Selected Poems Part 4

THE

FOREIGNERS.

A

POEM.

PART I.

_LONDON_,

Printed for _A. Baldwin_ in _Warwicklane_,

MDCC.

The Foreigners.

Long time had _Israel_ been disus'd from Rest, Long had they been by Tyrants sore opprest; Kings of all sorts they ignorantly crav'd, And grew more stupid as they were enslav'd; Yet want of Grace they impiously disown'd, And still like Slaves beneath the Burden groan'd: With languid Eyes their Race of Kings they view, The Bad too many, and the Good too few; Some rob'd their Houses, and destroy'd their Lives, Ravish'd their Daughters, and debauch'd their Wives; Prophan'd the Altars with polluted Loves, And wors.h.i.+p'd Idols in the Woods and Groves.

To Foreign Nations next they have recourse; Striving to mend, they made their State much worse.

They first from _Hebron_ all their Plagues did bring, Cramm'd in the Single Person of a King; From whose base Loins ten thousand Evils flow, Which by Succession they must undergo.

Yet sense of Native Freedom still remains, They fret and grumble underneath their Chains; Incens'd, enrag'd, their Pa.s.sion do's arise, Till at his Palace-Gate their Monarch dies.

This Glorious Feat was by the Fathers done, Whose Children next depos'd his Tyrant Son, Made him, like _Cain_, a murd'rous Wanderer, Both of his Crimes, and of his Fortunes share.

But still resolv'd to split on Foreign Shelves, Rather than venture once to trust Themselves, To Foreign Courts and Councils do resort, To find a King their Freedoms to support: Of one for mighty Actions fam'd they're told, Profoundly wise, and desperately bold, Skilful in War, Successful still in Fight, Had vanquish'd Hosts, and Armies put to flight; And when the Storms of War and Battels cease, Knew well to steer the s.h.i.+p of State in Peace.

Him they approve, approaching to their sight; Lov'd by the G.o.ds, of Mankind the Delight.

The numerous Tribes resort to see him land, Cover the Beach, and blacken all the Strand; With loud Huzza's they welcome him on sh.o.r.e, And for their Blessing do the G.o.ds implore.

The Sanhedrim conven'd, at length debate The sad Condition of their drooping State, And Sinking Church, just ready now to drown; And with one Shout they do the Hero crown.

Ah Happy _Israel_! had there never come Into his Councils crafty Knaves at home, In combination with a Foreign Brood, Sworn Foes to _Israel_'s Rights and _Israel_'s Good; Who impiously foment Intestine Jars, Exhaust our Treasure, and prolong our Wars; Make _Israel_'s People to themselves a prey, Mislead their King, and steal his Heart away: United Intrests thus they do divide, The State declines by Avarice and Pride; Like Beasts of Prey they ravage all the Land, Acquire Preferments, and usurp Command: The Foreign Inmates the Housekeepers spoil, And drain the Moisture of our fruitful Soil.

If to our Monarch there are Honours due, Yet what with _Gibeonites_ have we to do?

When Foreign States employ 'em for their Food, To draw their Water, and to hew their Wood.

What Mushroom Honours dos our Soil afford!

One day a Begger, and the next a Lord.

What dastard Souls do _Jewish_ n.o.bles wear!

The Commons such Affronts would never bear.

Let no Historian the sad Stories tell Of thy base Sons, Oh servile _Israel_!

But thou, my Muse, more generous and brave, Shalt their black Crimes from dark oblivion save; To future Ages shalt their Sins disclose, And brand with Infamy thy Nation's Foes.

A Country lies, due East from _Judah_'s Sh.o.a.r, Where stormy Winds and noisy Billows roar; A Land much differing from all other Soils, Forc'd from the Sea, and b.u.t.tress'd up with Piles.

No marble Quarrys bind the spungy Ground, But Loads of Sand and c.o.c.kle-sh.e.l.ls are found: Its Natives void of Honesty and Grace, A Boorish, rude, and an inhumane Race; From Nature's Excrement their Life is drawn, Are born in Bogs, and nourish'd up from Sp.a.w.n.

Their hard-smoak'd Beef is their continual Meat, Which they with Rusk, their luscious Manna, eat; Such Food with their chill stomachs best agrees, They sing _Hosannah_ to a Mare's-milk Cheese.

To supplicate no G.o.d, their Lips will move, Who speaks in Thunder like Almighty _Jove_, But watry Deities they do invoke, Who from the Marshes most Divinely croak.

Their Land, as if asham'd their Crimes to see, Dives down beneath the surface of the Sea.

_Neptune_, the G.o.d who do's the Seas command, Ne'er stands on Tip-toe to descry their Land; But seated on a Billow of the Sea, With Ease their humble Marshes do's survey.

These are the Vermin do our State molest; Eclipse our Glory, and disturb our Rest.

