The Tribe of Levi - A Poem
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The source of this document is the Early English Books Online (EEBO-TCP) website. Those books were transcribed in a character for character manner and can be very cumbersome to read since there was no standard spelling during that time. Many spelling variations such as "unlesse", "vnlesse", and "vnles" regularly appear.
This project was conceived to clean up those books as much as possible and make them more accessible to the interested reader, leading to the creation of a massive list of variant spellings and their corrections. This was used to clean up the text, but is of course only as complete as the list itself. Because of the nature of the original transcription, some words have missing characters or places where the original language (e.g., Greek) was not transcribed. This effort does not change that. Be aware that the original transcription can also be faulty and in some cases entire sentences may be missing.
Although this is no substitute for a properly compared, proofed, and scholarly edition, I believe that the result is a document which is far more accessible, particularly for searching for terms using standard spelling. The document has been cleaned and presented in what I hope is a pleasing and useful format for the vast majority of Christian brothers and sisters who just want access to read these spiritually nourishing works.
However, a word of warning: The Puritans were a very diverse group of people and their age was characterized with godliness, but also much upheaval, disputation and strife. They disagreed on many doctrines and some of these works contain less orthodox or Scriptural views than others. The reader is strongly advised to read with discernment, particularly if it is unknown whether author is trustworthy.
This project took a huge amount of time and skill to bring to fruition. I would particularly like to thank David Jonescue for the initial list of Puritans he found on EEBO and the concept behind this project as well as the continuous, unceasing efforts toward seeing this complete. Without his labor, this would not be available. Alex Sarrouf was invaluable in providing the initial list of over 7,000 spelling variations he had identified and corrected, as well as continuing to review more than 16,000 additions to that list for any typos.
Logan West
(with David Jonescue and Alex Sarrouf)
www.puritansearch.org
THE TRIBE OF LEVI. A POEM.
Doubtless a Church-man, while he keeps within the Sphere of his Duty to
God and his People is an Angel of Heaven, but when he shall degenerate
from his own Calling, and fall into the Intriegues of State and Time-serving,
he becomes a Devil, and from a Star in the Firmament of
Heaven, he becomes a Sooty Coal in the blackest Hell, and receiveth the
greatest Damnation.
Dr. Gumble, Pag. 23. of Monk 's Life.
Dr. Gumble, Pag. 23. of Monk 's Life.
LONDON, Printed in the Year, MDCXCI.
THE TRIBE OF LEVI. A POEM.
SInce Plagues were ordered for a Scourge to Men,
And
Egypt
was chastised with her Ten,
No greaten Plague did any State molest,
Than the severe, the worst of Plagues, a
Priest.
Some Savage Beasts, by Laws of Nature bound,
Only in Woods and desert Lands are found,
No Land, no Climate, can this Monster bind,
But like some Hydra multiplys his kind,
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Through th' extended Orb directs his Course,
And is at best a Universal Curse.
An happy
Albion,
to the God's most dear!
How bright thy Rocks and fertile Lands appear?
The Oceans glory, and its Nymphs delight,
The Nations Terror by thy Men of Might:
Thrice happy
Albion!
had there never possessed
Thy spacious Kingdoms, the consuming
Priest!
Who Locust-like the Nations overspread,
In every place a Priest erects his Head,
These, as the Fishes in the Water breed,
And on the Fat of all the Pastures feed.
Nor are they satisfied to have a Power
To drain the Nations and its Fat devour,
But like the Devil always bent on ill,
They plot new Mischiefs and Devices still,
Their unknown Virtues do the Crowd deceive,
What Priestly Knaves report, dull Fools believe;
Nor is a Prince (how great so'ere he be)
From their deceit and studdied Malice free,
Like Feinds ascending from the House of Smoak
They all aroud the gilded Palace flock,
And in the Ears of Monarchy they sing,
That had they not been Priests he had never been King.
Set off with Titles and a Specious name,
They quickly set the wondering World on flame;
Methinks I hear its burden'd Axles break,
And of the Priests dead weight distinctly speak;
The senseless Elements together moan,
And all around the vast Creation groan.
Ye juster Deities are Friends to Men,
Assist my Muse, and guide my fainting Pen;
A generous Passion raise within my Breast▪
That may affect the vilest Monster Priest,
Let my Muse lash, the strokes be bold and good,
As if my Pen were Steel, my Ink were Blood.
