Dear Momus come, and help me laugh—
This England is the stay and staff
Of true religion—more than half!
She is the prop of all that's good,
A bulwark, which for ages stood
To guard the path and mark the road!
One proof of which can soon be brought,
The temple rais'd to Jaggernaut,[A]
And India to his temple brought,
[A] The temple of Jaggernaut, an idolatrous establishment in India, to the support of which the english government contributed largely. The unwieldy idol, to which the temple is dedicated, is, on certain days, carried about the streets on a huge carriage, under the wheels of which the superstitious multitude, it is said, suffer themselves to be trampled and crushed to pieces, by hundreds, from a superstitious motive. If this be not fiction, may the british government exert its influence to eradicate so barbarous and bloody a superstition from the minds of millions of idolatrous wretches.—Freneau's note.
To see her murder'd, mangled sons,
To worship idols, stocks, and stones,
Or reliques of some scoundrel's bones.
And "long may heaven on England smile—
(So says our preacher, all the while)
The world's last hope, fast anchor'd isle!"—
Religion there is made no sport,
State tailors there have deckt her out
In a birth-day suit—to go to court!—