No More Learning

Hence some small dike-grave, unperceived, in-
vades
The power, and grows as 'twere a king of

spades ;
But, for less envy, some joined states endures,
Who look like a commission of the sewei*s :
For these Half-anders, half wet, and half dry.
Nor bear strict service, nor pure liberty.

• 'Tis probable religion, after this.
Came next in order, which they could not miss ;
How could the Dutch but be converted, when
The Apostles were so many fishermen ?
Besides, the waters of themselves did rise.
And, as their land, so them did re-baptize.
Though Herring for their God few voices missed.
And Poor-John to have been the Evangelist,
Faith, that could never twins conceive before.
Never so fertile, spawned upon this shore
More pregnant than their Marg*ret, that laid

down
For Hans-in-Kelder of a whole Hans-Town.

Sure when religion did itself embark.
And from the east would westward. steer its urk,



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174 THE POEMS

It Struck, and splitting on this unknown ground,
Each one thence pilhiged the first piece he

found :
Hence Amsterdam, Turk-Christian-Pagan-Jew,
Staple of sects, and mint of schism grew.
That bank of conscience, where not one so

strange
Opinion but finds credit, and exchange.
In vain for Catholics ourselves we bear ;
The universal church is only there.
Nor can civility there want for tillage,
Where wisely for their court they chose a

village :
How fit a title clothes their governors.
Themselves the hogs, as all their subjects boors I

Let it suffice to give their countiy fame,
That it had one Civilis called by name.
Some fifteen hundred and more years ago,
But surely never any that was so.

See but their mermaids, with their tails of fish,
Reeking at church over the chafing-dish !
A vestal turf, enshrined in earthen ware.
Fumes through the loopholes of a wooden

square ;
Each to the temple with these altars tend.
But still does place it at her western end.
While the fat steam of female sacrifice
Fills the priest's nostrils, and puts out his eyes.



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OF MARYBLL. 175

Or what a spectacle the skipper gross,
A water Hercules, butter Coloss,
Tunned up with all their several towns of beer ;
When, staggering upon some land, snick and

sneer,
The J try, like statuaries, if they can.
Cut out each other's Athos to a man.
And carve in their large bodies, where they

please,
The arms of the United Provinces.
But when such amity at home is showed.
What then are their confederacies abroad ?
Let this one courtesy witness all the rest,
When their whole navy they together pressed,
Not Christian captives to redeem from bands.
Or intercept the western golden sands,
No, but all ancient rights and leagues must fail.
Rather than to the English strike their sail ;
To whom their weather-beaten province owes
Itself, when, as some greater vessel tows
A cock-boat, tossed with the same wind and fate,
We buoyed so often up their sinking state.
Was this^i^ belli et pctcisf Could this be
Cause why their burgomaster of the sea.
Rammed with gunpowder, flaming with brand

wine
Should raging hold his linstock to the mine?
While, with feigned treaties, they invade by

stealth
Our i>ore new-circumcised commonwealth.



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176 THE POEMS

Yet of his vain attempt no more be sees.
Than of case-butter shot, and bullet cheese ;
And the torn navy staggered with him home.
While the sea laughed itself into a foam ;
'Tis true, since that (as fortune kindly sports)
A wholesome danger drove us to our ports,
While half their banished keels the tempest

tossed,
Half bound at home in prison to the frost ;
That ours, meantime, at leisure might careen,
In a calm winter, under skies serene,
As the obsequious air and waters rest,
'Till the dear Halcyon hatch out all its nest
The commonwealth doth by its losses grow,
And, like its own seas, only ebbs to flow ;
Besides, that very agitation laves.
And purges out the corruptible waves.

And now again our armed Bucentore
Doth yearly their sea-nuptials restore ;
And now the Hydra of seven provinces
Is strangled by our infant Hercules.
Their tortoise wants its vainly stretched neck,
Their navy, all our conquest, or our wreck,
Or, what is left, their Carthage overcome,
Would render fain unto our better Rome ;
Unless our senate, lest their youth disuse
The war, (but who would ? ) peace, if begged refuse.
For now of nothing may our state despair.
Darling of heaven, and of men the care.



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OP MARVELL. 177

Provided that they be, what they have been,
Watchful abroad, and honest still within ;
For while our Neptune doth a trident shake,
Steeled with those piercing heads, Dean, Monk,

and Blake,
And while Jove governs in the highest sphere.
Vainly in hell let Pluto domineer.



12



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178 THE POEMS



FLECNO, AN ENGLISH PKIEST AT ROME.

