Newes from the Dead/I'le stretch my Muse
I'le stretch my Muse, but that a verse
I'le hang upon thy living hearse.
Chime in yee witts, and rhyme a Knell,
For Death herselfe is lately fell.
Never was yet this meagre fiend,
Soe baffled by the woman kind.
Nan playes a prize with death, shee mounts
The stage, and there brave soule recounts
Her former prancks, and then Comes on
The Fury with her hempen thong;
As boldly she enters the list,
And though by one unhappy twist,
Her thread of life did snap in twaine,
Yet by this foile she lives againe.
And doth defie the fatall Spinster,
And all the brood of Pluto's Minster.
Have you not known how variously
A vapour betwixt Earth and Skye
Doth dance, till by contrary flame
It's frighted to its forme againe?
Thus Meteor-like, shee hung betweene;
(Was't not a wonder to be seene)
But th' burning-feaver of the rope,
Which puts all others out of hope,
Restores her to her to selfe; shee is
Alive by Antiperistasis.
But soft! Physitians doe not thinke,
I at your commendations winke.
'Tis you against the Fatall Vote
Gave this first heard of Antidote.
Had sage Hippocrates this seene,
His leading Theme had alter'd beene;
For such the wonder is, that you
Have made Art long, and Life so too.
Who will not rather henceforth cry
Pray let me be Anatomy?
What foole will feare an after-slaughter,
Since you have raised up this Daughter?
Clergy looke to it, for since shee
Was rob'd the benefit of thee,
Physitians straight did part the strife
And writte her in the booke of life.
In India say Authors good,
A tree doth beare cloath, drinke and foode.
A wonder sure! but is't not much
The Gallow-tree should bring forth such?
Startle not reader in beleife,
'Tis made not only Tree of life;
But by Phisitians Chymick paines
Unto her both Repute, and Gaines.
Soe that hereafter it will be
Thus to be hang'd, good huswifrie.