ON THE RELIGIOUS MEMORY OF

MRS. CATHARINE THOMSON,
MY CHRISTIAN FRIEND, DECEASED DECEMBER 16, 1646.
WHEN Faith and Love, which parted from thee never,

Had ripened thy just soul to dwell with God,
Meekly thou didst resign this earthly load

Of death, called life; which us from life doth sever.
Thy works, and alms, and all thy good endeavour,

Stayed not behind, nor in the grave were trod;
But, as Faith pointed with her golden rod,

Followed thee up to joy and bliss for ever.
Love led them on; and Faith, who knew them best

Thy hand-maids, clad them o'er with purple beams 10

And azure-wings, that up they flew so drest,
And spake the truth of thee on glorious themes

Before the Judge; who thenceforth bid thee rest,
And drink thy fill of pure immortal streams.

-O

TO THE LORD GENERAL FAIRFAX.
FAIRFAX! whose name in arms through Europe rings,

Filling each mouth with envy or with praise,
And all her jealous monarchs with amaze

And rumours loud, that daunt remotest kings;
Thy firm unshaken virtue ever brings

Victory home, though new rebellions raise
Their Hydra heads, and the false North displays

Her broken league to imp their serpent wings.
O! yet a nobler task awaits thy hand,

(For what can war, but endless war still breed ?)

Till truth and right from violence be freed,
And public faith cleared from the shameful brand

Of public fraud. In vain doth Valour bleed,
While Avarice and Rapine share the land.

10

-0

TO THE LORD GENERAL CROMWELL. CROMWELL! our chief of men, who through a clou

Not of war only, but detractions rude,

Guided by faith and matchless fortitude,

To peace and truth thy glorious way hast ploughed,
And on the neck of crowned Fortune proud

Hast reared God's trophies, and his work pursued;
While Darwen stream, with blood of Scots imbrued,

And Dunbar field resounds thy praises loud,
And Worcester's laureate wreath. Yet much remains

To conquer still; Peace hath her victories

No less renowned than War: new foes arise
Threatening to bind our souls with secular chains :

Help us to save free conscience from the paw
Of hireling wolves, whose gospel is their maw.

10

TO SIR HENRY VANE, THE YOUNGER.

VANE! young in years, but in sage counsel old,

Than whom a better senator ne'er held
The helm of Rome, when gowns, not arms, repelled

The fierce Epirot and the African bold, -
Whether to settle peace, or to unfold

The drift of hollow states hard to be spelled;
Then to advise how War may, best upheld,

Move by her two main nerves, iron and gold,
In all her equipage : besides to know

Both spiritual power and civil, what each means,

What severs each, thou hast learned, which few have done: The bounds of either sword to thee we owe:

Therefore on thy firm hand Religion leans
In peace, and reckons thee her eldest son.

1Ο

0

ON THE LATE MASSACRE IN PIEMONT.

AVENGE, O Lord! thy slaughtered saints, whose bones

Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold;
Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old,
When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones,

ON THE LATE MASSACRE IN PIEMONT.
Avenge, O Lord! thv slaughtered saints, whose bones

Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold;

Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old,
When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones,
I orgot not...

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