Classic Poem

AN EPITAPH

When He had shewn the world, that He was King
Of all those Vertues that can Honour bring;
And by His Princely Graces made it known,
That Rule was so inherently His Own,
That His great Parts might justly Him prefer
Not to two Isles, but the worlds Emperor.
When His large Soul in sufferings had out-shin'd
All Jobs vast Patience: and in His clear Mind
Had rivall'd Solomons Wisdom, but out gone
His Temperance, in His most tempting Throne.
When by a Noble Christian Fortitude,
He had serenely tryumph'd o're all rude
And barbarous Indignities that men
(Inspir'd from Hell) could act by hand or pen.
When He to save the Church had shed His blood,
And dy'd for being (onely) Wise and Good:
When His three Kingdoms in a well-weigh'd sense
He'd rather lose, than a good Conscience:
As knowing, 'twas a far more glorious thing
To dye a MARTYR, than to live a KING.
When He had copy'd out in every Line,
Our Saviours Passion (bating the Divine)
Nay, even His Prayers and Gospel, if we look
Impartially upon his peerlesse Book;
A Book so rarely good, we read in one
The Psalms and Proverbs, David-Solomon ;
With all that high-born Charity, which shines
Quite through the great Apostles sacred lines:
That, spight of rage, next future Ages shall
Hold it (with Reverence stamp'd) Canonical.
When Herod, Judas, Pilate , and the Jews ,
Scots, Cromwell, Bradshaw , and the shag-haird Mews
Had quite out-acted, and by their damn'd Cry
Of injur'd Justice, lessened Crucifie:
When He had prov'd, that since the world began,
So many Tears were never shed for Man:
Since so belov'd he fell, that with pure grief
His Subjects dy'd, 'cause he was reft of Life:
When to convince the Heretick worlds base thought,
His Royal Bloud true miracles had wrought:
When it appear'd, He to this world was sent,
The Glory of KINGS, but Shame of PARLIAMENT:
The stain of th' English , that can never dye;
The Protestants perpetual Infamy:
When He had rose thus, Truths great Sacrifice,
Here CHARLES the First, and CHRIST the second lyes.