Well had the wand'ring Spirits sped, And thro' the World their Poison spread, Made Lodgments in each tainted Breast; And each infected Heart possess'd. The _wayward Bus'ness_ being done, _Satan_ to make his Choice begun Of _under-Ministers_, to do What _One_ cou'd not be equal to. A _second Agent_, like the first, Who on _Daemoniac Milk_ was nurst, Had _Moorfields_ trusted to his Care, For _Satan_ keeps _an Office_ there. _Lean_ is the _Saint_, and _lank_, to shew That _Flesh and Blood to Heav'n can't go_; His Hair like _Candles_ hangs, a sign How bright his _inward Candles_ shine. Of _Satan_'s _Agents_ these _the Chief_, A thousand others lend Relief, And take some labour off their Hands, Each as th' _internal Sprite_ commands: But working with a _diff'rent Spell_, They lead by various Ways to _Hell_. Sickens the Soul? and is its state With _Sin_'s Disease grown desperate? To divers Quacks you may apply, And _special Nostrums_ of them buy. _Tottenham_'s the best accustom'd Place, There _Magus squints_ Men into _Grace_. _W-s--y_ sells Powders, Draughts, and Pills, Sov'reign against all sorts of Ills, _Assurance_ charms away the Fit, Or at least makes it intermit-- _M-d--n_ the springs of Health _unlocks_, And by his Preaching cures the _P----_ _R-m--ne_ works greater Wonders still, Pulls you by _Gravity up-Hill_, And for whate'er you do _amiss_, Rewards you with _celestial Bliss_; By your _bad Deeds_ your _Faith_ you shew, 'Tis but _believe_, and _up You go_. _B--rr--s_ and _W-r--r_ set up Shop, To sell _Religion_'s _Pill and Drop_, They teach their Patients how to fly On _Voice_ and _Action_ to the Sky. One of the _Magi of the East_, A _little perking, puppet-Priest_, Has got the _Harlequino_-way, His Patients Heav'nward to convey; And their Salvation to advance, A _Jig_ will _at the Altar dance_. Such were the _Plenipo_'s in _Town_, Who serv'd the _Diabolic_ Crown. Not far remov'd, a _female Friend_ Gave Proofs, that _Satan_ might depend On her best Service, and support, For what serv'd him, to her was Sport. _H----_, cloy'd with _carnal_ Bliss, Longing to taste how _Spirits_ kiss, Bids _Chapels_ for her _Saints_ arise, Which are but _Bagnios_ in Disguise; Where She may suck her _T----_'s Breath, Expiring in _seraphic_ Death.