As wands of divination downward draw, [grow. And point to beds where fovereign gold doth
When paft all offerings to Feretrian Jove,
He Mars depof'd, and arms to gowns made Successful councils did him foon approve [yield; As fit for close intrigues, as open field.
To fuppliant Holland he vouchfaf'd a peace, Our once bold rival of the British main, Now tamely glad her unjust claim to cease, And buy our friendship with her idol, gain.
Fame of th' afferted fea through Europe blown, Made France and Spain ambitious of his love; Each knew that fide muft conquer he would own; And for him fiercely, as for empire, ftrove
No fooner was the Frenchman's caufe embrac'd, Than the light Monfieur the grave Don outweigh'd;
His fortune turn'd the scale where'er 'twas caft; Though Indian mines were in the other laid.
When abfent, yet we conquer'd in his right:
For though fome meaner artift's kill were
shown
In mingling colours, or in placing light;
Yet ftill the fair defignment was his own.
For from all tempers he could fervice draw;
The worth of each, with its alloy, he knew,
And, as the confidant of nature, faw
How the complexions did divide and brew.
Or be their fingle virtues did survey,
By intuition in his own large breast, Where all the rich ideas of them lay,
That were the rule and measure to the rest.
When fuch heroic virtue heaven fets out,
The ftars, like commons, fullenly obey; Because it drains them when it comes about, And therefore is a tax they feldom pay.
From this high spring our foreign conquests flow, Which yet more glorious triumphs do portend; Since their commencement to his arms they owe, If fprings as high as fountains may ascend.
He made us freemen of the continent,
Whom nature did like captives treat before;
To nobler preys the English lion fent,
And taught him first in Belgian walks to roar.
The old unquestion'd pirate of the land, [heard; Proud Rome with dread the fate of Dunkirk And trembling wifh'd behind more Alps to stand, Although an Alexander were her guard.
By his command we boldly crofs'd the line,
And bravely fought where fouthern stars arise; We trac'd the far-fetch'd gold unto the mine, And that which brib'd our fathers made our prize.
A POEM ON THE HAPPY RESTORATION AND RETURN OF HIS SACRED MAJESTY
And heaven, that seem'd regardless of our fate,
For France and Spain did miracles create,
Such mortal quarrels to compofe in peace
As nature bred, and intereft did increase.
We figh'd to hear the fair Iberian bride
Muft grow a lily to the lily's fide,
While our crofs ftars deny'd us Charles's bed,
Whom our first flames and virgin love did wed.
For his long abfence church and state did groan;
Madness the pulpit, faction seiz'd the throne:
Experienc'd age in deep defpair was loft,
To fee the rebel thrive, the loyal croft:
Youth that with joys had unacquainted been,
Envy'd grey hairs that once good days had feen:
We thought our fires, not with their own content,
Had ere we came to age our portion spent.
Nor could our nobles hope their bold attempt
Who ruin'd crowns would coronets exempt:
For when by their defigning leaders taught
To frike at power which for themselves they
fought,
The vulgar, gull'd into rebellion, arm'd;
Their blood to action by the prize was warm'd.
The facred purple then and scarlet gown,
Like fanguine dye, to elephants was fhewn.
Thus when the bold Typhœus scal'd the sky,
And forc'd great Jove from his own heaven to fly,
(What king, what crown, from treafon's reach is
If Jove and heaven can violated be?)
The effer gods, that fhar'd his profperous ftate,
All fuffer'd in the exil'd Thunderer's fate.
The rabble now fuch freedom did enjoy,
As winds at fea, that use it to destroy:
Blind as the Cyclop, and as wild as he,
They own'd a lawless favage liberty,
Like that our painted ancestors fo priz'd,
Ere empire's arts their breafts had civiliz'd.
How great were then our Charles's woes, who thus
Was forc'd to fuffer for himself and us!
He, tofs'd by fate, and hurry'd up and down,
Heir to his father's forrows, with his crown,
Could tafte no fweets of youth's defired age;
But found his life too true a pilgrimage.
Unconquer'd yet in that forlorn eftate,
His manly courage overcame his fate.
His wounds he took, like Romans, on his breast,
Which by his virtue were with laurels dreft.
