In Nature's endless Treasury,
They chose his Eye to entertain
(His curious but not covetous Eye)
With painted Scenes, and Pageants of the Brain.
Some few exalted Spirits this latter Age has shown,
That labour'd to assert the Liberty
(From Guardians, who were now Usurpers grown)
Of this Old Minor still, captiv'd Philosophy;
But 'twas Rebellion call'd to fight
For such a long-oppressed Right.
Bacon at last, a mighty Man, arose,
Whom a wise King and Nature chose
Lord Chancellor of both their Laws,
And boldly undertook the injur'd Pupils Cause.
III.
Though 'twas but Air condens'd, and stalk'd about,
Like some old Giant's more Gigantic Ghost,
To terrify the learned Rout
With the plain Magic of true Reason's Light,
He chac'd out of our Sight,
Nor suffer'd Living Men to be misled
By the vain shadows of the Dead:
To Graves, from whence it rose, the conquer'd Phantome fled;
He broke that monstrous God which stood
In midst of th' Orchard, and the whole did claim,
Which with a useless Scythe of Wood,
And something else not worth a Name,
(Both vast for shew, yet neither fit
Or to Defend, or to beget;
Ridiculous and senseless Terrors!) made
Children and superstitious Men afraid.
The Orchards open now, and free;
Bacon has broke that Scare-crow Deity;
