The Answer of Coleman's ghost to H.N.'s poetick offering This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A25502 of text R26644 in the English Short Title Catalog (Wing A3285). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 4 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 2 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 A25502 Wing A3285 ESTC R26644 09519390 ocm 09519390 43415 2264190659

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 Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 2, no. A25502) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 43415) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 1323:14) The Answer of Coleman's ghost to H.N.'s poetick offering 3 p. s.n., [London : 1679] In verse. Caption title. Reproduction of original in the Harvard University Library. eng Coleman, Edward, d. 1678. Neville, Henry, 1620-1694. eebo The ansvver of Coleman's ghost, to H.N's. poetick offering. [no entry] 1679 4 584 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 A This text has no known defects that were recorded as gap elements at the time of transcription. 2012-05 Assigned for keying and markup 2012-06 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2012-08 Sampled and proofread 2012-08 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2013-02 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
THE ANSWER OF Coleman's Ghost , TO H. N's . POETICK OFFERING . RISE Nevil , Rise , and do not punish me , With the vain sight of your Idolatry . You may with equal Reason call upon The good Saint Icarus or Phaeton , Who do the Sacred Name deserve as far , As some who Blush in Roman Kalendar : With like Ambition I design'd to know No other Triumphs but of things below ; And rather labour'd how there might be given , French Crowns , postponing all the Crowns of Heaven . Favour'd in this , because kind Heaven declines My high Intrigues , and baffles my Designs . None with more covetous Zeal pursu'd our Cause , Or fell a more due Sacrifice to Laws . In that sad Day when strangled Life Expir'd , And the just flames my bloody Limbs requir'd , Whilst my hot Soul in hasty flight retires , From Tyburns only Purgatory Fires . Immortal shapes crowd on in Troops to view , My Plotting Soul and stopt me as I flew , Such Spirits who Incarnate ever mov'd In their By-Paths , and never quiet lov'd . The Cunning Machiavel drew near and fear'd , Screek't at the sight of me and disapeard . Shewing how weak all human Plotts are laid , Where Hopes and Souls have always been betray'd . Scylla and Marius wondring at our Crimes , Pittied the near misfortune of our times , Sigh'd at those streams of blood which were to run , And curst our Tables of Proscription . Fierce Catiline our Villany decry'd , To whom the bold Cethegus soon reply'd , How New Rome imitates and yet exceeds In dire Conspiracies our puny deeds ! Great Caesars Ghost with Envy lookt on me , That for Romes sake I aim'd at more than he , To Conquer all the Isles of Britanny , Yet blam'd the Cruelties which were to come , From that Dictator which now Reigns at Rome . Spiritual Dictator ! who more controuls Than he , and claps his Fetters on our Souls ? He told me Old Romes Walls had longer stood , If Romulus had spar'd his Brothers blood . And that Romes happiness grew alwaies worse , When it resembled the fierce Wolf its Nurse . Ah , my good Friend , how clearly do I find , In this new State the faults of human kind . Nothing procures so high a Place above , As universal Charity and Love , Infus'd and manag'd by the Heavenly Dove . Heav'n is a quiet Kingdom which we call Your injur'd Scriptures true Original . There no false Comments on the Text appear , Nor must Trents Spurious Council domineer . Sometime with me , Dear Nevil , you must grant , The Church Triumphant to be Protestant . If against them on Earth Romes malice thrives , 'T is not Romes Cause prevails , but their ill Lives . So Babylon of old vext Israel , And wicked Men raise Enemies from Hell . As once on Earth I did your good attend , So now for Love I am your Ghostly Friend : Let your Soul hate all bloody ways and things , To subvert States and Laws , to murther Kings . Or you are sure to equal my disgrace , And without Mercy , you may name your place . FINIS .