Obliged by freqaent visits of this maiiy
Whom as priest, poet, and musician,
I for some branch of Melchisedek took,
(Though he derives himself from my Lord

Brooke)
I sought his lodging which is at the sign
Of the sad Pelican, — subject divine
For poetry ; — there, three stair-cases high.
Which signifies his triple property,
I found at last a chamber, as 'twas said.
But seemed a coffin set on the stair's head ;
Not higher than seven, nor larger than three feet,
There neither was or ceiling, or a sheet,
Save that the ingenious door did, as you come.
Turn in, and show to wainscot half the room :
Yet of his state no man could have complained,
There being no bed where he entertained ;
And though within one cell so narrow pent,
He*d . stanzas for a whole apartiment



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OP MARVELL. 179

Straight without farther information,
In hideous verse, he in a dismal tone,
Begins to exorcise, as if I were
Possessed, — and sure the devil brought me

there.
But I, who now imagined myself brought
To my last trial, in a serious thought
Calmed the disorders of my youthful breast,
And to my martyrdom prepared rest.
Only this frail ambition did remain,
The last distemper of the sober brain,
That there had been some present to assure
The future ages how I did endure,
Arid how I, silent, turned my burning ear
Towards the verse, and when that could not

hear.
Held him the other and unchanged yet.
Asked him for more and prayed him to repeat,
Till the tyrant, weary to pei^secute,
Left off, and tried to allure me with his lute.

Now as two instruments to the same key
Being tuned by art, if the one touched be.
The other opposite as soon replies,
Moved by the air and hidden sympathies,
So while he with his gouty finger:? crawls
Over the lute, his murmuring belly calls,
Whose hungry guts, to the same straitness

twined,
In echo to the trembling strings repined.



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180 THE POEMS

I that perceived now what his music meant,
Asked civilly, if he had eat his Lent ?
lie answered yes ; with such, and such a one,
For he has this of generous, that alone
He never feeds, save only when he tries
With gristly tongue to dart the passing flies.
I asked if he eat flesh, and he, that was
So hungry, that though ready to say mass,
Would break his fast before, said he was sick.
And the ordinance was only politic.
Nor was I longer to invite him scant,
Happy at once to make him Protestant
And silent. Nothing now dinner stayed.
But till he had himself a body made,
I mean till he were dressed ; for else so thin
He stands, as if he only fed had been
With consecmted wafers, and the host
Hath sure more flesh and blood than he can boast.
This basso-relievo of a man.
Who, as a camel tall, yet easily can
The needle's eye thread without any stitch,
(His only impossible is to be rich,)
Lest his too subtle body, growing rare,
Should leave his soul to wander in tlie air,
He therefore circumscribes himself in rliymes.
And swaddled in's own papers sewn times,
Wears a close jacket of poetic buff.
With which he doth his third dirnonsiun stuff.
Thus armed underneath, he over ail
Does make a primitive Sotana fail.



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OP MARVELL. 181

And above that yet casts an antique cloak,
Worn at the first council of Antioch,
Which by the Jews long hid, and disesteemed,
He heard of by tradition, and redeemed.
But were he not in this black habit decked,
This half transparent man would soon reflect
Each colour that he past by, and be seen.
As the chameleon, yellow, blue, or green.

He dressed, and ready to disfumish now
His chamber, whose compactness did allow
No empty place for complimenting doubt,
But who came last is forced first to go out ;
I meet one on the stairs who made me stand,
Stopping the passage, and did him demand ;
I answered, " he is here. Sir, but you see
You cannot pass to him but thorough me. '*
He thought himself affronted, and replied,
" I, whom the palace never has denied.
Will make the way here;" I said, "Sir,

you'll do
Me a great favour, for I seek to go. "
He, gathering fury, still made sign to draw.
But himself closed in a scabbard saw
As narrow as his sword's ; and I that was
Delighted, said, " there can no body pass
Except by penetration hither where
To make a crowd, nor can three persons here
Consist but in one substance. " Then, to fit
Our peace, the priest said 1 too had some wit ;



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182 THK POEMS

To prov% I said, ** the place doth us inrite.
By its own nairowDess, Sir, to unite. **
He atked me pardon ; and to make me waj
Went down, as I him foUowed to obey.
Bat the propitiatory priest had straight
Obliged OS, when below, to celebrate
Together oor atonement ; so increased
Betwixt OS two, the dinner to a feast.

Let it soffice that we could eat in peace,
And that both poems did, and quarrel cease
During the table, though my new made friend
Did, as he threatened, ere 'twere long intend
To be both witty and valiant ; I loath.
Said 'twas too late, he was already both.

