University of Virginia Library

William the Conquerour.

William the Conquerour resigns his breath
Vnto a greater Conquerour, grim Death:
I doe not say when he for England fought,
That any other then his right he sought:
But to the English he no Bowells had,
Whence his own Bowells served him as bad.
With what contempt these troublers of the World,
When breath forsakes into the earth are hurl'd,
A man may see in him; who scarce could have
'Midst all his Realms & friends, a sorry grave;
As if the very Earth scorn'd to entombe
The Son of so much slaughter in her Wombe.

William the Second, King of England.

William the Father being dead and gone,
William his Son usurps his Brothers Throne:
They call him Rufus: why, you need not study,
Either his hair was red, or count'nance ruddy.
Fortune his Reigne continuall Warre alots,
From the Welch, from his brother, or the Scots.
Still he was Victor, till the fatall Dart
In the new Forrest once hit the wrong H'art.
Why there he fell in Judgment so severe,
If a Religious House be left? ask there:
The father there invades the Churches hedg,
And the Son suffers for his Sacriledge.

Henry the First, King of England.

Robert's abroad, still roving for renowne,
And now a second time forfeits his Crowne;
Which Henry his Brother means to weare,
At the old rate three thousand Marks a year;
Whose Eyes he now puts out incontinent,
Lest he should see his bargain and repent.
He that allows his Brother none now dyes,
Surfeiting of a Fish abounds with Eyes.
Crowns no Relation know; they oft have stood
Close cemented to Cæsar's Head with bloud.
Thus to the Crown the third Descent does fail
The Conquerour, and all his Issue Male.

Stephen, King of England.

Stephen next usurps the throne, for when he drew
His Sword, he cut the Gordeon in two.
Valiant he was, but vitiously inclin'd:
He is too strong a man, Oaths cannot binde.
Maud had the Right, Stephen Power; Princes take
Any advantage when a Crowns at stake.
He made no Laws, he so in Wars did live;
He seemed rather to receive then give,
At last his Son dies; now all storms blow fair
Whilst Stephen adopts his enemy his heir.
What War could not, a happy peace hath done,
This has a Kingdome got, and that a Son.

Henry the Second, King of England.

He that shall read thy Reign (great Henry) must
Conclude thee truly valiant, wise, and just;
Who from the Treasury of thine own braine,
Didst Forreign and Domestick Wars maintain.
Thou never didst unusuall Tax impose
Vpon thy subjects, to subdue thy foes:
Yet did thy Son in ready Coyne receive
Nine hundred thousand pounds which thou didst leav.
Hadst thou not Becket, nor thy Syren seen,
Thy Love had ne're turn'd Lust; nor Anger spleen.
Thy Sons with woe had ne're opprest thy life;
No Rosamond is like a Royall Wife.

Richard the First, King of England.

Richard the First no Lion ever fought,
But was call'd Lion's heart cause he was stout.
From Prison he his Mother did release,
And setled his Dominions in peace:
Then levying men and money, did prepare
All that was needfull to the holy Warre.
He forc'd King Tuncred buy his peace with Gold,
And twice won Cyprus for Jerusalem sold.
The Turks and Saracens he overthrowes,
Whilst prostrate Palestine to his Prowess bowes.
Philip and Leopald their envy bend
Against that valour even the Foes commend.

John, King of England.

O what a lushie morsell is a Crowne?
That right or wrong Princes will gusle 't downe,
John to the Throne will o're his Nephews neck,
Although his own in the attempt he break.
What follow'd this Vsurper at the Helme?
A three years Curse on him, and his whole Realme.
At last base fears impossibles foresees,
And to the Pope bends his unprincely knees:
In Swinstead Abbey death did him besiege
In Sacramentall Masse; Wassall my Liege.
Who pities him a safe estate that scorns,
And wounds his Temples with a Crowne of Thorns?

Henry the Third, King of England.

The groaning Kingdome being rid of John,
Has found his very Image in his Son.
King Henry the Third nine years of Age
Enters a troubled and a doubtfull Stage
The Realme he found Rebecca like become
With divers Nations strugling in her Womb;
All which he clear'd at last with promise fair,
With Oaths & Vowes which prov'd nothing but Air.
He pill'd his subjects so, that at his need
Give him they nothing would, nor could indeed:
He marries then with a mean Family,
And spoyles his Realme to lard their Poverty.

Edvvard the First, King of England.

King Edward, Saracens, Head, & Sholder sunders;
Where Christ wrought miracles this Prince did wonders.
His wife with such so pious love abounds,
She sucks the venoms from his poysoned wounds.
'Twere Treason to their merits to conceal
So great a Valour, and so sweet a zeal.
The haughty Welch he soon did over-run,
And left them Vassalls to his Princely Son;
And by his sword so weighed down Fortunes scales,
That Englands heir succeeds stil Prince of Wales.
He paid the Scots for all their Treacheries,
And 4 times brought them on their humbled knees

Edvvard the Second, King of England.

