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A33850
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A Collection of poems on affairs of state by A.M. and other eminent wits ...
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Marvell, Andrew, 1621-1678.
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1689
(1689)
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Wing C5176; ESTC R23725
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18,930
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37
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Hard Fate of Princes who will ne'r believe Till the Stroke's struck which they can ne'r retrieve Nosterdamus's PROPHECY By A. M. FOR Faults and Follies London's Doom shall fix And She must sink in Flames in Sixty six Fire-Balls shall fly but few shall see the Train As far as from White-hall to Pudding-Lane To burn the City which again shall rise Beyond all hopes aspiring to the Skies Where Vengeance dwells But there is one thing more Though its Walls stand shall bring the City lower When Legislators shall their Trust betray Saving their own shall give the rest away And those false men by th' easie People sent Give Taxes to the King by Parliament When bare-fac'd Villains shall not blush to cheat And Chequer-Doors shall shut up Lumbard Street When Players come to act the Part of Queens Within the Curtains and behind the Scenes When Sodomy shall be prime Min'sters Sport And Whoring shall be the least Crime at Court When Boys shall take their Sisters for their Mate And practise Incests between Seven and Eight When no man knows in whom to put his trust And e'en to rob the Chequer shall be just When Declarations Lie and every Oath Shall be in use dat Court but Faith and Troth When two goo Kings shall be at Brentford Town And when in London there shall be not one When the Seat's given to a talking Fool Whom wise Men laugh at and whom Women rule A Min'ster able only in his Tongue To make harsh empty Speeches two hours long When an old Scotch Covenant shall be The Champion for th' English Hierarchy When Bishops shall lay all Religion by And strive by Law t' establish Tyranny When a lean Treasurer shall in one year Make himself fat his King and People bare When th' English Prince shall English men despise And think French only Loyal Irish Wise When Wooden Shoon shall be the English Wear And Magna Charta shall no more appear Then th' English shall a greater Tyrant know Than either Greek or Latin Story show Their Wives to 's Lust expos'd their Wealth to 's Spoil With Groans to fill his Treasury they toil But like the Bellides must sigh in vain For that still fill'd flows out as fast again Then they with envious Eyes shall Belgium see And wish in vain Venetian Liberty The Frogs too late grown weary of their Pain Shall pray to Iove to take him back again Sir Edmondbury Godfrey's Ghost IT happen'd in the Twi-light of the Day As England's Monarch in his Closet lay And Chiffinch step'd to fetch the Female Prey The bloody shape of Godfrey did appear And in sad Vocal Sounds these things declare Behold Great Sir I from the Shades am sent To shew these Wounds that did your Fall prevent My panting Ghost as Envoy comes to call And warn you lest like me y' untimely fall Who against Law your Subjects Lives pursue By the same rate may dare to murther you I for Religion Laws and Liberties Am mangled thus and made a Sacrifice Think what befel Great Egypt's hardned King Who scorn'd the Profit of admonishing Shake off your brandy Slumbers for my Words More Truth than all your close Cabal affords A Court you have with Luxury oregrown And all the Vices ere in Nature known Where Pimps and Panders in their Coaches ride And in Lampoons and Songs your Lust deride Old Bawds and slighted Whores there tell with shame The dull Romance of your lascivious Flame Players and Scaramouches are your Joy Priests and French Apes do all your Land annoy Still so profuse you are insolvent grown A Mighty Bankrupt on a Golden Throne Your nauseous Palate the worst Food doth crave No wholesom Viands can an entrance have Each Night you lodge in that French Syren's Arms She straight betrays you with her wanton Charms Works on your Heart softned with Love and Wine And then betrays you to some Philistine Imperial Lust does o'er your Scepter sway And though a Sovereign makes you to obey Yet thoughts so stupid have your Soul possess'd As if inchanted by some Magick Priest. Next he who 'gainst the Senate's Vote did wed Took defil'd H. and Hesti to his Bed Fiend in his Face Apostle in his Name