No More Learning

And hasten (not to see his deatli) their own.
Huch tortures all the elements unfixed,
Troubled to part where so exactly mixed ;
And as through air his wasting spirits flowed.
The world with throes laboured beneath their
load.

Nature, it seemed, with him would nature vie,
lie with Eliza, it with him would die.

He without noise still travelled to his end.
An silent suns to meet the night descend ;
Tiic Htars that for him fought, had only power
Left to determine now his fatal hour.
Which since they might not hinder, yet they

cast
To choose it worthy of his glories past.
No part of time but bart; his mark away
Ol' lionour, — all the yfur was Cromwell's day;
Hut this, of all the most auspicious found,
Twice had in open tielil hi in victor crowned,
Whoii up the armed nuxintains of Dunbar
lie marched, and through (h(;p Severn, ending wai*:



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OP MARYELL. IGl

What day should him eternize, but the same
That had before immortalized his name,
That so whoe'er would at his death have joyed,
In their own griefs might find themselves em-
ployed,
But those that sadly his departure grieved,
Yet joyed, remembering what he once achieved ?
And the last minute his victorious ghost
Gave chase to Ligny on the Belgic coast :.
Here ended all his mortal toils, he laid
And slept in peace under the laurel-shade.

O Cromwell ! Heaven's favourite, to none.
Have such high honours from above been

shown,
For whom the elements we mourners see.
And Heaven itself would the great herald be,
Which with more care set foith his obsequies
Than those of Moses, hid from human eyes ;
As jealous only here, lest all be less
Than we could to his memory express.
Then let us too our course of mourning keep ;
Where Heaven leads, His piety to weep.
Stand back ye seas, and shrunk, beneath the veil
Of your abyss, with covered head bewail
Your monarch : we demand not your supplier
To compass-in our isle, — our tears suffice,
Since him away the dismal tempest rent,
Who once more joined us to the continent ;
11



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162 THE POEMS

Who planted England on the Flanderic shore,
And stretched our frontier to the Indian ore ;
Whose greater truths obscure the fables old,
Whether of British saints or worthies told.
And in a valour lessening Arthur^s deeds,
For holiness the Confessor exceeds.

He first put arms into Religion's hand,
And timorous conscience unto courage manned ;
The soldier taught that inward mail to wear.
And fearing God, how they should nothing

fear ;
Those strokes, he said, will pierce through all

below.
Where those that strike from Heaven fetch their

blow.
Astonished armies did their flight prepare,
And cities strong were stormed by his prayer ;
Of that forever Preston^s field shall tell
The story, and impregnable Clonmel,
And where the sandy mountain Fenwick scaled,
The sea between, yet hence his prayer prevailed.
What man was ever so in Heaven obeyed
Since the coraraanded sun o*er Gibeon stayed ?
In all his wars needs must he triumph, when
He coFujuered God, still ere he fought with men :
Hence, though in battle none so brave or fierce,
Yet him the adverse steel could never pierce ;
Pity it s( tijied to hurt him more, that felt
Each wuuikI himself which he to others dealt.



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OP MARVEL L. 163

Danger itself refusing to offend

So loose an enemy, so fast a friend.

Friendship, that sacred virtue, long does daim

The first foundation of his house and name :

But within one its narrow limits fall,

His tenderness extended unto all,

And that deep soul through every channel flows,

Where kindly Nature loves itself to lose.

More strong affections never reason served,

Yet still affected most what best deserved.

If he Eliza loved to that degree,

(Though who more worthy to be loved than

she? )
If so^ indulgent to his own, how dear
To him the children of the Highest were !
For her he once did Nature's tribute pay ;
For these his life adventured every day ;
And 'twould be found, could we his thoughts have

cast,
Their griefs struck deepest, if Eliza's last.