(Your Christ would have it so be done.)
Your other self 's torn off and gone.
Gone! said I? Yes, and that's the worst:
Your Wife's but gone to Heaven first. . . .
And who would live that God makes fit
To die and then gives a permit?
And who would choose a world of fears,
Ready to fall about their ears,
That might get up above the spheres
And leave the region of dread thunder
To them that love the world that 's under,
Where canker'd breasts with envy broil,
And smooth tongues are but dipt in oil,
And Cain's club only doth lie by
For want of opportunity?
Yea, who would live among catarrhs,
Contagions, pains, and strifes, and wars,
That might go up above the stars,
And live in health and peace and bliss,
Had in that world but wish'd in this?
This phoenix built her nest of spice,
Like to the Birds of Paradise;
Which when a fever set on fire,
Her soul took wing and soared higher,
But left choice ashes here behind,
Christ will for resurrection find.
A Herd of Planters on the ground,
O'er-whelm'd with Punch, dead drunk, we found;
Others were fighting and contending;
Some burnt their Cloaths to save the mending.
A few, whose Heads by frequent use
Could better bare the potent Juice,
Gravely debated State Affairs,
Whilst I most nimbly trip'd up Stairs,
Leaving my Friend discoursing oddly
And mixing things Prophane and Godly,
Just then beginning to be Drunk
As from the Company I slunk.
To every Room and Nook I crept,
In hopes I might have somewhere slept;
But all the bedding was possest
By one or other drunken Guest.
But after looking long about
I found an antient Corn-loft out,
Glad that I might in quiet sleep
And there my bones unfractur'd keep.
I lay'd me down, secure from Fray,
Had fairly this time slipt his Halter,
And, not content all Night to stay
Ty'd up from Fodder, ran away:
After my Guide to ketch him ran,
And so I lost both Horse and Man.
Which Disappointment, tho' so great,
Did only Mirth and Jests create,
Till one more Civil than the rest,
In Conversation for the best,
Observing that for want of Rhoan
I should be left to walk alone,
Most readily did me intreat
To take a Bottle at his Seat,
A Favour at that time so great
I blest my kind propitious Fate.
And, finding soon a fresh supply
Of Cloaths from Stoar-house kept hard by,
I mounted streight on such a Steed
Did rather curb than whipping need,
And, straining at the usual rate,
With spur of Punch which lay in Pate,
E'er long we lighted at the Gate,
Where, in an antient Cedar House,
Dwelt my new Friend, a Cokerouse;
Whose Fabrick, tho' 't was built of Wood,
Had many Springs and Winters stood,
When sturdy Oaks and lofty Pines
Were level'd with Musmelion Vines,
SONG OF LOVEWELL'S FIGHT
Of worthy Captain LOVEWELL I purpose now to sing,
How valiantly he served his country and his King:
He and his valiant soldiers did range the woods full wide,
And hardships they endured to quell the Indian's pride.
'T was nigh unto Pigwacket, on the eighth day of May,
They spied a rebel Indian soon after break of day;
He on a bank was walking, upon a neck of land
Which leads into a pond, as we 're made to understand.
Our men resolv'd to have him, and travell'd two miles round
Until they met the Indian, who boldly stood his ground.
Then speaks up Captain LOVEWELL: "Take you good heed," says he; "This rogue is to decoy us, I very plainly see.
"The Indians lie in ambush, in some place nigh at hand,
In order to surround us upon this neck of land;
Therefore we 'll march in order, and each man leave his pack,
That we may briskly fight them when they make their attack."
They came unto this Indian, who did them thus defy:
As soon as they came nigh him, two guns he did let fly,
Which wounded Captain LOVEWELL and likewise one man more;
But when this rogue was running, they laid him in his gore.
Then, having scalp'd the Indian, they went back to the spot
Where they had laid their packs down, but there they found them not,
For the Indians, having spy'd them when they them down did lay,
Did seize them for their plunder and carry them away.
These rebels lay in ambush this very place hard by,
So that an English soldier did one of them espy
And cried out, "Here's an Indian!" With that they started out
As fiercely as old lions, and hideously did shout.
With that our valiant English all gave a loud huzza,
To shew the rebel Indians they fear'd them not a straw.
So now the fight began; and as fiercely as could be
The Indians ran up to them, but soon were forced to flee.
Then spake up Captain LOVEWELL when first the fight began,
"Fight on, my valiant heroes! you see they fall like rain!"
For, as we are inform'd, the Indians were so thick
A man could scarcely fire a gun and not some of them hit.
Then did the rebels try their best our soldiers to surround,
But they could not accomplish it, because there was a pond
To which our men retreated and covered all the rear:
The rogues were forc'd to flee them, altho' they skulked for fear.
Two logs there were behind them that close together lay:
Without being discovered they could not get away;
Therefore our valiant English they travell'd in a row,
And at a handsome distance, as they were wont to go.
'T was ten o'clock in the morning when first the fight begun,
And fiercely did continue until the setting sun,
Excepting that the Indians, some hours before 't was night,
Drew off into the bushes and ceas'd a while to fight.
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