VERSES On the Siege of Glocester, and Col. Massey.
SO stands a Rock (rooted within the main)
In spite of Tempests, whil'st the waves in vain
In curled heaps, which on his bosome beat,
Fall back in foame, and make a faint retreat:
As
Gloster stood against the numerous powers
Of the Besiegers, who with Thunder-showers
Charg'd her old ribs, but vanisht like a storm
With their own losse, and did no more perform
Then Squibs cast in the ayre, which throw about
Some furious sparks, and so in smoke go out:
'Twas not her Trenches which their force withstood,
Nor River purpled with Malignant blood,
Canon, nor Bulwarks rais'd with Martiall art,
That did secure her, but great
Masseys heart,
That was the Fort, no Engyne could beat down,
Nor Mine blow up, more strong then was the Town,
Impregnable as a Rock, they sooner might
Plunder the Fire of heat, the Sun of light,
Then him of vertue; neither could reward
Nor battery of Court-Honours break his Guard,
Nor promises nor threats an entrance got,
But did return as fruitlesse as their shot;
And when the fuell for Defence was wasted,
Even to the last extremes his valour lasted.
For formidable
Essex, from a far
Upon the Mountains (like a Blazing-star)
Appears to the Malignants, and portends
Ruine and Death: but his distressed Friends
With animating vigour he inspires,
And warns at distance by auspitious fires,
As when the Sun with his ascent doth cleer
The Winter Tempests, and recrute the yeer:
'Tis said, The Satyre fled from man agast,
When he perceiv'd his breath with the same blast
To cool and heat; had here that Satyre been,
He might from flames the like effects have seen.
These courage got, and those their courage lost,
And what to these gave heat, to those was frost;
'Stead of Granadoes, Curses now they dart,
With vollies of God-dammees, and so part.
Gloster is freed, her Being and her Name,
Made Monuments (Brave
Massey) to thy Fame;
Her Temples and her Pyramids now turn
Thy Trophies, which were like to be thy Urne,
Whil'st we dispute, which to ascribe to thee,
An active or a passive Victory;
And are in doubt in which thou wer't most brave,
When thou didst thousands kill, or thousands save.
Printed according to Order.