Classic Poem

When the rude Vulgar in their headlong rages,
Pull'd down those sacred things, which former ages
Did hold inviolable; they began
To levell Times, and Places, and next Man:
Laid wast those Dayes, which our Grand sober Sires
Hallowed, to warme their zeale by heavenly fires
Dispark'd the Churches, and to Barnes did give
Pow'r to contest for the Prerogative.
When th'Churches dayes they with successe decri'd,
Next bark'd at those which Heaven had sanctifi'd,
'T was time to write when dayes to Saints assigned
Were all degraded; and the Lords new-coyned.
Our Authour (like the wiser few) stood still,
Observes, admires, and lets them take their fill
And now in milder temper he begins
T'assert those truths, which their blind rage call'd sins,
'Twere madnesse in a whirl-wind to resist
With any arguments, but club, and fist.
Thus God, when all things were i'th' Chaos hurl'd,
Did first make Light, and then he form'd the world.
The Author so, with imitating Art
Informes the judgement first, then moves the Heart.
Not like the Pseudo-levites of this season
That Preach all Use, without Ground, Proof, or Reason.
His Prose so sinewy, and yet so smooth,
His Verse so full of rhime and reason both.
His Prayers so heavenly, and his All so good,
Makes him at once admir'd, yet understood.
The Poets Character he hits aright,
And does at once both profit, and delight.
The ancient Method he doth well repair
In this Designe, a Sermon, Psalm, and Prayer.
May this Work thrive, that after Times, and we
May keep one Festivall to's Memory,
And Bonfires make, from whose undying flame
Shall rise bright Sparkes , t'immortalize his Name.