I sing Impiety beyond a name:
Who stiles it any thinge, knowes not the same.
Dull, sluggish Ile! what more than lethargy
Gripes thy cold limbes soe fast, thou canst not fly,
And start from of thy center? hath Heauen's loue
Stuft thee soe full with blisse, thou can'st not moue?
If soe, oh Neptune, may she farre be throwne
By thy kind armes to a kind world vnknowne:
Lett her surviue this day, once mock her fate,
And shee's an island truely fortunate.
Lett not my suppliant breath raise a rude storme
To wrack my suite: O keepe Pitty warme
In thy cold breast, and yearely on this day
Mine eyes a tributary streame shall pay.
Dos't thou not see an exhalation
Belch'd from the sulph'ry lungs of Phlegeton?
A living comet, whose pestiferous breath
Adulterates the virgin aire? with death
It laboures: stif'led Nature's in a swound,
Ready to dropp into a chaos, round
About horror's displai'd; It doth portend,
That earth a shoure of stones to heauen shall send,
And crack the christall globe; the milkly streame
Shall in a siluer raine runne out, whose creame
Shall choake the gaping earth, wch then shall fry
In flames, & of a burning feuer dy.
That wonders may in fashion be, not rare,
A Winter's thunder with a groane shall scare,
And rouze the sleepy ashes of the dead,
Making them skip out of their dusty bed.
Those twinckling eyes of heauen, wch eu'n now shin'd,
Shall with one flash of lightning be struck blind.
The sea shall change his youthfull greene, & slide
Along the shore in a graue purple tide.
It does praesage, that a great Prince shall climbe,
And gett a starry throne before his time.
To vsher in this shoale of prodigies,
Thy infants, Aeolus, will not suffice.
Noe, noe, a giant wind, that will not spare
To tosse poore men like dust into the aire;
Justle downe mountaines: Kings courts shall be sent,
Like bandied balles, into the firmament.
Atlas shall be tript vpp, Ioue's gate shall feele
The weighty rudenes of his boysterous heele.
All this it threats, & more: Horror, that flies
To th' empyraeum of all miseries.
Most tall hyperbole's cannot descry it;
Mischeife, that scornes expression should come nigh it.
All this it only threats: the meteor ly'd;
It was exhal'd, a while it hung, & dy'd.
Heauen kickt the monster downe: downe it was throwne,
The fall of all things it praesag'd, its oune
It quite forgott: the fearfull earth gaue way,
And durst not touch it, heere it made noe stay.
At last it stopt at Pluto's gloomy porch;
He streightway lighted vpp his pitchy torch.
Now to those toiling soules it giues its light,
Wch had the happines to worke ith' night.
They banne the blaze, & curse its curtesy,
For lighting them vnto their misery.
Till now Hell was imperfect; it did need
Some rare choice torture; now 'tis Hell indeed.
Then glutt thy dire lampe with the warmest blood,
That runnes in violett pipes: none other food
It can digest, then watch the wildfire well,
Least it breake forth, & burne thy sooty cell.
UPON THE GUNPOWDER-TREASON.
Reach me a quill, pluckt from the flaming wing
Of Pluto's Mercury, that I may sing
Death to the life. My inke shall be the blood
Of Cerberus, or Alecto's viperous brood.
Vnmated malice! Oh vnpeer'd despight!
Such as the sable pinions of the night
Neuer durst hatch before: extracted see
The very quintessence of villanie:
I feare to name it; least that he, wch heares,
Should haue his soule frighted beyond the spheres.
Heauen was asham'd, to see our mother Earth
Engender with the Night, & teeme a birth
Soe foule, one minute's light had it but seene,
The fresh face of the morne had blasted beene.
Her rosy cheekes you should haue seene noe more
Dy'd in vermilion blushes, as before:
But in a vaile of clouds mufling her head
A solitary life she would haue led.
Affrighted Phoebus would haue lost his way,
Giving his wanton palfreys leaue to play
Olympick games in the' Olympian plaines,
His trembling hands loosing the golden raines.
The Queene of night gott the greene sicknes then,
Sitting soe long at ease in her darke denne,
Not daring to peepe forth, least that a stone
Should beate her headlong from her jetty throne.
