Page:Gondibert, an heroick poem - William Davenant (1651).djvu/156

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GONDIBERT,
46.
Well by his precepts may we punish strife,
Whose pitie knew that Famine, Plague, and Time,
Are Enemies enough to humane life,
None need ore-charge Death's Quiver with a crime.

47.
To unfrequented Fields bear then your slain,
Where neither Dirge nor Requiem shall be giv'n;
To those who by usurp'd Revenge disdain
To take from Men, neglects they put on Heav'n.

48.
But now the People's passions run too far;
Their untaught love, artless extreams does wed;
Of times they like the past, and since they are
Opprest still by the living, love the Dead:

49.
And now resolve these Rivals shall not lose
The Rites of Sprinkling, Incense, Lights, and Song;
Then as the voice of all their Minds, they chuse
An Oratour, of rude, but ready Tongue:

50.
Who at the Temple Gate thus pleads aloud!
We know, though Priests are Pensioners of Heav'n,
Your Flock which yields best rent, is this dull Croud;
The learn'd examine why their Fleece is giv'n.

51.
Though by the Rich first shorn, to you they bear
A second tribute, and by zeal support
Temples which Kings for glory raise, and where
The Rich for fame, the Learn'd as Spies resort.

52.
Temples are yours, not God's lov'd Palaces,
Where Off'rings make not his, but your own Feasts;
Where you most wisely live, because at ease,
And entertain your Founders as your Guests:

With