Northampton in Flames: OR, A POEM on the Dreadful FIRE  
That Happened there on Monday the 20th. Septemb. 1675.  

COnfused Cries fill all the People's Ears,  
And disagreeing Bells bespeak their Fears;  
Faint glimmering lights on every wall appear,  
And Fire is all they now can see or hear.  
Some from their Shops, more from their Table's haste,  
To meet the Flames, that came themselves too fast:  
A joynt-concern engaged all the Town,  
'Tis Fire alone makes every house our own.  
Where-ere they go, they new Surprises meet,  
And Grief alone's the same in every Street.  
To loud complaints th'amazed people fall,  
And Ruined! Ruined! Still did close them all.   

A thousand hands Straight fight th'enraged so,  
Who thus opposed does but the fiercer grow;  
As when strong Winds th'approaching Seas invade  
A mighty Billow of a Wave is made;  
So all the force they used to stop the Fire,  
Did not Repel, but only raise it Higher.  
Some from the Walls the heated Rafters tore,  
With the same Hands that set them Up before;  
And at the Conquerors feet their houses lay,  
The haughty Flames scorn the ignoble prey:  
And Lion-like the prostrate Spoils, they missed,  
To conquer faster those that did resist:  
The infant-Flames each minute stronger grew,  
Whilst on the wings of a strong Wind they Flew;  
Near did Bistonian Courser swiftlier bear,  
Pampered in Peace the mighty God of War,  
Whilst over the Strymonian banks he scuds,  
And his Strong wind drives on the loitering Floods.  
But Zephyr could not long sustain the freight,  
But breathless lies under th'unequal weight;  
The Flames no more now need the nourishing wind,  
But seem to leave those slower Blasts behind:  
And thus to their full strength and vigour-grown,  
Singly defy all the Remaining Town.   

The full-fletcht Flames as swift as Jove's fires Fly,  
Which in an instant lighten all the Sky:  
Houses of Entertainment and of Trade,  
Are all together in one Ruin laid;  
Shops, Stables, Barns, all Buildings fall so fast,  
You could not say, which was devoured last:  
Not Polyphemus favour's shown.   

The 
●●…an-Inn.  Silver-swan more sweetly sung of late,  
Too sad presage of her approaching fate;  
In deepest streams she wished to hide her head,  
And cursed the time She left her Watery bed:  
For now amidst the thickest Flames she fries,  
And there for want of her own Element dies.  
The 
●●…yon-Inn.  Lion next, when nothing else could fright,  
Prepares himself for the unequal fight;  
Unknowing how to yield, he scorns the Fires,  
And in a generous Sullen rage expires.  
The 
Hind-Inn.  Hind, she heard, and knew her danger near,  
Which came so fast, she had no time to fear.  
The 
●…albot Inn.  Dog was ne'er afraid of her till now,  
Nor all so weak an Enemy could do,  
But now he finds her breath is hotter far,  
Then all th'inveterate o'th' fiery Star.   

And here, my Muse, the spacious 
●arket●●●…  Hill survey,  
Where scarcely now th' Affrighted People stay.  
Some on their backs their aged Parents bear,  
And show their piety's greater than their fear:  
In the same haste AEnas snatched his Sire  
And scarcely saved him from th' pursuing fire.  
With wearied Steps a fearful Mother strays,  
She trembles as she goes, looks backs, and Stays;  
Within her arms her youngest pledge she bore,  
And feared much for her self, for that much more:  
The Child looks on her with his watery Eyes,  
And all those frights he could not speak he Cries,  
My Child (said she ) my only child I fear,  
For none of all thy brethren else appear;  
Thy Father too— But here she Silent grew,  
And durst not speak, but feared the Worst was true.   

They Stayed, and saw, the tottering Chimn●●… fall,  
And heard the Rents of each divided Wall:  
The great Beams burst and throw the sparks on high,  
And Fire reins down from the discoloured Sky;  
It fell so thick, not faster Hailstones pour,  
Which fall with violent force from an impetious Shower:  
These Cinders how they scaped, you could not tell,  
Unless their tears did quench them, as they fell.   

The Richest Goods now Flame o'er all the Hill,  
With Aromaticks which dried Channels fill:  
Th' Arabian 
Phoenix Inn  Bird the scattered Spices takes,  
And of them all a Funeral Pile she makes;  
May she rise new from this her Flaming Nest,  
And th' happy Emblem prove of all the rest.   

What ails my Muse to look so pale,  
All on a sudden how her spirits fail;  
With an uncertain step she now does go,  
And loose Pindariques only flow.  
See! see the Sacred 
All Saints Church  Fires rise,  
See how they mount and show  
Brighter far than those below.  
See how they mount an unmixed Sacrifice!  
The Heavens asunder fall,  
They open, and receive it all.  
The Saints from whom it took its Name,  
Run and catch the Hallowed Flame,  
Which in safe Treasuries they lay,  
For they in Heaven's Records did find a day;  
When it again should fill another Choir,  
And not consuming prove, but Purifying Fire.   

My Muse she fainted, and intranc'd she lay,  
Around her Head the sporting Visions play:  
When lo a Book a mighty Book she saw,  
It was the Volume of unerring Fate,  
The leaves of hardest Minerals were made;  
So hard, that God alone the Lines could draw,  
None else could write, and none obliterate:  
The Book lay open, and all times appear,  
And things not done, as plain as if they were;  
In dreadful Characters which fears create,  
And letters of a vast and fearful Size;  
She reads Northamptons' too unhappy State,  
And all the Terrors of that Flaming Sacrifice:  
She reads the Legends of the dismal place,  
Of Fires, and their violent Rage,  
When sudden smiles adorned her altered face,  
To find such happy Annals for another Age.   

She reads, but as she read, excess of Joy,  
Her wand'ring Spirits did recall;  
Her hopes and fears by turns themselves destroy,  
She hopes all True, yet fears the Truth of all.  
And is it True said she,  
The Fates so soon shall raise that happy day,  
When all these Sister-Streets allied shall be,  
In stately order Vniformly gay.  
And shall the Sacred Roof so glorious grow,  
And there those polished Columns stand,  
In which each golden Cherub sees his face,  
Doubly adorning all the Sacred place;  
And shall all this Treasure flow  
From Gracious canterbury's Pious hand!  
Ingrateful Muse said I, dost thou despair?  
Thou lest of all shouldst doubt his Pious care:  
Did he not make that little that thou art?  
Yet that far more than thy desert:  
Did he not take thee from an homely Cell,  
To place thee where the Muses dwell?  
First Taught thee how, then gave thee where to Live,  
'Tis not His fault but Thine, thy Laurels do not Thrive,   

The careful 
Earl of Northampton:  Genius of the place arose,  
Great in his Courage, great in Grief he shows;  
His mighty Courage dared the Rebel-fire,  
Though Grief did make him sigh, and blow it higher.  
Th' unbounded Flames contract a seeming awe,  
And their unlimited Rage submits to Law;  
For generous heat did his Warm breast inspire,  
And his hot Zeal burnt out that colder fire.  
Obedient flames now creep along the street,  
An easy Conquest unto all they meet;  
●o Cellars their last refuge now they fly,  
And there neglected of themselves they die.  
But though the Town be Dust, its living Fame  
●hall never Die in Loyal Comptons' Name.    

London, Printed for William Cade●…an, at the New-Exchange in the Strande, 1675.