Now Civill Warres a second Age consume,
And Romes owne Sword destroyes poore Rome.
What neither neighbouring Marsians could devoure,
Nor fear'd Porsenas Thuscan Pow'r;
Nor Capua 's Rivall Valour, Mutinies
Of Bond-slaves , Trechery of Allyes ;
Nor Germany (blew-ey'd Bellona's Nurse)
Nor Haniball (the Mothers curse)
Wee (a blood-thirsty age) our selves deface,
And Wolves shall repossesse this place.
The barb'rous Foe will trample on our dead,
The steele-shod Horse our Courts will tread;
And Romulus dust (clos'd in religious Urne
From Sunne and tempest) proudly spurne.
All, or the sounder part, perchance would know,
How to avoid this comming blow .
'Twere best I thinke (like to the Phoceans ,
Who left their execrated Lands,
And Houses, and the Houses of their Gods,
To Wolves and Beares for their abodes;)
T'abandon all, and goe where e're our feet
Beare us by Land , by Sea our Fleet .
Can any man better advice affoord?
If not, in name of Heav'n Aboard !