A Metrical History of England Or, Recollections, in Rhyme, Of some of the most prominent Features in our National Chronology, from the Landing of Julius Caesar to the Commencement of the Regency, in 1812. In Two Volumes ... By Thomas Dibdin |
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 | A Metrical History of England |  |
101
“With firmness forced, apparently serene,
“The fated Monarch meets th' afflicting scene;
“But when he views his Children's opening charms,
“Clouded in grief, and folds them in his arms—
“Paternal yearnings all his heart possess,
“His firmness stagger, and his soul oppress.”
C. Dibdin, Jun.
“The fated Monarch meets th' afflicting scene;
“But when he views his Children's opening charms,
“Clouded in grief, and folds them in his arms—
“Paternal yearnings all his heart possess,
“His firmness stagger, and his soul oppress.”
C. Dibdin, Jun.
“Murder most foul, as in the best it is,
“But this most foul, strange and unnatural.”
Shakespeare.
“But this most foul, strange and unnatural.”
Shakespeare.
“Nor agonies, nor livid death disgrace
“The sacred features of the Monarch's face;
“In the cold visage, mournfully serene,
“The same indignant majesty is seen.”
Rowe's Lucan.
“The sacred features of the Monarch's face;
“In the cold visage, mournfully serene,
“The same indignant majesty is seen.”
Rowe's Lucan.
“Le crime fait la honte et non pas l'echafaud
“Chez le peuple aux exces le passage est rapide;
“Furieux aujourd'hui, demain il est timide;
“Un rien le rend cruel, un rien peut le toucher,
“Il dresse tour-a-tour l'Autel & le Bucher;
“Et ne suivant jamais que les loix de caprice
“Son idol est toujours au bord du precipice.”
Le Vicomte D---.
“Chez le peuple aux exces le passage est rapide;
“Furieux aujourd'hui, demain il est timide;
“Un rien le rend cruel, un rien peut le toucher,
“Il dresse tour-a-tour l'Autel & le Bucher;
“Et ne suivant jamais que les loix de caprice
“Son idol est toujours au bord du precipice.”
Le Vicomte D---.
“Yet for the Royal Martyr's prayer
“(The Royal Martyr prays we know,)
“This guilty isle, oh Heaven! spare,
“Hear but his soul above, and not his blood below.”
Cowley.
“(The Royal Martyr prays we know,)
“This guilty isle, oh Heaven! spare,
“Hear but his soul above, and not his blood below.”
Cowley.
102
CHARLES THE FIRST.
While Raleigh wrote “The World” one dreary day,
He heard, beneath his prison bars, a fray;
But on enquiry, could not learn, forsooth,
Which party err'd, or which declared the truth.
The foil'd historian cast his pen aside,
“Dare I presume old tales to tell,” he cried,
“When, from what happens, almost in my sight,
“I find no clue to teach me wrong from right?”
If penetration, deep as his, could falter,
I claim excuse enough,—I'm no Sir Walter.—
Some writers of our martyr'd Charles believe
He was religious, brave; wou'd ne'er deceive:
Was affable, chaste, temp'rate, wise, nor can
You take, than theirs, a nobler view of man.
Others with pertinacity declare
Him weak, oppressive, govern'd by the fair;
Fond of prerogative, to fav'rites kind,
Yet to his people's real int'rest blind.
Haply could we with truth inspect his heart,
We might behold some weakness claim a part;
Where many a brilliant grace and virtue blend,
Observed by many foes, and many friends.
Unequal with an host, alas! to cope,
Alternate prey to flattery, fear, and hope;
The monarch's deeds should large allowance claim,
With whom too often, to a nation's shame,
Success is virtue, and misfortune, blame!
He heard, beneath his prison bars, a fray;
But on enquiry, could not learn, forsooth,
Which party err'd, or which declared the truth.
The foil'd historian cast his pen aside,
“Dare I presume old tales to tell,” he cried,
“When, from what happens, almost in my sight,
“I find no clue to teach me wrong from right?”
If penetration, deep as his, could falter,
I claim excuse enough,—I'm no Sir Walter.—
Some writers of our martyr'd Charles believe
He was religious, brave; wou'd ne'er deceive:
Was affable, chaste, temp'rate, wise, nor can
You take, than theirs, a nobler view of man.
Others with pertinacity declare
Him weak, oppressive, govern'd by the fair;
103
Yet to his people's real int'rest blind.
Haply could we with truth inspect his heart,
We might behold some weakness claim a part;
Where many a brilliant grace and virtue blend,
Observed by many foes, and many friends.
Unequal with an host, alas! to cope,
Alternate prey to flattery, fear, and hope;
The monarch's deeds should large allowance claim,
With whom too often, to a nation's shame,
Success is virtue, and misfortune, blame!
The outset of the hapless monarch's reign,
Was mark'd by war (bequeathed by James) with Spain;
When Buckingham, our blood-stain'd records tell,
By gloomy Felton's savage dagger fell.
The northern presbytery, near and far,
Cry “havock! and let slip the dogs of war;”
And “league and covenant,” those terms of peace,
Engender troubles, not for years to cease.
Oh! for the force of Butler's biting pen,
To stygmatize false zeal and hot brain'd men!
