The New Hampshire Gazette And Historical Chronicle

To the PRINTER.

SIR,

Please to insert the Enclosed in your next, being an Essay in Answer to a Piece in your Paper of July 13th. last, which begins thus:

Quite mad with Zeal the Bigot raves, &c.

And you will oblige one of your Customers who is your humble Servant, and a lover of Truth.

July 31st. 1764.

AND must God's Truth, the Glory of our Land,

By black mouth'd Apes for Vice and Scandal stand?

Can Our Zeal sleep! or are our Passions tame,

Nor call Justice and Darkness on the Scribbler's Name,

Why pour the Skies not, why no Clouds do roll;

Nor kindling Flashes fright his guilty Soul:

Th' impudent Wretch to stab the Truth of God.

And wound thy Soul by an infernal Flood:

Dost thou not know! that Creeds the Truth shall stand,

A brazen Wall against thy cursed Hand.

Such native Goodness! such a Bolus Grace!

Was never stamp'd but on thy vulgar Face:

Thy darkning Characters so clearly shine.

They wholly tell the Spite and Rhime was thine:

Boast of thy golden Zone and bright Attire,

Thy tarry Crown, black mouth and charming Lyre,

With all thy foul Address and strutting Show;

The Fop usurps the celestial Beau,

Snarling Dog, tho Place thee bred, so full of Play,

Thou'lt entertain thy gaping Whelps all Day:

Of thee false Deist, they will gape so proud,

From thy foul Hands alone to take their Food

As to Abuse God's Truth with many a Bound

And airy Frisk, they seem to butt the Ground:

And this with my future Wishes shall be thine,

If thou, for me, thy rival Papers wilt decline,

My proffers now, and artless Council hear.

And turn from thy mock, Lies thy listning Ear

For we can boast a Creed more pure than Gold,

Which Libertines and Goats can ne'er unfold;

If o'er libertine Plains, thou tak'st a Race,

Twill pluck you back and stop the Devil's Chace

Dupes and Slaves we disdain and scorn to'be,

But souls the Teacher that is led by thee;

The uncensuring Watcher of thy Race,

Will say, poor I, the Pastor of this Place,

Scarce can I get bread to eat, Or Cloaths to wear,

Because my Sheep are Goats, their Wool is Hair,

And this good Sir, I frankly offer thee.

To leave Lucifer's Paths and follow me.