Church, Samuel, 1755-1826. A poetical flame blown up by the breath of a fanatical religioso / H. Catholicus : manuscript, 1786. MS Am 1894.1 (1). Houghton Library, Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass.

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A poetical flame blown up by the breath of a fana= tic religioso - or a prolific imagination, stumbling on various subjects, that does no honor to Christianity.

The wisest man is but a fool,

An idiot dull in wisdoms school;

But little more than brutish, wise,

A brute dressd up in fools disguise;

Nor can the Christian boast a name

Than just to glory in his shame;

Nor can the wisest boast a soul,

Superior to the grov'ling fool;

Here then alone the difrence lies,

One man's a fool, & one's unwise

By H. Catholicus, 1786

To the reverend Religioso With but little apology, I humbly make make this dedication, presenting it to your perusal, under whose patronage I flatter myself I have nothing to fear

The following lines, tho' fraught with nothing more than some accidental excellence, perhaps may afford some satisfaction to a leisure mind-

And should they not please you, conclude not from hence, that your mind is widely different from every bodys else, for they neither please me, nor can I take much satisfaction in those rough sounds that only fill my head with discords But should you be possessd of a file, you might rub off some of those asperities, that have a principle hand in racising the continual plenary gargon -

I am SC

1

Introduction

Amidst the wild career, incepant whirl

Of giddy fancy, hovering round my soul

Or warm imagination blazing high

With tow'ring folly aiming to discry

The road that leads to seats of higher bliss

Celestial mansions deckd with joy & peace

I would begin to paint the flowry road

That leads from nature up to natures God

And paint the steps the Christian's feet should tread

Or warm the heart & fill with light the head

Tis nature gives the hint to grovling man

Tis reason aids him in the important plan

Made rational his soul abhors the stain

That in reflection gives his senses pain

To act beneath the rational within

To horror & the conscious stain obscene

Nor can that dread obscenity depart

And leave untouchd the tender feeling heart

But conscious of the wound that broke its peace

It instant feels the tortures of distress

With accusations fraught with crimson shame