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Where's now that spirit with which at Cressy we, So strangely prodigal of late we are,
It was not so when Agincourt was won; And then with desperate boldness they endeavour,
And cowardice did valour's place supply, Then France was her own story fudly taught, Like those that kill themselves for fear to die! And felt how Cæfar and how Edward fought. What frantic diligence in these men appears,
It was not so when that vast fleet of Spain That fear all ills, and act o'er all their fears ! Lay torn and scatter'd on the English nain; Thus into war we scar'd ourselves; and who Through the proud world a virgin terror frook; But Aaron's sens, that the first trumpet blew? The Austrian crowns, and Rome's seven hills, she Fond men who not that they were to fhook!
keep To her great Neptune homag'd all his streams, For God, and not for sacrifice, their sheep! And all the wide-stretch'doccan was her Thanies. The churches first this murderous doctrine sow, Thus our forefathers fought, thus bravely bled, And learn to kill, as well as bury, now; Thus still they live, whilst we alive are dead; The marble tombs where our forefathers lie, Such ads they did, that Rome, and Cæfar too, Sweated with drcud of too much company; Might envy those whom once they did subdue. And all their fleeping ashes shouk for fcar, We're not their offspring: sure our heralds lye; Leít thousand ghosts thould come and shroud theo But born we know not how, az now we die;
there. Their precious blood we could not venture thus: Petitions next from every town they frame, Some Cadmus, fure, fow'd serpents' teeth for us; To be reilor'd to them from whom they came: We could not elíc by mutual fury fall,
The same ilyle all, and the same sense, does pen, Whilit Rhine and Seçuan for our armies call: Alas! they' ailow fet fornis of prayer to men. Chufe war or peace, you have a prince, you know, Oh happy we, if men would neither hear As fit for both, as we are fit for you ; Their liudied form, nor God their fudden prayer. Furious as lightning, when war's tensift can.e, They will he heard, and, in unjustest wise, But calm in peace, calm as a lambent tiame. The many-headed rout for justice cries ;
Have you forgot those happy years of late, They call for blood, which now lfcar docs cail 'That saw nought iil, but us that were ingrate; For blood again, much louder than they all. Such years, as if earth's youth returnat had been, in feriel la clamours, and confused noise, And that old serpent, Time, had cast his skin? We lost that rare, and yet unconquer'd voice; As gloriously and gently did they move,
So, when the facred Thracian lyre was drown'd As the bright fun that micafuris them above; In the Biftonian women's mixed suund, Then only in books the learn'd could misery sce, The wondering itones, that came bufore to hear, And the unkarn'd re'er heard of misery.
Forgot themselves, and turn'd his murderers there, Then listy James with as dorp quiet rugnu The fame loud fierm blew the grave mitre down; As in his heavenly throne, by death, le gein'd; It blow down that, and with it shook the crown. And, left this blufling with his life hould ceali, Ther first a state, without a church, begud; He left us Charies, the pledge of future peace; Comfort thyself, deur church! for then 'twas done. Charles, under wion, with nuch ado, no luis The fine great storm to sea great Nlary drove; Than fixteen years we endur'd cur happines; The fea could not such dangerous tempefts move: Till in a moment, in the North, we find
The fame drove Charl s inta the North, and iten A tempell conjur'd up without a wind.
Would readilicr far have driven him back again. As foon the North her kindness did repint; To fiy from noise of tumuits is no shame; First the peace-maker, and next war, fie frt. Ne'er will their armies force them to the same; Just T wec!, that row had with long peace and got | They all his castles, all his towns, invade, On which fide dwelt the English, which the He's a large prisoner in all England made! Scot,
He must not pass to Ireland's weeping fhore; Saw glitteringarns shire sadly on his face, The wounds these surgeons make niuft yield thern Whilt all th'atrighed fish fank down apace.
morc; No bloc: aid then from this dark çuare grow, He must not conquer his lewd rebeis there, It gave bluni woulds, that bled not out till now! Lest he should learn by that to do it here. Für Juve, who might have us’d his thunduring The fea they subjeđ next to their command ; power,
The fra, that crowns our kings and all tlicir lard, (hose to fall calmly in a golden shower! Thus poor they leave him, their base pride and A way we found to conquer, which ly none
scorn, Or al cur thrif' y ancestors was known;
As poor as those, now mighty men, were born :
When strait whole armies meet in Charles's right; | Here Learning and th' Arts met; as much they
So many that durit fight they know not why; (Th' Allyrian did less their justice move) From those who most the low-fould monks Would all have mufter'd in his righteous aid,
dildain, Anu t? cader'gainit your cannon would have play'd. From those she hopes the monks' dull age again. It need an so, for man desires to right
Hire Mercy waits, with sad but gentle look, Abus'd mankind, and wretches you must fight. Never, alas! had the her Charics forsook!
