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heaven_n church_n earth_n triumphant_a 4,427 5 11.4398 5 true
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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A25502 The Answer of Coleman's ghost to H.N.'s poetick offering 1679 (1679) Wing A3285; ESTC R26644 1,010 4

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THE ANSWER OF Coleman's Ghost TO H. N's POETICK OFFERING RISE Nevil Rise and do not punish me With the vain sight of your Idolatry You may with equal Reason call upon The good Saint Icarus or Phaeton Who do the Sacred Name deserve as far As some who Blush in Roman Kalendar With like Ambition I design'd to know No other Triumphs but of things below And rather labour'd how there might be given French Crowns postponing all the Crowns of Heaven Favour'd in this because kind Heaven declines My high Intrigues and baffles my Designs None with more covetous Zeal pursu'd our Cause Or fell a more due Sacrifice to Laws In that sad Day when strangled Life Expir'd And the just flames my bloody Limbs requir'd Whilst my hot Soul in hasty flight retires From Tyburns only Purgatory Fires Immortal shapes crowd on in Troops to view My Plotting Soul and stopt me as I flew Such Spirits who Incarnate ever mov'd In their By-Paths and never quiet lov'd The Cunning Machiavel drew near and fear'd Screek't at the sight of me and disapeard Shewing how weak all human Plotts are laid Where Hopes and Souls have always been betray'd Scylla and Marius wondring at our Crimes Pittied the near misfortune of our times Sigh'd at those streams of blood which were to run And curst our Tables of Proscription Fierce Catiline our Villany decry'd To whom the bold Cethegus soon reply'd How New Rome imitates and yet exceeds In dire Conspiracies our puny deeds Great Caesars Ghost with Envy lookt on me That for Romes sake I aim'd at more than he To Conquer all the Isles of Britanny Yet blam'd the Cruelties which were to come From that Dictator which now Reigns at Rome Spiritual Dictator who more controuls Than he and claps his Fetters on our Souls He told me Old Romes Walls had longer stood If Romulus had spar'd his Brothers blood And that Romes happiness grew alwaies worse When it resembled the fierce Wolf its Nurse Ah my good Friend how clearly do I find In this new State the faults of human kind Nothing procures so high a Place above As universal Charity and Love Infus'd and manag'd by the Heavenly Dove Heav'n is a quiet Kingdom which we call Your injur'd Scriptures true Original There no false Comments on the Text appear Nor must Trents Spurious Council domineer Sometime with me Dear Nevil you must grant The Church Triumphant to be Protestant If against them on Earth Romes malice thrives 'T is not Romes Cause prevails but their ill Lives So Babylon of old vext Israel And wicked Men raise Enemies from Hell As once on Earth I did your good attend So now for Love I am your Ghostly Friend Let your Soul hate all bloody ways and things To subvert States and Laws to murther Kings Or you are sure to equal my disgrace And without Mercy you may name your place FINIS