The English Parnassus, or, A helpe to English poesie containing a collection of all rhyming monosyllables, the choicest epithets, and phrases : with some general forms upon all occasions, subjects, and theams, alphabeticaly digested : together with a short institution to English poesie, by way of a preface / by Joshua Poole.

Tyrant,

Whose law is will, By which they governe, spoile and kill. That knowes no bounds, but makes his powers his shores Themselves esteeme, Made for themselves, and all the world for them. Whilst heavens great law, given for their guide appears Just and unjust, but as it waits on theirs. Scruing up the pins of power too high. Not cutting but ravelling out mens lives. He seldome sleeps soundly, having blood for his bolster. His fancy presents him with strange masques, Wherein only feinds and furies are actors. The fright awakes him, and he is no sooner glad that it was a dream, but fears it is propheticall. Having lived in other mens blood, he commonly dies in his owne. As if he had a quarrel at all mankind, killing all he comes near. Who what they cannot gain By fairer language Tarquin like constrain. That can what soere he wills, wills what he can, To whom it is enough to be guilty, to have power to be guilty. Wanton cruelty, knowing no Horizon. Punishing not so much for hate, or anger, as because he felt not the smart of punishment. Pleasing themselves in making others wrack, the effect of their power. Whose liking was his justice. Sporting themselves in pains, and making others praiers the argument of their victories.

Disdaining to obey any thing but his passion, which he calls his mind. Observing no formality but what passi∣on suggests.

To whom the eloquence of hatred, hath given revenge the face of delight. Able to teach Tiberius craft, and Nero cruelty. His will is his God, and power his law. A man that can be as ill as he lists,

And loves to be as ill as he can, and as much as any ad∣vancement can be got by it.

The red eyes of strain'd authority.

That with their humour onely can comply. He keeps a constant kennell of blood hounds, To accuse whom he pleaseth, which will depose more than men an suppose. He leaves nothing to his poor subjects they can call their own but their miseries. Dancing pleasantly at the dolefull Dirty of dying groans Like Devils in flesh, antidate hell in inventing torments. Epicurising on poor mens pains▪ Killing men for their wealth ••s the west indians kine for their tallow.

V. cruel.