Wesley Corpus

Call it the Church, and darkness put for light, Falshood with truth confound, and wrong with right? No: I dispute the evil's haughty claim, The spirit of the world be still its name, Whatever call'd by man 'tis purely evil, 'Tis Babel, antichrist, and pope and devil! Nor would I e'er disgrace the Church's cause By penal edicts, and compulsive laws, (Should wicked powers, as formerly prevail T' exclude her choicest children from her pale) Or force my brethren in her forms to join, As every jot and tittle were divine, Page 8 As all her orders on the mount were given, And copied from the hierarchy of heaven. Let others for the shape and colour fight Of garments short or long, or black or white; Or fairly match'd, in furious battle join For and against the sponsors and the sign; Copes, hoods, and surplices the Church miscall, And fiercely run their heads against the wall; Far different care is mine; o'er earth to see Diffus'd her true essential piety, To see her lift again her languid head, Her lovely face from ev'ry wrinkle freed, Clad in the simple, pure, primeval dress, And beauteous with internal holiness, Wash'd by the Spirit and the word from sin, Fair without spot, and glorious all within. Alas! How distant now, how desolate, Our fallen Sion, in her captive state! Deserted by her friends, and laugh'd to scorn, By inbred foes, and bosom vipers torn, With grief I mark their rancorous despight; With horror hear the clam'rous Edomite; Page 9 "Down with her to the ground," who fiercely cries, "No more to lift her head, no more to rise! Down with her to the pit, to Tophet doom A Church emerging from the dregs of Rome! Can there in such a church salvation be? Can any good come out of popery?" Ye moderate dissenters come and see! See us, when from the papal fire we came, Ye frozen sects, and warm you at the flame, Where for the truth our host of martyrs stood, And clapp'd their hands, and seal'd it with their blood! Behold Elijah's fiery steeds appear, Discern the chariot of our Israel near! That flaming car, for whom doth it come down? The spouse of Christ? Or whore of Babylon? For martyrs, by the Scarlet Whore pursu'd