To the memory of that loyal patriot Sir 1. Cordel Kt

Thus fell the grace and glory of our time,
Who durst be good when goodness was a crime.
A Magistrate that justly wore his gown,
While England had a King, or King a Crown;
But stoutly flung it off, when once he saw
Might knock down right, and lust did justle law.
His soul scorn'd a Democracy, and wou'd
No longer stay, then while the Kingdome stood;
 And when that fled, his follow'd it, to be,
 Joyn'd to his King i'th' Hieromonarchy.
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.