Classic Poem

Too faithful Pastor! still exert thy Skill,
Nor let the thankless World suspend thy Will.
In Teaching saving Knowledge, you delight,
And your blest Life explains the Truths you write.
The great L UCARIS , nobly you defend,
Right his much injur'd Fame, and tragick End.
Expose Rome's crafty Juggling, to their Shame.
And piously his Martyrdom proclaim.
He, rais'd by you, triumphant does revive,
And in your Works shall Time it self survive.
Such is your Zeal, your charitable Care,
The much wrong'd Dead you from Aspersion clear,
And those that are alive for Death prepare.
Which Future State, you teach us here below,
And make us by a Demonstration know.
So plain your Proofs, so adequate to Sense,
Atheists and Deists sure must want Pretence:
And fully satisfied, no more deny,
Or doubt th' Existence of a Deity.
But wond'ring at their Error, now with Fear
Confess their Maker, and his Pow'r revere.
If this, and more, is owing to your Care,
And Principalities in Heaven are,
As sure, the Pious have no Cause to fear,
How eminent, great Sir! then must you be,
In the celestial glorious Hierarchy.

Ah! then, whilst here, don't thus your self exclude,
Nor hide a Star of the first Magnitude:
But let your voice your poor Disciples bless,
And pardon this toe confident Address.