The works of Sir William Mure of Rowallan Edited with introduction, notes, and glossary by William Tough |
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 | The works of Sir William Mure of Rowallan |  |
But base the snake is, which in splean doth smite
A suffering nation with the hight of spite,
Whom (so thou silent prove) here, shall not want
In single person, Miriads, to daunt,
And make the wretch, who with disgrace dare load
Thy country, sing a shamefull Palinode.
A suffering nation with the hight of spite,
Whom (so thou silent prove) here, shall not want
In single person, Miriads, to daunt,
And make the wretch, who with disgrace dare load
Thy country, sing a shamefull Palinode.
Or, if amongst us be the monster found,
The mother's gorge that doth invade and wound,
Not sticking superciliously, to breath
Prodigious prognosticks of thy wrath,
(As if the helme of government, to guide
Were left to serve the passion and the pride
Of desperat Sycophants, the coale which blow,
Thee and the state, alike, to overthrow;
Or of these neutrall Atheists, which frequent,
Amphibion like, a doubtsome element,)
A mother's curse let to the pit pursue
This bowel-renting, base, ambiguous crew.
Be Ligature, the dog's sad destinie,
Who for our cure prescrives Phlebotomie.
The mother's gorge that doth invade and wound,
Not sticking superciliously, to breath
Prodigious prognosticks of thy wrath,
(As if the helme of government, to guide
Were left to serve the passion and the pride
Of desperat Sycophants, the coale which blow,
Thee and the state, alike, to overthrow;
Or of these neutrall Atheists, which frequent,
Amphibion like, a doubtsome element,)
A mother's curse let to the pit pursue
This bowel-renting, base, ambiguous crew.
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Who for our cure prescrives Phlebotomie.
| The works of Sir William Mure of Rowallan | |