And could but guess, the threads were spun so fine; }
But every purblind fool may see through thine. }
Had Dick still kept the regal diadem,
Thou hadst been poet laureat still to him,
And, long ere now, in lofty verse proclaimed
His high extraction, among princes famed;
Diffused his glorious deed from pole to pole,
Where winds can carry, or where waves can roll:
Nay, had our Charles, by heaven's severe decree,
Been found and murdered in the royal tree,