All the workes of Iohn Taylor the Water-Poet Being Sixty and three in Number. Collected into one Volume by the Author [i.e. John Taylor]: With sundry new Additions, corrected, reuised, and newly Imprinted |
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| I. |
| 2. |
King Iames. An. Dom. 1602. |
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 | All the workes of Iohn Taylor the Water-Poet |  |
King Iames. An. Dom. 1602.
VVhen as Elizaes wofull death was acted:When this lamenting land was halfe distracted:
Whē tears each loyall heart with grief had drownd,
Then came this King and made our ioyes abound,
Ordain'd for vs by heauenly power diuine,
Then from the North this glorious starre did shine,
The Roall Image of the Prince of Peace,
The blest Concorder that made warres to cease;
By Name a Stevvard, and by Nature one,
Appointed from Iehouahs sacred Throne,
And by th'almighties hand supported euer,
That Treason or the Diuell should hurt him neuer:
And as his Zeale vnto his God was great,
Gods blessings on him were each way compleat,
Rich in his Subiects loue (a Kings best treasure)
Rich in content, (a Riches aboue measure)
Rich in his Princely Issue, and in them,
Rich in his hopefull Branches of his stemme;
Rich in Munition, and a Nauy Royall,
And richer then all Kings in seruants Loyall.
When Hell and Rome together did conspire,
To blow him and his kingdome vp with fire,
Then did the King of Kings preserue our King,
And all the Traytors to confusion bring.
And who so reckons vp from first to last,
The many hel-hatch'd dangers he hath past
Through all his daies, he will beleeue (no doubt)
That he with heauenly pow'rs was wall'd about.
All Christian Princes held his friendship deare,
Was fear'd for loue, and not belou'd for feare:
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With him, as farre as is the Easterne Iude.
And like a flame amidst a Riuer fix'd,
So was his Iustice with his mercy mix'd:
He striu'd to imitate his Maker still,
And clemency preseru'd where Law would kill.
He hath cur'd England, and heal'd Scotlands wounds,
And made them both great (anciēt) Britains bounds:
All bloudy deadly feuds he caus'd surcease,
And canker'd hate he turn'd to Christian peace,
The mouth of warre he muzzled mute and dum,
He still'd the roaring Cannon and the Drum:
Secure in peace, his people sup and dine,
With their owne fig-trees shaded and their vine,
Whilst in an vprore most of Christendome,
One Nation doth another ouercome.
Vnto the King of Kings let's praises sing.
For giuing vs this happy peacefull King.
None know so well how they should peace prefer,
As those that know the miseries of warre:
Tis true (though old) and must not be forgot,
The warres are sweet to such as know them not.
Peace (happy peace) doth spread tranquillity,
Through all the bounds of Britaines Monarchy;
And may we all actions still addresse,
For peace with God, and warre 'gainst wickednesse.
Vnto which peace of God this King's ascended,
To reigne in glory that shall ne'r be ended.
His mortall part at Westminster enter'd,
His soule and Fame immortally prefer'd.
| All the workes of Iohn Taylor the Water-Poet | |