AN
ELEGY
On the DEATH of
William Lord RUSSEL,
Who was Beheaded for High-Treason, in Lincolns-Inn-Fields, July the 21st. 1683.
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TO sigh when Rebels fall, or shed a Tear,
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Must, doubtless, make Me Criminal appear;
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Not that I love thy Treason, but thy Name,
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Which all ador'd, and in the Book of Fame
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Gave thee a place befitting thy Deserts;
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But now thou wound'st all loyal honest Hearts
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Who shall we trust, if such as You Rebel?
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So the great Lucifer from Heaven fell.
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RUSSEEL with Hell and Furies too combine!
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To kill the KING and all the Royal Line!
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Ah me! it is too true! His now lost Head
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Confirms whatever has on him been said.
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O that I live to hear the fatal sound,
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Whose very accent does my Heart-strings wound!
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Is this your Loyalty; Is this your Zeal,
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To damn your Soul for a curs'd Commonweal?
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Though once I lov'd Thee, now I hate thy Name,
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And thus I'll rend it from the Book of Fame,
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That future Ages, when they read thy shame,
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May praise Heav'ns Justice, and abhor thy Name.
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Who, but a Monster, could Rebellious prove
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To such Indulgence, Clemency and Love,
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As our Dread Sov'reign evermore bestows
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Upon his Friends, nay on his very Foes,
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Which slew his Father, and would Him Depose?
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O that our Island should such Monsters breed,
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Which, Nero-like, delight to see her bleed!
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Look down just Heav'n, with Vengeance upon those
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That are our Sov'reigns and our Churches Foes,
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And as thou hast, still all their Plots disclose:
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O let 'em not, although with Hell they joyn,
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E'r be successful in their damn'd Design,
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Whose only aim was to find out a way
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To turn our Sion to Acaldema,
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And make all Loyal honest men their Prey.
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Is't thus you would defend the King & Laws?
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Confusion seize you, and your Good Old Cause,
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And save our Sov'reign from your Bloody Paws.
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Unpity'd, therefore, let each Traytor die,
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While all that Loyal are, Amen do cry.
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EPITAPH.
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HEre under lies a Rebel, whose Design
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Was to have murder'd all the Royal Line,
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But was prevented by the Power-Divine:
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The great Opposer of our Sov'reigns Laws,
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Who dy'd a Martyr for the Good Old Cause.
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May Heaven still defend the King and Throne,
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And may such cursed Rebels e'ry one
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Meet the same Fate; then would our Isle be blest
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With Peace and Plenty, and a Halcyon-rest.
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