Pocula Castalia The Authors Motto. Fortunes Tennis-Ball. Eliza. Poems. Epigrams. &c. By R. B. [i.e Robert Baron] |
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T. R. ad H. R.
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40
T. R. ad H. R.
Therevtvs to his Queen Hymetta dear
Sends the same health which he enjoyeth here.
Rebecca's Twins, love, hatred, this scroule beares,
The first is thine, the last this Messengers,
Whom we have thus employ'd, that we migh have
By this unsmelt means, Safety, he a Grave.
Sends the same health which he enjoyeth here.
Rebecca's Twins, love, hatred, this scroule beares,
The first is thine, the last this Messengers,
Whom we have thus employ'd, that we migh have
By this unsmelt means, Safety, he a Grave.
This Ulorvs is th'Ague of our Reigne,
He shakes it, as Windes stoll'n into Earths veine
Doe our dull staggering Mother. He's the ill
Conscience o'th' State, that ne'r lets it be still.
'Twas in our thoughts by just help of our Lawes
That this effect might Cease, to seize the cause.
But being such a Minion of the rude
Beast with so many heads, the Multitude;
We judg'd him not here, in their sights, to die,
Lest they mistake Justice for Tyranny
In us, and in themselves Rebellion
For Pitty; Lest our Bark of State split on
These Rocks, We've sent him to your Court, that there
His Death may be close as his Treasons here.
If of his Fate you can all eyes prevent
Wee'l father it upon some accident.
How e'r do't; if you can't stop Fames wild breath
Wee'l draw up's Posthume Processe after's Death.
He shakes it, as Windes stoll'n into Earths veine
Doe our dull staggering Mother. He's the ill
Conscience o'th' State, that ne'r lets it be still.
'Twas in our thoughts by just help of our Lawes
That this effect might Cease, to seize the cause.
But being such a Minion of the rude
Beast with so many heads, the Multitude;
We judg'd him not here, in their sights, to die,
Lest they mistake Justice for Tyranny
In us, and in themselves Rebellion
For Pitty; Lest our Bark of State split on
These Rocks, We've sent him to your Court, that there
His Death may be close as his Treasons here.
If of his Fate you can all eyes prevent
Wee'l father it upon some accident.
How e'r do't; if you can't stop Fames wild breath
Wee'l draw up's Posthume Processe after's Death.
Grieve not to nip this young weed in the bloom,
A young Wolfes Death to soon can never come.
Yet were it cruell, tis Fate is harsh not wee,
Selfe preservation warrants Crueltie.
A young Wolfes Death to soon can never come.
Yet were it cruell, tis Fate is harsh not wee,
Selfe preservation warrants Crueltie.
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