In Commemoration of Mr. Christopher Love, who was beheaded on Tower-hill the 22. of August. 1651.  

1.  
Why should I call the sacred Muses, and  
Implore the aid of their assisting hand?  
Why should I ask a rapid eagle's quill,  
Since with my tears I could whole volumes fill?  
Which like a flowing springtide freely rise  
From the exuberous Fountains of mine Eyes.   

2.  
What do I dream, or are my senses fled,  
Or is't a real truth, that LOVE is dead?  
(Oh) too too true, alas, how could it be  
LOVE should survive, when men want charity?  
Zion laments, our Joy, our Peace in fled,  
All things at variance fall, and LOVE is dead.   

3.  
What slay a Prophet? that's a Fact indeed,  
A Land destroying Sin, London take heed:  
For such preposterous Courses will undo  
The thy Associates, and this Kingdom too;  
If once God's Messengers are abused, we  
To stay destruction, have no remedy.   

4.  
It is no wonder Tigers should pursue  
Such harmless Preys, as he who never knew  
What Treason meant: Some at the Action smiled,  
Herod and Pilate then were reconciled;  
They all adjudged him Jointly yet each Cry,  
Who is it that condemned him? 'tis not I.   

5.  
Are these the Men whose fair pretences made  
The better Sort rejoice, the worse afraid;  
Who hold the equal Beam of Justice Scale,  
And say ●hey seek nought but the Common-Weal?  
Me thinks 'tis strange, that Lambs should Lions prove,  
And Saints be at such enmity with LOVE.   

6.  
Did he not rather choose to sacrifice  
His Life, then wound his Conscience: and despise  
A Death for Jesus sake, while he supposes,  
Himself called to Mount Nebo, as was Moses:  
How little need was there of Armed Troops  
To environ him, whose God was all his hopes.   

7.  
How willingly he took his saviour's yoke,  
How Boldly and courageously he spoke;  
With what unmoved constancy he laid,  
His Neck upon the Block, no whit dismayed?  
Spectators were ashamed that they should be  
Far more oppressed with sorrow, then was he.   

8.  
Passion prevails, I cannot speak the rest,  
With such a weight of Grief my heart's oppressed:  
However surely 'twas a fatal blow,  
And may procure a sudden overthrow  
To the chief Actors: Samson's last fall flew more  
Philistians then all his Life before.   

9  
Why did not Heaven and E●rth at this agree,  
To let us know some strange Catastrophe?  
Why did the Sun move, or the spheres not cease  
Their furious Motion, at this Saints Decease?  
Since Thunder claps, and fable mourning Skies  
Did celebrate his funeral Obsequies.   

10.  
(Oh) stupid men, Petitions would not save  
His Life from Foes, nor yet him from the Grave:  
Nor was his Age, or spotless innocence,  
Enough to guard him from the violence  
Of those whose Will's a Law, and die he must;  
To satisfy some men's ambitious Lust.   

11.  
Was not his Accusation high and Large,  
Witnesses disagreed about his Charge;  
Was there not some suborned hired to swear  
Against him falsely, whom for aught I can hear  
May hang like Judas, since they could dispense  
To sell him though for more than thirty pence.   

12.  
His Life was made a Prey, to some whose guise  
Of Justice would not serve to blind the wife,  
Who well perceived the Cause: but 'tis no News,  
Pilate did thus to gratify the Jews;  
Wherefore judge ye, if proud Mars hath not driven  
With his keen Sword, Astrea unto Heaven.   

13.  
Come hither Stoic, here is that will make  
Thy tears prove passion, for this martyr's sake;  
For such indeed's our loss, that we might borrow  
The Copy of an everlasting Sorrow:  
Since he is cut off, whose very Name of right  
Should not be named without an epithet.   

14.  
But stay O Muse, and do not thou disturb  
His Sacred Ashes while they sleep, but curb  
Passion by reason: Let faith make thee know,  
He joys above, while we lament below;  
That fair though fatal blow, his Soul hath sent  
A silent Victim to the Firmament.   

15.  
Thus one of zions pillars was betrayed  
To Dust and Ashes: thereby happy made;  
Was by some envious critics taken from  
Those hideous troubles which are like to come  
Upon the Earth: And now in Heaven he Sings  
Melodious Anthems, to the King of Kings.   
Exurgat Deus & discipientur inimici. FINIS.