即将出现的青春，现在必须抛弃他亲爱的缪斯，也不能在阴影中歌唱他的数字在衰弱。是时候把书本留在尘土里，把没用的盔甲上的锈涂上油，从墙壁上卸下大厅的护身。克伦威尔如此不安分，不能停止不光彩的和平艺术，但通过降临的战争催促他的活跃的星，像三叉的闪电，首先打破云层的地方，他的火的方式分开了自己的一边。因为这都是一个人的勇气，敌人或敌人;这样一来，包围就比反对更重要了。然后他在空中燃烧，宫殿和庙宇都崩裂了;恺撒的头终于冲破了他的桂冠。抗拒或责备愤怒的天火的力量是疯狂的;而且，如果我们说句真心话，这个人应该得到很多，他从他的私人花园，他住在那里，缄默而简朴，仿佛他种植佛手柑的最高土地，可以通过勤劳的勇气，破坏时间的伟大工程，把古老的王国变成另一个模子。虽然正义与命运抗争，并徒劳地为古老的权利辩护，但这些权利确实会随着人的强弱而保持或瓦解。 Nature, that hateth emptiness, Allows of penetration less; And therefore must make room Where greater spirits come. What field of all the Civil Wars Where his were not the deepest scars? And Hampton shows what part He had of wiser art; Where, twining subtle fears with hope, He wove a net of such a scope That Charles himself might chase To Carisbrook's narrow case; That thence the Royal Actor borne The tragic scaffold might adorn: While round the armed bands Did clap their bloody hands. He nothing common did or mean Upon that memorable scene, But with his keener eye The axe's edge did try; Nor called the Gods with vulgar spite To vindicate his helpless right; But bowed his comely head Down as upon a bed. This was that memorable hour Which first assured the forced pow'r. So when they did design The Capitol's first line, A Bleeding Head, where they begun, Did fright the architects to run; And yet in that the State Foresaw its happy fate. And now the Irish are ashamed To see themselves in one year tamed: So much one man can do, That does both act and know. They can affirm his praises best, And have, though overcome, confessed How good he is, how just, And fit for highest trust; Nor yet grown stiffer with command, But still in the Republic's hand: How fit he is to sway That can so well obey! He to the Commons' feet presents A kingdom for his first year's rents: And, what he may, forbears His fame to make it theirs: And has his sword and spoils ungirt, To lay them at the Public's skirt. So when the falcon high Falls heavy from the sky, She, having killed, no more does search, But on the next green bough to perch, Where, when he first does lure, The falcon'r has her sure. What may not then our Isle presume While victory his crest does plume! What may not others fear If thus he crown each year! A Caesar he ere long to Gaul, To Italy an Hannibal, And to all states not free Shall climacteric be. The Pict no shelter now shall find Within his parti-coloured mind; But from this valour sad Shrink underneath the plaid: Happy if in the tufted brake The English hunter him mistake, Nor lay his hounds in near The Caledonian deer. But thou, the War's and Fortune's son, March indefatigably on; And for the last effect Still keep thy sword erect: Besides the force it has to fright The spirits of the shady night, The same arts that did gain A pow'r must it maintain.