For if it be not strange, That religion should change, As often as climates and fashions; Then sure there's no harm, That one should conform. To serve their own private occasions.
Another new dance, Which of late they advance, Is to cry up the birth of Pretender, And those that dare own The queen heir to the crown, Are traitors, not fit to defend her.
The subject's most loyal That hates the blood royal, And they for employments have merit, Who swear queen and steeple Were made by the people, And neither have right to inherit.
The monarchy's fixt, By making on't mixt, And by non-resistance o'erthrown; And preaching obedience Destroys our allegiance, And thus the Whigs prop up the throne.
That viceroy [2] is best, That would take off the test, And made a sham speech to attempt it; But being true blue, When he found 'twould not do, Swore, damn him, if ever he meant it.
'Tis no news that Tom Double The nation should bubble, Nor is't any wonder or riddle, That a parliament rump Should play hop, step, and jump, And dance any jig to his fiddle.
But now, sir, they tell, How Sacheverell, By bringing old doctrines in fashion, Hath, like a damn'd rogue, Brought religion in vogue, And so open'd the eyes of the nation.
Then let's pray without spleen, May God bless the queen, And her fellow-monarchs the people; May they prosper and thrive, Whilst I am alive, And so may the church with the steeple.
[Footnote 1: Alluding to the year 1641, when the great rebellion broke out. _Scott_.]
Atlas, we read in ancient song, Was so exceeding tall and strong, He bore the skies upon his back, Just as the pedler does his pack; But, as the pedler overpress'd Unloads upon a stall to rest, Or, when he can no longer stand Desires a friend to lend a hand; So Atlas, lest the ponderous spheres Should sink, and fall about his ears, Got Hercules to bear the pile, That he might sit and rest awhile. Yet Hercules was not so strong, Nor could have borne it half so long. Great statesmen are in this condition; And Atlas is a politician, A premier minister of state; Alcides one of second rate. Suppose then Atlas ne'er so wise; Yet, when the weight of kingdoms lies Too long upon his single shoulders, Sink down he must, or find upholders.