University of Virginia Library

ANGLIA REDIVIVA.

No Voice, more soft then Thunder, can expresse
Our present Ioy, or our past Heavinesse:
None can the Largenesse of This Ioy set out,
Vnlesse at once He make Three Kingdomes Shout:
Which is the Greater, sith through Griefe it Came:
As Water Vanquisht still Augments the Flame.
In Mirth, and Laughter now, and Pleasant Tones,
We Spend that Breath, which we Fetcht up for Groans.
Oh, how we Droopt, and Hung our Heads to see
Rebellion Prosper? How we griev'd to be
Iudgd for the Wicked by Perfidious Knaves;
By No Man Rul'd, but Kept in Awe by Slaves.
Oh, how we greiv'd to see that Vip'rous Brood,
By whose Black, Hellish Sire, the Royall Bloud
Of Blessed CHARLES was shed, to bear the sway?
And (which was worse) to see that none but They
Or Their small Myrmidons should be the Men
Esteem'd for Godly? as if the Devil, agen
Had on those Cloathes, which once in Heaven he Wore.
He learns to Bleat, who still was wont to Roar.
But now those Varlets are, as they should be,
Sunck in the Depth of Scorne and Infamy;
Thrown down ev'n by Those Hands, which did them Raise:
Revil'd by Those, who gave them greatest Praise.
See, Rebels, See the Hand of God. Where now
Are all those Lawrels, which once Crownd the Brow
Of that Victorious-CROMWEL? They were all
Turn'd into Ashes at his Funerall,
And Cover'd in His Urne. But first, those Bayes
God Us'd for Rods to VVhip His Sons: His Praise
Survive'd Him but for This: That His Great Name
Might Raise Them up, that They might Fall with Shame.
And those Wild Wretches, who Drew down These Elves,
Pull'd Them on their own Heads, and Fell Themselves;
Still Tumbling on th' other: 'till their Fall
Had made some way for that Brave GENERAL,
The Glorious MONCK, to Step up to that Height,
Where being Fixt, He had no need to Fight:
He Conquerd by His Words: Three Nations came
Streight to do Homage to His Mighty Name.
Thus having All in's Hands: He gave the Power
To Him whose Right it was: made Himselfe Lower.
He might be, which he would of these Two Things,
The Best of Subjects, or The Worst of Kings:
By Less'nings Power thus He Gain'd more Renown,
'Twas HEAVEN Gave CHARLES, but MONCK Put on His CROWN.
Now that our King's Proclaim'd, what shall we say?
Sure this Blest Month will make our Years all May.

The KING was Proclaim'd in May—60.

