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On the University Carrier, who ficknd
in the time of bis vacancy, being
forbid to go to London, by reason
of the Plague. H
ERE lies old Hobfon, Death hath broke his gitt, ,
And here, alas! hath laid him in the dirt,
Or else the ways being foul, twenty to one,
"He's here stuck in a Nough, and overthrown.
'Twas such a shifter, that if truth were known,
Death was half glad when he had got him down ;
For he had any time this ten years full,
Dodg’d with him, betwixt Cambridge and the Bull.
and surely Death could never have prevaild,
Had not his weekly course of carriage failid;
But lately finding him so long at home,
And thigking now his journeys end was come,
And that he had ta’ne up his latest Inn,
In the kind Office of a Chamberlin
his room where he must lodge that night,
Pulld of his Boots, and took away the lighe :
If any ask for him, it shall be said,
Hibson has supt, and's newly gone to bed.
Another on the same.
ERE Iteth one, who did most truly prove
That he could never die while hecould move,
So hung his deftiny, never to rot
While he might ftill jogg on and keep his trot,
Made of sphear-metal, never to decay
Until his revolution was at stay.
Time numbers motion, yet (without a crime
'Gainst old truth) motion number'd out his time :
And like an Engine mov'd with wheel and waight,
His principles being ceaft, he ended ftrait.
Reft, that gives all men life, gave him his death,
And too much breathing put him out of breath;
Nor were it contradiction to affirm
Too long vacation hasten'd on his term,
Meerly to drive the time away he fickn’d,
Fainted, and died, nor would with Ale be quickn'd;
Nay, quoth he, on his swooning bed out-stretch'd,
If I mayn't carry, sure I'll ne'er be fetch'd,
But vow, though the cross Doctors all stood hearers,
For one Carrier put down to make fix bearers.
Ease was his chief disease, and to judge right,
He dy'd for heaviness that his Cart went light,
His leisure told him that his time was come,
And lack of load, made his life burdensom,
That even to his last breath (there be that fay's),
As he were prest to death, he cry'd more waight ;
But had his doings lasted as they were,
He had been an immortal Carrier.
Obedient to the Moon he spent his date
In course reciprocal, and had his fate
Link'd to the mutual flowing of the Seas
Yet (Arange to think) his wain was his increase :
His Letters are deliver'd all and gon,
Only remains this Superscription,
On the new forcers of Conscience under
tbe Long PARLIAMENT.
Because you have thrown off your Prelate Lord
To feise the widow'd whore Pluralitie
From them whose fin ye envi’d, not abhorrd,
Dare ye for thiş adjure the Civil Sword
To force our Consciences that Chrift set free,
And ride us with a classic Hierarchy
Taught ye by meer A. S. and Rotherford?
Men whose Life, Learning, Faith and pure intent
Would have been held in high esteem with Paul
Must now be nam'd and printed Hereticks,
By hallow Edwards and Scotch what d'ye call :
But we do hope to find out all your tricks,
Your plots and packing worse than those of Trent,
· That so the Parliament May with their wholsom and preventive hears Clip your Phylacterics, though bauk your Ears,
And succour our juft Fe2js : when they shall read this clearly in your charger New Presbyter is but Old Priest writ Large.