As fouls reach heaven while yet in bodies pent,
So did he live above his banishment.
That fun, which we beheld with cozen'd eyes
Within the water, mov'd along the skies.
How eafy 'tis, when deftiny proves kiud,
With full-fpread fails to run before the wind!
Bat thofe that 'gainst tiff gales laveering go,
Must be at once refolv'd and skilful too.
He would not, like foft Otho, hope prevent,
Pat ay'd and foffer'd fortune to repent.
Thefe virtues Gaiba in a stranger fought,
And Pilo to adopted empire brought.
How fhall I then my doubtful thoughts exprefs,
That must his fufferings both regret and blefs?
For when his early valour Heaven had croft;
And all at Worc'iter but the honour loft;
Forced into exile from his rightful throne,
He made all countries where he came his own;
And, viewing monarchs' fecret arts of sway,
A royal factor for his kingdoms lay,
Thus banish'd David spent abroad his time,
When to be God's anointed was his crime;
And when restor'd, made his proud neighbours rue
Those choice remarks he from his travels drew.
Nor is he only by afflictions shown
To conquer other realms, but rule his own:
Recovering hardly what he loft before,
His right endears it much; his purchase more.
Inur'd to fuffer ere he came to reign,
No rash procedure will his actions ftain:
To business ripen'd by digestive thought,
His future rule is into method brought:
As they, who first proportion understand,
With eafy practice reach a master's hand.
Well might the ancient poets then confer
On night the honour'd name of Counseller,
Since, ftruck with rays of profperous fortune blind,
We light alone in dark afflictions find.
In such adversities to scepters train'd,
The name of Great his famous grandfire gain'd:
Who yet a king alone in name and right,
With hunger, cold, and angry Jove did fight;
Shock'd by a covenanting league's vast powers,
As holy and as catholic as our's:
Till fortune's fruitless spite had made it known,
Her blows not fhook but riveted his throne
Some lazy ages, loft in fleep and ease,
No action leave to bufy chronicles:
Such, whofe fupine felicity but makes
In ftory chafms, in epocha mistakes;
O'er whom time gently fhakes his wings of down,
"Till with his filent fickle they are mown.
Such is not Charles's too too active age,
Which, govern'd by the wild distemper'd rage
Of fome black ftar infecting all the skies,
Made him at his own coft like Adam wife.
Tremble ye nations, which fecure before,
Laugh'd at thofe arms that 'gainst ourselves we
bore
Rouz'd by the lash of his own stubborn tail,
Our lion now will foreign foes affail.
With alga who the facred altar ftrews?
To all the fea gods Charles an offering owes
A bull to thee, Portunus, fhall be flain,
A lamb to you, ye tempefts of the main :
For thofe loud ftorms that did against him roar,
Have caft his fhipwreck'd veffel on the shore.
Yet as wife artists mix their colours fo,
That by degrees they from each other go;
Black fteals unheeded from the neighbouring white,
Without offending the well-cozen'd fight:
So on us ftole our bleffed change; while we
Th' effect did feel, but fcarce the manner fee.
Frosts that constrain the ground, and birth deny
To flowers that in its womb expecting lie,
Do feldom their ufurping power withdraw,
But raging floods pursue their hafty thaw.
Our thaw was mild, the cold not chas'd away,
But loft in kindly heat of lengthen'd day.
Heaven would no bargain for its bleflings drive,
But what we could not pay for, freely give.
The Prince of peace would like himself confer
A gift qnhop'd, without the price of war:
Yet, as he knew his bleffing's worth, took care,
That we fhould know it by repeated prayer;
Which storm'd the skies, and ravish'd Charles from
As heaven itself is took by violence.
Booth's forward valour only ferv'd to fhow,
He durft that duty pay we all did owe:
Th' attempt was fair; but heaven's prefixed hour
Not come fo, like the watchful traveller
That by the moon's mistaken light did rife,
Lay down again, and clos'd his weary eyes.
'Twas Monk, whom Providence defign'd to loofe
Thofe real bonds falfe freedom did impofe.
The bleffed faints, that watch'd this turning fcene,
Did from their fars with joyful wonder lean,
To fee fmall clues draw vafteft weights along,
Not in their bulk but in their order frong.
