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Dull cuckolds! we are dainty slaves,

And well may be content,

When thirty fools, and twenty knaves,
Make up a parliament.

They banish all men in their wits,
Vote king, lords, all offenders;
And authorise the phrentick fits
Of our long-sword state-menders.
'Tis Noll's own brew-house now,
I swear;
The speaker's but his skinker:
Their members are, like th' council of war,
Car-men, pedlars, and tinkers.

Fine Journey Junto! pretty knack!
None such in all past ages!

Shut shop; for, now the godly pack
Will next pay you your wages.
Gone are those golden days of yore,
When Christmas was an high-day,
Whose sports we now shall see no more;
'Tis turn'd into Good-Friday.

Now, when the king of kings was born,
And did salvation bring,

They strive to crucify in scorn

His viceroy, and their king.

Since th' ancient feast they have put down,

No new one will suffice;

But the choice dainties of a crown,

Princes in sacrifice.

No powers are safe, treason's a tilt,
And the mad sainted-elves

Boast, when the royal blood is spilt,
They'll all be kings themselves.
Like jolly slaves, ye goodly knaves,
We'll bid th' old year adieu:
Old sack and things must pass away,
And so shall all your new.

Now for a no-king, or a new;

For th' old, they say, shall pack; The new may serve a year to view Like an old almanack.

New houses, new; for th' old ones dote, And have been thrice made plunder;

The saints do vote, and act by rote,

And are a nine-days wonder.

Then let us chear, this 'merry new-year; For CHARLES shall wear the crown: 'Tis a damn'd cause, that damns the laws, And turns all upside down.

A VISION,

CONCERNING HIS LATE PRETENDED HIGHNESS

CROMWELL, THE WICKED:

Containing a Discourse in Vindication of him, by a pretended Angel, and the Confutation thereof,

BY THE AUTHOR, ABRAHAM COWLEY.

Sua cuique Deus fit dira Libido.

VIRGIL.

London: Printed for Henry Herringman, at the Anchor in the Lower-walk in the New-exchange, 1661. Twelves, containing ninety Pages.

ADVERTISEMENT.

THIS discourse was written in the time of the late protector, Richard the Little; and was but the first book of three, that were designed by the author. The second was to be a discourse with the guardian angel of England, concerning all the late confusions and misfortunes of it. The third, to denounce heavy judgments against the three kingdoms, and several places and parties in them, unless they prevented them speedily by serious repentance, and that greatest and hardest work of it, restitution. There was to be upon this subject the burden of England, the burden of Scotland, the burden of Ireland, the burden of London, the burden of the army, the burden of the divines, the burden of the lawyers, and many others, after the manner of prophetical threatenings in the Old Testament: But, by the extraordinary mercy of God (for which we had no pretence of merit, nor the least glimpse of hope) in the sudden restoration of reason, and right, and happiness to us, it became not only unnecessary, but unseasonable and impertinent to prosecute the work. However, it seemed not so to the author to publish this first part, because, though no man can justify or approve the actions of Cromwell, without having all the seeds and principles of wickedness in his heart, yet many there are, even honeft and and well-meaning people, who, without wading into any depth of confideration in the matter, and purely deceived by splendid words, and the outward appearances of vanity, are apt to admire him as a great and eminent person; which is a fallacy, that extraordinary, and, especially, successful villainies impose upon the world. It is the corrup tion and depravation of human nature, that is the root of this opinion, though it lie sometimes so deep under ground, that we ourselves are not able to perceive it; and, when we account any man great, or brave, or wise, or of good parts, who advances himself and his family, by any other ways, but those of virtue, we are certainly biassed to that judgment by a secret impulse, or, at least, inclination of the viciousness of our own spirit. It is so necessary for the good and peace of mankind, that this error (which grows almost every where, and is spontaneously generated by the rankness of the soil, should be weeded out, and for ever extirpated, that the author was content not to fuppress this discourse, because it may contribute somewhat to that end, though it be but a small piece of that which was his original design.

IT

was the funeral-day of the late man who made himself to be called protector, and though I bore but little affection, either to the memory of him, or to the trouble and folly of all publick pageantry; yet I was forced, by the importunity of my company, to go along with them, and be a spectator of that solemnity, the expectation of which had been so great, that it was said to have brought some very curious persons, and no doubt singular vir. tuoso's, as far as from the Mount in Cornwall, and from the Or

cades. I found there had been much more cost bestowed than either the dead man, or indeed death itself could deserve. There was a mighty train of black assistants, among which too divers princes in the persons of their ambassadors, being infinitely afflicted for the loss of their brother, were pleased to attend; the herse was magnificent, the idol crowned, and, not to mention all other ceremonies which are practised at royal interments, and therefore by no means could be omitted here, the vast multitude of spectators made up, as it uses to do, no small part of the spectacle itself. But yet, I know not how, the whole was so managed, that, methought, it somewhat represented the life of him for whom it was made; much noise, much tumult, much expence, much magnificence, much vain-glory; briefly, a great show, and yet, after all this, but an ill sight. At last, for it seemed long to me, and, like his short reign too, very tedious, the whole scene passed by, and I retired back to my chamber, weary, and, I think, more melancholy than any of the mourners. Where I began to reflect upon the whole life of this prodigious man; and sometimes I was filled with horror and detestation of his actions, and sometimes I inclined a little to reverence and admiration of his courage, conduct, and success; till, by these different motions and agitations of mind, rocked, as it were asleep, I fell at last into this vision, or, if you please to call it but a dream, I shall not take it ill, because the father of poets tells us, even dreams too are from God.

