Poem by Alexander Brome

For the General's Entertainment

1.

FArewell all cares and fears, let Gladness come,
Let's all strive which shall most rejoyce;
No more the Trumpet, or the Thundring Drum,
Shall interrupt our peace with noise;
But all their Offices shall be
Inherited by sprightly melody.
Th'inchanting Lute and the melodious Lyre,
With well tun'd souls does make
A full harmonious Quire.

2.

In vain do we our selves, our selves destroy;
In vain do English, English beat:
Contests are cruel, we must now wear joy,
And all in love, each other greet.
Our civil discords now shall cease,
And lose themselves in a desired peace▪
All things by war are in a Chaos hurl'd,
But love alone first made,
And still preserves the World.

3.

The Trophies of the Conquerours of old,
And all the spoyls with which they'r crown'd,
Were all but types of what we do behold,
What they did seek for, we have found.
Here peace and plenty sweetly kist,
And both loyalty and vertue, twist;
Then let our joy rise high, that all may share it;
Let wealth and honour meet desert;
He that wins Gold may wear it.

1. To his Mistress (LAdy you'l wonder when you see)
2. Copernicus
3. The Leveller
4. The Saints Encouragement
5. To a Widow

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