AN ELEGIE On the late FIRE And Ruines of LONDON,
By E. Settle. Oxon.
LONDON, Printed for W. Crook, in the Strand. 1667.
AN ELEGIE On the late Fire of London.
WHat weep in Verse? Yes, yes, taught by this Fire
When burnt to Mourn, but burning to admire.
Distill'd by measure? A
Poetick tear?
There's more of Chymistry then nature there.
Poets here needless are, unless the
Charm
In verse had been sufficient to disarm
The force and power of fire, if that could do it
Each Loyal Subject would have then turn'd Poet.
But since a rude confused draught fits best,
As like th' effects of fire, let me express't.
Decaying Trophies, and declining States,
And what the series of Age relates▪
Joyn'd with the Wonders of the World, and all
That we may height, or worth, or greatness call,
Like
Troy intomb'd in
Iliads, story showes
The compass of a Nutshel may inclose▪
Or like deceased Potentates of old
The narrow volume of a
Sheet may hold.
Thus
Londons Beauty, Pomp, Varieties
Their only being in a
Catalogue lies:
Preserv'd by memory maintain'd by Fame
Lives only in the story and the name.
Is Poetry a
Rage? Yes justly styl'd
But were't a
Fury too, 'twere here too mild:
Were it distracted too, A passionate
Distraction only makes it imitate.
For hark the cryes the frights and the complaints
Of
London's poor deplor'd Inhabitants.
Here an united multitude combine
Together all their
helpless succor joyn:
[Page 4]As many there distrest in an amaze
Beset with tears as sad spectatours gaze
But
Argus Eyes, joynd with
Briareus hands
Are too too weak supplies to countermand
So great a force, which like a torrent gorwes
When stopt the greater, and with unlimited measure overflowes.
The face of Heaven with an unusual veile
Is over spread, while the proud fires exhale
Innumerous Clouds of smoak, that they appear
To make themselves another
Hemispheare.
That seems to each approaching dazled sight
Both
Fire and
Smoak, both
Hell and
Heaven unite.
Some the next Church their
Sanctuary make
And that as
Common Treasury partake,
But for defence in vain their Wealth remove
When for their own their Sanctuaries prove
Too weak; in brief 'tis but a short Repreive
Surpris'd at last only a while survive,
One Merchant swears the
Elements conspire
Rescu'd from Water to be wrackt by Fire.
Finding more mercy in the rageing Waves
Whose sinking billowes but present their Graves
Which here too true he finds: His Merchandise
In a confused Chaos buried lies.
His
Arabian wealth serves but for one
Perfume:
His
Indian, Gold and Silver, reasume
Their first Original, and in the Earth,
Make that their Tomb whence they receiv'd their Birth:
Once more, dispersed in a liquid train
Both
Or and
Argent turn into a Vein.
Others who once their Honour and Estate
In the same Ballance weigh'd, by th' common fate
Like German Emp'rours youngest sons, now are,
Or like declining Kings but
Titular.
But when I weigh the general loss, I swear
If Riches ever yet had wings 'twas there.
Here are those Planets influence of late
Which in the
Fiery Trigon met, and that
Since the great Monarch
Cesar wore the Bays
But once and then in
Carolus Magnus daies:
One Planet rule a greater?
London far
Exceeds the power[?] of every weaker Star,
[Page 5]For this, to feel its loss, imparts from hence
Through the whole Kingdome its sad
Influence.
Nay threatens Heaven. At this deep Tragedy
The Sun's spectator but with half an Eye,
Whilst his diminishing and weaker Rayes
In such a fainting manner he displayes,
That what was totally then threatned here
Some part of an
Eclipse they seem to beare.
That 'twas a
Planet too, a
wandring Fire
Its swift extent and motion did require.
But if these Stars rule here, let them compleat
Their yet continued Aspect, as great
As was the former that there may ensue
As did the last a
Carolus Magnus too.
That[?]
London may arise and dayly higher
With its triumphant
Monarch may aspire.
