« VorigeDoorgaan »
When sach heroic virtue Heav'n sets out,
The stars, like commons, sullenly obey; Because it drains them when it comes about,
And therefore is a tax they seldom 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 springs as high as fountains may ascend.
He made us free-men of the Continent,
Whom Nature did like captives treat before; To nobler preys the English lion sent,
And taught him first in Belgian walks to roar.
That old unquestion'd pirate of the land, [heard,
Proud Rome, with dread the fate of Dunkirk And, trenibling, wish'd behind more Alps to stand,
Although an Alexander were her guard.
By his command we boldly cross'd the line,
And bravely fought where southern stars arise ; We trac'd the far-fetch'd gold unto the mine,
And that which brib'd our fathers made our prize.
Such was our Prince; yet own'd a soul above
The highest acts it could produce to show: Thus poor mechanic arts in public move,
Whilst the deep secrets beyond practice go.
Nor died he when bis ebbing fame went less,
But when fresh laurels courted him to live; He seem'd but to prevent some new success,
As if above what triumphs earth could give.
His latest victories still thickest came,
As near the centre motion doth increase; Till he, press'd down by his own weighty name,
Did, like the Vestal, under spoils decrease.
But first the Ocean as a tribute sent
That giant prince of all her watry herd; And the isle, when her protecting genius went,
Upon his obsequies loud sighs conferr'd.
No civil broils have since his death arose,
But faction now by habit does obey; And wars have that respect for his repose,
As winds far halcyons, when they breed at sea.
His ashes in a peaceful urn shall rest,
His name a great example stands, to show How strangely high endeavours may be blest,
Where piety and valour jointly go.
ON THE HAPPY RESTORATION AND RETURN OF
HIS SACRED MAJESTY, CHARLES II.
Jam redit et virgo, redeunt Saturnia regna.
The last great age, foretold by sacred rhymes,
Renews its finish'd course; Saturnian times
Roll round again.
Now with a general peace the world was bless'd,
While ours, a world divided from the rest,
A dreadful quiet felt, and (worser far
Than arms) a sullen interval of war: [skies,
Thus when black clouds draw down the labouring
Ere yet abroad the winged thunder flies,
An horrrid stilness first invades the ear,
And in that silence we the tempest fear.
The' ambitious Swede, like restless billows toss'd,
On this hand gaining what on that he lost,
Though in his life he blood and ruin breath’d,
To his now guideless kingdom peace bequeath'd:
And Heav'n, that seem'd regardless of our fate,
For France and Spain did miracles create;
Such mortal quarrels to compose in peace,
As Nature bred, and Interest did increase.
We sigh’d to hear the fair Iberian bride
Must grow a lily to the lily's side,
While our cross stars denied us Charles's bed,
Whom our first flames and virgin love did wed.
For his long absence Church and State did groan ;
Madness the pulpit, faction seiz'd the throne;
Experienc'd age in deep despair was lost,
To see the rebel thrive, the loyal cross'd;
Youth, that with joys had unacquainted been,
Envied gray hairs that once good days had seen:
We thought our sires, not with their own content,
Had, ere we came to age, our portion spent.
Nor could our pobles hope their bold attempt
Who ruin'd crowns, would coronets exempt:
For when, by their designing leaders taught
To strikeat pow'r, which for themselves they sought,
The vulgar, gulld into rebellion, arm'd,
Their blood to action by their prize was warm'd.
The sacred purple then, and scarlet gown,
Like sanguine dye, to elephants was shown.
Thus when the bold Typhæus scald the sky,
And forc'd great Jove from his own heav'n to fly,
(What king, what crown,from Treason's reach is free,
If Jove and heav'n can violated be!)
The lesser gods, that shard his prosperous state,
All suffer'd in the exild Thunderer's fate.
The rabble now such freedom did enjoy,
As winds at sea, that use it to destroy:
Blind as the Cyclop, and as wild as he,
They own’d a lawless savage liberty,
Like that our painted ancestors so priz'd,
Ere Empire's arts their breasts had civiliz'd.
How great were then our Charles's woes, who thus
Was forc'd to suffer for himself and us!
He, toss’d by Fate, and hurried up and down,
Heir to his father's sorrows with his crown,
Could taste no sweets of youth's desired age,
But found his life too true a pilgrimage.
Unconquer'd yet in that forlorn estate,
His manly courage overcame his fate.
His wounds he took, like Romans, on his breast,
Which by his virtne were with laurels dress’d.
As souls reach Heaven while yet in bodies pent,
So did he live above his banishment.
That sun, which we beheld with cozen'd eyes
Within the water, mov'd along the skies.
How easy 'tis, when destiny proves kind,
With full-spread sails to run before the wind
But those that ʼgainst stiff gales lavecring go,
Must be at once resolv'd and skilful too.
He would not, like soft Otho, hope prevent,
But stay'd and suffer'd Fortune to repent.
These virtues Galba in a stranger sought,
And Piso to adopted empire brought.
How shall I then my doubtful thoughts express,
That must his sufferings both regret and bless!
For when his early valour Heaven had cross’d,
And all at Worc'ster but the honour lost,
Forc'd into exile from his rightful throne,
He made all countries, where he came, his own;
And viewing monarchs' secret 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 others' realms, but rule his