But now, alas I my first tormentor came,
Who, satisfied with eating, but not tame,
Turns to recite : though judges most severe,
After the assizes' dinner, mild appear,
And on full stomach do condemn hut few.
Yet he more strict my sentence dotli renew,
And draws out of the black box of his breast
Ten quire of paper, in which he was dressed.
Yet that which was a greater cruelty,
Than Nero's poem, he calls charity :
And so the Pelican, at his door hung,
Picks out the tender bosom to its* young.

Of all his poems there he stain Is ungirt,
Save only two foul copies for his shirt ;



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OF MARVELL. 183

Yet these he promises as soon as clean :
But how I loathed to see my neighbour glean
Those papers, which he peeled from within
Like white flakes rising from a leper's skin !
More odious than those rags which the French

youth
At ordinaries after dinner show'th,
When they compare their chancres and poulains !
Yet he flrst kissed them, and after takes pains
To read, and then, because he understood
Not one word, thought and swore that they were

good.
But all his praises could not now appease
The proroked author, whom it did displease
To hear his verses, by so just a curse,
That were ill made, condemned to be read worse :
And how (impossible ! ) he made yet more
Absurdities in them than were before ;
For his untuned voice did fall or raise
As a deaf man upon a viol plays,
Making the half-points and the periods run
Confuseder than the atoms in the sun.
Thereat the poet swelled with anger full.
And roared out like Perillus in*s own bull ;
Sir, you read false. That any one, but you,
Should know the contrary. Whereat, I now
Made mediator in my room^ said why ?
To say that you read false^ Sir, is no lie.
Thereat the waxen youth relented straight.
But saw with sad despair that 'twas too late ;



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184 THE POEMS

For the disdainful poet was retired
Home, his most furious satire to have fired
Against the rebel, who, at tit is struck dead,
Wept bitterly as disinherited.
Who would commend his mistress now ? O who
Praise him ? both difficult indeed to do
With truth. I counselled him to go in time.
Ere the fierce poet's anger turned to rhyme.

He hasted ; and I, finding myself free.
As one 'scaped strangely from captivity,
Have made the chance be painted ; and go now
To hang it in Saint Peter's for a vow*



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OF MARVELL. 185



TOM MAY'S DEATH.

As one put drunk into the packet-boat,

Tom Mat was hurried hence, and did not

know't ;
But was amazed on the Elysian side,
And, with an eye uncertain gazing wide,
Could not determine in what place he was,
(For whence, in Steven's alley, trees or

grass? )
Nor where the Pofie's-Head, nor the Mitre lay,
Signs by which still he found and lost his way
At last, while doubtfully he all compares.
He saw near hand, as he imagined, Abes.
Such did he seem for corpulence and port.
But 'twas a man much of another sort ;
'Twas Ben, that in the dusky laurel shade.
Amongst the chorus of old poets, laid.
Sounding of ancient heroes, such as were
The subject's safety, and the rebel's fear,
And how a double-headed vulture eats
Brutus and CAi^sius, the people's cheats;



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186 THE POEMS

But, seeing Mat, he varied straight his song,
Gently to signify that he was wrong.
* Cups more than civil of Ematbian wine,
I 8ing (said he) and the Pharsalian sign,
Where the historian of the commonwealth.
In his own howels sheathed the conquering

health.
By this Mat to himself and them was come.
He found he was translated, and by whom.
Yet then with foot as stumbling as his tongue.
Pressed for his place among the learned throng ;
But Ben, who knew not either foe or friend.
Sworn enemy to all that do pretend.
Rose more than ever he was seen severe.
Shook his gray locks, and his own bays did tear
At this intrusion ; then, with laurel wand,
The awful sign of his supreme command.
At whose dread whisk Virgil himself does

quake.
And HoBACE patiently its strokes does take.
As he crowds in, he whipped him o'er the pate,
Like Pembroke at the miisque, and then did

rate:

Far from these blessed shades tread back
agen,
Most servile wit, and mercenary pen.



* AUnding to the beginning of May's tnuulation of Lu
CA2«*8 Phanalia.