Ioue's twinckling tapers, that doe light the world,
Had beene puft out, and from their stations hurl'd:
Aeol kept in his wrangling sonnes, least they
With this grand blast should haue bin blowne away.
Amazed Triton, with his shrill alarmes
Bad sporting Neptune to pluck in his armes,
And leaue embracing of the Isles, least hee
Might be an actor in this Tragedy.
Nor should wee need thy crisped waues, for wee
An Ocean could haue made t' haue drowned thee.
Torrents of salt teares from our eyes should runne,
And raise a deluge, where the flaming sunne
Should coole his fiery wheeles, & neuer sinke
Soe low to giue his thirsty stallions drinke;
Each soule in sighes had spent its dearest breath,
As glad to waite vpon their King in death.
Each winged chorister would swan-like sing
A mournfull dirge to their deceased king.
The painted meddowes would haue laught no more
For ioye of their neate coates; but would haue tore
Their shaggy locks, their flowry mantles turn'd
Into dire sable weeds, & sate, & mourn'd.
Each stone had streight a Niobe become,
And wept amaine; then rear'd a costly tombe,
T' entombe the lab'ring earth. For surely shee
Had died just in her deliuery.
But when Ioue's winged heralds this espied,
Vpp to th' Almighty thunderer they hied,
Relating this sad story. Streight way hee
The monster crusht, maugre their midwiferie.
And may such Pythons neuer liue to see
The Light's faire face, but still abortiue bee.
UPON THE GUNPOWDER-TREASON.
Grow plumpe, leane Death; his Holinesse a feast
Hath now praepar'd, & you maist be his guest.
Come grimme Destruction, & in purple gore
Dye seu'n times deeper than they were before
Thy scarlet robes: for heere you must not share
A common banquett: noe, heere's princely fare.
And least thy blood-shott eyes should lead aside
This masse of cruelty, to be thy guide
Three coleblack sisters, (whose long sutty haire,
And greisly visages doe fright the aire;
When Night beheld them, shame did almost turne
Her sable cheekes into a blushing morne,
To see some fowler than herselfe) these stand,
Each holding forth to light the aery brand,
Whose purer flames tremble to be soe nigh,
And in fell hatred burning, angry dy.
Sly, lurking treason is his bosome freind,
Whom faint, & palefac't Feare doth still attend.
These need noe invitation, onely thou
Black dismall Horror, come; make perfect now
Th' epitome of Hell: oh lett thy pinions
Be a gloomy canopy to Pluto's minions.
In this infernall Majesty close shrowd
Your selues, you Stygian states; a pitchy clowd
Shall hang the roome, & for your tapers bright,
Sulphureous flames, snatch'd from aeternall night.
But rest, affrighted Muse; thy siluer wings
May not row neerer to these dusky rings.
Cast back some amorous glances on the cates,
That heere are dressing by the hasty Fates,
Nay stopp thy clowdy eyes, it is not good,
To drowne thy selfe in this pure pearly flood.
But since they are for fire-workes, rather proue
A phenix, & in chastest flames of loue
Offer thy selfe a virgin sacrifice
To quench the rage of hellish deities.
But dares Destruction eate these candid breasts,
The Muses, & the Graces sugred neasts?
Dares hungry Death snatch of one cherry lipp?
Or thirsty Treason offer once to sippe
One dropp of this pure nectar, wch doth flow
In azure channells warme through mounts of snow?
The roses fresh, conserued from the rage,
And cruell ravishing of frosty age,
Feare is afraid to tast of: only this,
He humbly crau'd to banquett on a kisse.
Poore meagre horror streightwaies was amaz'd,
And in the stead of feeding stood, & gaz'd.
Their appetites were gone at th' uery sight;
But yet theire eyes surfett with sweet delight.
Only the Pope a stomack still could find;
But yett they were not powder'd to his mind.
Forth-with each god stept from his starry throne,
And snatch'd away the banquett; euery one
Convey'd his sweet delicious treasury
To the close closet of aeternity:
Where they will safely keepe it, from the rude,
And rugged touch of Pluto's multitude.