Olor Iscanus A Collection of some Select Poems, and Translations, Formerly written by Mr. Henry Vaughan Silurist. Published by a Friend |
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Lib. 2. Metrum 1.
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![]() | Olor Iscanus | ![]() |
Lib. 2. Metrum 1.
Fortune (when with rash hands she quite turmoilesThe state of things, and in tempestuous foiles
Comes whirling like Euripus,) beats quite down
With headlong force the highest Monarchs crown,
And in his place unto the throne doth fetch
The despis'd looks of some mechanick wretch.
So Jests at tears and miseries, is proud,
And laughs to hear her vassals grone aloud.
These are her sports, thus she her wheele doth drive
And plagues man with her blind prerogative;
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If once kickt down, she lets him rise again.
![]() | Olor Iscanus | ![]() |