roll he tears.  
Was e'er a headstrong People thus befooled?  
Was ever israel thus by israel gulled?  
Ye Jewish Nobleses think upon your Race,  
What Badges did your Ancient Father's grace;  
That Jewry ne'er had better Times than when  
Virtue stepped foremost to Ennoble Men.  
To Chivalry when e'er you have recourse,  
Let Factious Ass supply the Place of Horse.  
Why should you not your Ancient Honours own,  
And show you can't by Strangers be outdone?  
Your wont Courage you may reassume,  
And to assert your Rights you may presume;  
But if from other's Heads you Laurels tear,  
Will it be thought you Generous Noble's are?   
THE END.   

The Foreigners.  

LONG time had Israel been disused from Rest,  
Long had they been by Tyrants sore oppressed;  
Kings of all sorts they ignorantly craved,  
And grew more stupid as they were enslaved;  
Yet want of Grace they impiously disowned,  
And still like Slaves beneath the Burden groaned:  
With languid Eyes their Race of Kings they view,  
The Bad too many, and the Good too few;  
Some robbed their Houses, and destroyed their Lives,  
Ravished their Daughters, and Debauched their Wives;  
Profaned the Altars with polluted Loves,  
And worshipped Idols in the Woods and Groves.   

To Foreign Nations next they have recourse;  
Striving to mend, they made their State much worse.  
They first from Hebron all their Plagues did bring,  
Crammed in the Single Person of a King;  
From whose base Loins ten thousand Evils flow,  
Which by Succession they must undergo.  
Yet sense of Native Freedom still remains,  
They fret and grumble underneath their Chains;  
Incensed, enraged, their Passion does arise,  
Till at his Palace-Gate their Monarch dies.  
This Glorious Feat was by the Fathers done,  
Whose Children next deposed his Tyrant Son,  
Made him, like Cain, a murderous Wanderer,  
Both of his Crimes, and of his Fortune's share.   

But still resolved to split on Foreign Shelves,  
Rather than venture once to trust Themselves,  
To Foreign Courts and Councils do resort,  
To find a King their Freedoms to support:  
Of one for mighty Actions famed they're told;  
Profoundly wise, and desperately bold,  
Skilful in War, Successful still in Fight,  
Had vanquished Hosts, and Armies put to flight;  
And when the Storms of War and Battles cease,  
Knew well to steer the Ship of State in Peace.  
Him they approve, approaching to their sight,  
Loved by the Gods, of Mankind the Delight.  
The numerous Tribes resort to see him land,  
Cover the Beach, and blacken all the Strand;  
With loud Huzza's they welcome him on shore,  
And for their Blessing do the Gods implore.   

The Sanhedrim convened, at length debate  
The sad Condition of their drooping State,  
And Sinking Church, just ready now to drown;  
And with one Shout they do the Hero crown.   

Ah Happy Israel! had there never come  
Into his Councils crafty Knaves at home,  
In combination with a Foreign Brood,  
Sworn Foes to Israel's Rights and Israel's Good;  
Who impiously foment Intestine Jars,  
Exhaust our Treasure, and prolong our Wars;  
Make Israel's People to themselves a Prey,  
Misled their King, and steal his Heart away▪  
United Interests thus they do divide,  
The State declines by Avarice and Pride;  
Like Beasts of Prey they ravage all the Land,  
Acquire Preferments, and usurp Command:  
The Foreign Inmates the Housekeepers spoil,  
And drain the Moisture of our fruitful Soil.  
If to our Monarch there are Honours due,  
Yet what with Gibeonites have we to do?  
When Foreign States employ 'em for their Food,  
To draw their Water, and to hue their Wood  
What Mushroom Honours does our Soil afford!  
One day a Beggar, and the next a Lord.  
What dastard Souls do Jewish Nobles wear!  
The Commons such Affronts would never bear.  
Let no Historian the sad Stories tell  
Of thy base Sons, Oh servile Israel!  
But thou, my Muse, more generous and brave,  
Shalt their black Crimes from dark oblivion save;  
To future Ages shalt their Sins disclose,  
And brand with Infamy thy Nation's Foes.  
A Country lies, due East from Judah's Shoar,  
Where stormy Winds and noisy Billows roar;  
A Land much differing from all other Soils,  
Forced from the Sea, and buttressed up with Piles.  
No Marble Quarrys bind the spongy Ground,  
But Loads of Sand and Cockle-shells are found:  
Its Natives, void of Honesty and Grace,  
A Boorish, rude, and an inhuman Race;  
From Nature's Excrement their Life is drawn,  
Are born in Bogs, and nourished up from Spawn.  
Their hard-smoaked Beef is their continual Meat,  
Which they with Rusk, their luscious Manna, eat;  
Such Food with their i'll Stomaches best agrees,  
They sing Hosannah to a Mare's-milk Cheese.  
To supplicate no God, their Lips will move,  
Who speaks in Thunder like Almighty Jove,  
But watery Deities they do invoke,  
Who from the Marshes most Divinely croak.  
Their Land, as if ashamed their Crimes to see,  
Dives down beneath the surface of the Sea.  
Neptune, the God who does the Seas command,  
Ne'er stands on Tiptoe to descry their Land;  
But seated on a Billow of the Sea,  
With Ease their humble Marshes does survey.  
These are the Vermin do our State molest;  
Eclipse our Glory, and disturb our Rest.   