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OP MARVELL. 187

Polydore, Lucan, Alan, Vandal, Gotb,
Malignant poet and historian both.
Go seek the novice statesmen, and obtrude
On them some Roman cast similitude ;
Tell them of liberty, the story's fine,
Until you all grow consuls in your wine,
Or thou, dictator of the glass, bestow
On him the Cato, this the Cickro,
Ti*ansferring old Rome hither in your talk,.
As Bethlem house did to Loretto walk.
Foul architect ! that hadst not eye to see
How ill the measures of these states agrees .
And who by Rome's example England lay.
Those but to Luc an do continue May ;
But thee, nor ignorance, nor seeming good
Misled, but malice fixed and undei'stood.
Because some one than thee more worthy wears
The sacred laurel, hence are all these tears.
Must therefore all the world be set on flame,
Because a Gazette-writer missed, his aim ?
And for a tankard-bearing muse must we,
As for the basket, Guelphs and Ghibelines be ?
When the sword glitters o'er the judge's head,
And fear has coward churchmen silenced,
Then is the poet's time, *tis then he draws,
And single fights forsaken virtue's cause.
He, when the wheel of empire whirleth back,
And though the world's disjointed axle crack,
Sings still of ancient rights and better times.
Seeks wretched good, arraigns successful crimes ;



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188 THE POBMS

But thou, base man, first prostituted hast.
Our spotless knowledge and the studies chaste,
Apostatizing from our arts and us,
To turn the chronicler to Spabtacus ;
Yet wast thou taken hence with equal fate,
Befgre thou couldst great Chablbs's death re-
late,
But what will deeper wound thy little mind,
Hast lefl surviving Dayenant still behind.
Who laughs to see in this thy death renewed.
Right Roman poverty and gratitude.
Poor poet thou, and grateful senate they.
Who thy last reckoning did so largely pay,
And with the public, gravity would come.
When thou hadst drunk thy last, to lead thee

home.
If that can be thy home where Spexseb lies,
And reverend Chauceb; but their dust does

xise
Against thee, and expels . thee from their side.
As the eagle's plumes from other birds divide :
Nor here thy shade must dwell, return, re-
turn.
Where sulphury Fulegethon does ever burn !
There Cerberus with all his jaws shall gnash,
Megj^ra thee with all her serpents lash ;
Thou, riveted unto Ixion's wheel,
Shalt break and the perpetual vulture feel !
'Tis just what torments poets e'er did feign,
Thou first historically shouldst sustain.



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OF BIARVELL. 189

Thus-, by irrevocable sentence cast,
Mat only master of these revels passed,
And straight he vanished in a cloud of pitch,
Such as unto the sabbath bears the witch.



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190 THE POEMS



OCEANA AND BRITANNIA.

Non ego sum votes, sed prisci conscius isvi.
OCEANA.

Whither, O whither, wander I forlorn,
Fatal to friends, and to my foes a scorn ?
My pregnant womb is laboring to bring forth
Thy offspring, Archon, heir to thy just worth.
Archon, O Archon, hear my groaning cries !
Lucina, help, assuage my miseries !
Saturnian spite pursues me thi-ough the earth.
No corner's left to hide my long wished birth.
Great queen of isles, yield me a safe retreat
From the crowned gods, who would my infants

eat ;
On me, O Delos, on my child-bed, smile.
My happy seed shall fix thy floating isle ;
I feel fierce pangs assault my teeming womb :
Xiucina, O Britannia, mother come !

BRITANNIA.

What doleful shrieks pierce my affrighted ear ?
Shall I ne*er rest for this lewd ravisher?



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OP MARVBLL. 191

Rapes, burnings, murders, are his royal sport,
These modish monsters haunt his peijured court.
No tumbling player so oft e'er changed his shape,
As tliis goat, fox, wolf, timorous French ape.
True Protestants, in Roman habits dressed.
With Scroggs* he baits, that rav'nous butcher's

beast;
Tresilian Jones,t that fair-faced crocodile.
Tearing their hearts, at once doth weep and

smile :
Neronian flames at London do him please,^
At Oxford plots,^ to act A^gathocles.
His plots revealed, his mirth is at an end,
And *6 fatal hour Bhall know no foe nor friend.
Last martyr's day I saw a cherub stand
Across my seas, one foot upon the land,
The other on the enthralled Gallic shore,
Proclaiming loud their time shall be no more.
This mighty power heaven's equal balance swayed,
And in one scale, crowns, crosiers, sceptres, laid ;



* Sir Williftm Scroggs was a judge, of whom Bishop Bur-
net gives this account. ** In ail the trials he set himself,
even with indecent earnestness, to get the prisoners to be
always cast"

t One of the same principles with Scroggs. He was pre-
ferred when Jeffreys was made Lord Chief Justice.

J The fire of London.

^ In the time of the plague, in the year 1665, the court
resided at Oxford, where the parliament wns then held ; at
which time were several private cabals, formed against the
Protestants.