But sure it was no dream; for I was suddenly transported afar off, whether in the body, or out of the body, like St. Paul, I know not, and found myself upon the top of that famous hill in the Island Mona, which has the prospect of three great, and, notlong-since, most happy kingdoms: As soon as ever I looked upon them, the not-long-since struck upon my memory, and called forth the sad representation of all the sins, and all the miseries that had overwhelmed them these twenty years. And I wept bitterly for two or three hours; and, when my present stock of moisture was all wasted, I fell a sighing for an hour more; and as soon as I recovered, from my passion, the use of speech and reason, I broke forth, as I remember, looking upon England, inte this complaint:

I.

Ah, happy isle, how art thou chang'd and curst,
Since I was born, and knew thee first!

When peace, which had forsook the world around,
(Frighted with noise, and the shrill trumpet's sound)
Thee for a private place of rest,

And a secure retirement chose

Wherein to build her Halcyon nest;

No wind durst stir abroad the air to discompose.

II.

When all the riches of the globe beside

Flow'd in to thee with every tide ;

When all that nature did thy soil deny,
The growth was of thy fruitful industry;
When all the proud and dreadful sea,
And all his tributary streams,

A constant tribute paid to thee;

When all the liquid world was one extended Thames. III.

When plenty in each village did appear,

And bounty was its steward there;

When gold walk'd free about in open view,
'Ere it one conquering party's prisoner grew;
When the religion of our state

Had face and substance with her voice,
'Ere she by 'er foolish loves of late,

Like Eccho (once a nymph) turn'd only into noise.
IV.

When men to men respect and friendship bore,
And God with reverence did adore;
When upon earth no kingdom could have shown
A happier monarch to us than our own,
And yet his subjects by him were
(Which is a truth will hardly be
Receiv'd by any vulgar ear,

A secret known to few) made happier ev'n than he.

V.

Thou dost a chaos, and confusion now,

A Babel, and a Bedlam grow,

And, like a frantick person, thou dost tear

The ornaments and cloaths which thou should'st wear, And cut thy limbs; and if we see

(Just as thy barbarous Britons did)

Thy body with hypocrisy

Painted all o'er, thou think'st, thy naked shame is hid.

VI.

The nations, which envied thee 'ere while,

Now laugh (too little 'tis to smile)

They laugh, and would have pity'd thee (alas!)
But that thy faults all pity do surpasз.

Art thou the country which didst hate,

And mock the French inconstancy?

And have we, have we seen of late

Less change of habits there, than governments in thee?

VII.

Unhappy isle! no ship of thine at sea

Was ever toss'd and torn like thee.

Thy naked hulk loose on the waves does beat,

The rocks and banks around her ruin threat;

What did thy foolish pilots ail,

To lay the compass quite aside?
Without a law or rule to sail,

And rather take the winds, than heavens to be their guide?
VIII.

Yet, mighty God, yet, yet, we humbly crave,
This floating isle from shipwreck save;

And though to wash that blood which does it, stain,
It well deserves to sink into the main;

Yet, for the royal martyr's prayer,

(The royal martyr prays we know)

Hear but his soul above, and not his blood below.

I think I should have gone on, but that I was interrupted by a strange and terrible apparition, for there appeared to me (arising out of the earth, as I conceived) the Figure of a man taller than a giant, or indeed than the shadow of any giant in the evening. His body was naked, but that nakedness adorned, or rather deformed all over with several figures, after the manner of the Britons, painted upon it; and I perceived that most of them were the representations of the late battles in our civil wars, and, if I be not much mistaken, it was the battle of Naseby that was drawn upon his breast. His eyes were like burning brass, and there were three crowns of the same metal, as I guessed, and that looked as redhot too, upon his head. He held in his right-hand a sword that was yet bloody, and nevertheless the motto of it was Pax quæritur bello, and in his left-hand a thick book, upon the back of which was written in letters of gold, acts, ordinances, protestations, covenants, engagements, declarations, remonstrances, &c. Though this sudden, unusual, and dreadful object might have quelled a greater courage than mine, yet so it pleased God, for there is nothing bolder than a man in a vision, that I was not at all daunted, but asked him resolutely and briefly, What art thou? And he said, I am called the north-west principality, his highness, the protector of the commonwealth of England, Scotland, and Ireland, and the dominions belonging thereunto, for I am that angel to whom the Almighty has committed the government of those three kingdoms, which thou seest from this place. And I answered and said, If it be so, sir, it seems to me, that for almost these twenty years past your highness has been absent from your charge; for not only if any angel, but if any wise and honest men had, since that time, been our governor, we should not have wandered thus long in these laborious and endless labyrinths of confusion, but either not have entered at all into them, or at least have returned back, before we had absolutely lost our way; but, instead of your highness, we have had since such a protector as was his predecessor Ricirard the Third, to the king his nephew; for he presently slew the commonwealth, which he pretended to protect, and set up himself in the

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