Londineses lacrymæ Londons second tears mingled with her ashes : a poem / by John Crouch. Crouch, John, fl. 1660-1681. 1666 Approx. 15 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 6 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2007-10 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A35206 Wing C7299 ESTC R29669 11191750 ocm 11191750 46634 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A35206) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 46634) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 1439:13) Londineses lacrymæ Londons second tears mingled with her ashes : a poem / by John Crouch. Crouch, John, fl. 1660-1681. 9 p. Printed for T. Palmer ..., London : 1666. "Chronogram. Vrbs LonDon CoMbVsta sVlt. M. DC. LXVI." Reproduction of the original in the Harvard University Library. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. Gap elements of known extent have been transformed into placeholder characters or elements to simplify the filling in of gaps by user contributors. 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Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements). Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site . eng London (England) -- Fire, 1666 -- Poetry. 2006-08 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2006-09 Aptara Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2006-10 Celeste Ng Sampled and proofread 2006-10 Celeste Ng Text and markup reviewed and edited 2007-02 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion LONDINENSES LACRYMAE . LONDONS Second Tears mingled with her Ashes . A POEM By John Crouch . Non Priamus tanti , totaque Troja fuit . CRONOGRAM . Vrbs LonDon CoMbVsta fVIt . M.DC.LXVI . London , Printed for T. Palmer at the Crown in Westminster-Hall . 1666. Londinenses Lacrymae . A POEM . THou Queen of Cities , whose unbounded fame Shadow'd thy Country and thy Countries Name ! London ! that word fill'd the vast Globe ; Japan Saluted Londoner for English-man . 'T was thy peculiar , and unrivall'd pride At greatest distance to be magnify'd . When thy next * Christian Sister scarce do's know Whether there be another World or no : When the false Dutch more known in Forreign parts , Buy scorn with gold ; Merchants of wealth not hearts . Good Heavens , good in the most severe Decree ! Must London first burn in Epitomie , And then in gross ? Must , O sharp vengeance ! must The Glory of the World kiss her own dust ? Shall then this Mole-Hill , and it's Ants expire By parcels , some by water , some by fire ? Or do great things , like restless Circles , tend From their first point , unto the last , their End ? When neither Forreign nor Domestick Wars , The Distillations of malignant Stars , Thunder from Heaven , nor it's Terrestial Ape Gun-powder , could thy total ruine shape ; Nor the long smotherings of Fanatick heats , Which when they broke out ended in cold sweats : Shall Balls of Sulphur ( Hells blew Tapers ) light Poor London to its fun'ral in one night ? Shall Britains great Metropolis become Alike in both her Fortunes to old Rome ? Whose Seat ( if we believe Antiquitie ) Is full as old , though not so proud as she ; Surviv'd the Cornucopia of her Hills : Time , strongest Towns , as well as Bodies , kills ! But when her Life had drawn so long a breath , Must she be mow'd down by a sudden Death ? Three days undo three thousand years ? O yes , One day ( when that one comes ) shall more than this ; Shall make the World one fatal Hearth , That Day The last that ever Hearth shall Tribute pay ; Though now as just as Law ; ( And they that Curse This Duty , may they want both Hearth and Purse . ) But as in three days our Jerus'lem fell , And gave the World an easie miracle : So three ( O golden Number ) years being gone , Shall spring old London's Resurrection . Now ( dearest City ) let my Pencil trace The scatter'd lines of thy dis-figur'd Face ; Dropping tears as I pass ; tears shed too late To quench thy Heats , and bribe thy stubborn fate ! This dreadful Fire first seiz'd a narrow Lane , As if the Dutch or French had laid a Train . But grant they or that Boutifeu their Roy , Form'd this Cheval for