No More Learning

What we might hope, what wonderful effect
From such a wished conjuncture might reflect !
Sure, the mysterious work, where none with-
stand.
Would forthwith finish under such a hand ;
Foreshortened time its useless course would stay,
And soon precipitate the latest day :
But a thick cloud about that morning lies.
And intercepts the beams to mortal eyes,
That 'tis the most which we determine can,
If these the times, then this must be the man v
And well he therefore docs, and well has guessed,
Who in his age has always forward pressed
And knowing not where Heaven's choice may

light,
Girds yet his sword, and ready stands to fight.
But men, alas ! as if ihey nothing cared,
Look on, all unconcerned, or unprepared ;



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OF MARVELL. 145

And stars still fall, and still the dragon's tail
Swinges the volumes of its horrid flail ;
For the great justice that did first suspend
The world by sin, does by the same extend.
Hence that blest day still counterpoised wastes,
The ill delaying, what the elected hastes ;
Hence, landing. Nature to new seas is tost,
And good designs still with their authors lost.

And thou, great Cromwell, for whose happy
birth
A mould was chosen out of better earth,
Whose saint-like mother we did lately see
Live out an age, long as a pedigree.
That she might seem, could we the fall dispute,
To have smelt the blossom, and not eat the fruit, —
Though none does of more lasting parents grow,
Yet never any did them honour so.
Though th^u thine heart from evil still sus-
tained.
And always hast thy tongue from fraud refraincrl,
Thou, who so oft through storms of thundering

lead
Hast borne securely thine undaunted head ;
Thy breast through poniarding conspiracies,
Drawn from the sheath of lying prophecies.
The f>roof beyond all other force or skill.
Our sins endanger, and shall one day kill.
How neai- they failed, and in thy sudden fall,
At oiHH' assayed to overturn us all ?
10



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146 THE POEMS

Our British fury, struggling to be free,
Hurried thy horses, while they hurried thee ;
When thou hadst almost quit thy mortal Ciires,
And soiled in dust thy crown of silver hairs.

Let this one sorrow interweave among
The other glories of our yearly song ;
Like skilful looms, which through the costly

thread
Of purling ore, a shining wave do shed,
So shall the tears we on past grief employ,
Still as they trickle, glitter in our joy ;
So with more modesty we may be true,
And speak, as of the dead, the praises due,
While impious men, deceived with pleasure

short,
'On their own hopes shall find the fall retort.

But the poor beasts, wanting their ^oble guide,
[What could they more ? ] shrunk guiltily aside :
First winged fear transports them far away,
And leaden sorrow then their flight did stay.
See how they both their towering crests abate,
And the green grass and their known mangers

hate,
Nor through wide nostrils snuff the wanton air,
Nor their round hoofs or curled manes compare ;
With wandering eyes and restless ears they

stood,
And with slirill n*i};liiiigs asked him of the wood.



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OP MARVELL. 147

Thou, Cromwell, falling, not a stupid tree^
Or rock so savage, but it mourned for thee ;
And all about was heard a panic groan,
As if that nature's self were overthrown.
It seemed the earth did from the centre tear.
It seemed the sun was fallen from his sphere :
Justice obstructed lay, and reason fooled,
Courage disheartened, and religion cooled ;
A dismal silence through the palace went,
And then loud shrieks the vaulted marbles rent :
Such as the dying chorus sings by turns,
And to deaf seas and ruthless tempests mourns.
When now they sink, and now the plundering

streams,
Break up each deck and rip the open seams.

But thee triumphant, hence, the fiery car
And fiery steeds had borne out of the war,
From the low world and thankless men, above
Unto the kingdom blest of peace and love :
We only mourned ourselves in thine ascent,
Whom thou hadst left beneath with mantle rent,
For all delight of life thou then didst lose.
When to command thou didst thyself depose,
Resigning up thy privacy so dear.
To turn the headstrong people's charioteer ;
For to be Cromwell was a greater thing.
Than aught below, or yet above, a king :
Therefore thou rather didst thyself depress,
Yielding to rule, because it made thee less.



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148 TUB POEMS

For neither didst thou from the first apply
Thy sober spirit unto things too high ;
But in tin'ne own fields exereisedst long
A healthful mind within a body strong.