This final Resolution made, at last
Some Mystick words, and invocations past,
They call'd the Spirit of a late Court-Scribe;
Once a true Servant of the Plotting Tribe:
When both with Forreign and Domestick Cost,
He plaid the feasted Sanedrims kind Host.
H'had scribbled much, and like a Patriot bold,
Bid high for _Israels_ Peace with _Egypts_ Gold.
But since a Martyr. (Why! as Writers think,
His Masters Hand had over-gall'd his Ink.)
And by protesting _Absoloms_ wise care,
Popt into Brimstone ere he was aware.
Him from the Grave they rais'd, in ample kind,
His sever'd Head to his seer Quarters joyn'd;
Then cas'd his Chin in a false Beard so well,
As made him pass for Father _Samuel_.
Him thus equipt in a Religious Cloak,
They thus his new-made Reverence bespoke.

Go, awful Spright, hast to _Achitophel_,
Rouze his great Soul, use every Art, Charm, Spell:
For _Absolom_ thy utmost Rhetorick try,
Preach him Succession, roar'd Succession cry,
Succession drest in all her glorious pride,
Succession Worshipt, Sainted, Deify'd.
Conjure him by Divine and Humane Pow'rs,
Convince, Convert, Confound, make him but ours,
That _Absolon_ may mount on _Judahs_ Throne,
Whilst all the World before us is our own.