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Those glittering globes2 of light which grace
The vast expansion3, when they leave their place,
Or hide their radiant heads, we ne’er4 wonder;
Their place and splendency’s supplied by number5.
But should the sun forsake the line ecliptic6,
Then total Nature would be epileptic7.
Just so’s our case since royal Charles did die;
In horrid, trembling trances now we lie.
Coy Asoph8 may her sparkling splendor hide
Four hundred years, yet we no change abide;
And if sad Electra9 may her beauties turn
Away from us, yet none but Ilium10 burn.
But if the sun in darkness be involved11
Old Nature’s fabric would be soon dissolved.
E’en so (ay me) since sacred Caesar’s12 death
Our spirits exhale in sighs; we turn to earth.
Those oviparous brothers13, so adored
By navigators, would be deplored
By none but them, nor do we care or fear14
The one, or both of them, at once appear;
But if the sun should lose his heat and light
We should invaded be with Death and Night.
So since our martyred sovereign’s spirit’s fled,
Our light and life, our hopes and joys, are dead.
Nay, should the poles or axes of the sky15
Their radiant luster unto us deny,
Or Cynthia16 cease to wane or to increase,
We should subsist; t’would not disturb our peace.
But should we lose the influence of the sun
All into chaos17 instantly would run.
So since our king’s above—in glory’s18 crowned—
Anarchical confusion doth surround
This fatal isle19, and devils20 here will dwell,
As anciently21, and turn this place to hell.
Unless our God doth a second Charles illustrate22,
(Which, O deny not!) all our hopes are frustrate.