Classic Poem

What Rage, O Citizens, what fury
Doth you to these dire actions hurry?
What Oestrum , what phrenetick mood
Makes you thus lavish of your bloud,
While the proud Vies your Trophies boast,
And unreveng'd walks [Waller's] ghost?
What Towns, what Garrisons might you,
With hazard of this bloud subdue,
Which now y'are bent to throw away
In vain, untriumphable fray?
Shall Saints in Civil bloudshed wallow
Of Saints , and let the Cause lie fallow?