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Though widows and orphans together shall crowd, To gaze as at heaven's dread rod, And mutter their curses, and mingle their tears, Invoking the vengeance of God: Though, while bloated Revelry roars at his board, Where surfeiting hecatombs fume, Desolation and Famine shall howl, and old Earth Her skeleton hordes shall intomb: All ghastly and mangled, from fields where they fell, With horrible groanings and cries, What though, when he slumbers, the dead from their graves In dread visitation shall rise: Yet he among heroes exalted shall sit; And slaves to his splendor shall bend; And senates shall echo his virtues; and kings Shall own him their saviour, and friend!
Because in the Abysse of my dark womb Your cities and yourselves I oft intomb: O dreadful Sepulcher! that this is true Dathan and all his company well knew, So did that Roman far more stout than wise Bur'ing himself alive for honours prize. And since fair Italy full sadly knowes What she hath lost by these remed'less woes.
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