124
COWLEY'S POEMS.
Where 's the large Comet now, whose raging flame
So fatal to our monarchy became;
Which o'er our heads in such proud horror stood,
Insatiate with our ruin and our blood?
The fiery tail did to vast length extend;
And twice for want of fuel did expire,
And twice renew'd the dismal fire:
Though long the tail, we saw at last its end.
The flames of one triumphant day,
Which, like an anti-comet here,
Did fatally to that appear,
For ever frighted it away:
Then did th' allotted hour of dawning right
First strike our ravish'd sight;
Which malice or which art no more could stay,
Than witches' charms can a retardment bring
To the resuscitation of the day,
Or resurrection of the spring.
We welcome both, and with improv'd delight
Bless the preceding winter, and the night!
So fatal to our monarchy became;
Which o'er our heads in such proud horror stood,
Insatiate with our ruin and our blood?
The fiery tail did to vast length extend;
And twice for want of fuel did expire,
And twice renew'd the dismal fire:
Though long the tail, we saw at last its end.
The flames of one triumphant day,
Which, like an anti-comet here,
Did fatally to that appear,
For ever frighted it away:
Then did th' allotted hour of dawning right
First strike our ravish'd sight;
Which malice or which art no more could stay,
Than witches' charms can a retardment bring
To the resuscitation of the day,
Or resurrection of the spring.
We welcome both, and with improv'd delight
Bless the preceding winter, and the night!
Man ought his future happiness to fear,
If he be always happy here—
He wants the bleeding marks of grace,
The circumcision of the chosen race.
If no one part of him supplies
The duty of a sacrifice,
He is, we doubt, reserv'd intire
As a whole victim for the fire.
If he be always happy here—
He wants the bleeding marks of grace,
The circumcision of the chosen race.
If no one part of him supplies
The duty of a sacrifice,
He is, we doubt, reserv'd intire
As a whole victim for the fire.