What Pleasant Daies shall we have now, when He
Who hath not only Strength, but MAIESTY,
And Lawfull Power shall only bear the sway,
And with his Looks Fright Saint-like Fiends away?
This was ith' number of our late Complaints,
That the worst Villaines were esteemd Best SAINTS.
But now our SVN is up, and all is Clear,
And Knaves, and Rebels, as they Are, Appear.
Now we may Teach each poor Deluded Thing,
That 'tis not Treason to be for the King.
Where are those Mock-SAINTS now? Thus (as they say)
The Devil VValkes not, when he sees 'tis Day.
O, that They, who did Boast their Cause to be
Most Just, because 'twas Prosperous, would See
What God has Wrought for Him, whom They'd Withstand.
What Wonders God has Shewn to bring this Land
Into Subjection to their Lawfull KING,
(The Theme's too High for Me) let ANGELS Sing.
Yea sure the Heav'nly Host do all Proclaime
The Praise of This Great Act, Due to the Name
Of Him, by whom KINGS Raign. And O that I
Could make my Soule, wing'd with Devotion Flie
To God! And Think (what Words can't reach) His Praise!
Who without Blood has Crown'd our King with Baies,
Brought from Three Conquer'd Nations: Which now He
Holds in Subjestion, but to keep them Free:
Even from that Yoke of Bondage, which of late
So Gall'd our Necks; whilst That, they call'd a State,
Was nought but Madmen sitting at the Helme:
'Twas a Great Bedlam, which is now a Realme.
Worse then Egyptian Bondage This, to be
The Subjects of the Popularity:
And those so Giddy-headed too, that none
Knew what to Do, or what to leave Vndone.
Each little Writer ev'ry week brings in
His Forme of Government: as if't had bin
Not harder to new Mould a Kingdome, then
To get a Standish, and to make a Pen.
Nay HEVVSON, and the like Mechanicks Prate
Like the Supporters of a Ruinous State,
As if they thought it were no more to doe
To Frame a State, then 'tis to make a Shoe.
But those Mad Times are past, and now we are
Even Rescu'd from the Sword without a War.
Without a VVar Great CHARLES His Kingdomes VVon:
Thus straight, when God wil Have't, the Thing is Done.
And now, Blest Prince, sith by Your Suffrings You
Have made the VVorld to know what You can Doe
In Better Times; who Did so well in Ill:
Still Conqu'ring all those Passions, vvhich do Still
Invade th' Opprest: No Fear, or Anger could
Cast your Brave Soule in an Vnchristian Mould,
In all Your Wrongs, and Dangers; still your Mind
Was to Religion, Iustice, GOD, Inclin'd.
Nay vvhen some Griefs, and Troubles needs must come
To get, Great Sir, in Your large Breast some roome,
Your Mind stands Firme, & all rough thoughts Outbraves;
Like Rocks Unmov'd vvith the most Boist'rous Waves.
Since You by Suff'ring Thus, have made us knovv
The True Height of Your Soul. O, may vve Bow,
In a deep Sense of our Felicitie,
To Heaven first, next to Your selfe, our Knee.
Oh, may vve Thankfull be, and sing His Praise,
Who for our Cypress novv has giv'n us Baies:
May vve give GOD and CÆSAR All their Due,
And Him Obey still, in Obeying You.
With Tears of Joy that You are now Come in,
And Sorrow that your MAIESTY has bin
So long Time Absent, vve vvould make a Floud
To wash this Land, Staind vvith Your Fathers Bloud.
Who, both in Life and Death so Conqu'ring Fate,
Was ne're Vnhappy, though Vnfortunate:
What Glory gain'd He by His Sufferings?
He Liv'd, and Dy'd, even like the King of Kings.
O may You Guide us, as He would have done,
Had we not Run into Rebellion.
May You Live Those Great Things, He VVrote; and Be
Your Selfe A New ΕΙΚΩΝ ΒΑΣΙΛΙΚΗ.
To His Great Praise may You still Adde Your Own,
'Till You Change This for an Eternall CROVVN.

TO HIS EXCELLENCY THE LORD GENERAL MONCK.

Goe on, Wise SIR, and make Your Selfe The GREAT,
By Conqu'ring Those, whom You Disdaine to Beat,
What Wonder will Your Bloodlesse Triumphs gaine!
Three Kingdomes Conquer'd, and not One Man Slain!
Your Valour thus, with Matchlesse Prudence, can
Distroy the FOE, and yet not Hurt the Man:
We Long to see the Time, when You'll Appeare
To Be, what Good Men Hope, what Others Fear:
That This Dark CHAOS of Affaires may be
But a Resemblance of the Infancy
Of the CREATION: which began in Night:
Confusion Brought forth Order, Darknesse Light.
Trust not in Your owne Strength: be sure to Doe
What Honour, Law and Conscience Binds You to:
So You may Justly Hope, that HE, whose Hand
Has Set You Up; will give You Power to Stand.
Stand, NOBLE SIR, that Our Bow'd Necks may be
Rais'd by Your Hand to our Old

—Nunquam Libertas gratior extat Quam sub Rege Pio— —Claud.

Liberty
Then, ENGLAND'S Mourning turn'd to Joy, We'll Sing:
CROMWEL Kill'd CHARLES! But MONCK Reviv'd the KING.