Werlter fint faw't, and trembled at the view; For mercy on her friends to Heaven she cries, Too well the ills of civil war she knew.
Whili Justice puils down vengeance from the skics. Twice did the flanies of old her towers invade, Oppreffion there, Rapine, and Murder, food, Twice coll'd be in vain sor her own Severn's aid, Ready, as was the field, to drink their blood : Here first therebel winds began to roar,
A thousand wronged spirits amongst them moan'd, Erake loose from the juit fetters which they bore; And thrice the ghost of mighty Strafford groan'd. Hicre mutingus waxcsabore their fhore did swell, Now fiew their cannon thick through wounded And the first storm of that dire winter fell.
air, But when the two grcat brethren once appear'd, Sent to defend, and kill, their sovereign there. And their bright heads, like Leda's oil spring, | More than he them, the bullets fear'd his head, sear'd;
And at his fcct lay innocently dead; When these sea-calming sons from Jove were They knew not what those men that fent them pied,
mcant, The winds all fled, the waves all sunk and died ! Ard acted their pretence, not their intent. How cougte great Rupert, with what rage and This was the day, this the firkt day, that thew'd ki!
Ilow much to Charles for our long peace we ow'd; Enough to have conquer'd had his cause been ill! Ey this ikill here, and spirit, we understood, Comely young man ! and yet his dreadful fight From war nought kept him but his country's good. The rebels' blood to their faint hearts does fright. In his great looks what checrful anger shone! In rain, alas! it seeks to weak defence;
Sad war, and joyful triumphs mix’ui in one. For his keen sword brings it again from thence. in the fame beans of his majestic eye, pet grieves he at the laureis thence hc borc; His own men life, his foes did death, espy. Alas, poor Prince! they'll fight with him no more; Great Rupert this, that wing great Wilmot leads, His virtue 'll be cclips'd with too much funie, White-feather'd Conquest flics o'er both this Henceforth He will not conquer, but his Name. heads. Hure with cainien blood the field did lain, They charge, as if alone they'd beat the fue, By his own facrilege, anii 's country's cursos, fluin. Whether their troops follow'd them up or no. The Grit commander did Heaven's vengeance shew, They follow close, and haite into the fight, And led the rebek' van to shades below,
As swift as strait the rebels make their flight. On the fair hills buth armies next are seen, So swift the miscreants fly, as if cach fear Th' afrighted valley sighs and sweats between; And jealousy they fram'd had met them there. Here Angels did with fair expcctance ftay, They heard war's music, and away they flew, And wih'd good things to a king as nuild as they; | The trumpets fright worse than the organs de. There Fiends with hunger waiting did alvide, Their souls, which still new bye-ways do invent, And cursed both, but spurr’d-on th' guilty side. Out at their wounded backs perversely went. Here stood Religion, her looks gently fage, Pursue no mcre; ye noble victors, fay, Aged, but much more comely for her age! Left too much conquest lose so brave a day! There Schism, old hag, tho’ sceming young, For still the battle sounds behind, and Fate appears,
Will not give all; but fets us here a rate. A: snakes by caiting skins renew their years;
Too dear a rate she sets; and we must pay Undecent rágs of several dyes she wore,
One honest man for ten such knaves as they. And in her hand torn liturgies the bore.
Streams of black, tainted blood the field bcfmear, Here Loyalty an humble cross display'd,
pure, well-colour'd drops shine here and there; And till, as Charles pass’d by, she bow'd and They fcorn to mix with floods of baser veins, pray'd.
Just as the nobler moisture oil disdains. Stdition there her crimson banner spreads, Thus fearlefs Lindsey, thus bold Aubigny, Shakes all her hands, and roars with all her heads: Amidst the corpse of slaughter'd rebels lie; Her knotty hairs were with dire serpents twist, More honourably than e'er was found, And every serpent at each other hils'd.
With troops of living traitors circled round. Here stood white Truth, and her own host does Reit, valiant souls, in peace ! ye sacred pair,
And all whose deaths attended on you there, Clad with those arms of proof, her nakedness; You're kindly welcom'd to heaven's peaceful There perjuries like cannons roar aloud,
coast, had ljes few thick, like cannons' smoky cloud, By all the reverend martyrs' noble hoft;
Your soaring souls they meet with triumph, all Not Bodley's noble work their rage would spare, Led by great Stephen their old general.
