The Hind and the Panther.
109
The patience of the Hind did almost fail,
For well she mark'd the malice of the tale:
Which Ribbald art their church to Luther owes,
In malice it began, by malice grows,
He sow'd the Serpent's teeth, an iron-harvest rose.
But most in Martyn's character and fate,
She saw her slander'd sons, the Panther's hate,
The people's rage, the persecuting state:
Then said, I take th' advice in friendly part,
You clear your conscience, or at least your heart:
Perhaps you fail'd in your fore-seeing skill,
For Swallows are unlucky birds to kill:
As for my sons, the family is bless'd,
Whose ev'ry child is equal to the rest:
No church reform'd can boast a blameless line;
Such Martyns build in yours, and more than mine:
Or else an old fanatick Authour lyes
Who summ'd their Scandals up by Centuries.
For well she mark'd the malice of the tale:
Which Ribbald art their church to Luther owes,
In malice it began, by malice grows,
He sow'd the Serpent's teeth, an iron-harvest rose.
But most in Martyn's character and fate,
She saw her slander'd sons, the Panther's hate,
The people's rage, the persecuting state:
Then said, I take th' advice in friendly part,
You clear your conscience, or at least your heart:
Perhaps you fail'd in your fore-seeing skill,
For Swallows are unlucky birds to kill:
As for my sons, the family is bless'd,
Whose ev'ry child is equal to the rest:
No church reform'd can boast a blameless line;
Such Martyns build in yours, and more than mine:
Or else an old fanatick Authour lyes
Who summ'd their Scandals up by Centuries.
But
