m Light Christendome, and all the world to fee O Mother can you weep, and have such Peers, That dazled eyes beholding much shall wonder That nurfing Kings fhall come and lick thy duft: Then Bribes fhall ceafe, & Suits fhall not stick long m Go on brave Effex, thew whofe fon thou art, Not falfe to King, nor Countrey in thy heart, "By force expell, deftroy, and tread them down: Let Gaoles be fill'd with th' remnant of that pack, And sturdy Tyburn loaded till it crack, • bleffed. will. 7 perfons. r for. Then high Commiffions fhall fall to decay, When truth & righteousnes they thus fhall nourish And let her spoyls full pay, with Interest be, Of all the woes thou canft, let her be sped, And on her pour the vengeance threatned; Bring forth the Beast that rul'd the World with's beck, And tear his flesh, & fet your feet on's neck; And make his filthy Den fo defolate, To th' ftonishment of all that knew his state: This done with brandifh'd Swords to Turky goe, [202] No Canaanite fhall then be found i'th' Land, "In that day shall there be upon the bells of the horses, HOLINESS UNTO THE LORD; . . . and in that day there shall be no more the Canaanite in the house of the Lord of hosts.”—ZECH. xiv. 20, 21. Parliament, An Elegie upon that Honou- [203] rable and renowned Knight Sir Philip Sidney, of Zutphen, Anno, 1 5 8 6.* Hen England did enjoy her Halfion dayes, When Her noble Sidney wore the Crown of Bayes; As well an honour to our British Land, As fhe that fway'd the Scepter with her hand; * So many changes were made in this poem in the second edition, and so much of the original was omitted, that it is here given entire as it appeared in the first edition. An Elegie upon that Ho nourable and renowned Knight, Sir Philip Sidney, who was untime- By A. B. in the yeare, 1638. Hen England did injoy her Halfion dayes, Her noble Sidney wore the Crown of Bayes; Then the that sway'd the Scepter with her hand: Mars and Minerva did in one agree, Of Arms and Arts he fhould a pattern be, Of Poefie, and of mufick, he was King; His Logick from Euterpe won the Crown, More worth was his then Clio could fet down. Thalia and Melpomene fay truth, (Witnefs Arcadia penned in his youth,) Are not his tragick Comedies fo acted, Mars and Minerva did in one agree, Of Armes, and Arts, thou should'ft a patterne be. Calliope with Terpfechor did fing, Of Poefie, and of Mufick thou wert King; Thy Rhethorick it struck Polimnia dead, Thine Eloquence made Mercury wax red; Thy Logick from Euterpe won the Crown, More worth was thine, then Clio could fet down. As if your nine-fold wit had been compacted; To fhew the world, they never faw before, That this one Volumne fhould exhauft your store. I praise thee not for this, it is unfit, This was thy fhame, O miracle of wit: Yet doth thy fhame (with all) purchase renown, What doe thy vertues then? Oh, honours crown! In all records, thy Name I ever see, Put with an Epithet of dignity; Which thewes, thy worth was great, thine honour fuch, The love thy Country ought thee, was as much. |