They look'd that Griffons there they should behold,
And Flying Horses, Wing'd with Angel-Gold!
There Birds of Paradise! There, would appear
Phoenix, scarce seen once in five hundred year!
But, ah! In stead of Gaudy, Armed Birds,
Bed-Chamber Harpies, Kites, and Craven Lords,
A Guard with griping Tallons ready stood,
Those fatal Vespers to conclude in Blood:
Whilst all with sudden Consternations shake,
Thus the Usurper in rough Language spake.
We with our urgent Wants, and rising Charge,
Oft mildly have acquainted you at large,
Supposing well Our Aims you understood,
Not Private seeking, but the Publick Good:
But be it what it will, no more now shall
Our Will and Pleasure question'd be at all;
Since Fate hath put me in the Royal Chair,
Of blasted Reputation I'll beware;
No more I'll wheedle now, cajole, or beg,
Make my own Subjects, for my Right, a Leg:
But those who boldly oft did me oppose,
Proscrib'd, shall all now suffer here as Foes;
I'll make this day prime Offerings of their Blood,
To Aquilla, Our Grandsire, and Our God.
This said, his Guard at once upon them falls,
Turning expected Feasts to Funerals:
In Heaps lay Massacred the Fat and Tame,
The Rich were Criminals, and most to blame,
The Eagle glad his cruel Project took,
Unto his bloody Murtherers thus spoke.