" Or there 's no
Purgatory
for the dead ?
Marvell - Poems
The smallest vermin make the greatest waste,
And a poor warren once a city rased.
But th'^ey whom bom to virtue and to wealth,
Nor guilt to flattery binds, nor want to stealth ;
Whose generous conscience, and whose courage
high.
Does with clear counsels their large souls
supply ;
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246 THE POEMS
Who serve the king with their estates and care,
And as in love on paiiiaments can stare ;
Where few the number, choice is there less
hard;
Give us this court, and rule without a guard.
MKD or m wan past.
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OF MARVELL. 247
INSTRUCTIONS TO A PAINTER.
PABT n.
Spread a large canvas, Painter, to contain
The great assembly, and the numerous train ;
Where all about him shall in triumph sit,
Abhorring wisdom, and despising wit ;
Hating all justice, and resolved to fight,
To rob their native country of their right.
First draw his Highness prostrate to the
. south,
Adoring Rome, this label in his mouth, —
'* Most holy father ! being joined in league
** With father Patrick, Danby, and with Teague,
" Thrown at your sacred feet, I humbly bow,
" I, and the wise associates of my vow,
** A vow, nor fire nor sword shall ever end,
^ Till all this nation to your footstool bend.
" Thus armed with zeal and blessing from your
hands,
**I'll raise my Papists, and my Irish bands,.
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248 THE POEK8
" And by a noble well-contrived plot,
" Managed by wise Fitz-Gerald, and by Scott,
^ Prove to the worid, I'll make old England
know,
^ That common sense is my eternal foe.
^ I ne'er can fight in a more glorious cause,
** Than to destroy their liberty and laws ;
*• Their House of Commons, and their House of
Lords,
<< Their parchment precedents, and dull records,
** Shall these e'er dare to contradict my will,
*' And think a prince o'the blood can
** It is our birthright to have power
*♦ Shall they e'er dare to think they shall decide
*<The way to heaven, and who shall be my
guide?
^ Shall they pretend to say, that bread is bread,
" If We affirm it is a God indeed ?
" Or there 's no Purgatory for the dead ?
" That extreme unction is but common oil?
^ And not infallible the Roman soil ?
<^ I '11 have those villains in our notions rest ;
"And I do say it, therefore 'it 's the best"
Next, Painter, draw his Mordaunt by his side,
Conveying his religion and his bride :
He, who long since abjured the royal line.
Does now in popery with his master join.
Then draw the princess with her golden locks,
. Hastening to be envenomed with the pox.
t my will, 1
1 e'er do ill? >
to kill J
}
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OF MAKVELL. 249
And in her youthful veins receive a wound,
Which sent N. H. before her under ground ;
The wound of which the tainted C ret fades^
Laid up in store for a new set of maids.
Poor princess, bom under a sullen star.
To find such welcome when jou came so far !
Better some jealous neighbour of your own
Had called you to a sound, though petty
throne ;
Where 'twixt a wholesome husband and a page,
Tou might have lingered out a lazy age,
Than on dull hopes of being here a Queen,
Ere twenty die, and rot before fifteen.
Now, Painter, show us in the blackest dye,
The counsellors of all this villany.