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Alexander Brome (Александр Бром)

On Sir G. B. his Defeat


PRay why should any man complain,
Or why disturb his breast or brain,
At this new alteration?
Since that which has been done's no more
Than what has been done before;
And that which will be done agen,
As long's there are ambitious men,
That strive for domination.


In this mad age there's nothing firm▪
All things have periods and their term,
Their Rise and Declinations.
Those gaudy Nothings we admire,
Which get above, and shine like fire,
Are empty vapours, rais'd from th'ground,
Whose mock-shine past, they quickly down
Must fall like Exhalations.


But still we Commons must be made
A gall'd, a lame, thin, hackney jade,
And all by turns will ride us;
This side, and that, no matter• which,
For both do ride with spur and switch,
Till we are tyr'd; and then at last,
We stumble, and our riders cast,
'Cause they'ld not feed, nor guide us.


The insulting Clergy quite mistook,
In thinking Kingdoms past by book,
Or Crowns were got by prating;
'Tis not the black-coat, but the red,
Has power to make, or be the head;
Nor is it words, or oathes, or tears,
But Muskets, or full Bandeliers,
Have power of Legislating.


The Lawyers must lay by their book,
And study Lambert more then Cook,
The sword's the learned'st pleader;
Reports and judgements will not do't,
But 'tis Dragoons, and Horse, and foot:
Words are but wind, but blows come home;
A stout tongu'd Lawyer's but a Mome,
Compar'd to a stout File-leader.


Luck, wit, or valour, rule all things,
They pull down, and they set up Kings;
All lawes are in their bosome:
That side is alwaies right that's strong,
And that that's beaten must be wrong;
And he that thinks it is not so,
Unless he's sure to beat 'um too,
Is but a fool t' oppose 'um.


Let them impose taxes or rates,
'Tis but on those that have estates,
Not such as I and thou are,
But it concerns those worldlings, which
Are left, or made, or else grow rich;
Such as have studied all their daies,
The saving and the thriving waies,
To be the mules of power.


If they reform the Church or State,
We'l ne'r be troubled much thereat,
Let each man take's opinion;
If we don't like the Church you know,
Taverns are free and there we go;
And if every one would be
As clearly unconcern'd as we,
They'd ne'r fight for Dominion.

Alexander Brome's other poems:
  1. The Cavalier
  2. The Hard Heart
  3. The Reformation
  4. The Libertine
  5. The Prodigal

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