AN ELEGIE On

  • The Meekest of Men,
  • The most glorious of Princes,
  • The most Constant of Martyrs,

CHARLES the I. &c.

[printer's or publisher's device]

Printed in the Yeare, 1649.

AN ELEGIE, &c.

Most cruell men,
CAn you a winged soules swift flight restraine,
And lure her to her widowed home againe?
Or bound the wandrings of the floating blood?
And to his purple channell charme his flood?
Can you a gasping hearts falne heat repaire,
And into breath coyne the unfashion'd ayre?
Can you unweave the Nerves, then twist their thred,
And to th'unravell'd corps re-fit the head?
Who can doe lesse then this, should feare to kill:
Best pulling down is by a Builder still.
But coole debates you can embrace no more
Then Cesars Lion, who his Teacher tore.
From meaner gore, and Subjects courser flood,
Your curious Treason thirsts your Princes blood:
And flesht in under-slaughter, boldly brings
Rais'd appetite to diet on your Kings.
No Epicure like thriving Murder's found:
Her Streame tasts foule, unlesse her Spring be crown'd.
But though who Thrones and Majestie betray,
As largest guilt, so reape the largest prey,
And sage projecting Hell her snares might feare,
But that she bids, high pay, and damnes some deare:
Yet few have levell'd at a Princes fall,
But such whose claime did for succession call:
Whose bordering title tyr'd to be kept downe,
Cast traines lesse for his ruine, then his Crowne.
[Page 2]But here the desperate Rebell strikes at sway,
Not for who shall succeed, but that none may:
Deeming the crime lesse daring, of lesse hight
To ravish Scepters, then to break them quite:
As if an ampler beame of pow'r were hurl'd
To hatch a Chaos, then create a world.
No shie concealment leads this murder in;
That were too much the Modesty of sin.
No closet-ambush, unsuspected pill,
No mingled cup, no secret drug must kill,
Successe hath rais'd them up to opner crimes,
Rolfe was an Instrument for doubtfull times.
A mock Tribunal's built, a pageant Court,
Which but for matchlesse crimes, might passe for sport,
So fraile and lawlesse; Faith hath no defence
To credit, 'tis at all but insolence.
No fond Romance, no fam'd Arcadia treats,
Of such Eutopian, frantick Judgement Seates:
At whose dire black decrees, we wondring stand,
As some pale Ghoasts dim taper, and cold hand
Did waft us through the shades, untill he brings
Where Fairie Traytors murder aery Kings:
While slumbring we invoke the mornings light,
To chase the Legend-vision from our sight.
High in this dreame, in this phantastick Bench,
Bold apparition Bradshaw doth intrench.
One whom the genuine Bar did seldome see,
Whose obscure tongue scarce boasts a seven years Fee.
Whose Lungs are all his Law, whose pleading noise,
And silence, dearer then discreeter voice.
Whose conscience weares a face for every dresse;
Religion justifies the Savages.
Faction'd, and byas'd, for who gives most faire,
Camelion through, onely not hir'd with Aire.
[Page 3]Whose insolence no presence can relaxe,
Whose carriage wounds his King worse then the Axe.
This needy Oratour, now richer drest,
And higher plac'd, is Image still at best:
Who though from hell, he his glib dictates hold,
As Satan talk't i'th' Idols tongues of old;
Yet the close drift of this bright pomp and shrine,
Is nor the Devill; nor He, but worse designe.
The Ephesian work-men great Diana made,
Not for Diana's sake, but their own trade.
Our Soveraignes sighes, the Peoples louder groane
Is not black Incense burnt to Bell alone,
But strow their Altars round, and we shall meet
An undistinguisht rapines numerous feet.
The Bloudy Rebels conscious of their slaine,
Like the first murderer, the guilty Caine.
Though just Remorse lookes nobler then offence,
Prefer continuance to penitence.
Weigh crimes 'gainst mercies, down the Balance beare,
Much with their sins, but most with their despaire.
Their own pale feares arme to this desperate thrust,
Their King can pardon, but they cannot trust.
The haughty Tygers dare the Lyons spight,
And force bold inrodes through their Soveraignes right;
But if retireing from incroaching pride,
They make their proper confines bound their tide:
A faithfull truce is struck, peace shuts in warres,
And fresh assurance springs ev'n from their jarres;
One equall desert shrowds their pastime still,
And each intrust their slumbers to one hill.