Britain 's envy'd Troy ; These might the stroke , did not the wound dispense , Were but the Vulcans of Jove's Providence . Sin was the Common Cause , no faction freed ; Here all dissenting Parties were agreed . And let the Author of our welfare , be The welcome Author of our Miserie ! Rather than Enemies , who but fulfill Heavens just decrees , more by Instinct then Skill ! The fierce flame gathering strength had warm'd th' Air And chill'd the people into cold despair : With swift wing from it straitned Corner posts , And forth-with Fish-street and fat East-cheap rosts . Sunday ( to scourge our guilty Rest with shame ) Had giv'n , full dispensation to the flame . Now London-Bridge ( expected to provide Auxiliar forces from the other side ) Alarum'd by the fall of Neighb'ring Bells Takes fire , and sinks into its stony Cells ; Blocks up the way with rubbish , and dire flames , Threatning to choke his undermining Thames . Southwark , shut out , on it 's own banks appear'd As once when fiery Cromwell domineer'd . Thames-street hastens it ashes , to prevent All aids and succours from the River sent . The heated wind his flaming arrows cast , VVhich snatch'd both ends , and burnt the middle last . Now the proud flame had took the open field And after hearts were vanquish'd , all things yeild ! Rores thorough Cannon-street and Lombardie Triumphing o're the Cities Liberty . This fiery Dragon , higher still it flyes , The more extends his wings , and louder cryes . Just so that spark of Treason , ( first supprest In the dark angles of some private brest ) Breaks through the Mouth and Nostrills into Squibs , And having fir'd the Author's reins and ribs , Kindles from man to man by subtile Art , Till Rebells are become the major part : Thus late Fanaticks in their Zeal of pride March from close Wood-street into broad Cheap-side . Now all in Coaches , Carrs , and VVaggons flye , London is sack'd withour an Enemy . All things of beauty , shatter'd lost and gone ; Little of London whole but London-stone . As if those Bull-works of her Wall and Thames Serv'd but to Circle , and besiege her flames ! Such active Rams beat from each opposite Wall , You would have judg'd the fire an Animal . VVhen ( strangely ) it from adverse VVindows ror'd : Neighbour his Neighbour kindl'd and devour'd . Houses the Churches , Churches Houses fir'd , While profane Sparks against divine conspir'd . This devastation makes one truth appear , How sanctimonious our fore-fathers were ; How thick they built their Temples , long conceal'd By lofty Buildings , now in flames reveal'd . Then one small Church serv'd many Preists , but they The truth is , eat not rost meat every day . Now the profane , not superstitious Rout ( Whose faith ascends no higher than to doubt ) May , without help of weekly papers , tell Their Churches , to their Eyes made visible . Our Non-conformists ( if not harden'd ) may Scatter some tears , where once they scorn'd to pray . Now the Imperious Element did range Without Controle , kept a full Ev'ning Change. Where the religious Spices for some Hours , Seem'd to burn Incense to th' incensed Powers . At last the flame grown quite rebellious , calls Our Sacred Monarchs to new Funeralls . The Conquerour here Conquer'd , tumbles down As Conscious of the burthen of a Crown . Only the good old Founder , standing low , His Station kept , and saw the dismal Show . Though the Change broke , he 's not one penny worse , Stands firm resolv'd to visit his new Burse . Which by her * Opticks happily was sav'd , And for the honour of the City pav'd . Here a good sum of active Silver rais'd Th' ingenious Beggar , and wise Donors prais'd . All fall to work , assisted by the Guard , To whom , and money , nothing seemed hard . Here fires met fires , but industry reclaims Lost hope , and quench'd a Parliament of flames . Mean time the Neighb'ring Steeple trembling stood , Defended not by Stone , nor Brick , but Wood : Yet was secure ' cause low ; to let us see What safety waits upon humilitie ! VVhen Lawrence , Three-Cranes , Cornhill , lofty Bow , Are all chastis'd , for making a proud show . One Steeple lost its Church , but not one Bell ; Reserv'd by fate to Ring the City's Knell . Now the Circumference from every part The Center scalds ; poor London pants at heart ! Cheapside the fair , is at a fatal loss VVants the old blessing of her golden Cross . Poor Paul the Aged has been sadly tost , Reform'd , then after Reformation lost ; Plac'd in a Circle of Heaven's fiery wrath : The Saint was tortur'd when he broke his Faith ! At the East-End a spacious sheet of Lead ( Rent from the rest ) his Altar canoped ; But from its Coale below strange fires did rise , And the whole Temple prov'd the sacrifice . Altars may others save , but cannot be ( VVhen Heaven forsakes 'em ) their own Sanctuarie ! Then was their doleful Musick as the Quire , When the sweet Organs breath was turn'd to fire . Was 't not enough the holy Church had been Invaded in her Rites and Discipline ? Must her known Fundamentals be baptiz'd In purging flames , and Paul's School chatechiz'd ? She that had long her tardy Pupills stripp'd , Is now her self with fiery Scorpions whipp'd . But when I pass the sacred Martyrs West I close my Eyes and smite my troubled Breast ; VVhat shall we now for his dear Mem'ry do VVhen fire un-carves , and Stones are mortal too ? Let it stand un-repair'd , for ever keep Its mournful dress , thus for its Founder weep . By this time Lud with the next Newgate smokes , And their dry Pris'ners in the Dungeon chokes ; VVho left by Keepers to their own reprives Broke Goale , not for their Liberty but Lives ; VVhile good Eliza on the out-side Arch Fir'd into th' old Mode , stands in Yellow Starch . Though fancy makes not Pictnres live , or love , Yet Pictures fancy'd may the fancy move : Me-thinks the Queen on White-Hall cast her Eye ; An Arrow could not more directly flye . But when she saw her Palace safe , her fears Vanish , one Eye drops smiles , the other tears . VVhere ( Christ-Church ) is thy half-Cathedral now ? Fallen too ? then all but Heaven to Fate must bow ! VVhere is thy famous Hospital ? must still The greatest good be recompens'd with ill ? That House of Orphans clad in honest blew ; The VVorld's Example , but no parallel knew . Cold Charity has been a long Complaint , Here she was too warm like a martyr'd Saint . VVhere are those stately Fabricks of our Halls , Founders of sumptuous Feasts and Hospitalls ? VVhere is the Guild , that place of grand resort For Civil Rights , the Royal Cities Court ? Forc'd to take Sanctuary in the Tower , To show , what safety is in Regal Power ! Not Gog or Magog could defend it ; These Had they had sense , had been in Little-Ease . Chymnies and shatter'd VValls we gaze upon Our Bodie Politicks sad Skeleton ! Now was the dismal Conflagration stopp'd , Having some branches of the Suburbs lopp'd . Though most within the verge ; As if th' ad show'd Their mutual freedome was to be destroy'd . VVhen after one dayes rest . The Temple smokes , And with fresh fires and fears the Strand provokes But with good Conduct all was slak'd that night By one more valiant than a Templar Knight . Here a brisk Rumour of affrighted Gold Sent hundreds in ; more Covetous than bold . But a brave Seaman up the Tyles did skip As nimbly as the Cordage of a Ship , Bestrides the sings'd Hall on its highest ridge , Moving as if he were on London-Bridge , Or on the Narrow of a Skullers Keel : Feels neither head nor heart nor spirits reel . Had some few Thousands been as bold as hee , And London , in her fiery Tryal free ; Then ( with submission to the highest will ) London now buried had been living still . Thus Chant the people , who are seldom wise Till things be past , before-hand have no Eyes . But when I sigh my self into a pause , I find another more determin'd cause : Had Tyber swell'd his monstrous Waves , and come Over the seven Hills of our flaming Rome , 'T had been in vain : no less than Noah's flood . Can quench flames kindled by a Martyr's blood . Now Loyal London has full Ransome paid For that Defection the Disloyal made : Whose Ashes hatch'd by a kind Monarch's breath , Shall rise a fairer Phoenix after Death . FINIS . Notes, typically marginal, from the original text Notes for div A35206-e160 * [ Paris . ] * Mr. Hooke .