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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=350819" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Marlburyes Fate</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">When Londons fatal bills were blown abroad<br>And few but Specters travel'd on the road,<br>Not towns but men in the black bill enrol'd<br>Were in Gazetts by Typographers sold:<br>But our Gazetts without Errataes must<br>Report the plague of towns reduct to dust:<br>And feavers formerly to tenants sent<br>Arrest the timbers of the tenement.<br>Ere the late ruines of old Groton's cold,<br>Of Marlbury's peracute disease we're told.<br>The feet of such who neighbouring dwellings urnd<br>Unto her ashes, not her doors return'd<br>And what remaind of tears as yet unspent<br>Are to its final gasps a tribute lent.<br>If painter overtrack my pen let him<br>An olive colour mix these elves to trim:<br>Of such an hue let many thousand thieves<br>Be drawn like Scare-crows clad with oaken leaves,<br>Exhausted of their verdant life and blown<br>From place to place without an home to own.<br>Draw Devils like themselves, upon their cheeks<br>The banks for grease and mud, a place for leeks.<br>Whose locks Medusaes snakes, do ropes resemble,<br>And ghostly looks would make Achilles tremble.<br>Limm them besmear'd with Christian Bloud and oild<br>With fat out of white humane bodyes boil'd.<br>Draw them with clubs like maules and full of stains,<br>Like Vulcans anvilling New-Englands brains.<br>Let round be gloomy forrests with crag'd rocks<br>Where like to castles they may hide their flocks,<br>Till oppertunity their cautious friend<br>Shall jogge them fiery worship to attend.<br>Shew them like serpents in an avious path<br>Seeking to sow the fire-brands of their wrath.<br>Most like AEneas in his cloak of mist,<br>Who undiscover'd move where ere they list<br>Cupid they tell us hath too sorts of darts.<br>One sharp and one obtuse, one causing wounds,<br>One piercing deep the other dull rebounds,<br>But we feel none but such as drill our hearts.<br>From Indian sheaves which to their shoulders cling,<br>Upon the word they quickly feel the string.<br>Let earth be made a screen to hide our woe<br>From Heavens Monarch and his Ladyes too;<br>And least our Jealousie think they partake,<br>For the red stage with clouds a curtain make.<br>Let dogs be gag'd and every quickning sound<br>Be charm'd to silence, here and there all round<br>The town to suffer, from a thousand holes<br>Let crawle these fiends with brands and fired poles,<br>Paint here the house and there the barn on fire,<br>With holocausts ascending in a spire.<br>Here granaries, yonder the Churches smoak<br>Which vengeance on the actors doth invoke.<br>Let Morpheus with his leaden keyes have bound<br>In feather-beds some, some upon the ground,<br>That none may burst his drowsie shackles till<br>The bruitish pagans have obtain'd their will,<br>And Vulcan files them off then Zeuxis paint<br>The phrenzy glances of the sinking saint.<br>Draw there the Pastor for his bible crying,<br>The souldier for his sword, The Glutton frying<br>With streams of glory-fat, the thin-jaw'd Miser<br>Oh had I given this I had been wiser.<br>Let here the Mother seem a statue turn'd<br>At the sad object of her bowels burn'd.<br>Let the unstable weakling in belief<br>Be mounting Ashurs horses for relief.<br>Let the half Convert seem suspended twixt<br>The dens of darkness, and the Planets fixt,<br>Ready to quit his hold, and yet hold fast<br>By the great Atlas of the Heavens vast.<br>Paint Papists mutterring ore their apish beads<br>Whome the blind follow while the blind man leads.<br>Let Ataxy be mounted on a throne<br>Imposing her Commands on every one,<br>A many-headed monster without eyes<br>To see the wayes which wont to make men wise.<br>Give her a thousand tongues with wings and hands<br>To be ubiquitary in Commands,<br>But let the concave of her skull appear<br>Clean washt and empty quite of all but fear,<br>One she bids flee, another stay, a third<br>She bids betake him to his rusty sword,<br>This to his treasure, th'other to his knees,<br>Some counsels she to fry and some to freeze,<br>These to the garison, those to the road,<br>Some to run empty, some to take their load:<br>Thus while confusion most mens hearts divide<br>Fire doth their small exchecquer soon decide.<br>Thus all things seeming ope or secret foes,<br>An Infant may grow old before a close,<br>But yet my hopes abide in perfect strength.<br>New England will be prosperous once at length.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Benjamin+Tompson">Benjamin Tompson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=350819" data-title="Marlburyes Fate de Benjamin Tompson" data-description="When Londons fatal bills were blown abroad
And few but Specters travel'd on the road,
Not towns but men in the black bill enrol'd
Were in Gazetts by Typographers sold:
But our Gazetts without Errataes must
Report the plague of towns reduct to dust..."></div>
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