satire TO HIS MUSE. By the Author of ABSALON & ACHITOPHEL.  
Quo liceat libris non licet ire mihi  
Turpiter huc illuc Ingeniosus eat.  
LONDON, Printed for D. Green, 1682.   

satire TO HIS MUSE, etc.  
HEar me dull Prostitute worse than my Wife,  
Like her the shame and clog of my dull Life,  
Whose first Essay was in a Tyrant's praise,  
Bawdy in Prologues, Blasphemous in Plays,  
So lewd thou mad'st me for the Church unfit,  
And I had starved but for a lucky hit,  
When the weak Ministers implored my Wit;  
Stolsed me from Business where I might have made  
A Solid fortune to thy Barren Trade,  
My Father wisely bade me be a Clerk,  
Thou wisperd'st, Boy be thou a Tearing Spark,  
I from that Fatal hour new hopes Pursued,  
Set up for Wit and Aukwardly was Lewd,  
Drunk'gainst my Stomach against my Conscience Swore,  
Against my Will I Marry, d a rank W—  
After two Children and a Third Miscarriage,  
By Brawny Brothers hectored into Marriage,  
Affected Rapes and Lusts I'd never known,  
As if that all Gomorrah was my own.  
Nor Love nor Wine could ever see me Gay,  
To writing bred I knew not what to Say,  
With Scolding Wife and Starving Chits Beset,  
When I want Money and no Friend will Treat,  
Cheered with one Cup of thy Castalian Spring,  
I can Abuse the Church, my Friend, and King;  
Tell him, he's jilted, fooled, led by the Nose,  
Then like Almanzor turn upon his Foes;  
Libel his Mistresses and Statesemen too,  
Then o'er his Whoring life old David Throw,  
By whom Vriah was so basely Slain,  
But our good Monarch spares his Castle—  
And Oats his Plots and Treasons swears in vain;  
Defame the Men that gave me Meat and Clothes,  
And then Deny it with a thousand Oaths.  
Adriel to Please, call Rochester a Fool,  
Sidley a Capuchin, and sharp Dorset Dull.  
I like Boroskie by the false Count hired,  
On Scroop my Blunderbuss of satire fired,  
In cool Blood called him Fool, Knave, Coward too,  
What more to Hall or Cranborn could I do,  
Who long enjoyed ere I began to Woe,  
Thou'lt say perhaps what is all this to thee,  
If I a Coward, Cuckold, Villain be;  
Oh but thou shouldst thy sacred aid Refuse,  
When I Invoke it to so base an use,  
Blunt of my Murdering Pen, the kill Point,  
And Honestly refuse the Odious Hint,  
But thou ne'er comest so gladly to my call,  
As when on merit unprovok't I fall,  
Is there a Patriot to be defamed,  
Lady abused or Virtuous Action blamed,  
Thou with Officious haste rankst every word,  
And giv'st thy Raging 〈◊〉 a sharp Sword,  
Devils to Witches are not more at Hand,  
Than thou when I an Helli●● task Command,  
To thee ungratful! what has Monmoth done,  
That Parson like thou callest him Absalon,  
And by that Name dost Foolishly infer,  
He from old David's Head the Crown would Tear?  
Was he Ambitious he had kept his Place,  
Stood high in David's a● the People's Grace,  
And warlike chief of the Praetorian Bands,  
To the whole Nations Hearts had joined their Hands,  
Of Public good dissembled his deep Care,  
With the false jebusite a while kept Fair,  
Then in some great decisive glorious Day,  
Make those vile Cormorants disgorge their Prey,  
Our Church, Riligion, Freedom and our Laws,  
Those Darling-Morsels of their longing Jaws,  
(Wife Stanley thus till Bosworths' fatal Day,  
Did seeming Faith to Cruel Richard Pay,  
But left the Tyrant in the heat of fight,  
And brought success to Harry's drooping right.  
Monmoth's brave mind could no disguise endure,  
Still Noble ways preferring to secure;  
While David lavishes his People's love,  
He buys the Purchase, with design t'improve;  
And like some prudent Kinsman reconvey  
What the wild Heir hath vainly thrown away,  
Lest the Great Ancient Family decay.  
Good honest David, why wouldst thou have made,  
Of such a Son, and Parliaments, afraid?  
Which whilst he Sways, what Faction dares dispute,  
Or who can say, He is not Absolute▪  
Through them he may command the People's Purse,  
And spend their Wealth and Blood without a Curse;  
By Laws they would a Popish Heir Exclude,  
Not by Rude Force, or a Tumultuous Crowd.  
Against Navarre the Factious Princes Leagued,  
And the right Heir the Papal World Entrigued;  
When a long War had placed him on the Throne,  
The State Religion he was forced to own;  
The harmless People took it in good Part,  
The Zealous Church yet Stabbed him to the Heart,  
Taught by all Story there was no defence,  
But they must change their Faith or change their Prince;  
Who would not here the like extremes Prevent,  
And settle things by aid of Parliament.  