Edward the Second doth deserve to have
All his Remembrance buryed in his grave.
He lead to Scotland many thousand men,
And having seen it e'ne came home agan.
Pierce Gaveston enthralled his jale heart
So close, that nothing but the axe could part.
Next come his dearling Spencers to his view;
Rid of one Rakeshame, now he must have two.
Honour and Princely-prudence are thrown down,
And Dotage takes her lodging in the Crowne.
Curs'd be the luckless minute that did bring,
A Minions subject to be Englands King.

Edvvard the Third, King of England.

Edward the Third did at the Throne arrive,
Whilst his deposed Father was alive:
But till his Father willingly resign'd it,
Though Queen and Peers all urg'd it, he declin'd it.
Scotland he first subdu'd, and made it reele
Vnder the force of his victorious steel.
France askt him Homage, but he told her plain,
Homage was due to him, her Soveraign.
Let her to Cressey, and to Poictiers look,
And Callice, which 'fore Philip's face he took:
And what does more than this his fame evince,
He was the father to the brave BLACK PRINCE.

Richard the Second, King of England.

Richard the Second (Son to such a Prince
The World has never had his equall since)
Instead of aiming at anothers Crown,
As did his Father, tamely yeelds his own.
Has Mars begot Clineas then? O strange!
Sure all the world is moulded up of Change:
And to the Waves we may compare them well;
One threatens Heaven, another sinks to Hell.
Such is the State of sublunary things;
Nothing is fixt, no not the Throne of Kings.
Peace out of doubt would be perpetuall,
But that our sins, our sins for battels call.

Henry the Fourth, King of England.

Was't not enough thy Cousin's Crown to take,
And it a prey to thy ambition make?
But that his Bloud, his Royall Bloud must be
A Sacrifice too, to thy jealousie.
Henry look back, and in his Tragick Scene,
There thou shalt see what all thy troubles mean;
Nor did it, though thou though'st it faster stood,
Cemented to thy Temples with his Bloud.
You that your Lives, your Souls, what dearest is,
Venture for Thrones, do but consider this;
Princes descend unto the shades beneath,
And pyle their Crowns up at the Gates of Death.

Henry the Fifth, King of England.

His Royall head no sooner Henry Crowns,
But his debaucht associates he disowns:
He showes them now whereto he does incline,
The God of Warre, and not the God of Wine.
He claims his right, & sues for Charls his daughter:
Whilst the proud French retort with scorn & laughter.
In short he did their Towns and Towers so batter,
The French soon found it was no laughing matter.
They sue for Peace, and, the fair Katharine bring,
Who more then all their weapons wounds the King.
They are espous'd, and so conclude the jarrs,
Where Mars & Venus are auspicious Stars.

Henry the Sixth, King of England.

Mars begets Clineas, Henry a Son
That has lost more then all his Father won;
For he lost Normandy, and France put to't,
England and Ireland, and his Life to boot.
Twice crown'd and twice depos'd, at last he took
Deaths fatall Errand from Yorks desperate Duke.
He was a Prince (do Rebels what ye will)
Like Archimedes drawing Figures still:
Who (not unlike some Gamesters I have seen)
Winning and losing still the same has been.
He was not Politick in the Worlds controle,
But he is wise enough that saves his Soul.

Edvvard the Fourth, King of England.

Now sixty years out, York obtains the Crowne,
And Lancaster with all his friends puts down;
Betwixt which Houses while the difference stood,
Fell more then fourscore of the Noble Bloud;
For which, but think how many thousands bled,
And you will Judge the Roses both were Red.
Warwick advances Edward to the Crown,
And in distast againe he pulls him down:
But Edward to the Duke of Burgoine flyes,
And with his aid, and his own perjuries
Recrowns himself; for Kingdomes men will dare
A thousand Oaths, and count them solemne Aire.

Edvvard the Fifth, King of England.

Edward the Fifth at thirteen years of Age
Is sacrific'd unto his Uncles rage;
Whose thirst for honour not be withstood,
Could scarce be slak'd in a whole sea of bloud.
Poor pritty blossom, how thy Fate I pitty,
Thus to be murther'd in thy Royall City;
That in the Tower thy soul should be sent hence,
That ought have been a Tower of thy defence.
How many mourning dayes did the Queen keep?
When eyes ne're saw thee could not choose but weep.
Sure this doth not with heavens direction sute,
To fell the Tree before we see the fruit.

Richard the Third, King of England.

Monster of men, Thou son of Belial,
Shall not thy Nephews bloud for vengeance call?
Shall it think'st thou with them in silence dye?
No; though their mouths be stopt their blood shal cry;
For which when God shall inquisition make,
Rocks cannot hide thee, nor the Stigean Lake.
Thou that didst publish all the World before,
Thy Brother Bastard, and thy Mother Whore.
Thy barbarous hand did take away the Life
Of two great Kings, and thine own dearest Wife.
Two Princes thou and many Peers didst murther:
Had Hel broke loose it could have gone scarce further.

Henry the Seventh, King of England.

