A BALLAD.
Have you not heard of a pious Fray,
Which happen'd in this Town,
Between a stubborn Heretick,
And Champion of the Gown?
To St. Andrew's we will go, will go, will go, will go,
To St. Andrew's we will go.
The Heretick, O bless us all!
Wou'd dare to say his Pray'rs;
And with that wicked, bold Intent,
To's Parish-Church repairs.
To St. Andrew's he did go, did go, did go, &c.
But when the Priest perceiv'd him there,
Good lack! his Zeal did rise,
It stopp'd his Pray'rs, and swell'd his Breast,
And threaten'd in his Eyes.
To St. Andrew's we will go, will go, will go, &c.
At last, in charitable Rage,
He sent this Message stout
Go, bid this Arian quit my Church,
Or I will turn him out.
From St. Andrew's he shall go, shall go, shall go, &c.
The resolute Free-Thinker then,
Oh, monst'rous to be told!
Deny'd the Pastor 's Right Divine,
To turn him from his Fold.
To St. Andrew's we will go, will go, will go, &c.
The zealous Priest now more enrag'd
At so prophane a Slight;
In rev'rend Person then advanc'd,
To th' unbelieving Wight.
To St. Andrew's we will go, will go, will go, &c.
Out of my Church, thou Infidel!
Nor think thou here shalt Pray;
Thy Sight disturbs my pious Soul,
Therefore, away, away!
From St. Andrew's thou shalt go, shall go, shalt go, &c.
I am no Infidel, he said;
What Sacred Writings Teach,
I do most stedfastly believe;
But not all that You Preach.
To St. Andrew's we will go, will go, will go, &c.
The lawless Pow'r, usurp'd by Priests,
I neither own nor fear;
God 's Word's my Guide, he is my Judge,
And him I worship here.
To St. Andrew's we will go, will go, will go, &c.
The Orthodox to this replies,
You've no Authority,
T'explain that Word, but should submit
To the Church's wise Decree.
To St. Andrew's we will go, will go, will go, &c.
The Church, the Church, you shou'd obey,
Nor once her Pow'r dispute;
Sh' interprets Right, she never Errs,
And she is Absolute.
To St. Andrew's we will go, will go, will go, &c.
But oh! what Boots this learn'd Advice,
Where Ignorance prevails
This Reas'ning Wretch, from Holy Church,
To's Bible still Appeals.
To St. Andrew's we will go, will go, will go, &c.
Alack! alack! that Book will prove
Too strong, I plainly see,
For Athanasius and the Church,
With all their Mystery!
To St. Andrew's we will go, will go, will go, &c.
O pious, wise, Sacheverell!
How prudent's thy Command!
To lock him out of all the Seats,
Since Thee he durst withstand.
To St. Andrew's we will go, will go, will go, &c.
Then let him stand in Gallery,
And be each Tory's Jest;
That He hereafter may take Care
How he provokes a Priest.
To St. Andrew's we will go, will go, will go, &c.
Ye Bigots, and Free-Thinkers all,
Who hear this holy Fray;
A while suspend your other Feuds,
To Holborn let's away!
To St. Andrew's we will go, will go, will go, &c.
There we shall hear Sacheverell
Damn Hereticks aloud!
And Whiston see, in patient Mood,
Amidst the gapeing Croud.
To St. Andrew's we will go, will go, will go, will go,
To St. Andrew's we will go.