40
LE LUTRIN
Canto 4.
Fie on these long Harangues! Let's live, and Drink!
And let censorious Whigs think what they think!
Thus Everard spoke! A heavy Abbey Lubber!
Whose Head was alwayes nuzling in the Cubber'd!
Ribout the Chorister then demurely rose,
And these Impertinencies stiffly oppose.
I never lik'd tedious Circumlocutions,
And shall advise to more concise conclusions!
Let Trombaut make but the great Organs roar,
They'l blow the Pulpit quickly out o'th' dore!
Needs must the Chanter own each man his friend,
Though diff'ring in the Means, they jumpt i'th' Eend!
The General cry went still, Ay! one and all!
Let the Proud Pulpit, Let the Pulpit fall!
Thus all Unanimous held the Conclusion,
But in the Premises was great Confusion:
Just so at Trent, when Concord in a Bag
Came Post from Rome, they hit it to a Tag!
The least he lik'd was he that last had spoke,
His Patience that a little did provoke:
I ne're Approv'd (quoth he) this moral work!
Who knows what fallacy may under't lurk?
Who can assure me but the Pulpits blast
May puff the Organs out of Doors at last?
We sometimes saw the sad experiment,
Away with that Dubious Expedient;
Come, Come! Lets make (said he) a Quick dispatch!
Whil'st we prate here, we fast in pain, and watch!
Down with the Idol! As I am a sinner,
My eager stomach crokes, and calls for Dinner!
There will we sit, Chat, Eat, Drink, Laugh, grow fat,
Exiling fretting Care, that kills a Cat!
He rose in hasty Zeal; The faithful Troop,
Arm'd with the Pregnant hopes of Sacred Soup,
And let censorious Whigs think what they think!
Thus Everard spoke! A heavy Abbey Lubber!
Whose Head was alwayes nuzling in the Cubber'd!
Ribout the Chorister then demurely rose,
And these Impertinencies stiffly oppose.
I never lik'd tedious Circumlocutions,
And shall advise to more concise conclusions!
Let Trombaut make but the great Organs roar,
They'l blow the Pulpit quickly out o'th' dore!
Needs must the Chanter own each man his friend,
Though diff'ring in the Means, they jumpt i'th' Eend!
The General cry went still, Ay! one and all!
Let the Proud Pulpit, Let the Pulpit fall!
Thus all Unanimous held the Conclusion,
But in the Premises was great Confusion:
Just so at Trent, when Concord in a Bag
Came Post from Rome, they hit it to a Tag!
The least he lik'd was he that last had spoke,
His Patience that a little did provoke:
I ne're Approv'd (quoth he) this moral work!
Who knows what fallacy may under't lurk?
Who can assure me but the Pulpits blast
May puff the Organs out of Doors at last?
We sometimes saw the sad experiment,
Away with that Dubious Expedient;
Come, Come! Lets make (said he) a Quick dispatch!
Whil'st we prate here, we fast in pain, and watch!
Down with the Idol! As I am a sinner,
My eager stomach crokes, and calls for Dinner!
There will we sit, Chat, Eat, Drink, Laugh, grow fat,
Exiling fretting Care, that kills a Cat!
He rose in hasty Zeal; The faithful Troop,
Arm'd with the Pregnant hopes of Sacred Soup,
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