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On the cold earth lies th' unregarded king,
On the Earl of STAFFORD's Trial and Death.
REAT Stafford! worthy of that name, though all
Crush'd by imaginary treason's weight,
Which too much merit did accumulate :
As chemifts gold from brafs by fire would draw,
* His wisdom fuch, at once it did appear
Three kingdoms wonder, and three kingdoms fear; Whilst fingle he stood forth, and feem'd, although Each had an army, as an equal foe.
Such was his force of eloquence, to make
The hearers more concern'd than he that spake;
Lefs feem thofe facts which treafon's nick-name bore,
They after death their fears of him exprefs,
Their legislative frenzy they repent:
Enacting it fhould make no precedent.
This fate he could have 'fcap'd, but would not lofe
Death from their fears, than fafety from his own,
On my Lord CROFT'S and my Journey into Poland, from whence we brought 10,000l. for his Majefty, by the Decimation of his Scottish Subjects there.
Gentle bell, for the foul
Which are damn'd in our fcroul.
Who having felt a touch
That when we did arrive,
'Gainft the ftream we did strive;
They would neither lead nor drive :
An ear to a friend,
Nor an anfwer would fend
To our letter fo well penn'd.
Nor affift our affairs
With their monies nor their wares,
But only with their prayers.
Thus they did perfift,
It was mov'd there and then
And because they are loth
They must give word and oath,
Thus the conftitution
Condemns them every one,
(Our friend) Molleffon
Thought us to have out-gone
Like the prophets of yore,
And with that wicked lye,
Brought the letter too late, 'Twas of too old a date
To relieve their damn'd ftate.
The letter's to be seen,
But he that gave the hint
Muft alfo pay his fint.
Had it come in the nick,
Had it later been wrote,
On Sandys they ran aground,
On Mr. THO. KILLIGRE W's Return from Venice, and Mr. WILLIAM MURREY'S from Scotland.
UR refident Tom,
From Venice is come,
And hath left the statesman behind him:
Talks at the fame pitch,
Is as wife, is as rich;
And just where you left him, you find him.
But who fays he was not
Six plays, to attend
The farce of his negotiation.
Before you were told
How Satan * the old
Came here with a beard to his middle;
At the noise of a can and a fiddle.
These statesmen, you believe,
* Mr. W. Murrey.