Thus pencils can by one flight touch restore
Smiles to that changed face that wept before.
With each fuch fond chimeras we purfue,
As fancy frames for fancy to fubdue:
But when ourselves to action we betake,
It fhuns the mint like gold that chemifts make.
How hard was then his tafk! at once to be
What in the body naturally we see ?
Man's architect diftin&ly did ordain
The charge of muscles, nerves, and of the brain,
Through viewlefs conduits fpirits to difpenfe;
The fprings of motion from the feat of fenfe.
'Twas not the hafty product of a day,
But the well-ripen'd fruit of wife delay.
He, like a patient angler, ere he ftrock,
Would let him play a while upon the hook.
Our healthful food the ftomach labours thus,
At first embracing what it straight doth crush.
Wife leaches will not vain receipts obtrude,
While growing pains pronour ce the humourscrude:
Deaf to complaints they wait upon the ill,
Till fome fafe crifis authorize their skill
Nor could his acts too clofe a vizard wear,
To 'fcape their eyes whom guilt had taught to fear,
And guard with caution that polluted neft,
Whence Legion twice before was difpoffeft:
Once facred houfe; which when they enter'd in,
They thought the place could fanctify a fin;
Like thofe that vainly hop'd kind heaven would
wink,
While to excefs on martyrs' tombs they drink.
And as devouter Turks first warn their fouls
To part, before they tafle forbidden bowls:
So thefe, when their black crimes they went about,
First timely charm'd their ufelefs confcience cut.
Religion's name against itfelf was made;
The fhadow ferv'd the fubftance to invade ;
Like zealous mifions, they did care pretend
Of fouls in fhew, but made the gold their end.
Th' incenfed powers beheld with fcorn from high
And heaven fo far diftant from the fky, [ground,
Which durft, with horfes hoofs that beat the
And martial brafs, bely the thunder's found.
Suffer'd to live, they are like Helots fet,
A virtuous fhame within us to beget.
For by example most we finn'd before,
And glafs-like clearnefs mix'd with frailty bore.
But fince reform'd by what we did amifs,
We by our fufferings learn to prize our bliss:
Like early lovers, whose unpractis'd hearts
Were long the may-game of malicious arts,
When once they find their jealoufies were vain,
With double heat renew their fires again.
'Twas this produc'd the joy that hurry'd o'er
Such fwarns of English to the neighbouring shore,
To fetch that prize, by which Batavia made
So rich amends for our impoverish'd trade.
Oh had you feen from Schevelin's barren shore,
(Crowded with troops, and barren now no more,)
Afflicted Holland to his farewell bring
True, forrow, Holland to regret a king!
While waiting him his royal fleet did ride,
And willing winds to their lower'd fails deny'd.
The wavering streamers, flags, and standards out,
The merry feamen's rude but chearful shout;
And last the cannons voice that fhook the fkies,"
And, as it fares in fudden ecfiafies,
At once bereft us both of ears and eyes.
The Nafeby, now no longer England's fhame,
But better to be loft in Charles's name,
(Like fome unequal bride in nobler sheets)
Receives her lord: the joyful London meets
The princely York, himself alone a freight;
The Swift-fure groans beneath great Glofler's
weight:
Secure as when the halcyon breeds, with these,
He that was born to drown might cross the seas.
Heaven could not own a Providence, and take
The wealth three nations ventur'd at a stake.
The fame indulgence Charles's voyage blefs'd,
Which in his right had miracles confefs'd.
The winds that never moderation knew,
Afraid to blow too much, too faintly blew ;
Or, out of breath with joy, could not enlarge
Their ftraighten'd lungs, or confcious of their
The British Amphytrite, fmooth and clear, [charge.
In richer azure never did appear;
Proud her returning prince to entertain
With the fubmitted fafces of the main.
AND welcome now, great monarch, to your own;
Behold th' approaching clifts of Albion :
It is no longer motion cheats your view,
As you meet it, the land approacheth you.
The land returns, and, in the white it wears,
The marks of penitence and fotrow bears.
But you, whofe goodness your defcent doth fhew,
Your heavenly parentage and earthly too;
By that fame mildnefs, which your father's crown
Before did ravish, fhall fecure your own.
