Classic Poem

Is Lisle and Lucas slaine? Oh say not soe
Who could kill love and valour at a blow?
Just as Minerva's darling clos'd his eyes
Love kissing wept and on his bosome dies
Ah me what horrid Hidra had the hart
Them in theire Deaths thus to unite and part
Mars on the Areopagie once was tried
His vallour sav'd him or he else had died
His Judg and Jurie were the best of Gods
These worst of Men, ô me what ods
Had Joves three sons of everlasting fame
Borne of a mortall and Celestiall flame
Had they bin here this busines to deside
Then these two Noble Gallants had not died
Or had Astreus (lover of the Moon
Of whose bright womb her brighter babe was born)
Had he bin here hee would have tooke delight
To save theire lives that for his child did fight
Then had theire Judges bin the Gods eternall
Or upright Men, nay or the powers infernall
This unambiguous busines to deside
Then this unparaleld friendship had not died
But Jewes, Turks, Atheists Independents all
That Cursed Rabble, made these gallants fall
How could they doe it were they not Amazed
When as the cruell Parcae sat and Gazed
On theire perfections as Lachis drew the thred
What wont you part a sunder then shee sed
They striving in theire lives to imbrace each other
Shee twirl'd and twisted both of them together
Then Clotho at theire constant love did wonder
And in meere pitty pul'd them not asunder
Shee being it seems the Tendrest hearted Lass
Goe Noble Soules shee said and let them pass
But Atropos inrag'd begun to chide
Saying these trew loves knots should be untied
But seeing theire Lives she could not stay to untwist
Let those sit Idling here (she said) that list
How can wee give account unto those powers
That us imploy, in trifeling out our houres
Then scolding at her sisters for theire sloth
Shee with her fatal Cizers snipt them both
Shee then cryed out, alas but hurring fate
Forced her poore Girle, her pitty came too late.
Licaon Tantall tender to this brood
Who fed on Hostagis and Infants blood
Why are they now more cruell then at first
Theyr Drunk with Christian blood yet still they thirst
Doth that ould Vulture and his preying brood
Think to grow young with sucking spritely blood
Oh let them next suck Nessus's poys'und gore
Like mad Alcides let them Rave and Rore
And as they have bin three kingdooms sore annoyers
Let them like him at last be selfe destroyers
Had these undaunted loving Heros died
In former times they had bin Deified
Then theire Renown and love had spread as far
As those two famous Thunderbolts of War
Effigies, Piramids, Collums, Collosses,
Had bin erect to memorise our losses
But wee are now denied, our Just desires
Trew gratefull love in this our age expires
Yet som sad Swan I know there will be found
That for this onely Action will be Cround
That shall beare lovely Lisle, and Lucas name
Unto the Temple of Eternall fame.
When that black Armie after theire short Dreame
Shall floating bee on Stix his Sable Streame
They by the Angrey billowes shall be tost
Till in obliviouns Horrid womb ther'e lost
If he that fired Diana's Phane for fame
Lost both his expectation and his name
If covetous Cambices who presum'd
To rob the Gods till sand his mein consum'd
Or that Fierce Gaule who Delphus ment to plunder
Till firey Phebus routed him with Thunder
If these live now in Honour then noe doubt
Fame shall attend this Sacrilegi'us rout
Who have our Truths defenders over powerd
And Temples, Alters, Victims, all devourd,
But these victorious soules live now above
And gloriously goe on in endles love
Whilst theire faire frames which here did close their lives
Shall live in fame till they in Glory rise.