University of Virginia Library

TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNES JAMES Duke of ALBANIE.

Great Sir, this Poem still conceal'd have I,
Till time hath Christn'd it a Prophesy.
Indulgence now unmasked, strives to tryst
With John of Leyden against Antichrist.
This is the Trojan Horse, wherein there lies
Catsbie and Vaulx, with new conspiracies.
This the Shaftburian Crockodil his blind
To lure Scotes Rogues to English commons mind;
Nor is this twattling fame, but sure as death,
Witness where Welsh resign'd his latest breath.
This Meteor impregnated the air
With some to usurp the throne, and sacred chair
With a new faith, but not without its works:
Yet such as more be seemeth Jews and Turks.
But now wee'r fallen in that dismall time,
Wherein to utter truth's an hainous crime.
When squinteyed slander, and hypocrisy,
In triumph bear away the verdant bay.
Protect me then, the galled Brother-hood
Smart censures will reject, thô wise and good;
Being swell'd with that same furie, which before:
Glutted it self with our dread Soveraings Gore.
Noll is reviv'd, his Ghost drinks our ill health,
And we must once more try a common wealth,
No more Succession, rather be't our fate
To truckle under illegitimate.
And then in our career, each friend, or foe,
Just as we please, wee'l call, or make him so.
And like an hurrying flood wee'l still increass,
And swell our channel, as we mend our pace.
Wee'l scorn Hobs Leviathan, whill we play
Our selves i'th Ocean of Stern Tyrranny.
Begon Religion, and be buried Law,
Brittain must once more turn Aceldama.
But oft omnipotency lurkes, untill
The Creaturs Pollicy, and prowess fail;
And GOD will Joseph press, and gall, and wring,
E're he advance him second to the King.
And hath decreed this lot for every man,
To pass the red Sea e're he taste Canaan.
We see the Soveraign, and imperial State
Is not exempted from the common fate,
Nay Heavens impartial, and resistless brow
Frowns oftner on the Scepter then the plough:
When he securely whistles to his teem,
The other fears a tottring diadem.
All my desire, Great Sir, is that I may
Live like an Atome in the radiant Ray
Of your life-giving heat, and glorious light,
Whose crisping spires may make me warm and bright.
Princes ar Prophets Guardians, ye know,
Jacobus Rex was, Aris excubo.
David was Poet; and King James they sing,
Was King of Poets, and the Poëts King.
And this emblazons most a Prince renown,
When he with Muses Laurel Crowns his Crown.
Poets and Prophets both inspir'd of GOD,
Were Kings Companions, till our late Bownd rode:
Where Reason and Religion did invade
A Frantick passion, and prevailing made
That giddie furie, that awaits the power
Of thy more sacred charming Hellebore.
And be't thy fate, for to suppress this flamm,
And be true Majestie thy Anagram;
Which for thy Anagram may justly passe,

James Stuart Anagr. True Majeste ablato. A.S.

As wanting the dull omen of the A.S.
And spite of envy may thy glory be
Confin'd to nothing but eternity.