And now, into her lap the richest prize Fell, with the noblest of our enemies; The Marquis[2](glad to see the fire destroy Wealth that prevailing foes were to enjoy) Out from his flaming ship his children sent, To perish in a milder element; 80 Then laid him by his burning lady's side, And, since he could not save her, with her died. Spices and gums about them melting fry, And, phoenix-like, in that rich nest they die; Alive, in flames of equal love they burn'd, And now together are to ashes turn'd; Ashes! more worth than all their fun'ral cost, Than the huge treasure which was with them lost. These dying lovers, and their floating sons, Suspend the fight, and silence all our guns; 90 Beauty and youth about to perish, finds Such noble pity in brave English minds, That (the rich spoil forgot, their valour's prize,) All labour now to save their enemies. How frail our passions! how soon changèd are 95 Our wrath and fury to a friendly care! They that but now for honour, and for plate, Made the sea blush with blood, resign their hate; And, their young foes endeav'ring to retrieve, With greater hazard than they fought, they dive. 100 With these, returns victorious Montague, With laurels in his hand, and half Peru. Let the brave generals divide that bough, Our great Protector hath such wreaths enow; His conqu'ring head has no more room for bays; Then let it be as the glad nation prays; Let the rich ore forthwith be melted down, And the state fix'd by making him a crown; With ermine clad, and purple, let him hold A royal sceptre, made of Spanish gold. 110 [1] 'Fight at sea': see any good English History, under date 1656. [2] 'Marquis': of Badajos, viceroy of Mexico. UPON THE DEATH OF THE LORD PROTECTOR.