Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A81811
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Concordia rara fonorum, or A poem upon the late fight at sea, between the two great fleets of England and Holland. By I.D. Esq;
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I. D.
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1653
(1653)
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Wing D25; Thomason E689_31; ESTC R206980
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8,369
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29
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to Hell Might have seene weary sweating Charon swell In fervent labour with his mossy oares Tugging pale shadowes to th' o're-swarm'd shoares Which on the Bankes as they lamenting crept VVailing Cocytus in compassion wept Acheron flow'd with griefe and as they say Lethe her selfe will ne're forget this day The furies whin'd by Plutoes judgment cast VVho sweare their rage was farre by men surpast One coming here might tired Clotho spy How she could scarce her weary armes apply To turne the wheele and Lachesis repine VVho sware she could not threads of mortals twine So fast as they were cut you might have seene Atropos raging with remorcelesse teen And seeking each where for some greety Stone To whether Sheers whose edge was dulled growne VVith too much cutting of their fatall thread VVhose haplesse lives this gastfull Battell shed Fire now and water did not each contend But seeme their power so mutually to lend That at this time there many a one became Burnt in the Sea and drowned in the flame This one good hap to carkasses did fall Th' had fire to burn 'em at their funerall The mangled Ships not fearing to be drench'd Gladly take breaches thereby to be quench'd The industrious Pilot sitting at the stern Where in a little Card he can discern The vast uncertainty of Neptunes haunt Ruling swift Ships by powerfull Adamant Here as he sits retir'd and watchfull minds The frequent change of two and thirty winds Comes an unruly shot and him doth force To certain death change his uncertain course So he that wont stern blasts in truce to bind Could not foresee when he should loose his wind From stormes and mists of death he could not free Himselfe who wont the tempests curb but he Who bearding Neptune us'd on the Ocean float Is now controld in Charons little Boat The Master ranging up and down the Deck And wounded mortally to him doth beck His Mate who hasting to his aide in vaine Is there together with the Master slaine And at once ended with him his lives date Proving himselfe truly the Masters Mate The Trumpeter with brave reviving sound Quickning their dying hearts is feld to th' ground And as in 's mouth he still the brasse did weild His dying breath made it a dead march yeild And having lent his Trumpet so much breath In 's life it turn'd him some againe at 's death The Drummer with his nimble hand repeating His doubled blows without compassion beating His harmeles Drum which seemd with groaning cry To murmure at his Masters cruelty o th' sudden two rash bullets rudely come Tearing both skin of drummer and of Drum Drummer of life of sound the Drum 's bereft So Drum and drummer both are speechlesse left The Gunner as with nimble hast he runs To fire his seldome vaine-reporting Gunns His head a leaden winged bullet hits And his hard braine pan into peeces splits He of a thousand this alone might vaunt That of his death he was not ignorant And this true Riddle might of him abide He lived once by 's death by 's life now dy'd Here comes a Captaine with undaunted face Encouraging his Souldiers to the Chase And being about to say he brave and bold An untaught bullet rudely bids him hold And as deaths mist in his dull eyes did wander Beseeching aide he left to be Commander And hee whose voice from fainting thought to call them By 's dying groane doth fearfully appall them This Leader faithfull to his utmost breath Can onely now lead them the way to Death See how to steale the waving Flag one climbes Vp by the Cords but being espied betimes Tangled i th' ropes he is of life bereft And so is hang'd for his intended theft But the cords burnt wherein his legs were bound He gets a Pyrats death both hang'd and drown'd Some under hatches closed in despaire Mounâ— up their foes with powder into the aire Which done it seem'd a strange prodigious sight A troup of armed men to maske the light It seemed yet that they no damage meant them Who the next way up into Heaven sent them Making them flie beyond Daedalian skill In the vast aire without a winged quill Giving to them a strange unwonted death Who having aire too much yet wanted breath See see the lot of sad mortality Our chiefest helps help oft to misery Some men who came secure from future harmes Enroll'd in well-prov'd steely-cloathed armes Fall by mischance into the Seas dire hand Whence being unarm'd they might have swom to land Their armes do sinck and without mercy end them So kil'd by that