BENTIR in the Inglorious Roll the first,  
Bentir to this and future Ages cursed,  
Of mean Descent, yet insolently Proud,  
Shunned by the Great, and hated by the Crowd;  
Who neither Blood nor Parentage can boast,  
And what he got the Jewish Nation lost:  
By lavish Grants whole Provinces he gains,  
Made forfeit by the Jewish People's Pains;  
Till angry Sanhedrims such Grants resume,  
And from the Peacock take each borrowed Plume.  
Why should the Gibeonites our Land engross,  
And aggrandise their Fortunes with our loss?  
Let them in foreign States proudly command,  
They have no Portion in the Promised Land,  
Which immemorially has been decreed  
To be the Birthright of the Jewish Seed.  
How ill does Bentir in the Head appear  
Of Warriors, who do Jewish Ensigns-bear?  
By such we're grown even Scandalous in War.  
Our Father's Trophies wore, and oft could tell  
How by their Swords the mighty Thousands fell;  
What mighty Deeds our Grandfathers had done,  
What Battles fought, what Wreaths of Honours won:  
Thro the extended Orb they purchased Fame,  
The Nations trembling at their Awful Name:  
Such wondrous Heroes our Forefathers were,  
When we, base Souls! but Pigmies are in War:  
By Foreign Chieftains we improve in Skill;  
We learn how to entrench, not how to kill:  
For all our Charge are good Proficients made  
In using both the Pickax and the Spade.  
But in what Field have we a Conquest wrought?  
In Ten Years War what Battle have we fought?   

If we a Foreign Slave may use in War,  
Yet why in Council should that Slave appear?  
If we with Jewish Treasure make him great,  
Must it be done to undermine the State?  
Where are the Ancient Sages of Renown?  
No Magis left, fit to advise the Crown?  
Must we by Foreign Councils be undone?  
Unhappy Israel, who such Measures takes,  
And seeks for Statesmen in the Bogs and Lakes;  
Who speak the Language of most abject Slaves,  
Under the Conduct of our Jewish Knaves.  
Our Hebrew's murdered in their hoarser Throats;  
How ill their Tongues agree with Jewish Notes!  
Their untuned Prattle does our Sense confound,  
Which in our Princely Palaces does sound;  
The self same Language the old Serpent spoke,  
When misbelieving Eve the Apple took:  
Of our first Mother why are we ashamed,  
When by the selfsame Rhetoric we are damned?   

But Bentir, not content with such Command,  
To canton out the Jewish Nation's Land;  
He does extend to other Coasts his Pride,  
And other Kingdoms into Parts divide:  
Unhappy Hiram! dismal is thy Song▪  
Tho born to Empire, thou art ever young!  
Ever in Nonage, canst not Right transfer:  
But who made Bentir thy Executor?  
What mighty Power does Israel's Land afford?  
What Power has made the famous Bentir Lord?  
The People's Voice, and Sanhedrim's Accord.  
Are not the Rights of People still the same?  
Did they e'er differ in or Place or Name?  
Have not Mankind on equal Terms still stood,  
Without Distinction, since the mighty Flood?  
And have not Hirams Subjects a free Choice  
To choose a King by their united Voice?  
If Israel's People could a Monarch choose,  
A living King at the same time refuse;  
That Hirams People, shall it e'er be said,  
Have not the Right of Choice when he is dead?  
When no Successor to the Crown's in sight,  
The Crown is certainly the People's Right.  
If Kings are made the People to enthral,  
We had much better have no King at all:  
But Kings, appointed for the Common Good,  
Always as Guardians to their People stood.  
And Heaven allows the People sure a Power  
To choose such Kings as shall not them devour:  
They know full well what best will serve themselves,  
How to avoid the dangerous Rocks and Shelves.   

Unthinking Israel! Ah henceforth beware  
How you entrust this faithless Wanderer!  
He who another Kingdom can divide,  
May set your Constitution soon aside,  
And o'er your Liberties in Triumph ride.  
Support your Rightful Monarch and his Crown,  
But pull this Proud, this croaking Mortal down.   

Proceed, my Muse; the Story next relate  
Of Keppech the Imperious Chit of State,  
Mounted to Grandeur by the usual Course  
Of Whoring, Pimping, or a Crime that's worse;  
Of Foreign Birth, and undescended too,  
Yet he, like Bentir, mighty Feats can do.  
He robs our Treasure, to augment his State;  
And Jewish Nobles on his Fortunes wait:  
Our ravished Honours on his Shoulder wears;  
And Titles from our Ancient Rolls he tears.  
Was e'er a prudent People thus befooled,  
By upstart Foreigners thus basely gulled?  
Ye Jewish Nobleses, boast no more your Race,  
Or sacred Badges did your Father's grace!  
In vain is Blood, or Parentages, when  
Ribbons and Garters can ennoble Men.  
To Chivalry you need have no recourse,  
The gaudy Trappings make the Ass a Horse.  
No more, no more your Ancient Honours own,  
By slavish Gibeonites you are outdone:  
Or else your Ancient Courage reassume,  
And to assert your Honours once presume;  
From off their Head your ravished Laurels tear,  
And let them know what Jewish Nobleses are.   
THE END.