For books they know the chief malignants are. Go, -, now prefer thy flourishing state In vain they filence every age before ; Above those murder'd heroe's doleful sate;
pens of time to come will wound them more! Enjoy that life which trou durit basely save, The temple's decent wealth, and model ftate, And thought'st a faw-pit nobler than a grave, Had suffer'd; this their avarice, that their hate; Thus many fav'd themselves, and night the rest, Beggary and scorn into the church they'd bring, Night, that agrees with their dark actions best. And made God glorious, as they made the king; A dismal fhade did heaven's fad face o'erflow, O happy town, that to lov'd Charles's fight, Dark as the night sain rebels found below; In those fad times, gav'it safety and delight, No gentle stars their cheerful glories rear'd, The fate which civil war itself doth blels! Alham'd they were at what was done, and fear'd Scarce would'st thou change for peace this happiness, Leit wicked men thcir bold excuse mould franie 'Midft all the joys which Heaven allows thee here, From some strange influence, and fo vail their Think on thy lifter, and then shed a tear. shame.
What fights did this sad winter see cach day, "To Duty thus, Order and Law incline,
Her winds and storms came not fo thick as they! "They who ne'er err from one eternal line; Yet nought these far-loit rebels could recall, As just the ruin of these men they thought, Not Marlborough’s nor Cirencester's fall. As Sifera's was, 'gainst whom themselves had Yet still for peace the gentle conqueror fues; fought,
By his wrath they perish, yet his love refuse. Still they rebellions'ends remember well,
Nor yet is the plain leffon understood, Since Luciíer the great, their thining captain fell. Writ by kind Heaven in B— and H-'s blood. For this the bells they ring, and not in vain;
Chad and his church saw where their enemy lay, Well might they all ring out for thoufarids lain: And with just red new-mark'd their holy-day. for this the bonfires their glad lightness sprcad, Fond men! this blow the injur'd Crofier strook; When funeral flames might more befit their dead; Nought was more fit to perish, but thy book. For this with folemu thanks they tire their God, Such fatal vengeance did wrong'd Charlegtore And, whilst they fucl it, mock th' Almighty's rod; Mew, They proudly now abuse his justice more,
Where both begun and ended too Than his lor, mercies they abus'd before, His curs'd rebellion; where his soul's repaid l'er these the men that true religion boaft, With separation, great as that he made. The pure and noly, holy, holy, hoit!
whose fpirit mov'd o'er this mighty frame What great reward for fu much zeal is given? O'th' British ile, and out this chaos camre. Why, Heaven his thank'd them since as they the man that taught confusion's art; thark'd Heaven.
His treasons restless, and yet noiseless heart. Witness thou Brentford, fiy, thou ancient town,
His active brain like Ætna's top appear'd, How many in thy fireets fell groveling down; Where treason 's forg’d, yet no noise outward Witness the red-coats weitering in their gore,
heard. And dy'd ancw into the name they bore :
'Twas he contriv'd whate'er bold M- said, Witness their men blow'd up into the air
And all the popular noise that P- has made ; (All elements their ruilis joy'd to share);
'Twas he that taught the zealous rout to risc, In the wide air quick flames their bodies tore, And be his flaves for some feign'd liberties; Then, drown'd in waves, they're cost by waves Him for this black design, hell thought most fit; to shore:
Ah! wretched man, curs'd by too good a wit! Witness thou Thames, thou wait amaz'd to see Jf not all this your stubborn hearts can fright, Men madly run to save themselves in thee; Think on the West, think on the Cornish might; In vain, for rebels' lives thou would's not favc, The Saxon fury, to that far-stretch'd place, Aud down they funk beneath thy conquering wave. Drove the torn relics of great Brutus' race; Good, reverend Thames! the best-selov'd of all Here they of old did in long safety lie, Those noble floods that meet at Neptune's hall; Compass'd with seas, and a worse enemy; London's proud towers, which do thy head adorn, Ne'er till this time, ne'er did they meet with focs Are not thy glory now, but grief and scorn. More cruel and more barbarous than those. Thou griev'st to see the white-nam'd palace shine, Ye noble Britons, who so oft with blood Without the beams of its own lord and thine: Of Pagan hosts have dy'd old Tamar’s flood; Thy lord, which is to all as good and free,
any drop of mighty Uther still, As thou, kind flood! to thine own banks cans be. Or Uther's mightier son, your veins does fill; How does thy peaceful back disdain to bear Shew then that spirit, till all men think by you The rehels' busy pride at Weftminster!
The doubtful tales of your great Arthur true; Thou, who thyself doit without murmuring pay You ’ave shewn it, Britons, and have often donc Eternal tribute to thy prince the sea.
Things that have cheer'd the weary, setting fun. To Oxford next great Charles in triumph came, Again did Tamar your dread arms behold, Oxford, the British Muses' fecond fame.
As just and as successful as the old ; Here learning with some state and reverence looks, It kiss’d the Cornish banks, and vow'd to bring And dwells in buildings lasting as her books; his richest waves to feed th' ensuing spring; Both now eternal, but they'd ashes been,
But murmur'd sadly, and almost deny'd Had these religious Vandals once got in.
All fruitful moisture to the Devon lide.
