The Converts.
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I Did intend in Rhimes Heroick
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To write of Converts Apostolick,
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Describe their persons and their shames,
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And leave the World to guess their Names:
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But soon I thought the scoundrel Theme
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Was for Heroick Song too mean;
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Their Characters we'll then rehearse
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In Burlesque, or in Dogrel Verse;
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Of Earls, of Lords, of Knights I'll sing,
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That chang'd their Faith to please their King.
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The first an Antiquated Lord,
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A walking Mummy in a word,
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Moves cloath'd in Plaisters Aromatick,
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And Flannel, by the help of a Stick,
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And like a grave and noble Peer,
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Outlives his Sense by Sixty year;
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And what an honest Man would anger,
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Outlives the Fort he built at Tanger,
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By Pox, and Whores long since undone,
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Yet loves it still, and fumbles on:
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Why he's a Favourite few can guess,
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Some say it's for his Ugliness;
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For often Monsters (being rare)
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Are valued equal to the Fair:
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For in his Mistrisses, kind James
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Loves Ugliness in its extreams;
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But others say 'tis plainly seen,
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'Tis for the Choice he made o'th' Queen;
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When he the King and Nation blest
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With Off-spring of the House of Est;
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A Dame whose Affability
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Equals her Generosity:
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Oh! Well match'd Pair, who frugally are bent
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To live without the aids of Parliament.
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All this and more the Peer perform'd,
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Then to compleat his Vertues, turn'd;
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But 'twas not Conscience, or Devotion,
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The hopes of Riches or Promotion
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That made his Lordship first to vary,
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But 'twas to please his Daughter Mary;
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And she to make retaliation,
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Is full as lewd in her Vocation.
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The next a Caravannish Thief,
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A lazy Mass of damn'd Rump Beef;
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Prodigious Guts, no Brains at all,
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But very Rhynocerical,
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Was Married ere the Cub was lickt,
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And now not worthy to be kickt,
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By Jockeys bubbled, forc'd to fly,
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To save his Coat, to Italy.
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Where Haynes and he, that Virtuous Youth,
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Equal in Honour, Sense, and Truth;
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By Reason and pure Conscience urged,
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Past Sins by Abjuration Purged:
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But 'tis believed both Rogue and Peer,
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More worldly Motives had to veer;
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The Scoundrel Plebeians swerving
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Was to secure himself from starving;
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And that which made the Peer a Starter,
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Was hope of a long wish'd for Garter.
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Next comes a Peer who sits at Helm,
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And long has steer'd the giddy Realm
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With Taylors motion, mein, and grace,
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But a right Statesman in Grimace;
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The Sneer, the Cringe, and then by turns,
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The dully grave, the Frowns and Scorns,
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Promises all, but nought performs:
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But howe'er great he's in Promotion,
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He's very humble in Devotion;
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With Taper light, and Feet all bare,
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He to the Temple did repair,
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And knocking softly at the Portal,
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Cry'd, Pity (Fathers) a poor Mortal,
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And for a Sinner make some room,
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A Prodigal returned home.
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Some say that in that very hour,
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Convert Mall Megs arriv'd at door;
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So both with Penitent Grimace,
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Statesman and Bawd with humble pace
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Entered, and were received to grace.
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The next a Knight of high Command
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'Twixt London-Bridge and Dover-Sand;
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A Man of strict and holy Life,
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Taking example from his Wife;
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He to a Nunnery sent her packing,
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Lest they should take each other napping.
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Some say L'Estrange did him beget,
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But that he wants his Chin and Wit;
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Good natur'd, as you may observe,
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Letting his Titular Father starve;
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A Man of Sense and Parts we know it,
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But dares as well be damn'd as show it;
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Brib'd by himself, his trusty Servant
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At Kings-Bench-Bar appear'd most fervent
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Against his Honor for the Test,
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To him 'twas Gain, to all Mankind a Jest.
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Blue-Bonnet Lords a numerous store,
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Whose best Example is they're Poor;
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Meerly drawn in in hopes of Gains,
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And reap the Scandal for their pains;
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Half starv'd at Court with expectation,
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Forc'd to return to their Scotch Station,
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Despis'd and scorn'd by every Nation.
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A paltry Knight not worth a mention,
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Renounc'd his Faith for piteous Pension;
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After upon True Protestant Whore,
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H' had spent a large Estate before.
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A thick short Collonel next does come,
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With stradling Legs and massy Bum:
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With many more of shameful Note,
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Whose Honour ne'er was worth a Groat.
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If these be Pillars of the Church,
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'Tis fear'd they'll leave her in the lurch;
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If abler Men do not support her Weight,
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All quickly will return to Fourty Eight.
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FINIS.
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