Close by those Banks, the Banks where Silver Theams
Still glides along with unpoluted Streams,
A Fabric stands, no Storm of Fate molests,
From its Foundation was possessed by Priests;
Here
Levi
lives, over grown with sin and Years,
Good God, what Lewdness lurks in hoary Hairs,
As chief of Priests imperial sway does bear,
For he alone is God's Vicegerent here;
His lesser Villians of the Church are Slaves,
For he that's chief of Priest is chief of Knaves.
'Twas this same
Levi
did our
James
enthrone,
And when h' had done as basely pulled him down:
The
Levites
first his Sovereign will declared,
The
Levites
first his Sovereign will debar'd;
And thus old
Levi,
through mistaken fame,
Had got a Patriots and a Martyrs name;
Him th' unstable Mob with praises graceit,
And thus his humor, for his Conscience past,
Morose and Peevish, insolently proud,
Levi
would stoop to none but to the Crowd,
Who, e're the Rable could his Blessings crave,
His Apostolic Benedictions gave.
Unhappy
James!
Prepostrous was the Fate!
That brought on thee the Clergys frown and hate,
Hadst thou our Civil Rights and Charters took
Not half a word the Clergy then had spoak;
But to molest the Church was to depose▪
God's holy Blockheads, and set up his Foes.
Now Foreign Troops invited over the Main,
Come to disturb the Scenes of thy short Reign,
Grown mad with fear when thou hadst lost the Day,
And in inglorious haste didst run away.
Our pious
Levi,
loyally came down
T' invite our future Monarch to the Town.
How beggarly's the Crown? how mean the State,
That does depend on Bishops love or hate!
Nor can Conventions now make him a King,
Till
Levi
does the Regal Vestments bring:
If vain's your reasoning, in vain your toil,
If
Levi
but keep back th' anointing Oil.
'Twas not for this the Hero was brought over,
Only to settle Church as was before,
To beat his Dad, and call his Mother Whore.
Should he be crowned,
Levi
's Designs are crossed,
The juggle too of the Succession lost,
If
James
be reinthron'd we must ascribe
His Restoration unto
Levi
's Tribe:
And thus the Hierarchy of course bears Rule,
And the weak Monarch is the Bishop's Tool;
None but the Church should keep their Civil Rights,
And all Dissenters be but
Gibeonites,
So much these Arguments with
Levi
swayed
That he aside his Faith and Conscience laid.
At once the Sanhedrim and God forsook,
And to his own pernicious Councils took,
Rather than have his Priests lest in the lurch,
Would damn himself only to save the Church.
Thus in a Fret he to his Cell retires,
To plot new Mischiefs and blow up new Fires.
Had this retirement been well designed,
Only to case the Plague of human kind,
Levi,
thy absence then we never could mourn,
Nor been ambitious of thy loathed return;
But since thy Den's become the Lyon's Court,
Whether in Black the Beasts of Prey resort,
May'st thou from thence thy final Journey take▪
And on some Gibbet thy just Exit make.
Nor shalt thou
Corah,
now my hand is in,
Escape the justest censure of my Pen;
Corah,
in the lewd List, must next take place,
To Man and to Religion a disgrace.
In him, when Young, the Priestly Sign appears,
Did promise Mischief in his tender Years,
No cost was wanting to provide him Tools,
To pass the learned drudgery of the Schools,
Where Youth is with the Laws Corruption fed,
Where Priests are formed and holy Cheats are bred.
Their cursed Tenants much our
Corah
loved,
And in the Tricks of Priesthood soon improved:
He from the Pulpit did his Doctrine breath,
And shed his Venome on the Crowd beneath:
He taught, That Kings might Govern by their Will,
And like the God's themselves could nere do ill;
That Princes had an uncontrolled Power,
And might their Subjects, when they pleased, devour;
That God all Reason gave to Kings and Priests,
And that all men besides were only Beasts:
But when his Lyon from the Throne was driven,
Disown'd by all good men and juster heaven,
A King set up the Nations all approved
A King, that God and all the People loved,
Our treacherous
Corah
had his Faith forgot,
Ad turned his famed Obedience to a Plot;
His scruplous Conscience would not let him swear,
Whilst Father lived, Obedience to the Heir;
But in the head of a Rebellious Race,
As void of moral Virtues as of Grace.
