Trafique is Earth's great Atlas, that supports
The pay of Armies, and the height of Courts,
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Be just (Domestick Monarchs) unto them
That dwell as Household Subjects to each Realm;
Let not your Power make you be too severe,
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To my Cosen Mris. Ellinor Evins.E' re I forget the Zenith of your Love,
L et me be banisht from the Thrones above;
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Haile from the dead, or from Eternity,
Thou Velvit Relique of Antiquity;
Thou which appear'st here in thy purple hew,
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Heavens bright Lamp, shine forth some of thy Light,
But just so long to paint this dismal Night;
Then draw thy beams, and hide thy glorious face,
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Poor vaunting Earth, gloss'd with uncertain Pride,
That liv'd in Pomp, yet worse than others dy'd:
Who shall blow forth a Trumpet to thy praise?
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