But jealous guilt, nor fence, nor safety hath:
A Rebell is a Tiger without faith.
But though stung conscience presse to be secure,
And would be wary when she can't be sure;
[Page 4]Yet oft she most encounters what she flies,
And all her ruine in her Refuge lies.
For had their Foes conspir'd, and fram'd a pit,
Whose traine, whose deepest artifice should hit:
They none so speeding, none so fleet could bring,
As what them selves have shap'd, their slaughter'd King.
By this, they naked lie to weakest eyes,
And quit their ablest guard, their long disguise;
Whose strength like mens in ambush, still hath been,
Not from their strength, but cause their strength's unseen.
Whom shall they combat now in's own defence,
And whom bring home onely by driving hence?
Whom shall they disobey to serve his will?
Whom shall their Canon court, and humbly kill?
Whose omnipresence space shall reconcile;
Be here, and yet be hence a hundred mile?
Whose doubtfull seal shall, while it is betwaine,
And burnt from phenix-cinders bud againe?
They, whose thick vowes, exalted hearts and eyes,
High as the skies, and stable as the skies;
Who know their lives are fraile, short recompence,
And cheap oblation weigh'd with conscience:
Will now no longer gorge their venomous pils,
Nor by elusions steere enlightned wils;
Nor prize the shame of finding former sin
At the sad rate of wading farther in.
But haste returnes as vigorous as mistake,
And hate the gastly dreame the more they wake:
No longer brook a Tyler or a Cade,
Those Dung-hill Tyrants whom themselves have made:
Which like dire comets mounted in the aire,
Raine plagues on earth, whose vapours plac't them there.
They find this hot impatience 'gainst the throne,
Is by its embers but to light their owne.
[Page 5]Like him, who rais'd his Gods adored head,
To make his owne blaspheme it in the stead.
Hence their Agreement, chaines and shackles throwes,
As not what we Agree, but they impose;
Gilding the peircing'st flames with specious smoake,
Glossing it our consent, which is their yoake.
Were their dark arts soft as their glistering shewes,
Did their throng'd chapplets scatter nought but Rose:
Did they a Freedome give, was ours before,
Which the Kings slaughter were but to restore,
Yet the Acceptance ought to prove ours still,
And none obtrude a blisse against our will:
'Tis not a Liberty we needs must have,
And he is only free, who may be slave.
Nay, were't our keene request, and eager cry,
It might so fall, 'twere nobler to deny;
Their bounty, us might to our ruine arme,
And better not bestow, then give to harme:
Who weapons one, who seekes himselfe to kill,
Bestowes a murder, and a Liberall Ill.
And such is theirs, and worse, for they afford
Not only meanes to kill, but prompt the Sword.
Mens phrensie bated now, and could endure
To hear of physick, though 'twere far from cure;
When cruell they break in, and crying, save,
Intombe the Nation in their Soveraignes grave.
The Heathen Brutus did at murder stay,
Who, though he durst eject, he durst not slay:
His bare deposing too, no shelter brings,
But that it fastned on the wrost of Kings:
The Publick curse had blasted all his praise,
Had his attempt been up ere Tarquins dayes.
Where shall they build their plea, who at once doe
Destroy the best of Men, and Princes too?
[Page 6]Whose rooted Thrones fair growth did lesse improve
From clear unenvied claime, then Subjects love,
Whose boundlesse worth, and rate had given Him sway,
Though His descent and title were away.
And now, since virtue vice doth best descrie,
As straight shewes straightnesse and obliquitie;
His prudent sway, her beauty best affords,
Drawn out, and shadowed by usurping Lords.
Whose early first decree so loath'd hath stood,
By framers guilt, and injur'd Straffords Blood.
Who suppled Lawes, and gag'd them to their wills,
Not to support their Rights, but strenghthen Ills.
No resolves steady, no vote tumult strong,
But ratified, or cancell'd by th' next throng:
Such floating levities their coine disgrac't,
Till cheap irreverence the mint defac't.
