G R eat Stafford ! worthy of that Name, though all
Of thee could be forgotten, but thy Fall,
Crusht by Imaginary Treasons weight,
Which too much Merit did accumulate:
As Chymists Gold from Brass by Fire would draw,
Pretexts are into Treason forg'd by Law.
His Wisdom such, at once it did appear
Three Kingdoms Wonder, and three Kingdoms Fear;
Whilst single he stood forth, and seem'd, although
Each had an Army, as an equal Foe.
Such was his force of Eloquence, to make
The Hearers more concern'd than he that spake;
Each seem'd to act that part he came to see,
And none was more a Looker on than he;
So did he move our Passion, some were known
To wish, for the defence, the Crime their own.
Now private Pity strove with publick Hate,
Reason with Rage, and Eloquence with Fate:
Now they could him, if he could them forgive;
He's not too Guilty, but too Wise to live;
Less seem those Facts which Treasons Nick-name fore,
Than such a fear'd ability for more.
They after Death their Fears of him express,
His Innocence and their own Guilt confess.
Their Legislative Frenzy they repent;
Enacting it should make no President.
This Fate he could have 'scap'd, but would not lose
Honour for Life, but rather nobly chose
Death from their Fears, than Safety from his own,
That his last Action all the rest might Crown.