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192 THE POEMS

In ibe other a sweet smiling babe did lie.
Circled with glories, decked with majesty.
With steady hand he poised the golden pair ;
The gilded gewgaws mounted in the air.
The ponderous babe, descending in its scale,

Leaped on my shore

! Nature triumphed, joy echoed through the eai*th,
The heavens bow down to see the blessed birth.
What's that I hear? A new bom babe's soft

cries.
And joyful mother's tender lullabies.
'Tis so ; behold, my daughter's passed all harms,
Cradling an infant in her fruitful arms ;
The very same the angelic vision showed,
In mien, in majesty, how like a god !
What a firm health does on her visage dwell !
Her sparkling eyes immortal youth foretell.
Eome, Sparta, Venice, could not all bring forth
So strong, so temperate, such lasting worth.
Marpesia, from the north with speed advance,
Thy sister's birth brings thy deliverance.
Fergusian founders this just babe exceeds,
In tlie arts of peace, and mighty martial d(3eda.
Kneel, Panopeians, to your equal queen,
Safe from the foreign sword, and barbarous

skene.
Transports of joy divert my yearning heart,
For my dear child, my soul, my better part.
Heaven shower her choicest blessings on thy womb,
Our present help, our stay in time to come !



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OF MiRTELL. 193

Thou best of daughters, mothers, matrons, say
What forced thy birth, and got this glorious day ?

OCEANA.

'Scaped the slow jaws o' the grinding pensioners,
I fell i' the trap of Rome's dire murderers ;
Twice rescued by my loyal senate's power, "
Twice I expected my babe's happy hour.
Malignant force twice checked their pious aid,
And to my foes as oft my state betrayed.
Great, full of pain, in a dark winter's night.
Threatened, pursued, I 'scaped by sudden flight.
Pale fear gave speed to my weak trembling feet.
And far I fled ere day our world could greet.
That dear loved light, which the whole globe

doth cheer,
Spurred on my flight, and ^ded to my fear ;.
Whilst black conspiracy, that child of night,
In royal purple clad, outdares the light ;
By day herself the faith's defender styles.
By night digs pits, and spreads her papal toils :
By day she to the pompous chapel goes.
By night, with York, adores Rome's idol-shows.
Witness, ye stars, and silent powers of night.
Her treacheries have forced my guiltless flight.
With the broad day my danger too drew near ;
Of help, of counsel void, how should I steer !
In pulpit damned, strumpet at court proclaimed,.
Where should I hide, where should I rest

defamed ?
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194 THE POEMS

Tortured in thought, I raised mj weeping eyes,

And sobbing voice, to the all-helping skies.

As by heaven sent, a reverend sire appears.

Charming my grief, stopping my flood of tears.

His busy circling orbs, two restless spies.

Glanced to and fro, outranging Argos' eyes ;

Like fleeting Time, on*s front one lock did grow,

From his glib tongue torrents of words did flow ;

Propose, resolve, Agrarian, forty-one,

Lycurgus, Brutus, Solon, Harrington.

He said he knew me in my swaddling bands,

Had often danced me in his careful hands.

He knew Lord Archon too, then wept, and swore,

Enshrined in me, his fame he did adore.

His name I asked ; he said, Politico,

Descended from the divine Nicolo.

My state he knew, my danger seemed to dread,

And to my safety vowed hand, heart, and head.

Grateful returns I up to heaven send.

That in distress Iiad sent me such a friend.

I asked him where I was ? Pointing he showed

Oxford's old towers, once the learned arts'

abode ;
Once great in fame, now a piratic port.
Where Romish priests, and elvish monks

resort.
He added ; near a new-built college stood.
Endowed by Plato, for the public good ;
Thither allured by learned honest men,
Plato vouchsafed once more to live njxaiii.



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OP MARVELL. 195

Securely there I might myself repose,

From ray fierce griefs, and my more cruel foes.

Tired with long flights, e'en hunted down with

fear,
The welcome news my drooping soul did cheer.
His pleasing words shortened the time and way.
And me beguiled at Plato's house to stay.
When we came in, he told me after rest,
He'd show me Plato, and's Venetian guest :
I scarce replied, with weariness oppressed ;
To my desired apartment I repaired,
Invoking sleep, and heaven's almighty guard.
My waking cares, and stabbing frights recede,
And nodding sleep dropped on my drowsy head.
At last the summons of a busy bell.
And glimmering lights did sleep's kind mists

dispel.
From bed I stole, and creeping by the wall.
Through a small chink I spied a spacious hall ;
Tapers, as thick as stai*s, did shed their light
Around the place, and made a day of night.
The curious art of some great master's hand
Adorned the room : Hyde, CliiFord, Danby, stand
In one large piece ; next them, the two Dutch

wars
In bloody colours paint our fatal jars ;
Here London flames in clouds of smoke aspire,
Done to tlie life, I'd almost cried out fire !
But living figures did my eyes divert
From these, and many more of wond'rous art.



