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Great Solomon, not circumscrib'd to Rules,
Freed from the slavish Method of the Schools;
No more than Air (that Libertine) confin'd,
And no less comprehensive was his mind;
The shining fruit of Eden was his meat,
Which without curse, or surfeit he did eat.
In Proverbs he his wisdom often shrouds:
As Phœbus sometimes wears a Cloak of Clouds.
Their knowledg wisest Nations thus convey'd,
And in such Cabinets their Jewels laid.
And these are some of Ours—, viz. Night follows Day
And purest Gold is lessen'd by Allay.

Both of the Morals are but one great truth,
Be'ng fully prov'd i'th' fortune of my Youth:
For when great Charls fell, by untimely fate,
The glorious Martyr both of Church and State;
His Sacred Blood, by basest Rebels spilt,
Besprinkled all the Nation o'er with guilt.
Some with that scarlet Sin are spread all o're:
As Plagues are known by the inflaming Sore.
Nor staies it there—like to the leprous Jew,
The infection creeps into their Houses too.
'Twill moulter them to dust! the spreading Stains
Flow (with the Seed) into their Children's Veins.

By some notorious Brand upon them show'n,
The guilt will be to future Ages known.
More than from Sin, none from the guilt is free'd;
On ev'ry head the Crimson show'r does bleed.
This Scottish Mist wets all of us to th' skin;
Some are so rain'd on they are dous'd within.
A blessed shelter yet my Youth does bring:
Rains seldom fall, or gently in the Spring.
Yet from some share of guilt, I can relieve
My self no more, than from the crime of Eve,
But like Orig'nal Sin, It less appears;
Long since baptiz'd, and washt away with tears.
My inn'cent youth, like to the springing Day,
Disperses all despairing shades away.

The first part of the Proverb's so far right.
But now, alas, I am o'rwhelm'd with night!
Thus in a harmless state of youth I stood;
I did no harm, but, ah! I did no good.
My influence, like to Winter Suns, did show;
They scortch not, but yet nothing make to grow.
To th' Solstice of my strength I may arrive,
And th' operations of my Soul will thrive.
If I to

Brutus slew the Tyrant;

Brutus's glory may not come;
I dare, with

Curtius to expiate Romes guilt, leapt into a Gulph.

Curtius, tempt a noble doom;
And plunge into the Gulph to rescue Rome.
Cæsar's return we faithfully must wait,
That time shall come, I prophecy the fate
The Prince of Judah shall return with praise,
Our Temples found, and sacred Altars raise.
No more, till then, my mournful Muse shall sing,
Her Harp untun'd shall on the Willows hing;

Unless it be to sound some doleful Airs;
To which I'l tune my Sighs, and teach my tears
A mournful cadence; until th' art be found,
To form such Waterworks into a Sound.
Ne'r juster cause! to see the Rabble run,
Like steams from Dunghils rais'd, to hide the Sun.
To see rank Poyson work in every part,
Until at last its Venom seize the heart.
To see our royal Oak, (alas!) cut down,
And cleft with

Witness E. Essex, Sir Hen. Mildmay, &c.

woodden wedges of its own.
To see great Charls before his Palace lye:
Like fate had once the Sun, when crown'd on high
Arrested in his very Court, the Sky.
But that was done by no ignoble hand;
It was at Joshua's suit the Sun did stand.
But ours eclipst by hellish Vapours, stood,
And (as at th' end o'th' world) did set in Blood.
Behold a mighty Monarch there lyes dead
Without his Crown, and (ah!) without his Head!
Expiring Muses with him receive thy doom,
And dye, like Indian slaves, upon his Tomb.
It is enough thou'st thither him convey'd,
And in a Tomb of thine own framing laid.
All Monuments decay, and Marbles rot,
Compar'd to th' Quarries in Parnassus got.

Thus the great Pompey, (who the World subdu'd)
By Rome's ill fate, and Tyrant's force pursu'd,
Did to a barb'rous Nation seek for aid;
By them, to murd'ring Villains, was betray'd:
Headless expos'd on the Pelusian shore
The World's Head lay, and all defil'd with gore!

By the dear Body faithful

His Slave.

Codrus stood,
And with his flowing tears washt off the blood.
Then did interr the sacred Relicks safe;
Whose Piety is his best Epitaph.
Heroic Lucan has preserv'd his fame,
Which bears an equal date with Pompey's name;
Well known to all that World he did subdue,
Flying as far, as Pompey's Eagles flew.