---

Andrew Marvell - Nostradamus`s Prophecy
Work rating: Low

  For faults and follies London`s doom shall fix,
  And she must sink in flames in "sixty-six";
  Fire-balls shall fly, but few shall see the train,
  As far as from Whitehall to Pudding-Lane;
  To burn the city, which again shall rise,
  Beyond all hopes aspiring to the skies,
  Where vengeance dwells. But there is one thing more
  (Tho` its walls stand) shall bring the city low`r;
  When legislators shall their trust betray,
  Saving their own, shall give the rest away;
  And those false men by th` easy people sent,
  Give taxes to the King by Parliament;
  When barefaced villains shall not blush to cheat
  And chequer doors shall shut up Lombard Street.
  When players come to act the part of queens,
  Within the curtains, and behind the scenes:
  When no man knows in whom to put his trust,
  And e`en to rob the chequer shall be just,
  When declarations, lies and every oath
  Shall be in use at court, but faith and troth.
  When two good kings shall be at Brentford town,
  And when in London there shall not be one:
  When the seat`s given to a talking fool,
  Whom wise men laugh at, and whom women rule;
  A minister able only in his tongue
  To make harsh empty speeches two hours long
  When an old Scots Covenanter shall be
  The champion for the English hierarchy:
  When bishops shall lay all religion by,
  And strive by law to establish tyranny,
  When a lean treasurer shall in one year
  Make himself fat, his King and people bare:
  When the English Prince shall Englishmen despise,
  And think French only loyal, Irish wise;
  When wooden shoon shall be the English wear
  And Magna Charta shall no more appear:
  Then the English shall a greater tyrant know,
  Than either Greek or Latin story show:
  Their wives to `s lust exposed, their wealth to `s spoil,
  With groans to fill his treasury they toil;
  But like the Bellides must sigh in vain
  For that still fill`d flows out as fast again;
  Then they with envious eyes shall Belgium see,
  And wish in vain Venetian liberty.
  The frogs too late grown weary of their pain,
  Shall pray to Jove to take him back again.
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.