These lent at once NASSAW and ENGLAND Aid, And bright MARIA to our _Shores_ convey'd: Her, all their _Pow'r_ and all their _Charms_ they gave, To _govern_ what her _Heroe_ came to _save_. Nor _Envy_ this, who in her noisome Cell By _Traitors_ in their swift _Descent to Hell_, Her rising _Glories_ heard, then with a _Groan_ She crawl'd before her _Sov'reign's_ direful _Throne_: A _Pile of Sculls_ the odious _Fantom_ bore, With _Bones_ half-naked mixt, and dropping putrid _Gore_; 860 There thus--Shall _Heav'n_ defraud us of our _Reign_, And BRITAIN, only BRITAIN break her _Chain_? What can we there, while more than _mortal Grace_ Forbids our _Entrance_, and secures the _Place_? Awhile I _gaz'd_ and _viewed_ her as I _fled_, When first she came, till half my _Snakes_ were dead; And had I tarry'd longer near her _Throne_, Had soon some base _insipid Vertue_ grown: So fast the wide _progressive Ills_ increase, } If longer unoppos'd our _Power_ will cease; } 870 The base degenerate World _dissolve_ to Peace; } Our boasted _Empire_ there will soon be o'er, And _Mortals_ tremble at our _Arms_ no more. She said, her _Tidings_ all the _Court_ affright, And doubled _Horror_ fill'd the _Realms of Night_: Till out foul _Lewdness_ leap'd, and shook the Place. } The _fulsom'st Fiend_ of all th' _infernal Race_; } A crusted _Leprosie_ deform'd her _Face_; } With half a _bloodshot_ Eye the _Fury_ glar'd, Yet when for _Mischief_ she above prepar'd, 880 She _painted_ and she _dress'd_, those _Arts_ she knew, And to her _self_ her self a _Stranger_ grew, (Thus _old_ and batter'd _Bawds_ behind the Scenes, New _rigg'd_ and _dawb'd_, pass on the _Stage_ for _Queens_;) Nor yet, she cries, of _Britain_ we'll _despair_ } I've yet some _trusty Friends_ in _Ambush_ there, } All is not lost, we've still the _Theatre_: } I'll batter _Virtue_ thence, nor fear to gain } New _Subjects daily_ from her _hated Reign_; } Is not Great _D----_ ours and all his _Train_? } He knows he has new _Laurels_ here prepar'd, } 890 For those he lost _above_, a just Reward, } For his wide _Conquests_ he'll _command the Guard_: } _Headed_ by him one _Foot_ we'll scorn to yield, Tho _Virtue's_ glitt'ring _Squadrons_ drive the _Field_: Grant me, Dread _Sov'reign_! a _Detachment_ hence } We'll not be long alone on our _Defence_, } But hope to drive the proud _Assailants_ thence. } Bold _Blasphemy_ shall lead our black _Forlorn_, With _Colours_ from _Heav'n's Crystal Ramparts_ torn, And _Anti-Thunderrs_ arm'd; _Profaneness_ next 900 Their _Canon_ seize, and turn the _Sacred Text_ Against th' _Assailants_; brave _Revenge_ and _Rage_ Shall our _main Batt'ry_ ply, and guard the _Stage_. --But most I on dear _Ribaldry_ depend,