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A40381
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Poems by Ben. Francis.
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Francis, Ben. (Benjamin)
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1660
(1660)
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Wing F2057; ESTC R37355
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14,672
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45
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POEMS BY BEN FRANCIS Vivat in aeternum REX CAROLUS SECUNDUS Quem Deus nunc in saecula saeculorum conservet oro Enter'd according to Order LONDON Printed by T. R. for the Author 1660. A Pastorall Elegie upon the Barbarous decollation of King Charles the first of ever Glorious memory written shortly after his death Palaemon Chorus of Shepherds PALAE I From the Bloodyest Barbarous Act am fled That ever was by Monsters nourished And though my feet pursue an eager flight Yet still my soul retaines that horrid sight Ah Cursed fate which me unwilling drew To that sad place this Tragedy to view CHOR. What Luckless fate what wofull accident Hath happ't that makes Palaemon to Lament What sad misfortune is 't that can possess Thy sprightly soul with so much heaviness Needs must the cause be great that moves thee now Since sorrow 's seldom seen to Cloud thy brow PALAE Ah dearest mates mirth sounds a sad retreat The day is come our Ruins are compleat Our miseries cast up in this most dread and black prodigious Totall Charles is dead CHOR. What! Charles the Great the Good the Quintessence Of all our earthly happiness from whence Our breath we draw and by whose beames we live Ah! dear Palaemon 't is a cause to grieve Horror Confounds us yet we pray thee tell By what sad Chance this best of Princes fell PALAE Should death and all Hells powers stand between And make Relation what mine eyes have seen To hear this execrable Act express't Would Conjure Terror in each furies breast This Cursed Rout this most prodigious band Of Ravenous Tigers that infest this Land Great Charls surpriz'd and dragg'd him to the Barr Where all his deadlyest foes his Judges were Peace is accus'd of Warr Meekness of Pride Mercy of blood and truth by Treason 's try'd Whose Royall soul their Arrogance Contemn'd Till Monstrous guilt pure innocence Condemn'd And sentence past of death hut O! prepare Your hearts of Steel or bid my tongue forbeare CHOR. O no speak on and let thy words redound Such Terror to our souls that may Confound Our vitall Spirits in such sort whereby We may obtaine the benefit to dye PALAE O 't was a Crime past Satans when he fell A fact no age can yeild it's parallel In deep Oblivion Mithridates sleep Nero and Tarquin with Tereus keep A harmless squeaking Cromwell and his Traine Outstrip your Rage and Tyrannyes retaine From hence he 's brought to that most wofull place Glorious of late by his Illustrious face White-hall whence he his Godlike Mandates gave And all the World his bountys did receive There whence his vertue through the earth was fam'd There there those impious hands his Scaffold fram'd There like a Lamb he 's to the Slaughter led There Hells stern brood smote off his Royall head CHOR. Was there no signe no miracle discry'd The Sun was darkened when our Saviour dy'd And could he view this Act so full of Dread And not amaz'd shrink in his frighted Head PALAE 'T was not without a signe which did contract A wonder to attend this monstrous Act Five Angels in the shapes of Fouls appear'd And from the Aire all Cloudy vapours Clear'd These hover'd o're the Fatall place and spread Their blessed wings just o're his Sacred head Eager to catch his Soul before his breath By that Dire stroke had yeilded unto death For one which late above the rest appear'd With greater evidence the same declar'd As if struck dead by these most horrid sights Stoops down and almost on the Scaffold lights Then up retreats and wings againe assumes And to her former height directs her Plumes There stayes a while and hovers in the skyes Then with his Soul they vanisht from our eyes CHOR. No more no more his fall's a greefe so high None can Lament unless a Jeremy Yet dear Palaemon we may justly turn Our greefs from him and for our selves may mourn His Blessed Soul now sits above the spheares And there most happy Tryumphs ore the Stars Whilst we in 's blood to our destruction swim 'T was us they murder'd when they struck at him PALAE Hold Hold forbear your