Thou only Court presiding at the Helm,  
Which mak'st all others useful to the Realm;  
Inferior Judges Trembling to decree,  
What may hereafter be Condemned by thee,  
The Chancellors and ill Staesmens' only Dread,  
For it is thou alone can reach their Head,  
By theefell Wolsey and false Clarend  
Abandoned by their Kings but here undone;  
Both overwhelmed for daring to Remove,  
Or Stem the Torrent of their Master's Love,  
The one fair Bullen to his Prince denied,  
The other made Loved Stuart Richmond's Bride,  
And with the Royal Blood for ever mingled Hide,  
To their own Ruin can men all Agree,  
And none the precipice but Courtiers See.  
Courtiers who Importune the Sovereign,  
To Pardon Robbers Cutthroats for their gain.  
Who live on Idiots, Lunatics forfeits Fines,  
And cannot Thrive but when the Nation Pines,  
Unhappy we if ruled by such, whose Rent  
Consists in Breaches of the Government.  
Some few there are with great Estates indeed,  
Yet Labour with Imaginary need,  
Strange sort of Fools who for one Pension more,  
Enslave themselves and all they had before,  
Others with titles and new Earldoms Caught,  
Would give up all for which the Barons Fought,  
They're equally unfit for Government.  
Who nothing have or nothing will Content.  
Who bade thee, in Achitophel's vile Name,  
Old David's Errors and his Faults Proclaim.  
Or say" Plots True or False are needful things,  
" To set up Common Wealths and pull down Kings,  
" That David (whom thou dost with reverence name)  
" Charm'd-into ease, grows careless of his Fame;  
" And bribed with Petty sums of Foreign Gold,  
" Is grown in Bathshebas embraces Old,  
" That like the Prince of Angels, from his Height,  
" He now comes downward with diminished Light.  
If David once ill Language lay to Heart,  
Who shall the Poet from the Traitor part.  
The people's voice, of old, the voice of God,  
Thou call'st the voice of an unruly Crowd;  
Crowds are the Fools,—  
That Flock to thine, and Durfeys Loyal Plays,  
And give Implicit Claps on your Third Days;  
About the Stage of Mountebank they Wait,  
And Whoop at Cudgels, or a broken Pate,  
But have like thee, no Interest in the State.  
Rule as thou wilt the Realm of Mexico,  
And under Iron Yokes make Indians Bow,  
But with old England what hast thou to Do;  
Who from our Kings an useful Power would take,  
(Nor have they Power but for the People's Sake,)  
Disarm themselves and Anarchy Bespeak,  
King's may do good at their full Stretches of Will,  
And need not for a strain, or Law stand still;  
They spare with Mercy, though with Judgement Kill,  
Confined like God, only from doing Ill:  
Thus in our Papal fire, to save the Town,  
Some houses were blown up, and some pulled down;  
None blamed the Order, since 'twas understood  
A private mischief, for the public good.  
Tho we all perish, yet we must forbear  
The Sacred Title of a Popish Heir,  
If we thy foolish Politics should Hear;  
A Sovereign Power somewhere there must be,  
In King, in Lords, in Commons, or all Three,  
Derived from God, and only less than His,  
Which can do all, and nothing do Amiss;  
The Sacred Ties of marriage can Dissolve,  
And Children in their Parents crimes Involve,  
Making those Bastards, who had else been Heirs,  
And Injured Husbands, legal Widowers:  
Cut off Entails, make New repeal old Laws,  
And of contending Kings, decide the Cause.  
Thus from the Helm our Learned Richard thrust,  
Confessed their Power, and owned their Sentence just.  
And on the Throne our brave Fourth Edward State,  
Whilst Harry lived a Prisoner of the State.  
Alphonso thus deposed for his weak Life,  
Pedro enjoyed his Kingdom and his Wife;  
There jus Divinum barks not at his Right,  
Damns not his Rule by Day, nor Love by Night;  
In his Defence each private man may Kill;  
Must then a Nation Perish, and stand Still?  
If for our Laws, Faith, God, we may not Fight,  
When can a Christian Sword be in the Right?  
Oh the Prodigious Wit, and wondrous Sting;  
To call Achit' phells Son, Unfeathered two legged Thing?  
So by old Pluto man was once defined,  
Till a pulled Cock that Notion undermined.  
Thy Amiel with Bull jonas self may Vie,  
For all but Courage, Wit, and Honesty.  
As loud he roared against the Prerogative,  
As sharply blamed as Stingily would give,  
Till his own wants obliged him to receive,  
And on his cheated Sire he could no longer live,  
Whose whole Estate when he in Trust had got,  
Thy honest Amiel grudged him Pipe and Pot.  
