lyres. Waller, Dryden, Sprat, and Marvell had no doubt that "Tumbledown
Dick" was to sit on the throne of his father and "still keep the sword
erect," and were ready with their verses.

Westminster Abbey has never witnessed a statelier, costlier funeral than
that of "the late man who made himself to be called Protector," to quote
words from one of the most impressive passages in English prose, the
opening sentences of Cowley's _Discourse by way of Vision concerning the
Government of Oliver Cromwell_. The representatives of kings,
potentates, and powers crowded the aisles, and all was done that pomp
and ceremony could do. Marvell, arrayed in the six yards of mourning the
Council had voted him on the 7th of September, was, we may be sure, in
the Abbey, and it may well be that his blind colleague, to whom the same
liberal allowance had been made, leant on his arm during the service.
Milton's muse remained silent. The vote of the House of Commons ordering
the undoing of this great ceremony was little more than two years ahead.
_O caeca mens hominum!_

Among the poems first printed by Captain Thompson from the old
manuscript book was one which was written therein in Marvell's own hand
entitled "A poem upon the Death of his late Highness the Protector." Its
composition was evidently not long delayed:--

"We find already what those omens mean,
Earth ne'er more glad nor Heaven more serene.
Cease now our griefs, calm peace succeeds a war,
Rainbows to storms, Richard to Oliver."

The lines best worth remembering in the poem are the following:--