_BENTIR_ in the Inglorious Roll the first, _Bentir_ to this and future Ages curst, Of mean Descent, yet insolently proud, Shun'd by the Great, and hated by the Crowd; Who neither Blood nor Parentage can boast, And what he got the _Jewish_ Nation lost: By lavish Grants whole Provinces he gains, Made forfeit by the _Jewish_ Peoples Pains; Till angry Sanhedrims such Grants resume, And from the Peac.o.c.k take each borrow'd Plume.

Why should the _Gibeonites_ our Land engross, And aggrandize their Fortunes with our loss?

Let them in foreign States proudly command, They have no Portion in the Promis'd Land, Which immemorially has been decreed To be the Birth-right of the _Jewish_ Seed.

How ill do's _Bentir_ in the Head appear } Of Warriours, who do _Jewish_ Ensigns bear? } By such we're grown e'en Scandalous in War. } Our Fathers Trophies wore, and oft could tell How by their Swords the mighty Thousands fell; What mighty Deeds our Grandfathers had done, What Battels fought, what Wreaths of Honour won: Thro the extended Orb they purchas'd Fame, The Nations trembling at their Awful Name: Such wondrous Heroes our Fore-fathers were, When we, base Souls! but Pigmies are in War: By Foreign Chieftains we improve in Skill; We learn how to intrench, not how to kill: For all our Charge are good Proficients made In using both the Pickax and the Spade.

But in what Field have we a Conquest wrought?

In Ten Years War what Battel have we fought?

If we a Foreign Slave may use in War, Yet why in Council should that Slave appear?

If we with _Jewish_ Treasure make him great, Must it be done to undermine the State?

Where are the Antient Sages of Renown? } No _Magi_ left, fit to advise the Crown? } Must we by Foreign Councils be undone? } Unhappy _Israel_, who such Measures takes, And seeks for Statesmen in the Bogs and Lakes; Who speak the Language of most abject Slaves, Under the Conduct of our _Jewish_ Knaves.

Our _Hebrew_'s murder'd in their hoa.r.s.er Throats; How ill their Tongues agree with _Jewish Notes_!

Their untun'd Prattle do's our Sense confound, Which in our Princely Palaces do's sound; The self-same Language the old Serpent spoke, When misbelieving _Eve_ the Apple took: Of our first Mother why are we asham'd, When by the self-same Rhetorick we are d.a.m.n'd?

But _Bentir_, not Content with such Command, To canton out the _Jewish_ Nation's Land; He do's extend to Other Coasts his Pride, And other Kingdoms into Parts divide: Unhappy _Hiram_! dismal is thy Song; Tho born to Empire, thou art ever young!

Ever in Nonage, canst no Right transfer: But who made _Bentir_ thy Executor?

What mighty Power do's _Israel_'s Land afford? } What Power has made the famous _Bentir_ Lord? } The Peoples Voice, and _Sanhedrim_'s Accord. } Are not the Rights of People still the same?

Did they e'er differ in or Place or Name?

Have not Mankind on equal Terms still stood, Without Distinction, since the mighty Flood?

And have not _Hiram_'s Subjects a free Choice To chuse a King by their united Voice?

If _Israel_'s People cou'd a Monarch chuse, A living King at the same time refuse; That _Hiram_'s People, shall it e'er be said, Have not the Right of Choice when he is dead?

When no Successor to the Crown's in sight, The Crown is certainly the Peoples Right.

If Kings are made the People to enthral, We had much better have no King at all: But Kings, appointed for the Common Good, Always as Guardians to their People stood.

And Heaven allows the People sure a Power To chuse such Kings as shall not them devour: They know full well what best will serve themselves, How to avoid the dang'rous Rocks and Shelves.

Unthinking _Israel_! Ah henceforth beware How you entrust this faithless Wanderer!

He who another Kingdom can divide, } May set your Const.i.tution soon aside, } And o'er your Liberties in Triumph ride. } Support your Rightful Monarch and his Crown, But pull this proud, this croaking Mortal down.

Proceed, my Muse; the Story next relate Of _Keppech_ the Imperious Chit of State, Mounted to Grandeur by the usual Course Of Whoring, Pimping, or a Crime that's worse; Of Foreign Birth, and undescended too, Yet he, like _Bentir_, mighty Feats can do.

He robs our Treasure, to augment his State, And _Jewish_ n.o.bles on his Fortunes wait: Our ravish'd Honours on his Shoulder wears, And t.i.tles from our Antient Rolls he tears.

Was e'er a prudent People thus befool'd, By upstart Foreigners thus basely gull'd?

Ye _Jewish_ n.o.bles, boast no more your Race, Or sacred Badges did your Fathers grace!

In vain is Blood, or Parentages, when Ribbons and Garters can enn.o.ble Men.

To Chivalry you need have no recourse, The gawdy Trappings make the a.s.s a Horse.

No more, no more your Antient Honours own, By slavish _Gibeonites_ you are outdone: Or else your Antient Courage rea.s.sume, And to a.s.sert your Honours once presume; From off their Heads your ravish'd Lawrels tear, And let them know what _Jewish_ n.o.bles are.

_THE END._