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On the Death of OLIVER CROMWELL,
Written after his FUNERAL.
ND now 'tis time; for their officious hafte,
Like eager 6 Romans, ere all rites were paft,
6 It was ufual to conceal an eagle on the top of the funeral pile, When deftined to receive the dead body of the Roman imperator. the pile was fet on fire, the bird was fet at liberty, and mounting into the air, was fuppofed by the common people to carry with it to heaven the foul of the deceased.
Tho' our best notes are treafon to his fame,
Join'd with the loud applaufe of public voice;
Tho' in his praise no arts can liberal be,
Since they, whofe mufes have the higheft flown,
But do an act of friendship to their own :
Yet 'tis our duty, and our interest too,
Such monuments as we can build to raise;
How fhall I then begin, or where conclude,
His grandeur he deriv'd from heav'n alone;
No borrow'd bays his temples did adorn,
But to our crown he did fresh jewels bring;
Fortune, that eafy mistress to the young,
He private mark'd the fault of others fway.
And yet dominion was not his defign;
We owe that bleffing, not to him, but heav'n,
Our former chiefs, like fticklers of the war,
War, our confumption, was their gainful trade:
To ftaunch the blood by breathing of the vein.
Swift and refiftlefs through the land he past,
And made to battles fuch heroic hafte,
As if on wings of victory he flew,
He fought fecure of fortune as of fame :
Still by new maps, the island might be shewn, Of conquefts, which he ftrew'd where-e'er he came, Thick as the galaxy with stars is fown.
His palms, tho' under weights they did not ftand,
7 Alexander the great.
Peace was the prize of all his toil and care,
Her fafety refcu'd Ireland to him owes;
And treacherous Scotland to no intereft true, Yet bleft that fate which did his arms difpofe Her land to civilize, as to fubdue.
Nor was he like those stars which only shine,
'Tis true, his count'nance did imprint an awe;
And point to beds where fov'reign gold doth grow.
When paft all off'rings to Feretrian Jove,
He Mars depos'd, and arms to gowns made yield; Successful councils did him foon approve As fit for close intrigues, as open field.
To fuppliant Holland he vouchfaf'd a peace,
8 It is faid that at the fiege of Bologna in 1512, a mine blew up that part of the wall of the church of Sancta Maria del Baracano, on which stood a miraculous image of the bleffed virgin. Tho' it was carried fo high, that both armies could fee one another thro' the breach, yet it fell again exactly into its place, so that it was impoffible to fee where it had been separated.
Fame of th' afferted fea through Europe blown,
Made France and Spain ambitious of his love; Each knew that fide muft conquer he would own; And for him fiercely, as for empire, frove.
No fooner was the 9 Frenchman's caufe embrac'd,
When abfent, yet we conquer'd in his right:
For from all tempers he could fervice d ́aw;
How the complexions did divide and brew.
Or he their fingle virtues did survey,
When fuch heroic virtue heaven fets out,
The treaty of alliance which Cromwell entered into with France against the Spaniards, proved of the greatest service to that crown, fince by it Cromwell furnished thereto fix thoufand men, who be haved always very gallantly, and turned the balance in its favour.