Corah
the new made Monarch did disown,
And since the other went, each Action done,
Until King
William
's Fate resounds from sar,
His great Success and Enterprise in War,
And Fame aloud does of his Fortunes tell,
How by his hand the Sons of
Corah
fell,
Now
Corah
is become a milder Priest,
And swears as well as any of the rest;
Priests are like▪ Spaniels never inclined to good,
No longer then they see▪ or feel the Rod.
Ah
William
had I but thy Scepter Royal!
By Heaven▪ i'de beat the Dogs, till they were Loyal.
Ungrateful
Corah!
I will bid the adieu!
Since God hath left thee, I will leave thee too!
Nor shall my Satyr 'ere disturb thy Life,
Since thou hast got a Satyr in a Wife.
Dathan
must next be from Oblivion free'd,
Who in the Feild obtained the Bishops meed,
Was bred a Soldier, now by Trade a Priest,
Though not so wise or learned as the rest,
He seldom does to preaching make pretence,
But does excuse it by his want of sense.
Yet
Dathan
never like his Tribe was mad,
Nor were his Crimes so great or half so bad;
Dathan
did never question his Belief,
But pinn'd his Faith upon his Father's Sleeve,
Sometimes was in the right, but vay'd soon,
And changed his Opinion with the Moon.
Dathan
did with King
William
's Intrest close,
Yet like a Sot encouraged his Foes;
Who but wise
Dathan
would his sense prefer,
And take the part of a Petitioner?
Favor the City Mob so lately famed▪
For Murderers and Evidences named;
Yet
Dathan,
though thy Crimes too far exceed,
I will pardon all thy Faults for one good Deed.
But damned
Abiram,
must my Anger feel,
Whose lewdness is as deep, as black as Hell,
Such as a Muse, scarce as Old Nick can tell.
Abiram
did late
Iemmy
's will control,
And made a Seventh in the famous Roul;
Abiram
with 'em entered his Protest,
And grew as saucy as did all the rest:
But now his Conscience does by
Levi
's square,
And his lew'd Thoughts with
Levi
's Notes Compare.
Levi,
to God nor to the Kingdom true,
The Elder Brother of the Factious Crew;
He chose
Abiram
out of all the Tribe,
To be his Secretary and his Scribe,
Who best to Mr.
Redding
might present
The strength and weakness of the Government,
How stiff the
Levites
to his Intrest stood,
As true as Steel and firm as Oaken Wood:
But poor
Abiram
does the toil endure,
Whilst
Levi
in his Cell does sit secure:
Levi
of freedom knew the worth and price,
And therefore sent the Fools to break the Ice;
Though some in forming Plots may well agree,
Yet few think good to hang for Company:
But poor
Abiram!
it would vex a stone,
To plot in number and to hang alone;
Yet never at thy Destiny repine,
Hanging's the fittest Death for a Divine:
For who does ever at the Gallows swing▪
But 'ere he's turned off a Psalm does sing;
And though thou art a dire Example made,
Thou'lt leave the World in thy way of Trade▪
Nor must
Abiathar
be here forgot,
For he that will can write can make a plot:
Of any Faith he never maketh doubt,
But like the Wind his Conscience veers about▪
In lofty strains he Tyrant Noll did praise,
And to his Fame a lasting Statue raise;
Who in Usurpers praise employ their Pens,
Have no Affection to their Lawful Prince,
What e're pretence to Priesthood may belong,
Gold is their God and Glory guides their Tongue;
These even
Belzebub
have quite outdone,
In Priest thy
Athen's
Plagues are crammed in one.
But now my Muse another Story tells,
Pray hear the sound of Pious
Aaron
's Bells,
Whose strength of Zeal suppresses that of Sence,
Where Flesh does fail Devotion does commence;
Tyr'd with Age of Youthful Vigour free,
He is devout of mere necessity;
His great Austerity his Tribe does suit,
He sometimes rides, but oftener walks on foot;
Such pageant Zeal attendeth Bishoprics,
He well may walk▪ where follows Coach and Six▪
Nor can he pray but where his Pictures stand,
To fix his Zeal and wandering Thoughts command;
Thcse Images do pious heats Confer,
And raise Devotion up the Lord knows where;
He soars so high and to the Clouds does grow,
He quite forgets all Loyalty below,
Can take no Oath nor swallow any Test,
But must be stubborn as are all the rest.
