Where had they all their gifted phrases, 635
But from our CALAMYS and cases? 
Without whose sprinkling and sowing,
Who e’er had heard of Nye or Owen? 
Their dispensations had been stifled,
But for our ADONIRAM Byfield; 640
And had they not begun the war,
Th’ had ne’er been sainted, as they are: 
For Saints in peace degenerate,
And dwindle down to reprobate;
Their zeal corrupts, like standing water, 645
In th’ intervals of war and slaughter;
Abates the sharpness of its edge,
Without the power of sacrilege. 
And though they’ve tricks to cast their sins
As easy as serpents do their skins, 650
That in a while grow out agen,
In peace they turn mere carnal men,
And from the most refin’d of saints,
As naturally grow miscreants,
As barnacles turn soland geese 655
In th’ Islands of the Orcades. 
Their dispensation’s but a ticket,
For their conforming to the wicked;
With whom the greatest difference
Lies more in words, and shew, than sense. 660
For as the Pope, that keeps the gate
Of Heaven, wears three crowns of state;
So he that keeps the gate of Hell,
Proud Cerberus, wears three heads as well;
And if the world has any troth 665
Some have been canoniz’d in both. 
But that which does them greatest harm,
Their spiritual gizzards are too warm,
Which puts the over-heated sots
In fevers still, like other goats. 670
For though the Whore bends Hereticks
With flames of fire, like crooked sticks,
Our Schismaticks so vastly differ,
Th’ hotter th’ are, they grow the stiffer;
Still setting off their spiritual goods 675
With fierce and pertinacious feuds. 
For zeal’s a dreadful termagant,
That teaches Saints to tear and rant,
And Independents to profess
The doctrine of dependences:  680
Turns meek, and secret, sneaking ones,
To raw-heads fierce and bloody-bones: 
And, not content with endless quarrels
Against the wicked, and their morals,
The GIBELLINES, for want of GUELPHS, 685
Divert their rage upon themselves. 
For now the war is not between
The Brethren and the Men of Sin,
But Saint and Saint, to spill the blood
Of one another’s brotherhood; 690
Where neither side can lay pretence
To liberty of conscience,
Or zealous suff’ring for the cause,
To gain one groat’s-worth of applause;
For though endur’d with resolution, 695
’Twill ne’er amount to persecution. 
Shall precious Saints, and secret ones,
Break one another’s outward bones,