A _Star_, whose Influence had more powerful Light,
Then that Miraculous Wanderer of the Night,
Decreed to guide the Eastern Sages way:
Their's to adore a God, his to betray.

Here the new Convert more than half inspir'd,
Strait to his Closet and his Books retir'd.
There for all needful Arts in this extreme,
For knotty Sophistry t'a limber Theme,
Long brooding ere the Mass to Shape was brought,
And after many a tugging heaving Thought,
Together a well-orderd Speech he draws,
With ponderous Sounds for his much-labour'd Cause.
Then the astonisht Sanedrim he storm'd,
And with such doughty strength the Tug perform'd:
Fate did the Work with so much Conquest bless,
Wondrous the Champion, Glorious the Success.
So powerful Eloquence, so strong was Wit;
And with such Force the easie Wind-falls hit.

But the entirest Hearts his Cause could steal,
Were the Levitick Chiefs of _Israel_.
None with more Rage the Impious Thought run down
Of barring _Absolon_, Pow'r, Wishes, Crown.
With so much vehemence, such fiery Zeal!
Oh, poor unhappy Church of _Israel!_
Thou feelst the Fate of the Arch-angels Wars,
The Dragons Tayl sweeps down thy Falling Stars.
Nay, the black Vote 'gainst _Absolon_ appear'd
So monstrous, that they damn'd it ere 'twas heard.