which chiefly should defend them One with his Musket ready to give fire Aimes at another adverse Musketteere But his Match missing flire hee 's forc'd to dye By the others Matches true fidelity By which he dy'd can scarcely well be knowne Whether by the others Musket or his owne See there a Coward wanting heart t' abide The daunting face of the feirce adverse side Slinketh behinde the netx not caring whether Comes a mad shot and kills them both together One seeing now his side begin to faile Shewes them their Colours while himselfe looks pale Sure by this man some Omen ill was showne To keep their Colours who could loose his owne Those men who chanced in the Ship to fall The cruell Sea was made their Buriall And into th' Waves without remorse were throwne Poor men slain by their foes drown'd by their owne A Fisher-man who nigh them cut the maine Sitting in 's Boat was with a Bullet slaine And the Barque fir'd wherein he dead did fall Which gratis burnt gave him his Funeral True to thy Master kinde boat who with him Didst oft in life and now in death dost swim With him alive in water that didst tire Thy wave-beat sides dy'st now with him in fire Yet saile with him to Elysium saile the faster In Charons stead that thou maist waft thy Master Strange boat which thus we not amisse may call His life death Charon and his Funerall One fearing death doth feigne to dye and bleed And while he is in feigning dyes indeed Another fearing Swords to th' Sea doth flye And so for feare of death feares not to dye Some fall into the Ocean stain'd with goare Which from their former wounds had gush'd before Which kil'd not them as it from them was spil'd But entring into them againe they 're kil'd Here 's one about to strike his foe doth fall Into the Sea before he can recall His erring stroke striking the Sea to stay him The Ocean in revenge o th' blow doth slay him Another being about to strike his foe Looseth at once his arme and threatning blow His left arme shivering reacheth at the other But cut in twaine lies with its equall brother Both joyn'd though both divided as in spight Of death they meant to part their last good night By shaking hands the miserable trunke As loath to part fainting upon them sunke One seeing them together thus might say There a whole body all in peices lay See two with sturdy grapple striving whether Should overcome both fall i th' sea together Embracing both till they have lost their breath And seem though foes in life yet friends in death Two brothers slaine as they together stood One then might swear they were allied in blood Other two who so nigh resembling were A lov'd mistake unto the Parents deare Cruell death sever'd them and that one left Poore Parents knew of Errour now bereft He left eternall cause of griefe renewes Who still alive still his dead brother shewes And yet to them this comfort still he gives Th' one cannot dye so long as th' other lives The wounded Souldiers now that all else failes To stop their wounds do teare their wofull sailes Poore men who after they were overthrowne Had torne those wings whereby they might have flowne One with his bleeding ready to expire Thinkes with his blood to quench the Ship on fire And so in midst of flames he bleeding stands Tearing new wounds with his kind-cruell hands And griev'd to see his blood so little profit He oft addes teares to helpe the quenching of it Till at last fainting he is faine to fall Into the Sea which made his Funerall And bleeding in it from each mangled limbe He quenched it and it extinguish'd him See a poore Mar'ner both armes cut asunder Distracted leaps into the water under Meaning to swim but see the wofull wretch With how much toile he laboureth to stretch His raw-vein'd stumps which for his armes before Gush nothing now but streames of deadly goare Faine would he catch t' uphold his wavering life Some kinde remaine o' th' Ship but all his strife Doth make him sooner to be out of breath And wanting armes he yet embraceth death One getteth this by having lost his eyes In that he cannot see his miseries Anothers legs are gone that who him sees Might think he did beg pardon on his knees What refuge now is left when if they shun Th' approaching sword into the fire they run Shunning the fire they into water fall So no way wants a certaine Funerall Thus after strange unheard of sort they lye And death by many deaths makes one man dye The mangled Ships no longer can withstand Th' intruding Sea and Mars his fiery brand But sinking downward one might then have thought Them gon t' help Charon to waft ore his fraught Thus seven full houres the Sun endur'd to see Nor longer would such inhumanitie Therefore his Horses bathing in their foame With posting speed hast to their watry home Where yet a while they all amazed stood Finding instead of Sea a Sea of blood Hor. 2. od 13. Sed magis Pugnas exactos tyrannos Densum humeris bibit aure vulgus Quid mirum uhi illis carminibus stupens Demittit atras bellua centiceps Aures intorti capillis Eumenidum recreantur angues FINIS