THE COLOURS TAKEN AT NASEBY.

(June 14th, 1645. From Vox Pacifica.)

HE scornful adversaries rushed on,

To policy and strength themselves commending, The Lord of Hosts our friends relied upon, With prayers fighting, and with faith defending: And lo, God gave their foes into their hand: For when He fighteth, who can then withstand? The victory was great, and every one

Observed what circumstances pleased him best;
But that my thoughts did most insist upon,

(Which others peradventure minded least,)
These loyal ensigns from the field were brought,
The lion rampant and the dragon flying,
The roses and portcullis; which methought
Were pledges future mercy signifying.
And so, no doubt, they shall be, if that race
To which God calleth us we now shall run;
And better heed the tokens of this grace

And earnests of His love than we have done;
For valiant Fairfax now hath sent us home
In hieroglyphic, signs of things to come.
The ramping lion (which doth signify
A raging tyrant) may an earnest be
That God will from oppressing tyranny
Upon our good abearing set us free.
A dragon is that most prodigious beast
Whereby the Holy Ghost hath typified
That foe by whom the saints are most opprest,
And by whom daily they are crucified.

The taking of that ensign may foreshew

That, if we faithfully the work endeavour, The power of antichrist we shall subdue,

And from these islands cast his throne for ever. Vouchsafe us power, O God, vouchsafe us grace To drive him and his angels from this place. The joining of the roses doth declare

That God will to these honours us restore,
Wherewith he crown'd us when, in peace and war,
We on our crest those lovely flowers wore.
Their blushing beauties are, to me, a sign
Of that delightful and soul-pleasing grace
Which will make lovely our church discipline
When God hath changed our discords into peace.
The sweetness and the virtues of the rose
Do seem to promise to us those effects,
And fruit which from internal graces flows,
Yea, and their prickles are, in some respects,
Significant, for I by them foresee

That his corrections always needful be.
By taking their portcullis from the foe
It may portend (and, if with penitence
We prosecute the work, it shall be so)

That we have taken from them their defence.
It may betoken also that God's hand

Will bar our gates and make our city strong, And, by his mercy, fortify the land,

Against all them who seek to do us wrong. But, for a surer token of this grace,

God sends us home, among the spoils of war, That cabinet of mischief wherein was

The proof of what our foes' intentions are: And that their projects God will still disclose, And fool their policies, this prize foreshows.

M

George Wither.

ON THE NEW FORCERS OF CONSCIENCE
UNDER THE LONG PARLIAMENT.

ECAUSE you have thrown off your prelate-lord,
And with stiff vows renounced his liturgy,

To seize the widow'd whore Plurality

From them whose sin ye envied, not abhorr'd;
Dare ye for this adjure the civil sword

To force our consciences that Christ set free,
And ride us with a classic hierarchy,

Taught ye by mere A. S. and Rotherford ?
Men, whose life, learning, faith, and pure intent
Would have been held in high esteem with Paul,
Must now be named and printed heretics
By shallow Edwards and Scotch What-d'ye-call.
But we do hope to find out all your tricks,
Your plots and packing worse than those of Trent,
That so the Parliament

May, with their wholesome and preventive shears,
Clip your phylacteries, though bauk your ears,
And succour our just fears,

When they shall read this clearly in your charge,
New presbyter is but old priest writ large.

鮮雞

John Milton.

LABOUR AND CHEERFULNESS.

(From a Sonnet.)

O measure life learn thou betimes, and know
Toward solid good what leads the nearest way;

For other things mild heaven a time ordains,
And disapproves that care, though wise in show,
That with superfluous burdens loads the day,

And when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains.
John Milton.

TO THE LORD GENERAL FAIRFAX.

AIRFAX, whose name in arms through Europe rings,

Filling each mouth with envy or with praise, And all her jealous monarchs with amaze And rumours loud, that daunt remotest kings, Thy firm unshaken virtue ever brings

Victory home, though new rebellions raise Their hydra-heads, and the false North displays Her broken league to imp their serpent-wings. Oh! yet a nobler task awaits thy hand...

For what can war but endless war still breed Till truth and right from violence be freed, And public faith clear'd from the shameful brand Of public fraud? In vain doth valour bleed, While avarice and rapine share the land.

John Milton.

THE CONQUERED KING.

(From Prosopopoeia Britannica.

1648.)

REALM that fears to call her trustee to
Account for aught misdone, or left to do,

Is like those children who do fear the shows
Which they themselves set up to scare the crows;
And they, who think you have no rightful power
To curb his fury who might you devour,
May think as well they should not put a clog,
Or hang a chain, upon a shepherd's dog,

Although he daily bites and kills the sheep,
Which he was only bred and fed to keep.
Men do not use to hunt a beast of prey,
To take him and then let him go away.
Kings who without control the sceptre sway'd
As tameless are as lions that have prey'd,
Which, howsoever you shall use or feed them,
Will soon grow dangerous unless you heed them.
When he whose ancient birthright was quite lost
Hath by expense of labour, time and cost,
A lawful repossession of it sought,
And at the law his suit to trial brought;
Obtain'd a verdict, judgment, execution,
And full possession without diminution,
What, for a friend! I pray, were such a one
Who should persuade this man when all were done,
To waive his lawful right so dearly bought,
To treat with him who his undoing sought,
And, uncompell'd, refer unto debate

What he should take or leave of that estate?

A HORATIAN ODE

George Wither.

Upon Cromwell's return from Ireland.

HE forward youth that would appear,
Must now forsake his Muses dear,
Nor in the shadows sing

His numbers languishing:

'Tis time to leave the books in dust,
And oil the unused armour's rust,

Removing from the wall

The corselet of the hall.