Their flesh was never to the table served; Though 'tis not thence inferr'd the birds were starved; But that their master did not like the food, As rank, and breeding melancholy blood. Nor did it with his gracious nature suit, Even though they were not Doves, to persecute: 980 Yet he refused (nor could they take offence) Their glutton kind should teach him abstinence. Nor consecrated grain their wheat he thought, Which, new from treading, in their bills they brought: But left his hinds each in his private power, That those who like the bran might leave the flour. He for himself, and not for others, chose, Nor would he be imposed on, nor impose; But in their faces his devotion paid, And sacrifice with solemn rites was made, 990 And sacred incense on his altars laid. Besides these jolly birds, whose corpse impure Repaid their commons with their salt-manure; Another farm[132] he had behind his house, Not overstock'd, but barely for his use: Wherein his poor domestic poultry fed, And from his pious hands received their bread. Our pamper'd Pigeons, with malignant eyes, Beheld these inmates, and their nurseries: Though hard their fare, at evening, and at morn, 1000 A cruise of water and an ear of corn; Yet still they grudged that modicum, and thought A sheaf in every single grain was brought. Fain would they filch that little food away, While unrestrain'd those happy gluttons prey. And much they grieved to see so nigh their hall, The bird that warn'd St Peter of his fall; That he should raise his mitred crest on high, And clap his wings, and call his family To sacred rites; and vex the ethereal powers 1010 With midnight matins at uncivil hours: Nay more, his quiet neighbours should molest, Just in the sweetness of their morning rest. Beast of a bird, supinely when he might Lie snug and sleep, to rise before the light! What if his dull forefathers used that cry, Could he not let a bad example die? The world was fallen into an easier way; This age knew better than to fast and pray. Good sense in sacred worship would appear 1020 So to begin, as they might end the year. Such feats in former times had wrought the falls Of crowing Chanticleers[133] in cloister'd walls. Expell'd for this, and for their lands, they fled; And sister Partlet,[134] with her hooded head, Was hooted hence, because she would not pray a-bed. The way to win the restive world to God, Was to lay by the disciplining rod, Unnatural fasts, and foreign forms of prayer: Religion frights us with a mien severe. 1030 'Tis prudence to reform her into ease, And put her in undress to make her please; A lively faith will bear aloft the mind, And leave the luggage of good works behind.