Contriv'd two Wars to your eternal shame He ancient Laws and Liberties defies On standing Guards and new raised Force relies The Teagues he courts and doth the French admire And fain he would be mounted one step higher All this by you must needs be plainly seen And yet he awes you with his daring Spleen Th' unhappy Kingdom suffered much of Old When Spencer and loose Gaveston controull'd Yet they by just Decrees were timely sent To suffer a perpetual Banishment But your bold States-men nothing can restrain Their most enormous Courses you maintain Witness that Man who had for divers years Pay'd the Cubb-Commons Pensions and Arrears Though your Exchequer was at his Command Durst not before his just Accuser stand For Crimes and Treasons of so black a hue None dare to prove his Advocate but you Trust not in Prelates false Divinity Who wrong their Prince and shame their Deity Making a God so partial in their Cause Exempting Kings alone from humane Laws These lying Oracles they did infuse Of old and did your Martyr'd Sire abuse Their strong delusions did him so inthral No Cautions would anticipate his Fall. Repent in time and banish from your sight The Pimp the Whore Buffoon Church-parasite Let Innocence deck your remaining days That After-ages may unfold your Praise So may Historians in new Methods write And draw a Curtain 'twixt your black and white The Ghost spake thus groan'd thrice and said no more Straight in came Chiffinch hand in hand with Whore The King tho' much concern'd with Joy and Fear Starts from the Couch and bid the Dame draw near Upon the King's Voyage to Chatham to make Bulwarks against the Dutch And the Queen's miscarriage thereupon WHen Iames our great Monarch so Wise and Discreet Was gone with three Barges to face the Dutch Fleet Our young Prince of Wales by Inheritance stout Was coming to aid him and peep'd his Head out But seeing his Father without Ships or Men Commit the defence of us all to a Chain Taffee was frighted and sculck'd out again Nor thought while the Dutch domineer'd on our Road It was safe to come further and venture abroad Not Walgrave or th'Epistle of Seignieur le Duke Made Her Majesty Sick and her Royal Womb puke But the Dutch-men Pickeering at Dover and Harwich Gave the Ministers Agues and the Queen a Miscarriage And to see the poor King stand in Ships of such need Made the Catholicks quake and Her Majesty bleed And I wish this sad Accident don't spoil the young Prince Take off all his Manhood and make him a Wench But the Hero his Father no courage does lack Who was sorry on such a pretext to come back He mark'd out his ground and mounted a Gun And 't is thought without such a pretence
A COLLECTION OF POEMS ON Affairs of State Viz. Advice to a Painter Hodge's Vision Britain and Raleigh Statue at Stocks-M Young Statesman To the K Nostradamus Prophecy Sir Edmondbury Godfrey's Ghost On the King's Voyage to Chattam Poems on Oliver by Mr. Driden Mr. Sprat and Mr. Waller BY A M l Esq and other Eminent Wits Most whereof never before Printed LONDON Printed in the Year MDCLXXXIX Advice to a Painter by A. M. Esq SPread a large Canvass Painter to contain The great Assembly and the num'rous Train Where all about him shall in Triumph sit Abhorring Wisdom and despising Wit Hating all Iustice and resolv'd to Fight First draw His Highness prostrate to the South Adoring Rome with this Speech in his Mouth Most Holy Father being joyn'd in League With Father P s D y and with Teague Thrown at your Sacred Feet I humbly bow I and the wise Associates of my Vow A Vow nor Fire nor Sword shall ever end Till all this Nation to your Footstool bend Thus arm'd with Zeal and Blessings from your Hands I 'le raise my Papists and my Irish Bands And by a Noble well-contrived Plot Manag'd by wise Fitz and by Scot Prove to the World I 'le have Old England know That common Sense is my Eternal Foe I ne'r can fight in a more glorious Cause Than to destroy their Liberty and Laws Their House of Commons and their House of Lords Parliaments Precedents and dull Records Shall these e'r dare to contradict my Will And think a Prince o th' Blood can e'r do ill It is our Birth-right to have Power to kill Shall they e're dare to think they shall decide The Way to Heaven and who shall be my Guide Shall they pretend to say That Bread is Bread Or there 's no Purgatory for the Dead That Extream Vnction is but common Oyl And not Infallibly the Roman Spoil I will have Villains in Our Notions rest And I do say it therefore it 's the best Next Painter draw his M by his side Conveying his Religion and his Bride He who long since