RADIUS HELICONICUS: OR, THE RESOLUTION OF A FREE STATE  Emori per virtutem praestat, quam vitam miseram atque inhonestam, ubi alienae superbiae ludibrio fueris, per dedecus amittere. Sallust. 

FAme is the life of action. He that will  
Grasp at a world, must not be scared with ill,  
Or any puling Sophistry that may  
Clog a brave mind, or rust it by delay.  
But Gallantry should ramble in the stile  
Of roaring Torrents, overrun of foil  
That worm Obstruction: no Attempts can be  
Beyond true valour's equipollency.  
Beasts were decreed to serve: Man hath a free  
Tenure and birthright of his liberty.  
Custom enslaves us all: Our fathers were  
Blinded, and we born heirs of their fear.  
But our deliverance dawns; and Nature seems  
To joy there is a Seed that dare redeems.  
Hang old Descents, those antique Confirmations  
Of blushing cowardice, the shame of Nations.  
We are those limbs of earth which scorn to stoop  
To that thing Monarchy, or kiss the poop  
Of any lawn-sleeved hrother: Nay, so far  
From worshipping a Meteor or a Star  
In this our Element, we soar above  
Such spheres, own no Superior less than Jove.  
Laws were the curbs of Conquest: thence constraint  
Made them compulsive duties; which our quaint  
Insinuating politics did give  
Soon the feigned name of a Prerogative:  
A mild construction, or a gloss upon  
The cruelty of Domination.  
Thus captived in Succession ran the Times,  
And the long Vass'lage of these Northern Climes  
Linked to one Family and will. But we  
That set them up, have vowed a nullity  
Of that grand pressure: Hence our lives & swords  
Shall be the seals and labels of our words.  
Religion wings the Cause; and he that dies  
In its defence, ne'er sinks, but falls to rise.  
The Creatures, Day, and Elements are things  
We equally partake both slaves and Kings:  
The earth's productions, Rain, and Seasons are  
Bounties predestined to a common share.  
Why should we cramp ourselves? nay, not content  
With the reins of our Civil Government,  
There is a pack which strive even as they please  
To force our souls, and wrest our consciences.  
But faith will not be pinned on any one  
Synod's decree, or man's opinion.  
No, there's a freedom still reserved in all  
For the election of their several  
Professions here: which as a public right  
We're bound to vindicate 'gainst Hells despite.  
And therefore heightened with Camilla's zeal,  
In rescue of a freeborn commonweal  
From the base yoke of bondage, we defy  
All the dependencies of tyranny.  
And by the dint of Arms shall make it plain,  
There is a Truth commands a sovereign.  
Let grovelling Animals submit for fear,  
And bow their necks: we cannot centre there.  
Our Resolutions strike a higher string  
Than Tarquin's Base, Tenor, or Minikin.  
Which time shall ripen, and success befriend:  
The glory of a war is in the end.  
Servility's a plague looked to be known  
When snapped by moors or Tartars: but at home,  
Even in the womb conceived us, is a curse  
Not to be paralleled in death, or worse.  
He then that will not when he may go free,  
Commits a sin against nativity.  
We are not born in fetters; Nature gives  
A manumission to each that lives.  
No Marshals of restraint which may controule's;  
The ties we find are seated in our souls.  
Transgression's checked by Reason; great Crimes by  
An inbred Justicer, Civility.  
These by instinct: the rest we do embrace  
As supernaturals, devolve from grace.  
Adam knew no Star-chamber, (as we see)  
Unless you mean the heavenly canopy:  
And there few Bishops sat. The pride and will  
Of most extortious Tyrannies, are still  
The sinew of our quarrels, which alone  
Compelled us to a Reformation.  
And since we have begun that fatal work,  
we'll perfect our Attempts, maugre the Turk,  
Or any human nay: howe'er, we'll fall  
From brave designs and gallant, if at all.  
Heathens were wont to s●●l their liberty  
With universal ruin: Why should we  
Be less courageous? Though not Roman bands,  
Yet we have Roman hearts, and Roman hands.  
Let envy swell and burst; malignancy  
Curse its hard fate, grow sullen, sick, and die:  
Whiles our triumphant palms spread & increase;  
Like the preservers of a common peace.  
Caesar, and Cromwell: why, 'tis all but C.  
And why not England now, as Italy?  
Rome's Basis was as small, as this whereon  
We hope to raise our Fame's encomion:  
Nay, our encouragements are rather more.  
Smile gentle Fortune, as thou didst before.  
Then Thames as Tybur shall rejoice to be  
Crowned with the spoils of the world's royalty:  
And all the neighbouring Continents implore  
To be embraced under the British lore.  
'Tis but assayed, and finished; tried, and done:  
The act's half perfect, that is well begun.   
R. Fletcher.  
FINIS.