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<DATE>2009-01-03</DATE>
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<NAME>Mona Logarbo</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
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<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B081164.pdcc.</ITEM>
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<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B05074">
<STC T="W">r22c</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99884931</BIBNO>
<VID>182698</VID>
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<TEXT LANG="eng">
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB REF="1" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 4 -->
<HEAD>An An&s;wer For Mr. <HI>Calamie</HI> to a POEM Congratulating his impri&s;onment in NEVV-GATE. Intituled by <HI>Robert Wilde.</HI> D.D. Author of the late <HI>Iter Boreale.</HI></HEAD>
<BYLINE>By <HI>J. R.</HI> Author of the late SMALL-BEER POEM.</BYLINE>
<EPIGRAPH>
<Q>Sic. partis componere Magna.</Q>
</EPIGRAPH>
<LG>
<L>THE place your <HI>Wor&s;hip,</HI> doth congratulate,</L>
<L>Now void, doth for a new <HI>Incumbent</HI> wait.</L>
<L>I know none fitter, then your &s;elf, to take it:</L>
<L>So pure a wit, a gainfull place, will make it.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Let me per&s;wade you, Begg the Pre&s;entation;</L>
<L>And I &s;hall tell you, for your con&s;olation,</L>
<L>What your own heart could wi&s;h, here you &s;hall finde</L>
<L><HI>A pack of Auditors,</HI> will fit your mind:</L>
<L><HI>Conformi&s;ts</HI> all, of the right &s;tamp <HI>Cavalliers,</HI></L>
<L>Who&s;e prayers are oathes, and who&s;e Religion Jeers.</L>
<L>Abu&s;e the <HI>Saints</HI> &s;ufficiently, and then,</L>
<L>You'l hear them all devoutly &s;wear Amen.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>You need not &s;tudy much, nor break your brains:</L>
<L>There that is valued be&s;t, that co&s;ts lea&s;t pains:</L>
<L><HI>Stol'n Ware,</HI> or &s;o; they love with all their heart,</L>
<L>If't be but done, as you can do't, with art.</L>
<L>Quote <HI>Guznian,</HI> and the Spani&s;h <HI>Lazarill:</HI></L>
<L>Among the re&s;t, let the&s;e be chiefe&s;t &s;till:</L>
<L><HI>Een-John&s;on's</HI> playes with other moddern wits.</L>
<L><HI>And Aulicus;</HI> The&s;e you may quote by fits:</L>
<L>And read &s;ometimes, for it will much avail yee,</L>
<L>A piece, out of your <HI>Iter Boreale.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Be not a&s;ham'd, of this advice; I tell you;</L>
<L>Your Betters have done &s;o, that far excel you.</L>
<L>The <HI>Saints</HI> did once, as you know well enough,</L>
<L>Fill up their Sermons with <HI>Diurnall</HI> &s;tuffe.</L>
<L>'Twas then well lik't. But oh the change of <HI>Fates!</HI></L>
<L>Should we but do &s;o now, they'd break our pates.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L><HI>St. Peter's Chair,</HI> you need not envy mee:</L>
<L>Give me <HI>Sir John</HI>'s: this other your's &s;hall be.</L>
<L><HI>St. Peter</HI>'s <HI>Chair,</HI> was of dull Iron oare:</L>
<L>Yet he wrought miracle's: this will work more!</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>I'le tell you &s;oftly, between you and I,</L>
<L>The <HI>godly</HI> have, a &s;ecret <HI>Deitie:</HI></L>
