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death_n end_n good_a life_n 9,382 5 4.8333 4 true
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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A54827 Caroli tou makaritou paliggenesia Pierce, Thomas, 1622-1691. 1649 (1649) Wing P2165A; ESTC R31122 5,334 14

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just so good so great and all What is 't could set him higher but his fal When he caught up by a Celestial Train Began his second and more solid Raign How to that Haven did this Pilot steer Twixt th' Independent and the Presbyter Plac'd in the confines of two shipwracks thus The Greeks are seated 'twixt the Turks and Vs Whom did Byzantium fre● Rome would condemn And freed from Rome they are enslaved by them So plac'd betwixt a Precipice and Wolf There the Aegaean here the Venice-gulf What with the rising and the setting Sun By these th' are hated and by those undon Thus virtues hemm'd with vices and though either Solicites her consent she yields to neither Nay thus our Saviour to enhance his grief Was hung betwixt a Murderer and a Thief Now Charles as King and as a good King too Being Christs adopted self was both to do And suffer like him both to live and die So much more humble as he was more high Then his own Subjects He was thus to tread In the same footsteps and submit his Head To the same thorns when spit upon and beat To make his Conscience serve for his retreat And overcome by suffering To take up His Saviours Crosse and pledge him in his Cup Since then our Soveraign by just account Liv'd o're our Saviours Sermon in the Mount And did all Christian Precepts so reduce That 's Life the Doctrine was his Death the Use Posterity will say he should have dy'd No other Death then by being Crucified And their renownedst Epocha will be Great Charles his Death next Christ's Nativity Thus Treason 's grown most Orthodox who since They said they 'd make him the most glorious Prince In all the Christian World 't is plain this way They onely promis'd what they meant to pay For now besides that beatifick Vision Where all desire is lost into fruition The stones they hurled at him with intent To crush his fame have prov'd his monument Their Libels his best Obeliske To have A fit Mausóle were to want a Grave His Scaffold like mount Tabor will in story Become the proudest Theater of Glory Next to the blessed Crosse and thus 't is sense T' affirm him murder'd in his own Defence For though all Hells Artillery and skill Combin'd together to besiege his Will And when their malice could not bring 't about To hurt God's Image they raz'd Adam's out Like men repuls'd whose Choler think's it witty To burn the Suburbs when they can't the City Howe're they storm'd his walls and draind his blood Which moted round his Soul yet still he stood Defender of the Faith and that which He Found sweeter then revenge his Charity This then the utmost was their rage could do It shew'd him King of his afflictions too Vntempted Virtue is but coldly good As she 's scarce chaste that 's so but in cold blood To scorn base Quarter is the best escape As Lucrece dy'd the chaster for her rape These two did Charles his Virtue most befriend His glorious hardships first and then his end Death we forgive thee and thy Bourreaux too Since what did seem thy rape proves but his due For how could he be said to fall too soon Whose green was mellow whose dawn was noon Since Charles was onely by thy curteous knife Redeemd from this great injury of life To one so lasting that 't is truly said Not He but his mortality is dead To weep his Death 's the treason of our eyes Our Sun did onely set that he might rise But we do mock not cheat our grief and sit Onely at best t' upbraid our selves in wit And want him learnedly such colours doe Disguise disasters not delude them too For though I must confesse a Poet can Fancy things better then another man He can but fancy'um and all his pains Is but to fill his belly with his brains He may both Petrify'd and famisht sit That wears his thoughts and onely dine's on wit Were I a Polypus and could go on To be those very things I think upon I would not then complain but since I know To call things thus is not to make them so Great Charles is slain and say we what we will Yet we shall find judgements are judgements still For though 't is true that his now-immense Soul Doth hold commensuration with each Pole Though he doth shine a Star more fixt and bright Then where the yeare makes but one day and night And least he fill the Zodiack doth appear Not in the Eighth but Empyraean Sphere Yet we his Rise may our Descension call As Libra's mounting is poore Aries fall He was the onely Moses that could stand Betwixt the sinnes and judgements of the Land And what can we expect our Lot being gon But that a Hell from Heav'n should tumble down On our more sinfull Sodom unlesse we Are damn'd yet worse to an impunity Kings are Gods once remov'd It hence appears No Court but Heav'ns can trie them by their Peer So that for Charles the Good to have been try'd And cast by mortall Votes was Deicide No Sinne except the first hath ever past So black as this no Iudgement but the last How does our Del●s vvhich so lately stood Unmov'd lie floating in her Pilots blood And can vve hope to Anchor vvho discern Nought but the tempest ruling at the stern Whil'st Pluto's Rival vvith his Saints by 's side Dravvn by the Spirit of avarice and pride Being fairly placed in the Chair of scorn Sits brewing Tears for Infants yet unborn Vast stocks of misery vvhich his Guardian-rage Does husband for them till they come to age When future times shall look vvhat Plagues befe Aegypt and Us by'vvay of Parallel They 'l find at once presented to their view The Frogs and Lice and Independents too Onely this signal difference vvill be knovvn Tvvixt those Aegyptian judgements and our own Those vvere Gods Armies but th' effect doth tell That these our Vermin are the Host of Hell Pausanias and Herostratus vvill look Like Pygmy-Sinners vvrit in Times black-book The Spanish Fleet and Powder-plot vvill lack Their usuall mentions in our Almanack Nay vvhich is more (c) Alaricus his name Will scarce be legible i' th' leaves of fame When Cromwel shall be read Nature vvas ne're So blessedly reform'd since Lucifer O for a Ieremy to lamemt our woe From vvhom such tragick Rhetorick might flovv As vvould become our misery and dresse Our sorrows vvith a dreadfull gaudinesse For next those hovering judgements vvhich the fall Of One so great so good makes Verticall And rushing dovvn may onely be vvithstood If Charles his praiers crie louder than his blood I say next that It is our second Crosse We can't grieve worthy of so great a Losse To vveep upon this subject and weep sense Requires vve should be born ten Ages hence The greater are the hights an Artist's hand Designes to take the farther he must stand And as vvhen Sol's in 's Zenith He imply's His dazling glory best that shuts his eyes So vvhere the Theme 's ineffable the vvay To speak it is (d) Not to know what to say THE END * De Catone ve●us dict●m Ultimus Romanorum Primus Hominum * {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} Longin (a) Evagr. l. 1. c. 21. de Monachis quisusdam {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} (b) Evagr. l. 1. c. 13. {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} (c) Socrat. l. 7. c. 10. hoc Alarichiresponsum recitat {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} (d) Herodot l. 3. Psammetichus ad Cambysem cùm Amicorum vicem lacrymis lugeret suam verò silentio {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} c.