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The Brazen Head.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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The Brazen Head.

What strepitantious Noise is it that sounds
From raised Banks, or from the lower Grounds?
From hollow Caverns, Labyrinths from far,
Threatning Confusions of a dreadfull War?
What dismal Cries of People in Despair,
Fill the vast Region of the troubled Air?
The Tune of Horror, or of what's as strange,
That strikes uneven like a World of Change,
With such a bold Surprize attacks my Sense,
Beyond the Power of Counsel or Defence?
But tho' blind Fortune rolls her turning Wheel
With a perpetual Motion, who can feel
This Surge of Fate, push'd on with Fire and Steel?
You precious Moments of serener Days!
When many Victories enlarg'd my Praise,
And all things ran in a most easie Stream,
Back unto me their Ocean and Supreme.
Are you all vanish'd by the sudden Fright,
And left m' encompass'd with a dismal Night?
By my own Subjects in suspicion held,
Murmurings as bad, as if they had Rebell'd?
You all controuling Powers of things above!
Who easier Dictates guide the World by Love!
Avert th'impendent Miseries, and show
Us Earthly Gods to govern here below.