Page:Boileau's Lutrin - a mock-heroic poem. In six canto's. Render'd into English verse. To which is prefix'd some account of Boileau's writings, and this translation. (IA boileauslutrinmo00boil).pdf/103

'Till hir'd by some vile Quack, The Furniture
Do's All the happy lightsome Space Obscure;
And What th' Unlucky Owner meant to Grace,
Converted to an Indigested Mass.
Yes, Great a-Kempis he cou'd Construe too,
And all his knotty Passages Undo.
Whence cou'd this Stroke, said He, but from the Womb,
Some Younger Sprig of Old Socinus, Come?
It must be so; We're in the Prelate's Snare;
These Eyes Saw Deist T——— visit there;
Satan Endeavours, by that subtle Fiend,
The Prelate to his Purposes to Bend.
Sirs, he most certainly has somewhere heard
That this Litigious Desk St. Louis rear'd;
Thus, grown Polemical, He'll-proudly think
To Drown us All with Deluges of Ink;

Vast