If I have freedom in my love, And in my soule am free, 30 XI. The Downfall of Charing Cross. Charing-cross, as it stood before the civil wars, was one of those beautiful Gothic obelisks erected to conjugal affection by Edward I., who built such an one wherever the hearse of his beloved Eleanor rested in its way from Lincolnshire to Westminster. But neither its ornamental situation, the beauty of its structure, nor the noble design of its erection, (which did honour to humanity,) could preserve it from the merciless zeal of the times: for, in 1647, it was demolished by order of the House of Commons, as popish and superstitious. This occasioned the following not unhumorous sarcasm, which has been often printed among the popular sonnets of those times. The plot referred to in ver. 17 was that entered into by Mr. Waller the poet, and others, with a view to reduce the city and tower to the service of the king, for which two of them, Nathaniel Tomkins and Richard Chaloner, suffered death, July 5, 1643.-Vide Athen. Ox. ii. 24. UNDONE, undone the lawyers are, Nor can find the way to Westminster, Now Charing-cross is downe; At the end of the Strand they make a stand, Swearing they are at a loss, And chaffing say that's not the way, They must go by Charing-cross. The Parliament to vote it down 5 10 For fear it should fall and kill them all. 15 Men talk of plots, this might have been worse For anything I know, Than that Tomkins and Chaloner Were hang'd for long agoe. 20 The kingdom doth begin To think you'll leave them ne'er a cross, 40 Methinks the common-council shou'd Of it have taken pity, 'Cause, good old cross, it always stood So firmly to the city. Since crosses you so much disdain, Faith, if I were as you, For fear the king should rule again, I'd pull down Tiburn too. 45 **Whitelocke says, "May 7, 1643, Cheapside-cross and other crosses were voted down," &c. But this vote was not put in execution with regard to Charing-cross till four years after, as appears from Lilly's 'Observations on the Life, &c. of King Charles,' viz. "Charing-cross we know, was pulled down 1647, in June, July, and August. Part of the stones were converted to pave before Whitehall. I have seen knife-hafts made of some of the stones, which, being well polished, looked like marble." Ed. 1715, p. 18, 12mo. See an account of the pulling down Cheapside-cross, in the Supplement to Gent. Mag. 1764. XII. Loyalty Confined. This excellent old song is preserved in David Lloyd's "Memoires of those that suffered in the cause of Charles I.," London, 1668, fol. p. 96. He speaks of it as the composition of a worthy personage, who suffered deeply in those times, and was still living with no other reward than the conscience of having suffered. The author's name he has not mentioned, but if tradition may be credited, this song was written by Sir Roger L'Estrange. Some mistakes in Lloyd's copy are corrected by two cthers, one in MS., the other in the "Westminster Drollery, or a choice Collection of Songs and Poems, 1671," 12mo. BEAT on, proud billows! Boreas blow! Your incivility doth show, That innocence is tempest-proof; Though surly Nereus frown, my thoughts are calm; 5 That which the world miscalls a jail, A private closet is to me; Whilst a good conscience is my bail, Locks, bars, and solitude, together met, I, whilst I wisht to be retir'd, Into this private room was turn'd: 10 As if their wisdoms had conspir'd 15 The salamander should be burn'd; Or like those sophists, that would drown a fish I am constrain'd to suffer what I wish. The cynick loves his poverty; The pelican her wilderness; 20 And 'tis the Indian's pride to be Naked on frozen Caucasus; Contentment cannot smart; stoicks we see These manacles upon my arm I, as my mistress' favours, wear; I have some iron shackles there; These walls are but my garrison; this cell, I'm in the cabinet lockt up, Like some high-prized margarite, 25 30 Am cloyster'd up from publick sight; Retiredness is a piece of majesty, 35 And thus, proud sultan, I'm as great as thee. Here sin for want of food must starve, Where tempting objects are not seen; To keep vice out, and keep me in ; So he that struck at Jason's life,1 40 Thinking t' have made his purpose sure, By a malicious friendly knife 45 Did only wound him to a cure; Malice, I see, wants wit; for what is meant Mischief oft-times proves favour by th' event. When once my prince affliction hath, I can learn patience from him; Now not to suffer shews no loyal heart, When kings want ease subjects must bear a part. 50 1 See this remarkable story in Cicero de Nat. Deorum, lib. iii. c. xxviii.; Cic. de Offic. 1. i. c. xxx.; see also Val. Max. 1. viii. What though I cannot see my king 55 Neither in person or in coin, Yet contemplation is a thing That renders what I have not, mine ; My king from me what adamant can part, 60 Even then her charming melody doth prove, 65 That all her bars are trees, her cage a grove. I am that bird, whom they combine But though they do my corps confine, Yet maugre hate, my soul is free; 70 And though immur'd, yet can I chirp and sing My soul is free as ambient air, Although rebellion does my body binde, 75 XIII. Verses by King Charles E. "This prince, like his father, did not confine himself to prose: Bishop Burnet has given us a pathetic elegy, said to be written by Charles in Carisbrooke Castle [in 1648]. The poetry is most uncouth and unharmonious, but there are strong thoughts in it, some good sense, and a strain of majestic piety."-Walpole's Royal and Noble Authors, v. i. It is in his Memoirs of the Duke of Hamilton, p. 379, that Burnet hath preserved this elegy, which he tells us he had from a gentleman, who waited on the king at the time when it was written, and copied it out from the original. It is there entitled, "MAJESTY IN MISERY: OR AN IMPLORATION TO THE KING OF KINGS." |