Mourning and no more His wrongs nor your own injuryes deplore See see his Ashes move his Blood revives And there behold where Charles the Second lives Where Phaenix like he rises from his dust And Charles the great proceeds from Charles the just By whose great hand the potent Heaven decrees A just revenge for these dire Butcheryes Mean time my dear Associates come O come Let 's pay our Tribute to his Sacred Toome And Begg from Heaven a charme unto our verse That may for ever Guard his Royall Herse Rebellious Traytors Tremble come not neer Hence with your Sacrilegious feet forbear Touch not our dust we Charge ye but be gone And Rue the Act your Cursed hands have done Nay rather mourn your miserable fate Since no Repentance this can expiate But you whose breasts this horrid act doth move With sad Resentments of a Loyall Love Draw nearer and devoutly spend a teare 'T is Charles the Great the Good the Just lyes here AN ENTERLUDE Upon the sudden Extirpation of our late great Controlers Speakers Philotheus Philolethes Fleetwood Lambert Vane Lenthall Richard late Protector Mutes Berry Hewson Enter Philotheus Philolethes PHILOTH VVHat are our Glorious Plannets set so soon Has Tardy Saturn quite outstript the Moone And made a quicker Revolution farr Then Sol or Luna in our Hemisphere Is this great Fleetwood that great Lambert he These grand Corrivalls in the Soveraignty Is all their power defunct their great Commands dissolv'd and lost PHILOLE Yes see where Fleetwood stands A piteous object PHILOTH Sure it cannot be That Fleetwood sure that sniv'ling Elef's not he PHILOLE But 't is the same PHILOTH Truly if it be so His Excellency's now exceeding low He 's Courting Lenthall and for pardon sues His late absurd Transgressions to excuse PHILOLE But hear him speak FLEETWOOD Great Sir accept I pray The Soveraign power and unbounded sway With all those great Exactions and Commands We lately wrested from your sacred hands Acknowledging our errour and offence Witness these humble teares of Penitence Alas 't is true cheer'd with the late success We found perform'd with so much easiness Crying up Justice and the good old Cause How right we either meant the auncient Laws In time may judg between us PHILOTH Faith 't is true Your fate 's the same when Tyburn claimes his due FLEETWOOD In overturning puny Richards powers We by his fatall fall advanced yours And to your Pristin state did you restore Whence your Protector kick't ye out before Thus we first rais'd then Routed you and I In Imitation of his subtilty Manag'd these great affaires but he alass In greater favour with the Devil was Who him preserved in the Government Untill his soul to his Protection went When as upon the Contrary when I No sooner mounted on the Soveraignty As if my service
him I will do the deed Though he in strength or stature should exceed The great Golias here 's the man will do 't I 'le bring his neck beneath your worships foot Then here 's thy money now prepare thy hands And here behold where little Spurstow stands Hereat the valiant young man's valour 's quail'd Throws down the money lest he be assayl'd By us and beaten to a Chamber by He quits the room and there takes sanctu'ry There rests secure when he that hold had gain'd Bolted within without the key remain'd And that he might more safely there abide We lock't him in and thence with th' key did ride Neerer the Town an Inne we sought in fine We found a Reverend Host more reverend Sign Which to the view in ample distance spreads Such as imaginarily the heads Of many new-bred Nobles oft adorns And frequently in English call'd The Horns Here we alighted and resolv'd to sup There though the lodgings were before ta'ne up Much taken with our Host's boon merriment Bedless that night we rather are content To stay then enter th' clamorous town much more We 'd rest that night as we the night before Had done the night we shorten being long With wine and mirth sometimes John Dory's song Thus till the travellers for their march prepar'd We drank and sung and then their places shar'd Spurstow and I a little stay'd behind The rest afore unto a place design'd To take our parting tap-lash for our way Lay through the town where Spurstow bids me stay There at the Holy Lamb we ' lighted down Which might be styl'd the Embleme of the Town For what more proper simile may be Compar'd to painted out-side sanctity Or who more fitly can such zeal define A house of riot and a sacred Sign Here to avoyd prolixity of time Five pintes apiece of