1Those glittering

globes2

of light which grace

2The vast

expansion3

, when they leave their place,

3Or hide their radiant heads, we

ne’er4

wonder;

4

Their place and splendency’s supplied by number5

.

5But should the sun forsake the

line ecliptic6

,

6Then total Nature would be

epileptic7

.

7Just so’s our case since royal Charles did die;

8In horrid, trembling trances now we lie.

9Coy

Asoph8

may her sparkling splendor hide

10Four hundred years, yet we no change abide;

11And if sad

Electra9

may her beauties turn

12Away from us, yet none but

Ilium10

burn.

13But if the sun in darkness be

involved11

14Old Nature’s fabric would be soon dissolved.

15E’en so (ay me) since sacred

Caesar’s12

death

16Our spirits exhale in sighs; we turn to earth.

17Those

oviparous brothers13

, so adored

18By navigators, would be deplored

19By none but them, nor do we care or

fear14

20The one, or both of them, at once appear;

21But if the sun should lose his heat and light

22We should invaded be with Death and Night.

23So since our martyred sovereign’s spirit’s fled,

24Our light and life, our hopes and joys, are dead.

25Nay, should the

poles or axes of the sky15

26Their radiant luster unto us deny,

27Or

Cynthia16

cease to wane or to increase,

28We should subsist; t’would not disturb our peace.

29But should we lose the influence of the sun

30All into

chaos17

instantly would run.

31So since our king’s above—in

glory’s18

crowned—

32Anarchical confusion doth surround

33This fatal

isle19

, and

devils20

here will dwell,

34As

anciently21

, and turn this place to hell.

35Unless our God doth a

second Charles illustrate22

,

36(Which, O deny not!) all our hopes are frustrate.