abjur'd the Royal Line Does now in Popery with his Master joyn Then draw the Princess with her golden Locks Hastning to be envenom'd with the P And in her youthful Veins receive a Wound Which sent N. H. before her under Ground The Wound of which the tainted Ch fades Laid up in Store for a new Set of Maids Poor Princess born under a sullen Star To find such Welcome when you came so far Better some jealous Neighbour of your own Had call'd you to a Sound tho' petty Throne Where 'twixt a wholesom Husband and a Page You might have linger'd out a lazy Age Than on dull Hopes of being here a Q Ere twenty dye and rot before fifteen Now Painter shew us in the Blackest Dye The Counsellors of all this Villany Cl d who first appear'd in humble guise Was always thought too Gentle Meek and Wise But when he came to act upon the Stage He prov'd the mad Cethegus of our Age He and his D ke had both too great a Mind To be by Iustice or by Law confin'd Their boyling Heads can hear no other Sounds Than Fleets and Armies Battails Blood and Wounds And to destroy our Liberty they hope By Irish Talbot and old doting Pope Next Talbot must by his great Master stand Laden with Folly Flesh and Ill-got Land He 's of a size indeed to fill a Porch But ne'r can make a Pillar of the Church His Sword is all his Argument not his Book Altho' no Scholar he can act the Cook And will cut Throats again if he be paid In th' Irish Shambles he first learn'd the Trade Then Painter shew thy Skill and in fit place Let 's see the Nuncio A ll's sweet Face Let the Beholders by thy Art espy His Sense and Soul as squinting as his Eye Let B s autumnal Face be seen Rich with the Spoils of a poor Algerine Who trusting in him was by him betray'd And so shall we when his Advice's obey'd Great Heroes to get Honour by the Sword He got his Wealth by breaking of his Word And now his Daughter he hath got with Child And Pimps to have his Family defil'd Next Painter draw the Rabble of the Plot G n Fitz G d Loftus Porter Scot These are fit Heads indeed to turn a State And change the Order of a Nations Fate Ten thousand such as these shall ne'r controul The smallest Atom of an English Soul. Old England on a strong Foundation stands Defying all their Heads and all their Hands It s steady Basis never could be shook When wiser Men her Ruin undertook And can her Guardian Angels let her stoop At last to Madmen Fools and to the Pope No Painter no close up this Piece and See This crowd of Traitors hang'd in EFFIGIE Hodge a Countryman went up to the Piramid His VISION WHen Hodge had numbred up how many Score The airy Piramid constrain'd he swore No mortal Wight e'r climb'd so high before To th' best Advantage plac'd he Views around Th' Imperial Throne with lofty Turrets crown'd The wealthy Store-house of the bounteous Flood Whose peaceful Tide o'rflows our Land with Good Confused Forms fleet by his wondring Eyes And his Soul too seiz'd by Divine surprize Some God it seems had entred his plain Breast And with 's Abode that Rustick Mansion blest A mighty Change he feels in ev'ry Part Light guides his Eyes and Wisdom rules his Heart So when her pious Son fair Venus show'd His flaming Troy with slaughter'd Dardan's Strow'd She purg'd his Optick Films his clouded Sight Then Troy's last Doom he read by Heaven's Light Such Light Divine did seize the dazling Eyes Of humble Hodge Regions remote Courts Councils Policies The Circling Wills of Tyrants Treacheries He views discerns deciphers penetrates From Charles's Dukes to Europe's armed States He saw the Goatish King in his Alcove With secret Scenes of his incestuous Love To whom he spoke Cease cease O Charles thus to pollute our Isle Return return to thy long wisht Exile There with thy Court defile the neighb'ring States And by thy Crimes participate their Fates He saw the Duke in his curst Divan set To 's vast Designs reaching his Pigmy-Wit With a choice Knot of the Ignatian Crew Who th' way to Murthers and to Treasons shew Dissenters they oppress with Laws severe That whilst we wound these Innocents we fear Their cursed Seed we may be forc'd to spare Twice the Reform'd must fight a double Prize That Rome and France may in their Ruines rise Old Bonner single Hereticks did burn These Reform'd Cities into Ashes turn And ev'ry year new Fires make us mourn Hybernian Tories plot his cruel Reign And thirst for English Martyrs Blood again Our Valiant Youth abroad must learn the Trade Of unjust War their Countrey to invade Others at home must grind us to prepare Our Gallick Necks their Iron Yoke to wear Ships once our Safety and our glorious Might