Virtus Rediviva Or a Panegyricke On the late King Charls the I. Second Monarch of Great Britain. By Tho. Forde |
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Upon His Sacred Majesties most happy Return, on the
29th. of May 1660. |
 | Virtus Rediviva |  |
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Upon His Sacred Majesties most happy Return, on the 29th. of May 1660.
Avvake dull Muse, the Sun appeares,Open thine eyes, and dry thy teares:
The clouds disperse, and Sable night
Resignes to Charles his conquering light
Batts, Owles, and Night-birds flie away,
Chac'd by the beames of this bright day.
A day design'd by Destinie,
Famous to all Posteritie.
First for the birth of Charles, and now
'Tis His Three Kingdoms Birth-day too.
VVee mov'd before, but knew not how,
We could not say we liv'd, till now.
Like Flies in VVinter, so lay we,
In a dull, senceless Lethargie.
Toucht by his healing beames, we live,
His Presence a new life doth give.
Each loyall heart strook by his Rayes,
Is fill'd with gratitude and praise.
Those Phaëtons who had got the Raine,
And needs would guide great Charles his Waine;
Have found their Folly in their Fate;
And Phœbus now assumes his State.
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To be their shade and covering:
Whilst they injuriously decline
The fruitfull Olive and the Vine
Consuming fire from the Bramble came;
They read their Folly by the Flame.
True Emblems of our giddy age,
Not rul'd by Reason, but by Rage:
The tayle would quarrell with the Head,
And no longer would be Led:
Th'inferiour Members soon give way,
And the Tayle must bear the sway,
Blind as it was, ('to ur misery)
With many a Sting, but never an Eye.
Then were we drag'd through mire & stones,
Which bruisd our flesh, and brake our bones,
Our Feet and Legs foundred and lame,
We saw our Folly in our Shame.
We praid, but no releif could find,
The Tayle was Deaf, as well as Blind:
Drums, Trumpets, Pulpits with their sound,
All our intreaties did confound;
Till pittying Heaven heard our cry,
And God vouchsafes, what men deny.
After a twelve years suffering,
Just Heaven Proclaims Great Charles our King:
Free (like Ulisses) from the harms
Of Forreign Syrens tempting charmes.
And now our Joyfull Land doth ring,
With Iö Pæan's to our King:
All England seemd One bonfire, Night
Seem'd to contend with Day for light.
For Bells our Kingdome hath been fam'd,
And the Ringing-Jsland nam'd:
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Aloud the joyful news doth tell.
That Charles is landed once again,
With Peace, and Plenty, in his Train.
No more shall brother brother kill,
Nor sonnes the blood of fathers spill:
No more shall Mars & Madness rage,
Peace shall bring back the Golden-age.
No more shall Loyalty be Treason,
Errour truth, and non-sence reason;
Nor will we sell our Liberty,
For a too-dear bought Slavery.
No more shall Sacriledge invade
The Church, nor Faction make a trade
Of Holy things; nor Gospel be
Lost in a law-less liberty.
No more hope we to see the time
When to be innocent's a crime.
No more, no more shall armed might
Though Wrong'd, o'recome the weaker Right.
Now shall all jarring discords be
Drown'd in the pleasing Harmony
Of peacefull lawes, whose stiller voice
Shall charme the Drum & Trumpets noise,
The Church shall be Triumphant, more
Than it was Militant before.
The withered Lawrell, and the Bayes
Revive to crown our happy dayes
These, and all other blessings we
Great and Good Charles, Expect from thee:
VVhose Vertues were enough alone,
To give Thee Title to the Crown.
You Conquerd without Arms, Your Words
VVin hearts, better than others Swords.
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Joy in Your Boundless Victory.
What others use to do with blowes,
You by Forgiving kill your foes:
Your mercy doth your Sword reprieve,
And for their faults, You most do grieve.
Your Martyr'd Fathers charity
(His last and greatest Legacy)
You most do prize. Could we but tread
That pace of virtue which you lead,
How quickly should we all agree,
To live in Love and Loyalty!
VVhilst others their rich Presents bring,
All I can give's, GOD SAVE THE KING.
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