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196 THE rOEMS

There entered in three mercenary bands :
The different captains had distinct commands.
The beggar's desperate troop did first appear,

Littleton led, proud S re had the rear.

The disguised papists under Garroway,
Talbot lieutenant, none had better pay.
Next greedy Lee led party-coloured slaves ;
Deaf fools i' the right, i* the wrong sagacious

knaves,

Brought up by M : then a nobler train,

In malice mighty, impotent in brain,

The Pope's solicitors brought into the hall,

Not guilty lay, much guilty spiritual.

I also spied behind a private screen,

Colbert and Portsmouth, York and Mazarine.

Immediately in close cabal they join,

And all applaud the glorious design.

'Gainst me, and my loved senate's free-bom

breath.
Dire threats I heard, the hall did echo death.
A curtain drawn, another scene appeared,
A tinkling bell, a mumbling priest I heard.
At elevation every knee adored
The baker's craft, infallible*s vain lord.
When Catiline with vipers did conspire
To murder Rome, and bury it in fire,
A sacramental bowl of human gore.
Each villain took, and as he drank he swore.
The cup denied, to make their plot complete.
These Catilines their conjured gods did eat.



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OP MARVELL. 197

Whilst to their breaden whimseys they did

kneel,
I crept away, and to the door did steaL
As I got out by providence, I flew
To this close wood ; too late they did pursue :
That dreadful night my childbed throes

brought on.
My cries moved your, and heaven's compassion.

BRITANNIA.

O happy day I a jubilee proclaim ;
Daughter adore the unutterable name I
With grateful heart breathe out thyself in

prayer ;
In the mean time the babe shall be my care.
There is a man, my island's hope and grace,
The chief delight, and joy, of human race,
Exposed himself to war in tender age,
To free his country from the Gallic rage ;
With all the graces blessed his riper years,
And full-blown virtue waked the tyrant's fears :
By *s sii*e rejected, but by heaven he*s called
To break my yoke, and rescue the enthralled.
This, this is he, who, with a stretched out hand,
And matchless might, shall free my groaning

land.
On earth's proud basilisks he'll justly fall,
Like Moses' rod, and prey upon them all.
He'll guide my people through the raging seas.
To holy wars, and certain victories ;



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198 THE POEMS

His spotless fame, and his immense desert,
Shall plead love's cause, and storm this virgin's

heart;
She, like JBgeria, shall his breast inspire
With justice, wisdom, and celestial fire ;
Like Numa, he her dictates shall obey.
And by her oracles the world shall sway.



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OP MARVELL. 199



BRITANNIA AND RALEIGH.

BRITANNIA.

Ah ! Raleighy when thou didst thy breath resign
To trembling James, would I had quitted mine.
Cubs didst thou call them ? Hadst thou seen

this brood
Of earls, and dukes, and princes of the blood,
No more of Scottish race thou would'st complain,
Those would be blessings in this spurious reign.
Awake, arise from thy long blessed repose,
Once more with me partake of mortal woes 1

RALEIGH.

What mighty power has forced me from my rest ?
Oh ! mighty queen, why so untimely dressed ?

BRITANNIA.

Favoured by night, concealed in this disguise,.
Whilst the lewd court in drunken slumber lies,
I stole away, and never will return,
Till England knows who did her city burn ;



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200 THE POEMS

Till cavaliers shall favourites be deemed,
And loj'al sufferers by the court esteemed ;
Till * Leigh and Galloway shall bribes nject ;

Thus O n's golden cheat I shall detect ;

Till atheist Lauderdale shall leave this land,
And Commons' votes shall cut-nose guards

disband :
Till Kate a happy mother shall become,
Till Charles loves parliaments, and James hates

Rome.

RALEIGH.

What fatal crimes make you for ever fly
Your once loved court, and martyr's progeny ?

BRITANNIA.

A colony of French possess the court ;
Pimps, priests, buffoons, in privy-chamber sport.
Such slimy monsters ne*er approached a tluone,
Since Pharaoh's days, nor so defiled a crown.
In sacred ear tyrannic arts they croak,
Pi^rvert his mind, and good intentions choke,
Tell him of golden Indias, fairy lands,
Leviathan, and absolute commands.
Tims fairy-like, they steal the king away,
And in his room a changeling Lewis lay.



* L'. 'igh and Galloway were suspected to be hrlUed by
Lor. I Danby, to side with the court.



