And neither have the hearts to stay,
Nor wit enough to run away; 570
Who, if we cou’d resolve on either,
Might stand or fall at least together;
No mean or trivial solace
To partners in extreme distress;
Who us’d to lessen their despairs, 575
By parting them int’ equal shares;
As if the more they were to bear,
They felt the weight the easier;
And ev’ry one the gentler hung,
The more he took his turn among. 580
But ’tis not come to that, as yet,
If we had courage left, or wit;
Who, when our fate can be no worse,
Are fitted for the bravest course;
Have time to rally, and prepare 585
Our last and best defence, despair;
Despair, by which the gallant’st feats
Have been atchiev’d in greatest straits,
And horrid’st danger safely wav’d,
By being courageously out-brav’d; 590
As wounds by wider wounds are heal’d,
And poisons by themselves expell’d: 
And so they might be now agen,
If we were, what we shou’d be, men;
And not so dully desperate, 595
To side against ourselves with Fate;
As criminals, condemn’d to suffer,
Are blinded first, and then turn’d over. 
This comes of breaking Covenants,
And setting up Exauns of Saints, 600
That fine, like aldermen, for grace,
To be excus’d the efficace. 
For Spiritual men are too transcendent,
That mount their banks for Independent,
To hang like Mahomet in th’ air, 605
Or St. Ignatius at his prayer,
By pure geometry, and hate
Dependence upon Church or State;
Disdain the pedantry o’ th’ letter;
And since obedience is better 610
(The Scripture says) than sacrifice,
Presume the less on’t will suffice;
And scorn to have the moderat’st stints
Prescrib’d their peremptory hints,
Or any opinion, true or false, 615
Declar’d as such, in doctrinals
But left at large to make their best on,
Without b’ing call’d t’ account or question,
Interpret all the spleen reveals;
As Whittington explain’d the bells; 620
And bid themselves turn back agen
Lord May’rs of New Jerusalem;
But look so big and over-grown,
They scorn their edifiers t’ own,
Who taught them all their sprinkling lessons, 625
Their tones, and sanctified expressions
Bestow’d their Gifts upon a Saint,
Like Charity on those that want;
And learn’d th’ apocryphal bigots
T’ inspire themselves with short-hand notes; 630
For which they scorn and hate them worse
Than dogs and cats do sow-gelders. 
For who first bred them up to pray,
And teach, the House of Commons Way?