Now Whitehall's in the grave,
And our head is our slave,
The bright pearl in his close shell of oyster;
Now the miter is lost,
The proud Praelates, too, crost,
And all Rome's confin'd to a cloister.
He, that Tarquin was styl'd,
Our white land's exil'd,
Not a court ape's left to confute us;
Then let your voyces rise high,
As your colours did flye,
And flour'shing cry:
Long live the brave Oliver-Brutus.
Now the sun is unarm'd,
And the moon by us charm'd,
All the stars dissolv'd to a jelly;
Now the thighs of the Crown
And the arms are lopp'd down,
And the body is all but a belly.
Let the Commons go on,
The town is our own,
We'l rule alone:
For the Knights have yielded their spent-gorge;
And an order is tane
With HONY SOIT profane,
Shout forth amain:
For our Dragon hath vanquish'd the St. George.
Read Seamus' informative remark. You don't want to know the thoughts that went through my head while reading this nut at one point I was thinking he was a dirty old man.
And the body is all but a belly! ! Thanks for sharing.
let them sing our victorious, If not them then mountains will, If not even rivers will rejoice, For we are victors.
'Now the sun is unarm'd, And the moon by us charm'd, All the stars dissolv'd to a jelly; Now the thighs of the Crown And the arms are lopp'd down, And the body is all but a belly' - I am greatly amused!
This is all about a ruler ruling his subjects how efficiently, iron handedly, single handedly, effectively depicted here with outstanding words.........brilliantly crafted......10+++
our head is our slave...beautiful mock song
" All Rome confined to a cloister" A beautifully envisioned classic worthy of the classic poem of the Day.
A poem with touching expression. Beautifully penned.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
A bitingly sardonic commentary on contemporary politics, from a poet deeply and personally enmeshed in the politics of a very turbulent time, a time when even publishing a poem could land one in prison. This piece graphically portrays his loyalty to the throne against all thought of a replacement, and God forbid, the thought of common folk ruling themselves.
Thank you very much for the enlightenment, Seamus