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By my High Prieſt the Holy Oyl’s apply’d,
By me Kings Reign, are Crown’d, and Sanctifi’d;
I am on Earth their Safety, and to Heav’n their Guide.
By me the Factious Falſhoods are ſuppreſt,
Scatter’d by reſtleſs Rebels, to moleſt
The happy quiet of a Peaceful Reign,
Which Traitors Envy, and blind Fools Diſdain.
Duty to Kings, I to the Public teach,
To Loyalty Excite, Perſwade, Beſeech,
That all things to the Throne be eaſie made,
And him thereon be Rev’renc’d, and Obey’d.
What are all theſe, but Marks of Loyaltie,
Religious Graces, manifeſt in me,
Virtues, I find, too bright for thy dull Eyes to ſee.
But pray your Reaſons to the World impart,
Why now you from your old Opinion ſtart.
In happy days, when Charles the Scepter ſwai’d,
When baſe Deſigns, by you know who, were lai’d,
Then all your Awkward, Canting Brood profeſt
’Twas Damnable, the Bread of Life to Taſt
Within my Sacred Temple-Walls, but now,
What then you held ſo Dang’rous, you Allow.
If Once ’twas an Offence ſo great, we know,
(As you maintain’d, full Twenty Years ago)
’Tis Now the ſame, and Ever will be ſo.
Why do the Grandees of your Leering Tribe,
(Who from rank Dugs their Prejudice imbibe)
