IZAAK WALTON AND HIS FRIENDS 223 



To Poet E. W.' 



Occasioned for his tvriting a Panegyric on Oliver Cromwell. 



From whence, vile Poet, did'st thou glean the Wit, 



And Words for such a vitious Poem fit ? 



Where could'st thou Paper find was not too white ; 



Or Ink, that could be black enough to write ? 



What servile Devil tempted thee to be 



A flatterer of thine own Slavery ? 



To kiss thy Bondage, and extol the deed. 



At once that made thy Prince and Country bleed ? 



I wonder much thy false Heart did not dread. 



And shame to write, what all Men blush to read ; 



Thus with a base ingratitude to rear 



Trophies unto thy Master's Murtherer ? 



Who call'd thee Coward ( ) much mistook 



The characters of thy pedantick Look ; 

 Thou hast at once abus'd thy self, and us : 

 He's stout that dares flatter a Tyranne thus. 



Put up thy Pen and Ink, muzzle thy Muse 

 Adulterate Hag fit for a common Stews, 

 No good Man's Library ; writ thou hast 

 Treason in Khime has all thy Works defac't : 



> E. W. is Edmund Waller. "Such a series of verses," it is 

 said by Johnson, "had rarely appeared before in the English 

 language." After the Restoration Waller wrote in praise of Charles 

 11. ' 



