 | Poesis Rediviva |  |
On Thomas Lord Wentworth Earl of STRAFFORD.
Say not the Army took the Kingdomes head,For Charls in Strafford a long time was dead.
33
The hand took Straffords, took his head away.
How could his head upon his shoulders stand,
Gave leave to take th' best headpiece in his Land?
None durst to knowledge Strafford dead pretend;
Wisdoms Monopoly with his head did end.
With the Wentworth; ah worth with thee was fled!
Ireland no venom, Strafford living bred,
Nor England Wolves, which could her sheep devour,
They plac'd him, would have plac'd them, in that Tower.
The silly sheep a league with wolves would make,
They ask their dogs, dogs gone, their lives they take.
Nor wanted Strafford guilt, though wanted Law;
He for his death, did his own warrant draw;
He drew the heads, took his; his case the same,
He gave himself the stab in Buckingham:
When he cry'd charge him high, should the Law fail,
The rabble that knows no Law will prevail.
Nor thrive they better his black Curtain draw,
They since have found necessity hath no Law.
May none with greatnesse surfet that succeed,
And for state physick be prescrib'd to bleed.
Whence the bloody issue, hath run twelve year,
Lord let it stop while we by faith draw near.
| Poesis Rediviva | |