Whence poorly conscious of their ticklish sway,
They sweat to husband and improve their day;
Working to steer their low designes about,
Ere the next Faction shake their title out:
They lease their interest, each suffrage rent,
As the two Houses were their Tenement:
Who chaffers best, buyes mercenary throates,
Reaps plenteous harvest in the next dayes votes:
They sheare the People, bear their fleece away,
Not as their Orphan-wards, but happier prey;
Place and preferments passe their market-curse,
Not to the worthiest men, but strongest purse
Succeed by families, relations scale,
Make Patriots not our choice, but their Intail
Desert, or hold their stations with the Tide:
Ruine, or ruined, as Factions side.
Nere acting right, now suffering this alone,
Their Usurpation fell with CHARLES His Throne.
[Page 7]Who Antidote to all the ills of these,
And all their poisons strict Antipodes,
Who when his crownes foar'd highest, did ev'n then
Remember still he was a King of men,
Made their advantage compasse to his owne,
And rankt their freedome equall with his throne.
Ne'r checkt their Liberty till 't license stood,
Nor askt their goods, but for their greater good.
Who i'th'loud prejudice five Members sin,
(Which hung Reforming out, but Ruine in)
Arm'd with the Guards of unoffended State,
Like one that would not crush it, but debate:
Like Titus tamely wish'd confederates leave,
Ask (bate his Empire) and they should receive.
Which fertile showres of grace so thick exprest,
They fell too weighty on their narrowed breast:
And as the clamorous channells shallow wombe
Would force the bounteous Sea her streames resume,
And from his bankes doth soule contractions take,
And for a Chrystal flood re-payes a Lake:
So their unsound receipt his bounty slew,
Return'd in Poyson, what He shed in Dew.
Nor did a happier arme His gifts dispence,
Which private threw but vast munificence:
When hands Himselfe had rais'd would reach Him downe,
And nerves His Almes had strengthned, shake His Crown.
The Vultur's Rapine doth at Bounty stand;
Who though she gorge the prey, she spares the hand.
The Gyant Elephant obeyes for bread;
And can forgoe his rage where he is fed.
Where shall unthankfull men for place intrude?
Nor Aire nor Desert shrowds Ingratitude.
Yet as the equall Sun ore all doth tend,
Though some use light onely to see t'offend:
[Page 8]And both the barren Bramble and the Flow'r
Partake the juice o'th' undistinguisht showre:
Because the teeming Clouds descending flood
Designes the many onely, not the good:
So His impartiall bountie Blessings threw,
Nor did the Recompence, but Gift pursue.
His Temperance might an Anchorite rigour tell,
And make the Pallace Standard to the Cell.
Not that its Lawes from the thin boord proceed,
Where to abstaine is Avarice or Need;
Or that the coursenesse of the cates might please,
Like the great Conful caught a parching pease,
But from the strict chastising Plenties wings,
And the severest use of highest things.
His Table grasp'd the seas, the earth, the aire,
Yet ne'r His surfet was, nor others snare.
His Bowles massacred none, nor did inrage,
Till Subjects blood the Princes wine asswage.
No Orphans swam about his riotous cup,
Like his who kill'd, but first dranke Clytus up.
Unbatter'd Chastity his reines and law,
Firme 'gainst the lustre of all threatning thaw,
Which though it want the checks of meane restraint,
Where charge chills sin, and makes the goatish faint;
Where Continence is dread lest Vice succeed,
And trembles at the issue, not the deed:
Nay though 't seem fortify'd with plea, and they
Who sin with Him, might seeme but to obey,
At least the guilt might large allayes indure,
Since few deny where Scepters doe allure:
Or stand the vigour of a storme or rape,
Where He was King, as by descent, so shape:
For He their title had to back his owne,
Who to the goodly features give the throne.
[Page 9]Yet all was fraile to Him, and soone supprest,
Who set His Scepter first ore his owne breast:
And that His Crownes be in full square combin'd,
He made His fourth Dominion be His mind.
Not like that Romans chast, but timerous care,
Where to be chast, was not to see the faire:
Who found his breast not proofe against the flames,
But to escape, did bid remove the Dames.
But as firme-sighted Eagles range the skies,
And eye the Sun when strongest lustre flies;
So His keene manag'd view severely sees,
Not frailty to corrupt, but judge the piece.
And could i'th' dazeling round securely stay,
To blesse the Potter, not abuse the clay.
Wise Justice, such as mercy might dispence,
To spare the Men, but punish the offence.
Not to indanger Law, but temper doome,
To kill despaire, and yet make none presume.
