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/135

The Watchful Prelate saw his close Retreat,
And strait March'd up, his Conquest to Compleat.
Then Turning to the Right, he wheel'd around,
And Bless'd the frightn'd Champion to the Ground.
Thrice he Erects his Rebel Head in Vain,
The lengthen'd Finger forc'd him down again.
Oblig'd to Kneel, because the Mob's so near;
And what he owes to Rev'rence Pays to Fear.

The Prelate to the Temple Makes his Way
To taste the Fruits of this Victorious Day.

The Chanter and the Canons too Return,
And Inly their defeated Project Mourn.
Vanquish'd by Pious Fraud, in Crouds they Prest
Thro' the throng'd Doors, at once both Maul'd and Blest.

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