Ye fons of war, by whose bold acts we see What meant those iron regiments which he How great a thing exalted man may be ;
brought, The world remains your debtor, that as yet That moving statues seem'd, and so they fought? Ye have not all gone forth and conquer'd it. No way for death but by disease appear’d, I knew that Fate some wonders for you meant, Cannon, and mines, and liege, they scarcely fear'd: When matchless Hopton to your coasts fe fent; Till, 'gainst all hopes, they prov'd in this fad Hopton! so wise, he needs not Fortune's aid,
fight So fortunate, his wisdom 's useless made :
Too weak to stand, and yet too flow for flight. Should his so-often-try'd companions fail,
The Furies howl'd aloud through trembling air; His spirit alone, and courage, would prevail. Th'aitonish'd snakes fell fadly from their hair : Miraculous man! how would I fing thy praise,
To Lud's proud town their hasty flight they took, Had any Muse crown'd me with half the bays The towers and temples at their entrance fhook. Conqueft hath given to thee: and next thy name In vain their loss they' attempted to disguise, Should Berkeley, Stanning, Digby, press to fame. And muttered up new troops of fruities lyes: Godolphin! thee, thee Grenville! I'd rehearse, God fought himself, nor could th’ event be less; But tears break off my verse!
Bright Conquest walks the fields in all her dress. How oft has vanquish'd Stamford backward fled; Could this white day a gift more grateful bring ? Swift as the parted fouls of those he led ! Oh yes ! it brought blefs'd Mary to the King ! How few did his huge multitudes defeat, In Keynton field they met; at once they view For moft are cyphers when the number 's great!
Their former victory, and enjoy a new; Numbers, alas! of men, that made no more Keynton, the place that Fortune did approve, Than he himself, ten thousand times told o'er. To be the noblest scene of war and love. Who hears of Stratton-fight, but must confess Through the glad vale ten thousand Cupids fled, all that he heard or read before was less;
Aná chac'd the wandering spirits of rebels dcad; Sad Germany can no such trophy boast,
Still the lewd scent of powder did they fear, For all the blood these twenty years the 'as loft. And scatter'd eastern smells through all the air. Vast was their army, and their arms were more Look, happy mount! look well! for this is she, *Than th' host of hundred-handed giants bore. That toil'd and travel'd for thy victory : Su ftrong their arms, it did almost appear Thy flourishing head to her with reverence bow; Secure, had neither arms nor men been there.
To her thou ow'st that fame which crowns thee In Hopton breaks, ir. break the Cornish powers, Few, and scarce arm’d, yet was th' advantage ours: From far-stretch'd shores they felt her spirit and What doubts could be, their outward frength to
Princcs and God at any distance fight.
This in the West; nor did the North bestow
With much of state brave Cavendish led them Death and loud tumults fill’d the place around
forth, With fruitless rage ; fall’n rebels bite the ground! As swist and fierce as tempest from the north; The arms we gain'd were wealth, bodies oth'foe, Cavendish! whom every Grace, and every Muse, All that a full-fraught victory can bestow! Kiss'd at his birth, and for their own did chuse : Yet itays not Hopion thus, but still proceeds ; So good a wit they mcant not should excel Pursues himself through all his glorious deeds; In arms; but now they fee 't, and like it well; With Hertford and the Prince he joins his fate So large is that rich empire of his heart, (The Belgian trophies on their journey wait); Well may they rest contented with a part. The Prince, who oft had check'd proud W—'s How foon he forc'd the northern clouds to fight,
And itruck confusion into form and light! And fool'd that flying conqueror's empty name :
Scarce did the Power Divine in fewer days Till by his loss that fertile monster thriv'd; A peaceful world out of a chaos raise. This ferpent cut in parts rejoin'd and liv’d:
Bradford and Leeds prop'd up their sinking fame; 1: liz'd, and would have ftung us deeper yet,
They bragg'd of hosts, and Fairfax was a nane. But that bold Grenville its whole fury met ;
Leeds, Bradford, Fairfax’ powers are strait their He fold, like Decius, his devoted breath, And left the commonwealth heir to his death. As quickly as they vote men overthrown; Hail, mighty ghoft! look from on high, and see Bootes from his wain look'd down below, How much our hands and swordremember thee! And law our victory move not half so flow. At Roundway Hea:h, our rage at thy great fall
I see the gallant Earl break through the foes; Whet all our fpirits, and made us Grenvilles all. In duft and sweat how gloriously he show's ! One thousand" horse beat all their numerous
I see him lead the pikes ; what will he do?
Defend him, Hlcaven! oh, whither will he go? Bless me! and where was then their conqueror ? Up to the cannons' mouth he leads! in vain Coward of fame, he flies in hafte away;
They speak loud death, and threaten, till they're Men, atins, and name, leaves us, the victors’ prcy.