<L>Though for to wrong him, they are &s;omewhat &s;hy;</L>
<L>Becau&s;e, the <HI>weak</HI> will call't <HI>Idolatry.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Your long <HI>Indictment,</HI> is not worth a &s;traw:</L>
<L>'Tis draw 'gain&s;t one, you &s;ay is <HI>dead in Law;</HI></L>
<L>And who compar'd with you, may &s;eem at mo&s;t,</L>
<L>To be &s;ome <HI>Skelleton,</HI> or &s;tarv'ling <HI>Gho&s;t.</HI></L>
<L>But &s;ee the rage of tho&s;e, <HI>Poetique Knaves!</HI></L>
<L>They will not let us re&s;t, within our graves!</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Then for the matter, of your accu&s;ation,</L>
<L>'Tis &s;o ab&s;urd; it needs no confutation.</L>
<L>It is for <HI>&s;tealing hearts;</HI> by this is mean't,</L>
<L>A Robbing of the party by con&s;ent.</L>
<L>If this be <HI>Felony,</HI> Good-&s;ir, take heed!</L>
<L>For this will prove a dangerous <HI>theft</HI> indeed,</L>
<L>When you take <HI>tithes,</HI> and of men's monies fob them;</L>
<L>(Though by con&s;ent) They may cry out, you rob them.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>I like your, <HI>Allegory,</HI> of <HI>Bi&s;hop Gout;</HI></L>
<L>And &s;o do others too, I make no doubt.</L>
<L>Some <HI>Pre&s;byterian Bi&s;hop</HI> 'tis I Gue&s;&s;e;</L>
<L>For this is painfull, in his <HI>Dioce&s;&s;e.</HI></L>
<L>What! though he make you grieve; 'tis for your good:</L>
<L>His <HI>vi&s;itations,</HI> &s;tir your <HI>idle blood.</HI></L>
<L>God &s;ends &s;uch <HI>vi&s;iters,</HI> for <HI>Lazy droans:</HI></L>
<L>Makes them unwilling, preach with &s;obbs, and groanes.</L>
<L>Hee'l teach you too, without the <HI>Common-Prayer,</HI></L>
<L>To cry, <HI>Ah! Lord! thy rotten Servant &s;pare!</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Would you be free, from <HI>Bi&s;hop Gouts</HI> vexation?</L>
<L>I'le teach you how by the be&s;t ob&s;ervation.</L>
<L>Preach much but &s;tudy little; for 'tis ea&s;e,</L>
<L>And idle &s;itting, that breed's this di&s;ea&s;e.</L>
<L><HI>Leave drinking</HI> &s;ack; get Caro&s;&s;es for your lungs;</L>
<L>And this will help you, to a thou&s;and tongues.</L>
<L><HI>Preach, Preach,</HI> with all the noi&s;e, and vehemence you can!</L>
<L>Till you become &s;ome megger <HI>Puritan:</HI></L>
<L>Subdue your pamp'red fle&s;h, with thinner diet;</L>
<L>And then, I'le promi&s;e you, you &s;hall be quiet,</L>
<L>From <HI>Bi&s;hop Gout,</HI> and from <HI>Dean Drop&s;y</HI> too;</L>
<L>They'l &s;hun you then, as <HI>Lawyers,</HI> poor folkes do.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But to your prai&s;e, i'le &s;peak it, I prote&s;t!</L>
<L>Y'have prov'd <HI>Epi&s;copacy,</HI> 'bove all, the be&s;t;</L>
<L>That they have <HI>Jus-Divinum,</HI> to their places;</L>
<L>You here have clearly prov'd it to their faces:</L>
<L>Now my <HI>Lord Gout,</HI> may with good grace and &s;en&s;e,</L>
<L>Writ <HI>Bi&s;hop,</HI> by <HI>Divine providence.</HI></L>
<L>For 'twas not man, but God gave him <HI>Commi&s;&s;ion;</HI></L>
<L>And fixt in your precinct, his <HI>jurisdiction.</HI></L>
<L>And may his Government prove &s;omewhat milde!</L>
<L>Or el&s;e I fear 'twill make the Doctor <HI>Wilde.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But more then this; you have prov'd learnedly;</L>
