WALLER.
To FLETCHER Reviv'd.
_How have I been Religious? what strange Good
Ha's scap't me that I never understood?
Have I Hell guarded_ Haeresie _o'rethrowne?
Heald wounded States? made Kings and Kingdomes one?
That_ Fate _should be so mercifull to me,
To let me live t'have said I have read thee.
Faire Star ascend! the Joy! the Life! the Light
Of this tempestuous Age, this darke worlds sight!
Oh from thy Crowne of Glory dart one flame
May strike a sacred Reverence, whilest thy Name
(Like holy_ Flamens _to their God of Day)
We bowing, sing; and whilst we praise, we pray.
Bright Spirit! whose AEternall motion
Of Wit, like_ Time _still in it selfe did runne;
Binding all others in it and did give
Commission, how far this, or that shall live:
Like_ Destinie _of Poems, who, as she
Signes death to all, her selfe can never dye.
And now thy purple-robed_ Tragoedie,
_In her imbroiderd Buskins, calls mine eye,
Where brave_ Ateius _we see betrayed, [-Valentinian-]
T'obey his Death, whom thousand lives obeyed;
Whilst that the_ Mighty Foole _his Scepter breakes,
And through his_ Gen'rals _wounds his owne dooms speaks,
Weaving thus richly_ Valentinian
_The costliest Monarch with the cheapest man.
Souldiers may here to their old glories adde_, [-The Mad Lover.
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