The King takes arms,—the leaguers in a trice,
Ask peace,—'tis violate,—and granted twice;
One party roundly swear 'twas Charles who broke it,
While cavaliers affirm the Scots provoke it.
Was mark'd by war (bequeathed by James) with Spain;
When Buckingham, our blood-stain'd records tell,
By gloomy Felton's savage dagger fell.
The northern presbytery, near and far,
Cry “havock! and let slip the dogs of war;”
And “league and covenant,” those terms of peace,
Engender troubles, not for years to cease.
Oh! for the force of Butler's biting pen,
To stygmatize false zeal and hot brain'd men!
104
Ask peace,—'tis violate,—and granted twice;
One party roundly swear 'twas Charles who broke it,
While cavaliers affirm the Scots provoke it.
The English Parliament themselves proclaim
Perpetual, and the royal acts disclaim;
Degrade the King's best friends, his mandates mock,
And sentence Laud and Strafford to the block.
Various the fatal contests that took place,
Betwixt descendants of one British race;
Children and father variously essay
The doubtful issue of each hard-fought day;
Tadcaster, Edgehill, Gisbro', Braddock down,
The blood imbibe shed 'gainst and for the crown;
Newberry, Chaldgrave, Saltheath, Stratton plain,
Allesford and Rounday, Lansdown still remain
Graves of the conquering and conquer'd slain.
Crop'dey, and Langport, each a blood-stain'd field,
Decided not which cause was doom'd to yield;
But Marston Moor and Rupert's foil and flight,
Proved mournful preludes to the fatal fight.
Of Naseby,—Naseby! thy thrice “blasted heath,”
Betray'd a monarch to a traitor's death!
Perpetual, and the royal acts disclaim;
Degrade the King's best friends, his mandates mock,
And sentence Laud and Strafford to the block.
Various the fatal contests that took place,
Betwixt descendants of one British race;
Children and father variously essay
The doubtful issue of each hard-fought day;
Tadcaster, Edgehill, Gisbro', Braddock down,
The blood imbibe shed 'gainst and for the crown;
Newberry, Chaldgrave, Saltheath, Stratton plain,
Allesford and Rounday, Lansdown still remain
Graves of the conquering and conquer'd slain.
105
Decided not which cause was doom'd to yield;
But Marston Moor and Rupert's foil and flight,
Proved mournful preludes to the fatal fight.
Of Naseby,—Naseby! thy thrice “blasted heath,”
Betray'd a monarch to a traitor's death!
Few are the lines that may the sequel tell,
How tried, insulted, sold, the sov'reign fell;
How, to each judge debas'd, with honest pride,
Th' exalted King all legal pow'r denied.
How tried, insulted, sold, the sov'reign fell;
How, to each judge debas'd, with honest pride,
Th' exalted King all legal pow'r denied.
And when the murderer, trembling at his task,
Brandish'd the axe, yet shrank behind his mask:
The King superior to the guilty race,
(While radiant majesty illum'd his face,)
With thoughts on kingdoms everlasting placed,
Left this, for ever by his fall disgraced!
Brandish'd the axe, yet shrank behind his mask:
The King superior to the guilty race,
(While radiant majesty illum'd his face,)
With thoughts on kingdoms everlasting placed,
Left this, for ever by his fall disgraced!
Nor Juxon be thy pious worth unsung,
(Howe'er unworthily the lyre be strung,)
Thy dying master's woes who dared to sooth,
And death's sharp avenue to mercy smooth.
(Howe'er unworthily the lyre be strung,)
Thy dying master's woes who dared to sooth,
And death's sharp avenue to mercy smooth.
106
So, in our days, when Gallia's father fell;
If future times should credit what we tell,
That priest will meet due praise, whose holy care,
Led him unaw'd by parricide Santerre,
To say, or e're the fatal blow was given,
“Son of St Louis! you ascend to Heaven!!!”
If future times should credit what we tell,
That priest will meet due praise, whose holy care,
Led him unaw'd by parricide Santerre,
To say, or e're the fatal blow was given,
“Son of St Louis! you ascend to Heaven!!!”
As music is to poetry a kin,
(Sisters, the sons of erudition say,)
We may, perchance, presume, “withouten sin,”
Here to insert, what hath “proclaymed bin,”
Of martial music in King Charles's days.
A subject all, I ween,
Have interest in,
Who know how oft our lads have play'd their parts,
To tunes that rous'd their own, and quailed their foemen's hearts.
(Sisters, the sons of erudition say,)
We may, perchance, presume, “withouten sin,”
Here to insert, what hath “proclaymed bin,”
Of martial music in King Charles's days.
A subject all, I ween,
Have interest in,
Who know how oft our lads have play'd their parts,
To tunes that rous'd their own, and quailed their foemen's hearts.
He wrote, also, and his works, after his death, published in a volume, intitled “Reliquiæ Sacræ Carolinæ; or, the Works of that great Monarch and glorious Martyr, King Charles I. both civil and sacred.” After the Restoration, his famous Εικων Βασιλικη was published, which went through forty-seven impressions, including 48,000 copies; “the greatest run,” says Burnet, “that any book has had in our age.” Catalogue of Royal Authors; Harris's Life of Charles I.; Burnet's History of his own Times.
| A Metrical History of England | |