_Oh how they’d blush to see our Crimson crimes,_ _And know the Subjects Authors of these times:_ _When as the Peasant he shall take his King,_ _And without cause shall fall a murthering him;_ _And when that’s done, with Pride assume the Chair,_ _And_ Nimrod-_like, himself to heaven rear;_ _Command the People, make the Land Obey_ _His baser will, and swear to what he’l say._ _Sure, sure our God has not these evils sent_ _To please himself, but for mans punishment:_ _And when he shall from our dark sable Skies_ _Withdraw these Clouds, and let our Sun arise,_ _Our dayes will surely then in Glory shine,_ _Both in our Temporal, and our State divine:_ {86} _May this come quickly, though I may never see_ _This glorious day, yet I would sympathie,_ _And feel a joy run through each vain of blood,_ _Though Vassalled on t’other side the Floud._ _Heavens protect his Sacred Majesty,_ _From secret Plots, & treacherous Villany._ _And that those Slaves that now predominate,_ _Hang’d and destroy’d may be their best of Fate;_ _And though Great_ Charles _be distant from his own,_ _Heaven I hope will seat him on his Throne._ Vale. Yours what I may, G. A. From the Chimney Corner upon a low cricket, where I writ this in the noise of some six Women, _Aug._ 19. _Anno_ _To my Honored Father at his House._ SIR, Before I dare bid Adieu to the old World, or shake hands with my native Soyl for ever, I have a Conscience inwards tells me, that I must offer up the remains of that Obedience of mine, that lyes close centered within the cave of my Soul, at the Alter, of your paternal Love: And though this Sacrifice of mine may shew something low and thread-bare, (at this time) yet know, That in the Zenith of all {87} actions, Obedience is that great wheel that moves the lesser in their circular motion. I am now entring for some time to dwell under the Government of _Neptune_, a Monarchy that I was never manured to live under, nor to converse with in his dreadful Aspect, neither do I know how I shall bear with his rough demands; but that God has carried me through those many gusts a shoar, which I have met withall in the several voyages of my life, I hope will Pilot me safely to my desired Port, through the worst of Stormes I shall meet withall at Sea. We have strange, and yet good news aboard, that he whose vast mind could not be contented with spacious Territories to stretch his insatiate desires on, is (by an Almighty power) banished from his usuped Throne to dwell among the dead. I no sooner heard of it, but my melancholly Muse forced me upon this ensuing Distich.