Carolina :: :: University of Virginia Library

Your royal Wardrobe, wherein rests
Your Garniture in Marble Chests.
Safely lockt up, to make more gay
Your second Coronation day.
Then will those mouldy Garments shine
Like that pure stuff, which them must line.
Air'd by the influence of a Ray,
Stronger then what gives life to Day.
Which will new cloath that Beldame Night
With robes, spun of eternal light:
Will make the Sun in Cynders lye;
That Phœnix in its Nest to dye.
For it would be a needless sight,
When every object is more bright.
That shining time we once must know,
If't be allow'd to call it so,
When no degree nor space is found,
But an immortal Nunc goes round.
This thought such deep impressions makes,
My muse with awful rev'rence shakes.
Methinks I hear the Trumpet's sound;
An Earth-quake strikes the palsy'd ground.
The Marbles now discharge their trust,
And faithfully return their Dust.
Behold the quickning Attoms play,
Invited by an heavenly ray.
In close embraces dancing round,
'Till each its old position found,
Uniting then with joy, they rest;
Form'd to a Temple fitly drest
To hold the bright-descending Guest.

Who will not lose by changing place,
Convey'd into its shining Case;
As Sun-beames into Chrystal pass.
Thus animated from above,
Look how the rising Monarchs move!
With lofty meen they Earth despise;

Kings are esteem'd Gods, but dye like men.

Gods now indeed, and worthy Skies!
Attended by a fitting Train,
Which humbly at their feet had lain.
No Subject boasts a nobler state,
Than on his Prince's dust to wait.
Kings honour bring where they resort,
Making ev'n Golgotha a Court.

From Heav'n amongst the Angels came
A glitt'ring Wayter called Fame;
Breaking her Trumpet with a blast;
For what needs Fame when time is past?
Here other Heralds then appear'd,
Those Poets that were there interr'd:
'Tis fit they should some glory share,
Who did so much advance it here.

Just as all these prepar'd to fly
To the shining Rendezvous i'th' Sky;
Two Monsters from their filth did craul;
Off'ring to rise, still down they fall.
Their blood-shot eyes, with gloating shame,
Too weak to bear the heavenly flame
Of such a Presence dazling bright,
With glory crown'd and roab'd with light.
One of 'em with a glaring look,
Swelling with spite, and fury spoke.

“These are but Kings, and Cromwell, I!
“They at my Genius us'd to fly.
“Death (that great Tyrant) being dead;
“Why should we petty Monarchs dread?
“What makes us so dejected lie?
“Those vainly fear that cannot die.

“Yet die we will rather then shun
“To act what we before have done;
“Quoth damn'd remonstring

That Villain drew the Armies Remonstrance, which was the moving cause of the KING's Death.

Ireton.
“Let's charge their Troop, and both prepar'd,
Red fury from their Beacons glar'd;
Their heads the groveling serpents rear'd.

— Fame then reply'd —

“Avaunt, thou odious spawn of Night;
“Thou Beam i'th' very Eye of Light!
“Wer't not enough you did defile
(“Nay worse, profan'd) this hallow'd Soyle;
“Reducing it to so vile price,
“Like Egypt's it may turn to Lice?
“Were't not enough you did invade
“Their Throne, but you usurp their Shade?
“Pursuing them ev'n to the Tombe,
“And now dare in their Presence come?
“You ought to be (for this bold crime)
“Damn'd down to Hell before your time.

Like red-hot Iron then Cromwel glowes,
Yet nothing shin'd unless his Nose.

Of red and blew mixt was the flame;
As it from Fire and Brimstone came.
The Angel shunning further stay,
His Heavenly Banner did display;
Such power i'th' sacred Cross did dwell,
Struck with its Lightning, down they fell,
For ought I know, as deep as Hell.
Humbly the shining presence bow'd,
And Hallelujahs sung aloud.
All ravish'd with the heavenly noise.
Amaz'd I op'd my wondring Eyes.
When nothing did to them, alas! appear,
But all these Glories vanish'd into Air.