Let lasting Infamy Curst
Zadoc
damn,
Who maketh all Religion but a sham;
Zadoc,
who boasts of Fighting, Drinking, Roaring,
And above all his mighty strength in Whoring;
Yet to debauch his Conscience is loath,
And swears by God, he cannot take the Oath:
Let
Zadoc
to his Sins stand firm and stiff,
'Till Triple Tree shall take the Triple F—
Next; in the List, must
Eleazar
come,
A Foe to
England,
and a Friend to
Rome:
Priests in Divinity take little Pains,
And with Religion seldom crack their Brains:
This Want of Sense made
Eleazar
run
The first to worship the arising Sun.
When Brother Priests arrived here from
Rome,
Good
Eleazar
did invite them Home:
He took his Coach, and mighty Stir he made
To be assistant at the Cavalcade;
But yet thy Coachman, as the Act expressed,
By most was thought the better sort of Priest,
He would not drive nor
Rome
's black Feinds adore,
When thou wert but Postillion to the Whore,
Whilst honest
Slash
did for his freedom strive,
Thou, like the Devil, unto
Rome
didst drive▪
Thy Brethren banished by the present Reign,
Thou longst to view and welcome here again,
Not the lewd
Levites,
which arrive from
Rome,
Are greater Villains than our Priests at home;
The Churches Warriors of thy py-bald band▪
That Plague the Natives of this wretched Land,
That blow the Coals and warmer Blood ferment,
To cause a Feaver in the Government.
I will mention but one more and then have done,
'It is fighting
Joshua
the Son of
Nun,
Though he to Men of Sence is a Buffoon,
He serves to make a Spiritual Dragoon;
What though he cannot preach, or pray, or write,
He 'gainst his Country and his King can fight;
He's strongly armed, with a double Sword,
To fight God's Battils and to preace his Word:
What Wonders in the Feild were lately done,
By fighting
Joshua
the Son of
Nun?
He bravely
Monmouth
and his Force withstood,
And made the
Western
Land a Feild of Blood;
There
Joshua
did his reeking heat asswage,
On every Sign-Post Gibbet up his Rage,
Glutted with Blood like some most Christian Turk,
And scarce out done by
Iefferies
or
K
—;
Yet now the Priest is grown a Rebel too▪
Aud what
Monmothians
did himself can do,
Since thou like them art equally to blame,
Their Fate was to be hanged, be thine the same.
Should I of all the lesser Villians tell,
It would a great, a bulky Vollume fill,
Fit for the Devil's Library in Hell.
Should I their lewdness and their crimes relate,
Their Lust, their Perjuries, these Envy, hate,
Their filthy Drunkenness, their height of Pride,
Their Avarice yet Luxury beside,
Their want of Goodness and their want of Sence,
And their Repentance in the future Tense,
Their new coin'd Tenets▪ which the Pulpits fill,
Would tire
Pelling
's Passive Lungs to tell.
Hophnie
of old laid down his Rampant Whore,
And thumpit her Carcass at the Temple-Door;
But who can tell what Tricks our Driests do use▪
Behind the Altar, and within the Pews?
The ancient
Levites
(as the times then stood)
Were Men of Cruelty and Men of Blood,
The former harmless Bulls they did surprise,
And near the Altar show the Sacrifice;
Although the Butcher now does not take place,
The Cruelty's entailed upon the Race,
Our Priests are all descended from that Stem,
Nero
and
Aretine
are Saints to them;
They oft the Blood of War in Peace have spill'd,
How many Prisons has their Mallice filled?
How many Widows have they made a Prey?
What Goods the holy Guzmans stole away!
Well may they grieve now having lost the Power,
By which they Widows Houses did devour,
That Land's accurst, hath reason to lament
Where Priests are made▪ a piece of Government;
They damn our Souls and lead us weary Lives,
Mislead our Daughters and debauch our Wives;
Whatever show of Zeal the Priesthood paints,
They are at best but Cucoldizing Saints,
The Pious Vermin, that molest a State,
The Scource of all Disorder and Debate:
The bane of Princes, a Tumultuous Crew,
Not satisfied with what is old or new▪
For
James
they under went a wondrous Toll,
And greas'd his Head with their Anointing Oil:
But when he to the Jesuits tack'd about,
They as the Devel with Prayer cast him out;
Nor are they with their new made Monarch glad,
(The Priests have still a privilege to be mad)
Though easy, gentle and averse to Blood,
His only Crime he's to his Foes too good▪
Well may he have the Priests to be his Foes,
They even God Almighty would Depose.
FINIS.
ERRATUM.
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