brisk Canary wine We drank to friends but chiefly he to one To me most dear although to him unknown Which made the favour double then came in The Mistress pint that drunk we did begin To think of Fletcher who by this though t 's long When lo a voyce amidst the ruder throng Call'd Spurstow Spurstow turn again come hither He wanting second thoughts turn'd and went thither Where being come a Matron grave appears One who for beauty aged Sibils years Might well example but for impudence and vicious acts with Circe might commence Then with a complement old as her self she brought A Jack with silver tipt and at a draught O're turn'd it though the Jack contain'd a quart Then gives it him here boy observe my art Now heavens protect me this upon our Wine She 'l Circe-like transform us both to Swine And Beldam for thy favour take this curse The pox confound thee or some plague that 's worse Thus parted noble Spurstow with his train Fletcher and I to Marbury march again Some business of the first day's left undone Where we remember our companions gone Past Acts recount as loth to part we fit And all that tedious night we frolick it This my fourth night and Fletchers third since we our cloaths put off or any sheets did see So in the morn appearing you might then Behold a brace of parboyl'd Gentlemen Like cattle standing at Avernus brink Even dead with thirst yet daring not to drink Now farwell dearest Fletcher let 's give over 'T is time to try can we our sense recover And what my soul to Spurstow renders due Thrice noble Fletcher must return to you And pray that heaven may ever let me see A bliss on you and your Posterity So to his wishes fortune condescend Whose life 's your servant and whose faith 's your friend BEN FRANCIS Postscript CRiticks excuse the rudeness of my stile Perchance my Muse could better Verse compile But here my Penn presumes to be as free As was our noble Gallant Company Nor say I have your tyred sense abus'd Being over tedious since 't is thus excus'd The Ramble 's long and those that did it see Confess I have affected brevity Then howsoe'r my Verse by you's approv'd Doubt not but 't is by better Wits belov'd A Recantation 1. YE false deluding Joyes Terrestriall Your fond Temptations I despise My thoughs are soaring to a Caelestiall And never fading Paradise Wherefore farewell Ye steps to Hell Your flattering paths I 'le tread no more Nor your false vanities adore 2. Base world amongst the worst I rank thee of ills that e're created were As yet I ne're had cause to thank thee Thy smiles but base delusions are Which since I scorn'd To frowns they turn'd But thus thy injuries I 'le retort Detesting to be made thy sport 3. 'T is true I doated on thy pleasures And thy alluring treachery My soul betray'd in horrid measures To honour thy impiety But now I see Thy slavery I bid farewell to all thy joyes And these my most lov'd vanities 4. Farewell my Dear my Boon Companions Farewell Eternally adue And for the favours which were many ones And loves I alwayes gain'd from you I thanks return To you and mourn The precious time we spent in vain Which now I 'le labour to regain 5. By you my company was prized And far beyond its worth esteem'd So I your joyes have Idolized And equall to the blessed deem'd But since our love Did often prove A lewd debauchery in the end I le to diviner thoughts attend 6. And you fair Virgins who resemble The brightness of the radiant skies With whom I oft did thus dissemble And heavens created in your eyes A fairer now My thoughts pursue And pure devotions duly pay To one whose splendors ne'r decay 7. Yet pray mistake not lovely fair ones Your beauties I do still admire And bear due Reverence to the Rare ones Of your most sweet selected quire For when I view Those forms in you My breast with admiration fills Of your Creators heavenly skills 8. And now to you that are devoted Alone to serve the Deity And to that happiness promoted To wait upon the Trinity I come I come Vouchsafe me room Where I with you my offerings may Before the sacred Altar lay 9. Where though this earth our feet retaineth Our souls surmount the starry skies And in that blest estate remaineth Adoring of the Mysteries And though 't appear We wander here And breath from this dull Aire receive Yet Aliens to the world we live FINIS a Kinaston of Otley a Birch Can with the rough bark on it that held about a quart c Out of his Belt d Bishop Andrews in praise of Ale Manwaring of Bostok A word for Als. f The Kings Army being routed there