And here to match the births of strictest wills,
Where naked vertues are but glistering ills,
He layes His ballance at the Temple gates,
The Sanctuary Shekles are His weights.
He quarters all His day with constant prayers,
No businesse shall dispence, no pleasure dares.
Limnes Copies to His Court: doth reine and hold
By Constancie the carelesse, Zeale the cold.
His intent thoughts doe their perplext decry,
His bent knees, stiffe, His fixt, the wandring eye.
Humble, the arrogant; His vigorous, dead;
His awe, irreverence; affiance, dread:
Makes all His practice dictate this alone,
They had two King's t'obey, Himselfe had one.
But Calme and Sun-shine, undistracted ease,
Yeeld but the Trophies of well-order'd peace;
[Page 10]But He was furnisht through, and had a stock,
As for Fates fawne and courtship, so their shocke.
And though some cases make the taske as great
To manage temper, as to master heate,
Though a sound prudence may deserve as well,
To wave assaults, as courage to repell;
Yet, here the generous lustre justly springs,
Lesse from the Scepter, then the Sufferings.
For as the rage of these tempestuous times
Was His Misfortune onely, not His Crimes,
('Lesse Socrates the Lightnings blame must beare,
Because it Lightned when he took the Aire:
Or 'lesse the drought lies still at th'Christians gate,
'Cause Drought and Christians were contemporate)
So His harsh draught had some ingredients mixt,
Which ne'r on Prince or Man till now were fixt.
No Agonie so temper'd, no such Cup,
Unlesse when God help'd Man to drink it up.
Where though the sufferings, rival none endure,
'Cause one so sound receiv'd so sharp a cure;
Yet we may safely give Perswasion this,
Those Jewes then these lesse knew they did amisse.
His first affliction from rude Tumults came,
From them the fuell, but elsewhere the flame.
Their trunke and boughs build the instructed pile,
But worse men light and fan the flames the while.
That waves and winds should mix united stocks
To bruise, and threaten Ships with shelves & rocks,
Provokes our wonder lesse then moves our griefe,
Because they want the sense of our reliefe.
Nay, were their rage, designe, and ship-wracks, spleene,
Yet there might cleare pretence, and plea be seene,
Since our incroachments they but pay with spight,
And doe but check usurpers of their right:
[Page 11]For words we to commerce and traffick melt,
By them is inrode and invasion felt.
But should this sea, these winds conduct their threats,
To th' awfull palace, where great Neptune sets,
Should their swell'd surge make his bent Trident grone,
And dash their foaming billowes 'gainst his Throne:
Then might they patterne us, then we might see,
That winds and waves at least are wild as we.
Nor was our phrensie, fit, our uproares, blasts,
Or cloud that outs not light, but overcasts;
But, like that fatall inauspicious day,
When all the lesse and larger birds of prey,
Conspir'd to force the Eagle from her throne,
Because her eyes were clearer then their owne:
When the vast aire seem'd to th' throng'd muster scant,
And with oppressing load the Element pant.
The injur'd Eagle girt in this distresse,
When reason nothing could, and force could lesse,
She armes her active plumes with swiftest spring,
Darts through their rankes, and saves her by her wing.
But Eagles they are well when freed from rape,
And need no reparation but th' escape:
Re-view the sun with undishonoured eye,
And build againe their towring nests as high.
But Princes scape not, though they are not slaine,
They may the wound, but cannot flie the staine.
Yet hath our mischief farther arts, and can
Distresse Him both at once, as King and Man.
Our sharp alarmes forbid his shortest stay,
He may advise for gone, but not which way.
We set His maz'd resolves at gaze, and start,
Else t'were not to drive hence, but bid Depart.
Else had our fury lessen'd of its spight,
W' had forc'd Him to a progresse, not a flight.
But like a pilot huddled up i'th' dark,
Himselfe surpris'd, and His unfurnish't bark,
[Page 12]Whom unexpected tempests doe constraine,
And from His harbour drive into the maine:
No tackle tight, no anchor weather proofe,
But waves invade below, and winds aloofe;
D [...]stract and tost, not bound for any road,
Nor can returne, nor can hold out abroad.
Such was His mixt distresse; how, what, or where,
Uncertaine all, but dangers certaine were.
