Stephen Colledge's GHOST TO THE FANATICAL CABAL.  

FRom the unfathomed Bowels of those cells,  
Where death and everlasting horror dwells,  
I come with timely notice to prevent  
A restless and eternal discontent,  
Lest you (my once beloved) too late repent.  
What e'er the great designing Grandees said,  
My willing soul officiously obeyed,  
I was an active Puppet and was proud,  
To squeak out Treason to the listening Croild,  
Whilst S— behind the Curtain fate,  
And taught my busy babbling tongue to prate,  
But now my Quondam Tutor give that o'er,  
And trust your vain projecting head no more;  
Though with deliberation you assayl,  
Think how the Silver slime betrays the Snail.  
Tell Dr. Titus and without offence  
To his imaginary Reverence.  
'T were better that the truth had been exposed  
As naked as himself and as disclosed:  
It was imprudence in him and a freik  
To stretch the Plot so far to make it break.  
Poor Implement to some designing head,  
And then by fairer promises betrayed.  
Let M— kerb ambition lest it grow,  
And only swell him High to hurl him low,  
The Eagles lawful brood can only gaze  
Like unconcerned Spectators at the Rays,  
Too weak his eyes, his countenance too down  
To look against the Lustre of a Crown.  
Now for the scribbling Tribe, my last advice,  
Is seasonable Caution to be nice,  
Too boldly in their function they transgress,  
Too fatally Licentious is the Press.  
The giddy and believing Rout they please  
With Mercuryes and Impartiallities,  
Whilst into the unpleasant Dose is thrown  
Protestancy to make the Cup go down;  
I filled a Bumper to the Rising Sun,  
And drank Sodition till I was undone.  
But now my conscious soul repines in vain,  
Repentance only aggravates the pain,  
The fatal Doom can never be retrieved,  
Murder may sooner hope to be reprieved.  
How durst these parched Lips pronounce such things  
Against the best & worthiest of Kings?  
I must that sacralegious Arm condemn,  
Dares spoil his temples of the Diadem,  
That Ornament was Heavens sole gift, & why  
Did we Supreme Authority deny?  
With what ill Genius were we possessed  
To force his Royal Brother from his breast  
No sooner we Petitioned, but he'd give;  
Till we encroached upon Prerogative,  
Then when he saw what Mysteries were meant,  
He, tender of his honour, did resent;  
And pulled our Battle Architecture down,  
Erected in defiance to his Crown.  
But hold, approaching day peeps through the Sky,  
And whispers to the guilty Ghosts to fly.  
My date of time's expired, and I must go,  
The Cock with his third Summons tells me so,  
Now must I stalk and like a Goblin rove  
Through wayless paths and melancholy Groves.  
Down to the deep Abyss where discord reigns,  
And Treasons punished with eternal pains.  
There, no kind Ignoramus can restore  
My drooping Vitals and allay the sore,  
Instead of Acclamations and applause  
Which my attempting rashness used to causs  
Nought but the Yells of furies now I hear,  
And crawlling Snakes shall hourly hiss despair.  
This, this will be your Doom if you proceed,  
Your Politics will fail you when you need,  
Divine severity must be your fate  
With a Relentless Never for the Date.   
FINIS.   

Printed for A, Tagner, 168●.