Not tied to rules of policy, you find
Revenge lefs fweet than a forgiving mind.
'I was hence at length juf vengeance thought it fit Thus, when th' Almighty would to Mofes give
To speed their ruin by their impious wit.
Thus sforza, curs'd with a too fertile brain,
Loft by his wiles the power his wit did gain.
Henceforth their fogue muft fpend at leffer rate,
Than in its flames to wrap a nation's fate,
A fight of all he could behold and live;
A voice before his entry did proclaim
Long-fuffering, goodness, mercy, in his name.
Your power to juftice doth fubmit your cause,
Your grodnes only is above the laws;
Whole rigid letter, while pronounc'd by you,
Is fofter made. So winds that tempefts brew,
When through Arabian groves they take their
flight,
Made wanton with rich odours, lose their spite.
And as thofe lees, that troubled it, refine
The agitated foul of generous wine :
So tears of joy, for your returning, spilt;
Work out, and expiate our former guilt.
Methinks I fee thofe crouds on Dover's strand,
Who, in their hafte to welcome you to land,
Chok'd up the beach with their still-growing ftore,
And made a wilder torrent on the shore :
While, fpurr'd with eager thoughts of past delight,
Thofe, who had feen you, court a fecond fight;
Preventing still your fteps, and making hafte
To meet you often wherefoe'er you past.
How fhall I speak of that triumphant day,
When you renew'd th' expiring pomp of May !
(A month that owns an intereft in your name:
You and the flowers are its peculiar claim.)
That star, that at your birth fhone out fo bright,
It ftain'd the duller fun's meridian light,
Did once again its potent fires renew,
Guiding our eyes to find and worship you.
And now Time's whiter feries is begun,
Which in foft centuries fhall fmoothly run:
Thofe clouds, that overcaft your morn, fhall fly,
Dipell'd to fartheft corners of the sky.
Our nation with united intereft bleft,
Not now content to poize, fhall fway the rest.
Abroad your empire fhall no limits know,
But, like the fea, in boundless circles flow.
Your much-lov'd fleet fhall, with a wide command,
Befiege the petty monarchs of the land:
And as old Time his offspring fwallow'd down,
Our ocean in its depths all feas fhall drown.
Their wealthy trade from pirates' rapine free,
Our merchants fhall no more adventurers be:
Nor in the fartheft East thofe dangers fear,
Which humble Holland must diffemble here.
Spain to your gift alone her Indies owes ;
For what the powerful takes not he bestows;
And France, that did an exile's prefence fear,
May justly apprehend you still too near.
At home the hateful names of parties cease,
And factious fouls are wearied into peace.
The difcontented now are only they,
Whofe crimes before did your just cause betray:
Of those your edicts fome reclaim from fin,
But most your life and bleft example win.
Oh happy prince, whom heaven hath taught the
By paying vows to have more vows to pay!
Oh happy age! Oh times like those alone,
By fate referv'd for great Auguftus' throne!
When the joint growth of arms and arts foreshew
The world a monarch, and that monarch you.
A PANEGYRIC ON HIS CORONATION.
In that wild deluge where the world was drown'd,
When life and fin one common tomb had found,
The first fmall profpect of a rifing hill
With various notes of joy the ark did fill:
Yet when that flood in its own depths was
drown'd,
It left behind it falfe and flippery ground;
And the more folemn pomp was ftill deferr'd,
Till new-born nature in fresh looks appear'd.
Thus, royal fir, to fee you landed here,
Was caufe enough of triumph for a year:
Nor would your care those glorious joys repeat,
Till they at once might be fecure and great :
Till your kind beams, by their continued stay, Had warm'd the ground, and call'd the damps away.
Such vapours, while your powerful influence dries,
Then fooneft vanish when they highest rise.
Had greater hafte these facred rites prepar'd,
Some guilty months had in your triumphs shar'd:
But this untainted year is all your own;
Your glories may without our crimes be shown.
We had not yet exhaufted all our ftore,
When you refresh'd our joys by adding more:
As heaven, of old, difpens'd celestial dew,
You gave us manna, and still give us new.
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