My soul is free as ambient air, Although my baser part’s immewed, Whilst loyal thoughts do still repair 75 To’ accompany my solitude: Although rebellion do my body bind, My King alone can captivate my mind. _Anon._ CII _A ROYAL LAMENTATION._ Great Monarch of the world, from whose power springs The potency and power of [earthly] kings, Record the royal woe my suffering sings. Nature and law by thy divine decree, (The only root of righteous royalty,) 5 With this dim diadem invested me: With it the sacred sceptre, purple robe, The holy unction, and the royal globe; Yet am I levelled with the life of Job. The fiercest furies, that do daily tread 10 Upon my grief, my grey discrownèd head, Are they that owe my bounty for their bread. With my own power my majesty they wound, In the King’s name the King’s himself uncrowned; So doth the dust destroy the diamond. 15 They promise to erect my royal stem, To make me great, to’ advance my diadem, If I will first fall down, and worship them. My life they prize at such a slender rate, That in my absence they draw bills of hate, 20 To prove the King a traitor to the State. Felons obtain more privilege than I; They are allowed to answer ere they die: ’Tis death for me to ask the reason why. But, sacred Saviour, with thy words I woo 25 Thee to forgive, and not be bitter to Such as Thou know’st do not know what they do. Augment my patience, nullify my hate, Preserve my issue, and inspire my mate; Yet, though we perish, bless this Church and State. 30 _King Charles the First._ CIII _HORATIAN ODE UPON CROMWELL’S RETURN FROM IRELAND._ The 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, 5 And oil the unused armour’s rust, Removing from the wall The corslet of the hall. So restless Cromwell could not cease In the inglorious arts of peace, 10 But through adventurous war Urgèd his active star: And like the three-forked lightning first, Breaking the clouds where it was nurst, Did thorough his own side 15 His fiery way divide: For ’tis all one to courage high The emulous, or enemy; And with such, to enclose Is more than to oppose. 20 Then burning through the air he went, And palaces and temples rent; And Cæsar’s head at last Did through his laurels blast.