As after a sharp Winter Birds do sing
Encomiums to a Comfortable Spring;
So did this Kingdome entertain with joy,
Great Lancaster, and sung Vive le Roy.
Henry from Britain came, and claim'd his due
By Vertue, Valour, and by Title true.
And that he might becalme all stormy weather,
He joyn'd the White Rose and the Red together.
He was a prudent Prince, and govern'd well,
But that to be too Covetous he fell:
At last he much restor'd, and gave among
The poor; which mercy cancel'd all his wrong.

Henry the Eighth, King of England.

Henry the Eighth began his Reigne so well,
Few Predecessors were his Parallel.
Empson and Dudley he did soon dismisse,
Those Engines of his Fathers Avarice.
A comly Prince he was, but him I fear
The Hangman made too oft a Widower.
Many for no desert he would exalt,
And ruine them as quickly for no fault.
He never spar'd (if you my Author trust)
Man in his wrath, or Woman in his Lust.
And yet his vices did not so prevaile,
But that his Vertues still did Even the Scale.

Edvvard the Sixth, King of England.

To thee, Great King, it was a gain to dye,
Whose death was crown'd with immortality;
Nor does he erre, whoever takes thee for
Edward the Saint, the Second Confessor.
Thou that in pious Paths so Even hast trod,
Art Enoch like translated by thy God.
Who (as thy death woes evidently show)
Lov'd thee too well to leave thee long below:
Whose every act the Vniverse convinces,
And is a pattern to succeeding Princes.
When thou of Popery didst the Temple purge,
Thy Scepter turn'd into thy Saviours scourge.

Mary, Queene of England.

What means this Popish Fogg the Church to smother?
Where is the Queen should be a nursing Mother?
Edward preceeded thee in the same form,
That a bright Sun foreruns a blustering storme:
For Age and Sex, all at the stake we see;
O burning zeal, and frozen Charity.
If to deny the Tyranny you please,
Behold a Cloud of faithfull Witnesses:
No, it were better to bethink with speed,
What Sackcloth such a world of ashes need.
But Madam, were not these your own intents?
How have you suffer'd in your Instruments?

Elizabeth, Queene of England.

Thus dy'd Elizabeth; Did I say she dy'd?
Away my babling Muse, away, ye ly'd.
She is alive, and ever so shall be;
Could England dote, and lose all memory.
The Neatherlands, yea France & Spain would give
All satisfaction that she still does live,
And shall, untill unknown diseases vex
The Universe into an Apoplex.
Of whom this Nation may with comfort say,
An Evening red, foretold a morning gray.
Thus from the Briny Ocean of our tears,
The joyfull Venus of our Peace appears.

James, King of Great Britain, France, & Ireland.

They look for peace, and behold war; But we
Did look for war, and have met peace in thee.
The North wind brings no good, it is untrue;
Never brought wind England more good than you
Whose Mothers death may all the world convince,
Revenge could never conquer such a Prince.
What could Great Britain wish but such an heir,
Unites two Realms scarce ever out of war.
Your wisdome, plenty, peace who descants on,
Conclude you even a second Solomon.
Herein (Great Sir) you Solomon surpass'd;
That to your God were constant to the last.

Charls Ist. King of Great Britain, France, & Ireland.

Thus, Ah thus our dread Soveraign Charls the first,
The best of men was murder'd by the worst;
At his own Gate, by his own Subjects too,
What more could barbarous Moors and Scythians do?
False Scots betray'd & sold him, Scots that would
Betray again our Saviour Christ for gold.
Thus fell our Laws and Liberties Assertor,
The Churches Champion, and the People's Martyr:
To prove him wise, just, learned, only look
Into his most incomparable Book,
Which shall his name from age to age present,
When Brasse and Marble need a Monument.

The Conclusion.

I Might have told ye that this Realme some call
Britain, from Brutus its originall;
Or, that the Romans overthrew it quite
By providence, to make it happier by 't;
Or that the Danes were (was the like e're known?)
By Counsell-keeping Women overthrown;
Or that at other times Kings did agree,
To carve this Realm into an Heptarchie:
All these I pretermit, and many more,
Beginning with the Norman Conquerour;
Who setled here such Laws all men confesse
Are the worlds wonder and our happinesse:
'Tis true, he did the Church some injury,
And suffered for't in his posterity.
I have, and briefly as I could, set down
Who justly claim'd, and who usurpt the Crown,
As likewise that long bloudy Civill war,
Betwixt the House of York and Lancaster.
In short, all Princes have their various fate,
This prosperous, and the next unfortunate;
As too too well this Age knows, not long since
We had a good, but an unhappy Prince;
Who like our Saviour Christ did never cease
To tell us of the things concern'd our Peace.
But Heaven resolv'd to turn another Leaf,
Least his charms should convert us made us deaf:
And now being punisht for our many sins,
Appeased Heaven our Halcyon dayes begins;
Having in mercy given us a King
To all our sorrows will a period bring;
Whose Grandeur and inestimable worth,
None but an Angel's able to set forth:
Great Charls the second, whose Illustrious Name
Shall ride Triumphant on the wings of fame.
Let England say now, since her joyes increase,
Long live King Charls the second, Prince of peace.