The Westminster Wonder:
Giving an Account of a Robin Red-breast, who, ever since the Queen's
Funeral, continues on the top Pinacle of the Queen's Mausoleum, or Pyramid,
in the Abby of Westminster, where he is seen and heard to sing, and will not
depart the place, to the Admiration of all Beholders.
Tune of, Jealous Lover.
Licensed and Entered according to Order.
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YOU loyal Subjects of this Isle,
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Be pleased to attend awhile,
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To this Relation which I bring;
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You never heard so strange a thing,
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In any former Ages past:
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Queen Mary dy'd December last,
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And Robin Red-breast, to this day,
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Continues singing where she lay.
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Not in the mourning Chamber, no,
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Where Death did strike the fatal blow;
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But in Westminster-Abby, where
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They did a Pyramid prepare,
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Against her solid Funeral;
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This they did her Mausoleum call,
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Where in the Abby it was plac'd,
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With rich and sumpt'ous Beauty grac'd.
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The very Art of Man was try'd,
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To make it richly beautify'd,
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Angels and Cherubins of Gold,
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A sight most glorious to behold.
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This Monument does taper rise,
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A Pinacle at top likewise;
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There is and eke a Wonder too,
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Which I declare is strange and true.
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This is a Wonder strange, I say,
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E'er since that great and solemn Day,
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Of the Interment of our Queen,
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There is a Robin Red-breast seen,
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Upon the very top of all:
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He sings a Note soft, sweet and small,
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Which is most pleasant for to hear,
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When they the Royal Place draw near.
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Sometimes it flies a little way,
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Yet from the place it will not stay,
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But soon returns with speed again,
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Where it does Night and Day remain.
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Upon the Pinacle it sits,
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Spreading the little Wings by fits,
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And in the very midst of Prayer,
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This Robin he sits singing there,
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And is not miss'd; yet we conclude,
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He must fly forth sometimes for Food;
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Which done, his flight he back does take,
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And never does the place forsake.
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The News was carried far and near,
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That Robin Read-breast does appear
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Upon the Queen's Mausoleum still,
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Which does all Men with wonder fill.
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Renowned Lords and Ladies gay,
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And Common People, day by day,
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Upon their hearing this Report,
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They to the Abby still resort,
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Where Robin Red-breast they behold,
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Upon the Pinacle of Gold;
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And 'tis the thoughts of rich and poor,
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The like was never known before.
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A wise Astrologer declares,
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It is a sign that our Affairs
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Will be successful e'ery Spring,
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Which makes the Robin Red-breast sing.
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He learns from these sweet Songs of Joy,
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That Potent France shall ne'er destroy
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The Church, tho' good Queen Mary dy'd,
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For God above will be our Guide.
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