 | The Workes of Benjamin Jonson |  |
An Epigram. To our great and good K. Charles On his Anniversary Day.
How happy were the Subject! if he knewMost pious King, but his owne good in you!
How many times, live long, Charles, would he say,
If he but weigh'd the blessings of this day?
And as it turnes our joyfull yeare about,
For safetie of such majestie, cry out?
Indeed, when had great Brittaine greater cause
Then now, to love the Soveraigne, and the Lawes?
When you that raigne, are her Example growne,
And what are bounds to her, you make your owne?
When your assiduous practise doth secure
That Faith, which she professeth to be pure?
When all your life's a president of dayes,
And murmure cannot quarrell at your wayes?
How is she barren growne of love! or broke!
That nothing can her gratitude provoke!
O Times! O Manners! Surfet, bred of ease
The truly Epidemicall disease!
'Tis not alone the Merchant, but the Clowne,
Is Banke-rupt turn'd! the Cassock, Cloake, and Gowne,
Are lost upon accompt! And none will know
How much to heaven for thee, great Charles they owe!
| The Workes of Benjamin Jonson | |