<L>Far above others, their <HI>Antiquity:</HI></L>
<L>As old as Father <HI>Noah,</HI> I Divine:</L>
<L>Who planted fir&s;t, the <HI>Gont-producing</HI> Vine.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Thus you have &s;topt, the mouthes of <HI>peevi&s;h &s;ects;</HI></L>
<L>And cleer'd the que&s;tion, in de&s;pite of <HI>Smects.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Much joy have you, with your <HI>Dioce&s;an!</HI></L>
<L>May he nere meet, with any <HI>Puritan.</HI></L>
<L>Or Lawle&s;s <HI>Schi&s;matiques!</HI> but make them bow,</L>
<L>To his commands! or plague them! you know how.</L>
<L>May he find none, where ere he <HI>Domineers;</HI></L>
<L>But good <HI>conformi&s;ts</HI> hone&s;t <HI>Cavalliers!</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But Sir! there's yet one &s;cruple left behind;</L>
<L>Which not a litle, doth perplex my mind.</L>
<L>The narrow <HI>Dioce&s;&s;e,</HI> you do al ot,</L>
<L>Unto your <HI>Bi&s;hop</HI> doth not any jot.</L>
<L>Advance your cau&s;e; but for all this you may,</L>
<L>Be counted one, of th' <HI>Independ ent way.</HI></L>
<L>No further then your &s;elf, your <HI>Bi&s;hop reaches:</HI></L>
<L>This every <HI>Quaker</HI> and <HI>Phanatick</HI> teaches.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>'Tis Large enough, (you'l &s;ay) for every man,</L>
<L><HI>A little world!</HI> his Soul <HI>Dioce&s;an!</HI></L>
<L>Sir! this is <HI>Popery;</HI> I'le make it plain!</L>
<L>An Univer&s;all <HI>Bi&s;hop,</HI> you ordain!</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But now let's &s;ee, where all this <HI>&s;ickne&s;s</HI> lies!</L>
<L>You, if you can, A <HI>remedy</HI> devi&s;e</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>When <HI>States</HI> &s;hall breed, more learned, active Spirits,</L>
<L>Then they can keep or an&s;wer to their merits;</L>
<L>You mu&s;t not think, they'l <HI>&s;tarve</HI> or <HI>beggar</HI> be,</L>
<L>If by their Rhet'rick, they can earn a Fee.</L>
<L>Whil'&s;t <HI>Ideots, Women, Hawkes and Hounds</HI> devour:</L>
<L>The fatte&s;t <HI>tithes,</HI> once the poor <HI>Churches Dower.</HI></L>
<L>Whil'&s;t the <HI>impropriate Lord,</HI> will not con&s;ent,</L>
<L>To yeild his needy vicar, <HI>Ten per cent;</HI></L>
<L>You mu&s;t not think it &s;trange, if <HI>di&s;contents,</HI></L>
<L>Work in the Church and State &s;uch <HI>fatall rents;</HI></L>
<L>And that compell'd men &s;eek <HI>Benevolence,</HI></L>
<L>From better <HI>Chri&s;tians</HI> hone&s;t <HI>Citizens.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Let this be Remedied, all <HI>Schi&s;mes</HI> will fail,</L>
<L>And none will then pre&s;ume to write or raile.</L>
<L>Who &s;o doth otherwi&s;e, the <HI>Symptomes</HI> cures;</L>
<L>But not the <HI>Malady:</HI> that &s;till endures.</L>
<L>We Love the <HI>King,</HI> and would his <HI>love</HI> de&s;erve,</L>
<L>If <HI>Preaching</HI> will not; then our <HI>pray'rs</HI> mu&s;t &s;erve!</L>
<L>Make you the empty air, wit Clamours ring.</L>
<L>Our Prayers &s;hall reach to heaven! <HI>God Save the King!</HI></L>
</LG>
<TRAILER>FINIS.</TRAILER>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P><HI>London</HI> Printed in the Year 1663.</P>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
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