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TO THE QUEEN :

AN APOLOGIE FOR THE LENGTH OF THE FOLLOWING PANEGYRICK.'

I

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When you are mistresse of the song,
Mighty queen, to thinke it long,
Were treason 'gainst that majesty
Your Vertue wears. Your modesty
Yet thinks it so. But ev'n that too

- Infinite, since part of you-
New matter for our Muse supplies,
And so allowes what it denies.
Say then dread queen, how may we doe
To mediate 'twixt your self and you ?
That so our sweetly temper'd song
Nor be too sort, nor seeme to[o] long.

Needs must your noble prayses' strength
That made it long excuse the length.

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| Appeared originally in ‘Voces Votivæ ab Academicis Canta. brigiensibus pro novissimo Carolo et Mariæ principe filio emissæ. Cantabrigie: apud Rogerum Daniel. MDCXL' This poem did not appear in the edition of 1646; but it did in that of 1648 (p. 48). Not having been reprinted in 1670, it was overlooked by TURNBULL. Our text is from 1618; but the only variation from the original in • Voces Votiva' is in line 7, “to' instead of for.' G.

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Teildin: the winter alian's lovely briile!
VW sinish thy selt, fuir isle, and 78: spread wiele
They Loomullal's son roume. Thill art opprest
With the Wallies, inil art transly blest
Divinlihy sit: fir (l') then yord, the goals 5
Cimetust nu?1 thee; and those glorious oils
Sivell thy full luua tu i pitih so hich
- its this the best piti.

treilee yllit anda! inil brious! that to thee Tulity a nii ilms which well might be 1

anlynis lalu tir? that thy laves Il gillil with the union of those rares "Toma Carbaliviiled beam would be a sunce Third the phen t'any Nation? Siurr, it for these thull meau'st to find a seat,

15 TH' last herd, () Britain, to be truly (reat.

Inil so thou art; their presence makes thee so : They are the creatnesses Civils, where-e're they go,

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Appitted ita in last queer ; 14fh pp19-33), 1670 (pp. 97-100). Our te is that of lify its lo fire, which corrects TIRNBULL in mary Lohanes its well in error of commu-2011 is of omni-ion; the later siening to do tower than fortellin entire lines, in addiuion to the pulu_ie' of fourtreo linen, So Vites and Illustrations at close of the quelll. l.

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Bring their Heav'n with them : their great footsteps

place
An everlasting smile upon the face
Of the glad Earth they tread on: while with thee
Those beames that ampliate mortalitie,
And teach it to expatiate and swell
To majestie and fulnesse, deign to dwell,
Thou by thy self maist sit, (blest Isle) and see 25
How thy great mother Nature dotes on thee.
Thee therefore from the rest apart she hurl'l,
And seem'd to make an Isle, but made a World.
Time yet hath dropt few plumes since Hope turn's

Joy,
And took into his armes the princely boy,

30 Whose birth last blest the bed of his sweet mother, And bad us first salute our prince, a brother.

The Prince and Duke of York. Bright Charles ! thou sweet dawn of a glorious Day! Centre of those thy grandsires (shall I say, Henry and James ? or, Mars and Phoebus rather ?

35 If this were Wisdome's god, that War's stern father ; 'Tis but the same is said : Henry and James Are Mars and Phæbus under diverse names) : O thou full mixture of those mighty souls Whose vast intelligences tun'd the poles

40 Of Peace and War; thou, for whose manly brow Both lawrels twine into one wreath, and woo

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T. ülisliit, ! Wilt of all 16. With tarpinipsl.

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Th’art pair’d, sweet princesse : in this well-writ book 65
Read o're thy self; peruse each line, each look.
And when th' hast summ'd up all those blooming

blisses,
Close up the book, and clasp it with thy kisses.

So have I seen (to dresse their mistresse May) Two silken sister-flowers consult, and lay

70 Their bashfull cheeks together: newly they Peep't from their buds, show'd like the garden's eyes Scarce wak't: like was the crimson of their joyes; Like were the tears they wept, so like, that one Seem'd but the other's kind reflexion.

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The new-borne Prince. And now 'twere time to say, sweet queen, no more. Fair source of princes, is thy pretious store Not yet exhaust ? O no! Heavens have no bound, But in their infinite and endlesse round Embrace themselves. Our measure is not their's; 80 Nor may

the pov'rtie of man's narrow prayers Span their immensitie. More princes come: Rebellion, stand thou by ; Mischief, make room : War, blood, and death—names all averse from IoyHeare this, we have another bright-ey'd boy : 85 That word's a warrant, by whose vertue I Have full authority to bid you dy.

Dy, dy, foul misbegotten monsters ! dy : Make haste away, or e'r the World's bright eye

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