Page:Three Poems upon the death of the late Usurper Oliver Cromwell (1682).djvu/34

 hilstWhilst [sic] we in calm and temperate Regions breath. Like to the Sun, whose heat is hurl'd Through every corner of the World; Whose Flame through all the Air doth go, And yet the Sun himself the while no fire doth know.

Besides the Glories of thy peace Are not in number, nor in value less; Thy hand did Cure and close the Scars Of our bloody Civil Wars; Not only Lanc'd, but heal'd the Wound; Made us again, as healthy and as sound. When now the Ship was well nigh lost After the Storm upon the Coast, By its Mariners endanger'd most; When they their Ropes and Helms had left, When the Planks asunder cleft, And Floods came roaring in with mighty sound; Thou a safe Land, and Harbour for us found, And savedst those that would themselves have drown'd. A work which none but Heaven and thee could do, Thou mad'st us happy whe're we would or no: Thy Judgment, Mercy, Temperance so great, As if those Vertues only in thy mind had seat. Thy Piety not only in the Field but Peace, When Heaven seem'd to be wanted least. Thy Temples not like Janu's only were Open in time of VVar: VVhen thou hadst greater cause of fear Religion and the Awe of Heaven possest, All places and all times alike, thy Breast. Rh