_Nadab_ that sets the gazing Crowd agape:
That old Kirk-founder, whose course Croak could sing
The Saints, the Cause, no Bishop, and no King:
When Greatness clear'd his Throat, and scowr'd his Maw,
Roard out Succession, and the Penal Law.
Not so of old: another sound went forth,
When in the Region from _Judea_ North,
By the Triumphant _Saul_ he was employ'd,
A huge fang Tusk to goar poor _Davids_ side.
Like a Proboscis in the Tyrants Jaw,
To rend and root through Government and Law.
His hand that Hell-penn'd League of _Belial_ drew, }
That Swore down Kings, Religion overthrew, }
Great _David_ banisht, and Gods Prophets slew. }
Nor does the Courts long Sun so powerful shine,
T'exhale his Vapours, or his Dross refine;
Nor is the Metal mended by the stamp.
With his rank oyl he feeds the Royal Lamp.
To Sanedrins an everlasting Foe,
Resolv'd his Mighty Hunters overthrow.
And true to Tyranny, as th'only Jem,
That truly sparkles in a Diadem;
To _Absalons_ side does his old _Covenant_ bring,
With _State_ raz'd out, and interlin'd with KING.
But _Nadabs_ Zeal has too severe a Doom;
Whilst serving an ungrateful _Absalom_,
His strength all spent his Greatness to create,
He's now laid by a cast-out Drone of State.
He rowz'd that Game by which he is undone,
By fleeter Coursers now so far outrun,