Thy Hushai next a true Friend ere a Man,  
So soon his Dearness with his Prince began,  
Was but Fourteen when David was Abroad,  
Less fit for a King's Friendship than a Rod.  
Which he deserved when he with Tears Replied,  
And in full house the Loyal Baby Cried,  
How could one German Journey teach his Youth,  
And add Experience to his native Truth;  
Abroad he learned to live upon his Prince,  
As e'vry Fool, Whore, Bully has done Since,  
To other Merit he has no pretence.  
Bazzillais Praise I could rehearse again,  
And make the second Labour of my Pen;  
Wise, Valiant, Loyal, Rich, of high Descent,  
Born all that Fortune for her Darlings Meant,  
Who nobly Scorned a private Happiness,  
When he beheld his Sovereign in Distress,  
To Arms he flew, but with bold Cato's Fate,  
Espoused the Cause that fortune seemed to Hate,  
Striving to save the Head that wore the Crown,  
He pulled the mighty Ruin on his own.  
But why extoll'st jerusalem's lewd Sagan,  
At Drink and Whores indeed a very Dragon;  
Not Magdalen possessed in all her Prime,  
With her Ten Devils could have Equalled Him.  
Why woul'st thou call thy Adriel a Muse,  
And David of his hasty rise Accuse,  
When we all know the same obliging Hand  
Gave him his George, and Churchil his Command,  
Iermin his Country house, & Bromwich his point Band.  
Or jotham flattered that vain sickle thing,  
Famous for Jests upon the Church and King;  
One while Pythagoras' harmless Food,  
For Thoughts and Politics must cool his Blood;  
And then again with Whores and Lusty Wines,  
Revels all Night, and thinks him mad that Dines;  
Quibles, Jokes, Puns, and Trifling Wit he has,  
And like the Sweed is very Rich in Brass;  
Against the Court, and David's-self he Roared,  
How ill he Governed, and how worse he 〈◊〉.  
Woven swear a Parrot had more Wit than Nelly,  
With her Parched Face wrinkled more than P—ths Belly;  
Yet now to both, like Popish Saints he Prays,  
Which shows he will not Burn in James' Days;  
In his Plain Band, and Honesty in show.  
He only aimed at Danby's overthrow,  
Which when obtained, this Patriot had his Ends,  
And farewell all his plain well meaning Friends;  
There was no Plot, no Popish Duke to Fear,  
With Danby all our Dangers Disappear;  
Danby thus setting to prevent dark Night,  
This paler Moon shows forth its clearer Light,  
Misguides our Councillors with her glimmering Ray,  
And all our Men of Business lose their Way,  
Our Parliament's dissolved, new Members Meet,  
An Oxford Journey must allay their Heat,  
But the true English Interest Appeared,  
The Silversmiths for their Diana Feared;  
Popery would pass on us in no Disguise,  
No Flowers could hide that Serpent from our Eyes;  
weare in Such hast dissolved that in the Street,  
New chosen with dissoving Members Meet,  
And then a Paper in good David's Name,  
Must the proceedings of the House Defame,  
Sheriffs, and Juries packed, Justices made,  
Knights of th' Address, and all false colours laid▪  
To Cheat their Party with a vain Conceit,  
The People, Parliaments both Fear and Hate,  
What Samson in a Dungeon Captive Blind,  
In spiteful rage, for cruel Foes Designed,  
The House of Commons must be thought to do  
Against themselves, and those that Trust them too.  
The Head shall sooner fear its own Right-Hand,  
Parents their Smiling Infants Death Command;  
The cheerful Birds sit silent in the Spring,  
Than Lords and Commons hurt the Realm or King,  
They may, thy Heroes, that small Faithful Band,  
Precious Counsellors, who dare singly Stand  
` 'Gainst the Collective Wisdom of the Land;  
David in Exile had more Friends than thou,  
Wilt to his Best, his Happiest Days allow;  
Why sounds thy Trumpet in the time of Peace,  
Art thou afraid our Differences should Cease;  
That thus thou talk'st of Rebels, Treasons, more  
Than any Irish Witness ever Swore?  
Soldiers of Fortune, thus to drive a Trade,  
Care not what Ruin, or what Slaughters Made.  
But hear me Prophecy, and Mark me well,  
ere Thrice the Rose renews its Fragrant Smell,  
People and King shall join like Man and Wife,  
And both Abhor the Engines of their Strife;  
No more shall they endure a hackney Pen,  
And thou Cashiered, shalt to the Stage again,  
Please none but silly Women, or worse Men;  
David shall find Duty an empty Word,  
(For different Faiths can never have one Sword;  
The Knot of Friendship is but loosely tied  
` 'twixt those that Heavenly Concerns divide;)  
He then shall with his Parliament agree,  
And Lives and Fortunes shall their Language be;  
Monmoth be Blest for all that he hath done,  
While thy vile Heroes to their Pardons run.  
FINIS.