A PANEGYRICK TO HIS EXCELLENCY, The Lord Generall MONCK.
OUr fiery Sects scorn'd your Triumphant night,
When only Bonfires lent the City light.
More proudly they like
Nero did designe
The City's flame should make the Country shine:
And all those Bells which rung in your applause
They would have melted to maintain the Cause.
Alas! How little you in Action seem,
When by their great intent we measure them?
You the Fanatick party would correct;
The rifle all rich Christians as a Sect.
To Bonfires, you their rouling Pulpits turn;
But they, instead of Tubs, would Churches burn.
How weak are you, who to advance your Cause,
Call in the firme support of Church and Lawes?
Their Independent strength boldly upbraides
The old discretion of such formall Aides.
You court the City, and the Nation too,
They bravely meant to ravish whom you woo.
Their daring Chiefs, a Warre did undertake,
Follow'd by those who still their Chiefs forsake.
By such as only would consult and sway,
But you chose those who fight and can obey.
By their advantages you gain'd the field,
And what they judg'd your weakness made them yield.
As in destructive Warre, so you no lesse,
Transc
[...]nd them in the growing Arts of Peace.
You can converse, and in a dialect
Where no strange dresse makes us the truth suspect;
Where plainnesse gracefull is, and free from blame,
As truths fair Nakednesse is free from shame.
They write the style of spirits, you of men;
Yet are their Swords lesse powerfull then your Pen.
Auspicious Leader! None shall equall thee,
Who mak'st our Nation and our Language free.
The first they fetter, not with publick Lawes,
But with their Wills, peculiar as their Cause.
Our Language with such Scripture-phrase restrain,
As makes the borrow'd holinesse profane.
And such strange crimes attempt that whilst they lack
All precedents for Plea, they wrest and rack
The good old Prophets, till they falsly draw,
From ill translated Hebrew English Law.
How soon, how boldly, and how safely too,
Have you dispatch't what not an age could do?
Yet greater work ensues, such as will try
How farre three Realms may on your strength rely.
Nor can our Hope need Anchors where we find
A sudden Courage and delib'rate mind.
In doubtfull Battails we may trust your Sword,
And in suspected Factions take your Word.
FINIS.
London, Printed for Henry Herringman, 1659.