By this selfe-pregnant sin improves to th'full,
Affront at London, Treason growes at Hull:
A bold repulse succeeds perplext abode,
Despis'd at home, thrives to refus'd abroad:
Place tutours Place, on Cities Cities call,
He may not here be safe, nor there at all.
When loe the spreading mischief not content
To force up breaches in one element,
Invades His Navy, doth insulting stand
O're the joynt Trophees both of Sea and Land.
To gild this rapine for the vulgar eyes,
They chase Him through all His capacities;
Shift lights and distances, untill they see
Another self in Him, which is not He.
Vex stills, and Crucibles, the furnace ply,
To sift and draine a Chymick Majesty.
At last their carefull sweats auspicious how'r,
Drops Him apart, distinguish't from His pow'r.
But the afflicted quill, whose penance lies
Through all His thorns, must stories martyr rise:
What hardy plume dares register His cares?
When forraigne close, to sow'r His home affaires;
When Ireland charitable fame untells,
Adopts the worst of ven'mous beasts; Rebells.
When Edenburge out-villain'd Carthage hath,
And Scotch more slippery proves then Punick Faith,
When they can trade their King, and beat a price
For's Bloud, to ingraine their crimson Avarice.
[Page 13]Whilst we un-king His Fame, de-throne's repute
Word our artillery, and libels shoote.
Shift His restraints, and bound him with new hedge,
Not for enlargement, but fresh pawne and pledge
To now prevailing Gaolers; snare Him with Shapes
Of neerer ills, to prompt him to escapes.
So the close practis'd foulers treacherous gin,
Already seiz'd of prey, the lost bird in:
Yet hath attendant dogs, whose disciplin'd throate,
And busie roavings aide their threatning note;
Till th' feather'd pris'ner scar'd with mixt mishap,
Un-skill'd i'th' guile of the industrious trap,
Struggles and flings with unsuccessefull coyle,
Till motion weaves inevitable toyle.
When varied bondages some beames afford,
To checker plots, dissembling some accord;
Which though smooth-phras'd rough sense doth still controule
T' un-crowne his head, or else un-king His soule.
When all of Meniall trust, whose cares expence
Hearty with long experienc'd confidence,
Pay'd diligent homage to his justest will,
Must see their desolate rankes, and courses fill
By rough unpractis'd home-spun Colonies
Of Russet Courtiers, and instructed spies,
Whose treacherous attendance, and slie drift,
Makes all their service but an Officious shrift.
When the pure Altars sacred sons must flee
His reverent approach, when single He
Must both His Priest, and Congregation stand,
Or some rash Korahs foule unhallowed hand
Corrupt His virgin gums, and raise a smoake,
Not to appease His deity, but choake.
When the revolted Cassocks plume their darts,
With crooked Sophistry's perverted arts:
To reason downe His faith with studied pow'r,
And drown His soul in that confederate show'r.
[Page 14]To heighten these, when some, whose nobler name
In His declining Banner armes their fame;
Whom yet ignoble envie bent awry,
Or Faint Devotion, cool'd to Indifferencie,
Conspir'd the Churches battery; His weights,
Took ballance from her cause, not from their hates;
He pois'd thin calumny, by ponderous good;
Her sole, and yet unconquer'd champ on stood.
When warmer onsets, like the searching ploughs,
More fertile wounds on natures yeilding browes:
Were not the scar, but tillage of his heart,
Cares thriving husbandry, and fruitfull smart,
Where what was sowne a Crosse, sprung up a sheafe,
And Vertue, Harvest, though the Furrow griefe.
His glorious owne Record gave this presage,
Which next to hallowed writ, and sacred page,
Shall bufie pious wonder, and abide
To Christian pilgrimage the second guide:
Which reconciles (till now) the eternall hates
Twixt simple piety, and fraudulent States.
Shewes how all Machiavell in Solomon lies,
And cunning makes men wilely, but not wise.
Bottomes a stable Throne, whose secure chance
Shall steady sit, or in her fall advance.
When gastly Death's astonishing Arrest
In all her terrors, and grim wardrobe drest,
From a greene Treaty nipt ere fully blowne,
And soft amusements of a restored throne,
He meets with cheerfull combat, and arm'd breath,
A vigorous Resignation, not a Death.
When His unlimited forgivenesse flies
High as His Blood's shrill voice, and towring cryes,
Not spun in scanty halfe denying prayers,
But Legacie obliging to His Heires.
THE END.

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