frequent
  The appointed club, can let sedition pass,
  Sense, nonsense, anything to employ the glass;
  And who believe, in their dull honest hearts, 530
  The rest talk reason but to show their parts;
  Who ne’er had wit or will for mischief yet,
  But pleased to be reputed of a set.

   But in the sacred annals of our plot,
  Industrious Arod never be forgot: 
  The labours of this midnight-magistrate,
  May vie with Corah’s to preserve the state. 
  In search of arms, he fail’d not to lay hold
  On war’s most powerful, dangerous weapon—­gold. 
  And last, to take from Jebusites all odds, 540
  Their altars pillaged, stole their very gods;
  Oft would he cry, when treasure he surprised,
  ’Tis Baalish gold in David’s coin disguised;
  Which to his house with richer relics came,
  While lumber idols only fed the flame: 
  For our wise rabble ne’er took pains to inquire,
  What ’twas he burnt, so ’t made a rousing fire. 
  With which our elder was enrich’d no more
  Than false Gehazi with the Syrian’s store;
  So poor, that when our choosing-tribes were met, 550
  Even for his stinking votes he ran in debt;
  For meat the wicked, and, as authors think,
  The saints he choused for his electing drink;
  Thus every shift and subtle method past,
  And all to be no Zaken at the last.

   Now, raised on Tyre’s sad ruins, Pharaoh’s pride
  Soar’d high, his legions threatening far and wide;
  As when a battering storm engender’d high,
  By winds upheld, hangs hovering in the sky,
  Is gazed upon by every trembling swain—­ 560
  This for his vineyard fears, and that, his grain;
  For blooming plants, and flowers new opening these,
  For lambs yean’d lately, and far-labouring bees: 
  To guard his stock each to the gods does call,
  Uncertain where the fire-charged clouds will fall: 
  Even so the doubtful nations watch his arms,
  With terror each expecting his alarms. 
  Where, Judah! where was now thy lion’s roar? 
  Thou only couldst the captive lands restore;
  But thou, with inbred broils and faction press’d, 570
  From Egypt needst a guardian with the rest. 
  Thy prince from Sanhedrims no trust allow’d,
  Too much the representers of the crowd,
  Who for their own defence give no supply,
  But what the crown’s prerogatives must buy: 
  As if their monarch’s rights to violate
  More needful were, than to preserve the state! 
  From present dangers they divert their care,
  And all their fears are of the royal heir;
  Whom now the reigning malice of his foes 580
  Unjudged would sentence, and e’er crown’d depose. 
  Religion the pretence, but their decree
  To bar his reign, whate’er his faith