But as for those profest Astrologers,
(Beyond our Spheare,) Heavens Privy Counsellours
Who know by
Signs the very Stars intent,
Give reason for't (above my
Element.)
As if they would foretel what's past. T' apply
Portents to a foregoing destiny
That's base: The nobler way's, search future Fate
Help build another, then foretel of that.
But hark (me thinks) I heare some say 'tis just
That
Londons Pride is humbled in the dust.
Alas thus fire and smoak have left behind
This
its one property to make men blind
Too like this
Iustice that they plead, unless
Ambition height, and Beauty Pride express.
Away dark blindness, tis the only part
Of Ignorance to censure the desert
By the event as if that fortune could,
Because that, Justice is by merit rul'd.
Nay were its guilt the high'st, who, but mad denies
Twere, thus absolv'd, too great a sacrifice?
And would not cry, quench, quench the Fire, tis time
Such
Incense more then expiates a crime?
With Arts variety, and natures pride,
And all the Ornaments ith' world beside;
Englands Metropolis once seem'd to be
A lesser World in an
Epitome.
But now from such variety is grown
So poor reduc'd to nothing, or but one,
[Page 6]And that a Spectacle of sad confusion
Whole Ages labour, but one days conclusion.
That it might be, and not absur'd, affirm'd,
A
disunited union justly term'd.
Nor doth it in this sad and desolate case
Seem only to have chang'd its state, but place
For thus transform'd so great a change hath wrought
That each Spectatour's to a
nonplus brought.
That the late fire might worthily seem thus
converted to an
Ignis fatuus;
Only that men, but this makes
Reason stray▪
And
Knowledge too to erre as well as they.
Such an amaze and horror doth surprise,
That the beholder credits not his eyes.
Tis changd, without a Metaphor, I may say
From
Terr' del' foego to Incognita.
Tis now made destitute, wast, and forlorn,
And now in more then
Ashes forc'd to mourn.
Here stands a naked Church that's now become
Its own and that an Universal Tomb
Whose Stone and Pillars are alone surviv'd
Being of all other Neighbourhood depriv'd.
As if the fury of the fire had meant
At once
Urne, Funeral and
Monument.
So that its Coat of Arms, if but the Sword
Excluded were, would properly accord
With its last State, what Herauld would not yeild
'Twere then like
London left an
Open Field?
Were I for any man to choose a Curse
Or Banishment, I could not think a worse,
Though 'twere his home (were I but to assigne him
His doom) then hither damne him and confine him.
The Fates thus in a Title we may see
Or in a
Name may write a Destiny.
Is Fate
Hereditary? Can the line
That joyneth the descent the Fortune joyn;
For
Troynovant thus Ruind from the same
Derives its Fortune, whence it took its Name
Only the milder Fates ordein by fire
This to
Revive, but
Troy for to
Expire,
The
Ship was burnt which late bore
Londons Name
As the forerunner of its Authors Flame.
Whilst Fate in
Red Character together
Decreed to write the Destines of either.
[Page 7]The like Disaster Chronicles scarce tell
But in our
Conqu'rour Williams daies befell,
When
London in like sort from Gate to Gate
Seem'd like a ruind Monument of State.
When I consider both, I dare presage
The only difference is in the Age:
Which to compleat each Loyal Subject prayes
May't likewise happen in a
Conqu'rours dayes,
Whilst our
Victorious Charles proves to our Eyes
A
Phenix may out of her Ashes rise.
An Anagram on The Citie London,
The City
London when I now behold it
In its true Anagram
Then I Condole it.
But when't revives, whose Triumph shall transcend
Turning the Anagram,
Let Ioie contend.
Postscript.
Amongst th' effects of Fire this one there is
To force a Blush, The Author fears tis his.
His
Labour too that's here
Produc'd, he fears
As an
Abortive to each sight appears
While riper Wits and each judicious Eye
Its Imperfections and Defaults descry:
Yet begs your Pardon that it
came to light
Abortive why?
Conceiv'd in an affright.
Imprimatur
R. L' Estrange▪
FINIS.