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OP MABVELL. 201

How oft have I him to himself restored,

In 's lefl the scale, in 's right hand placed the

sword?
Taught him their use, what dangers would ensue
To them who strive to separate these two ?
The bloody Scottish chronicle read o'er,
Showed him how manj kings, in purple
Were hurled to hell, by cruel tyrant lort



1
>\e gore, >

are ? J



The other day famed Spenser I did bring,
In lofty notes Tudor's blessed race to sing ;
How Spain's proud powers her virgin arms con-
trolled,
And golden days in peaceful order rolled ;
How like ripe fruit she dropped from off her

throne.
Full of gray hairs, good deeds, and great renown.
As the Jessean hero did appease
Saul's stormy rage, and stopped his black disease.
So the learned bard, with artful song, suppressed
The swelling passion of his cankered breast.
And in his heart kind influences shed
Of country's love, by truth and justice bred.
Then to perform the cure so well begun,
To him I showed this glonous setting sun ;
How, by her people's looks pursued from far,
She mounted on a bright celestial car, .
Outshining Virgo, or the Julian star.
Whilst in truth's mirror this good scene he spied.
Entered a dame, bedecked with spotted pride.



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202 THE POEMS

Fair flower-de-luce within an azure field,
Her left hand bears the ancient Gallic shield,
By her usurped ; her right a bloody sword,
Inscribed Leviathan, our sovereign Lord ;
Her towery front a fiery meteor bears,
An exhalation bred of blood and tears ;
Around her Jove's lewd ravenous curs com-
plain.
Pale death, lust, tortures, fill her pompous

train;
She from the easy king Truth's mirror took.
And on the ground in spiteful fall it broke ;
Then frowning thus, with proud disdain she
spoke:



f



"Are thread-bare virtues ornaments for kings ?
Such poor pedantic toys teach underlings.
Do monarchs rise by virtue, or by sword ?
Who e'er grew great by keeping of his word ?
Virtue's a faint green-sickness to brave souls,
Dastards their hearts, their active heat controls.
The rival gods, monarchs of t'other world,
This mortal poison among princes hurled,
Fearing the mighty projects of the great %

Should drive them from their proud celestial I

seat, [

If not o'erawed by this new holy cheat. ^

Those pious frauds, too slight to ensnare the

brave.
Are proper arts the long-eared rout to ( us lave.



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OP MARVELL. 203

Bribe hungry priests to deify your might, ^

To teach your will's your only rule to right, V
And sound damnation to all dare deny 't. J

Thus heaven's designs 'gainst heaven you shall

turn,
And make them feel those powers they once did

scorn.
When all the gobbling interest of mankind,
By hirelings sold to you, shall be resigned.
And by impostures, God and man betrayed.
The church and state you safely may invade ;
So boundless Lewis in full glory shines,
Whilst your starved power in legal fetters pines.
Shake off those baby-bands from your strong

armSy
Henceforth be deaf to that old witch's charms ;
Taste the delicious sweets of sovereign power,
'TIS royal game whole kingdoms to deflower.
Three spotless virgins to your bed I'll bring,
A sacrifice to you, their God and king.
As these grow stale, we'll harass human kind.
Rack nature, till new pleasures you shall find,
Strong as your reign, and beauteous as

mind. "



find, I
your J



When she had spoke, a confused murmur
rose.
Of French, Scotch, Irish, all my mortal foes ;
Some English too, O shame ! disguised I spied.
Led all by the wise son-in-law of Hyde.



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204 THE POEMS

With fury drunk, like bacchanals, they roar,
Down with that common Magna Ciiarta whore !
With joint consent on helpless me they flew.
And fi*om my Charles to a base gaol me drew ;
My reverend age exposed to scorn and shame,
To pngs, bawds, whores, was made the public

game.
Frequent addresses to my Charles I send,
And my sad state did to his care commend ;
But his fair soul, transformed by that French

dame.
Had lost all sense of honour, justice, fame,
lie in *s seraglio like a spinster sits.
Besieged by whores, buffoons, and bastard

chits;
Lulled in security, rolling in lust.
Resigns his crown to angel Carwell's trust ;

Her creature O n the revenue steals ;

False F — h, knave Ang — sey misguide the

seals.
Mac-James the Irish bigots does adore.
His French and Teague command on sea and

shore.
The Scotch-scalado of our court two isles,
False Lauderdale, with ordure, all defiles.
Thus the state's nightmared by this hellish rout,
And no one left these furies to cast out.
Ah! Vindex come, and purge the poisoned

state ;
Descend, descend, ere the cure's desperate.



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OP MARVELL. 205

RALEIGH.

Once more, great queen, thy darling strive to

save,
Snatch him again from scandal and the grave ;
Present to's thoughts his long-scorned parlia-
ment,
The basis of his throne and government
In his deaf ears sound his dead father's name :
Perhaps that spell may 's erring soul reclaim :
Who knows what good effects from thence may

spring ?
Tis godlike good to save a falling king.

