Display'd.
3
How Civil Discord and Intestine Rage
Have boil'd in ev'ry Nation, ev'ry Age.
They sung Divided Albion's hapless State,
Her Clashing Senate's Feuds, her lab'ring Church's Fate:
And, as her coming Ruin they exprest,
A sullen Rapture swell'd in ev'ry Breast.
For such the Bent of their Distorted Will,
Only to know Delight in Thoughts of Ill.
But on a sudden, Lo! descending flew,
A Meagre Ghost, which soon the Fury knew,
Cethego newly Dead, her Darling Pride,
Whose Firm Unwav'ring Faith she long had try'd,
Long in her Secret Councels had retain'd,
By which her Empire o'er our Isle she gain'd.
B 2
No
