K Ballad of the Armada ING PHILIP had vaunted his claims; With an army of heathenish names He was coming to fagot and stack us; Like the thieves of the sea he would track us, And scatter our ships on the main; But we had bold Neptune to back us- His carackes were christened of dames And Drake to his Devon again, And Hawkins bowl rubbers to Bacchus,— Let His Majesty hang to St. James Or at sea he can hope to out-thwack us; To tug at his bullet and chain; Alas! that his Greatness should lack us!— But where are the galleons of Spain? ENVOY GLORIANA! the Don may attack us Whenever his stomach be fain; He must reach us before he can rack us, And where are the galleons of Spain? Austin Dobson. When the Assault was Intended to the City (1642) APTAIN or Colonel, or Knight in arms, Whose chance on these defenceless doors may seize, If deed of honour did thee ever please, Guard them, and him within protect from He can requite thee; for he knows the charms To save the Athenian walls from ruin bare. To the Lord General Milton. ROMWELL, our chief of men, who through a cloud Not of war only, but detractions rude, Guided by faith and matchless fortitude, To peace and truth thy glorious way hast And on the neck of crowned Fortune proud And Dunbar field resounds thy praises loud, No less renowned than War; new foes arise, Milton. N The Riddle (Written in 1644) O more, no more, We are already pin'd, And yet our sufferings have been Less than our sin. Come, long-desired Peace, we thee implore, One body jars, And with itself does fight; War meets with wars, And might resisteth might; And both sides say they love the king, And peace will bring. Yet since these fatal civil broils begun, Strange riddle! both have conquered, neither won. One God, one king, One true religion still, In every thing One law both should fulfil: All these both sides do still pretend That they defend; Yet to increase the king and kingdom's woes, Which side soever wins, good subjects lose. The king doth swear That he doth fight for them; And they declare They do the like for him: Both say they wish and fight for peace, Yet wars increase. So between both, before our wars be gone, Since 't is our curse To fight we know not why, 'Tis worse and worse The longer thus we lie. For war itself is but a nurse To make us worse; Come, blessed Peace! we once again implore, And let our pains be less, or power more. Alexander Brome ד The Battle of Naseby By Obadiah Bind-their- Kings-in-chains- and - their - Regiment (1645) H! wherefore come ye forth, in triumph from the North, With your hands, and your feet, and your raiment all red? And wherefore doth your rout send forth a joyous shout? And whence be the grapes of the wine-press which ye tread? Oh evil was the root, and bitter was the fruit, And crimson was the juice of the vintage that we trod; For we trampled on the throng of the haughty and the strong, Who sate in the high places, and slew the saints of God. It was about the noon of a glorious day in June, That we saw their banners dance, and their cuirasses shine, And the Man of Blood was there, with his long essenced And Astley, and Sir Marmaduke, and Rupert of the Like a servant of the Lord, with his Bible and his sword, Among the godless horsemen upon the tyrant's right. |