BRITANNIA.

Raleigh, no more, for long in vain I've tried
The Stuart from the tyrant to divide ;
As easily learned virtuosos may
With the dog's blood his gentle kind convey
Into the wolf^ and make him guardian turn
To the bleating flock, by him so lately torn :
If this imperial juice once taint )ii$ blood,
*Tis by no potent antidote withstood.
Tyrants, like lep'rous kings, for public weal
Should be immured, lest the contagion steal
Over the whole. The elect of* the Jessean

line
To this firm law their sceptre did resign ;
And shall this base tyrannic brood invade
Eternal laws, by God for mankind made?



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206 THE POEMS

To the serene Venetian state I'll go,
From her sage mouth famed principles to know ;
With her the prudence of the ancients read,
To teach my people in their steps to tread ;
By their great pattern such a state I'll frame,
Shall eternize a glorious lasting name.
Till then, my Raleigh, teach our noble youth
To love sobriety, and holy truth ;
Watch and preside over their tender age.
Lest court corruption should their souls engage ;
Teach them how arts, and arms, in thy young

days.
Employed our youth, — ^not taverns, stews, and

plays ;
Tell them the generous scorn their race does owe
To flattery, pimping, and a gaudy show ;
Teach them to scorn the Carwells, Portsmouths,

Nells,

The Clevelands, O ns, Berties, Lauderdales :

Poppasa, Tigelline, and Arteria's name.
All yield to these in lewdness, lust, and fame.
Make them admire the Talbots, Sydneys, Veres,
Drake, Cavendish, Blake, men void of slavish

fears.
True sons of glory, pillars of the state,
On whose famed deeds all tongues and writers

wait
When with fierce ardour their bright souls do

bum,
Back to my dearest country I'll return.



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OF MARVELL. 207

Tarquin's just judge, and Caesar's equal peers,
With them Til bring to dry my people's tears ;
Publicola with healing hands shall pour
Balm in their wounds, and shall their life restore ;
Greek arts, and Roman arms, in her conjoined,
Shall England raise, relieve oppressed mankind.
As Jove's great son the infested globe did free
From noxious monsters, hell-born tyranny, . .
So shall my England, in a holy war.
In triumph lead chained tyrants from afar ;
Her true Crusada shall at last pull down
The Turkish crescent, and the Persian sun.
Freed by thy labours, fortunate, blest isle,
The earth shall rest, the heaven shall on thee

smile ;
And this kind secret for reward shall give.
No poisoned tyrants on thy earth shall live.



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208 THE POEMS



INSTRUCTIONS TO A PAINTER, ABOUT
THE DUTCH WARS, 16C7.

After two sittings,* now our Lady State,
To end her picture, does the third time wait ;
But ere thou fallest to work, first, Painter, see,
Is it too slight grown or too hard for thee ?
Canst thou paint without colours ? Then 'tis right :
For so we too without a fleet can fight.
Or canst thou daub a sign -post, and that ill ?
'Twill suit our great debauch, and little skill.
Or hast thou marked how antic masters limn
The alley-roof with snuff of candle dim.
Sketching in shady smoke prodigious tools ?
'Twill serve this race of drunkards, pimps, and

fools.
But if to match our crimes thy skill presumes,
As the Indians draw our luxury in plumes.
Or if to score out our compendious fame.
With Hooke then through your microscope take

aim,

♦ See Waller's, and Denham*? , poems.



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OP MARVELL. 209

Where like the new comptroller all men laugh^
To see a tall louse brandish a white staff,
Else shall thou ofl thy guiltless pencil curse,
Stamp on thy pallet, not perhaps the worse.
The painter having so long vexed his cloth,
Of his hound's mouth to feign the raging froth,
His desperate pencil at the work did dart ;
His anger reached that rage which passed-

his art ;
Chance finished that, which art could not begin,.
And he sat smiting as his dog did grin.
So mayest thou perfect by a lucky blow,
What all thy soflest touches cannot do.

Paint then St. Alban's full of soup and gold,.
The new court's pattern, stallion of the old,
Him neither wit nor courage did exalt,
But Fortune chose him for her pleasure's salt.
Paint him with drayman's shoulders, butcher's

mien,
Membered like mule, with elephantine chin.
Well he the title of St. Alban's bore.
For never Bacon studied nature more ;
But age, allaying now that youthful heat,
Fits him in France to play at cards, and cheat;

Draw no commission, lest the court should lie.
And, disavowing treaty, ask supply.
He needs no seal but to St. James's lease.