 | A panegyrick to his Majesty |  |
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A PANEGYRICK On HIS MAJESTIES HAPPY RETURN.
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At Wor'ster great Gods goodness to our Nation,It was a Conquest, Your bare Preservation.
When 'midst Your fiercest foes on every side
For Your escape God did a LANE provide;
They saw You gone, but whither could not tell,
Star-staring, though they ask'd both Heaven and Hell.
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Of forreign States You since have studied store,And read whole Libraries of Princes o're.
To You all Forts, Towns, Towers and Ships are known,
(But none like those which now become Your OWN)
And though Your Eyes were with all Objects fill'd,
Onely the Good into Your Heart distill'd.
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Garbling mens manners You did well divide,To take the Spaniards wisdom, not their pride.
With French activity You stor'd Your Mind,
Leaving to them their Ficklenesse behind;
And soon did learn, Your Temperance was such,
A sober Industry even from the Dutch.
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But tell us, Gracious Sovereign, from whenceTook You the pattern of Your Patience?
Learn't in Afflictions School, under the Rod,
Which was both us'd and sanctifi'd by God;
From Him alone that Lesson did proceed,
Best Tutor with best Pupil best agreed.
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We, Your dull Subjects, must confess our crime,Who learnt so little in as long a time,
And the same School, thus Dunces poring looks
Mend not themselves, but onely marre their Books.
How vast the difference 'twixt wise and fool?
The Master makes the Schollar, not the School.
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With rich conditions ROME did You invite,Hoping to purchase You their PROSELYTE,
(An empty soul's soon tempted with full Coffers)
Whilst You with sacred scorn refus'd their proffers.
And for the FAITH did earnestly CONTEND
Abroad, which now You do at Home DEFEND.
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Amidst all Storms, Calm to Your Self the while,Saddest Afflictions You did teach to smile.
Some faces best become a Mourning Dress,
And such Your Patience, which did grace Distress,
Whose Soul despising want of worldly pelf,
At lowest ebbe went not beneath it Self.
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Gods JUSTICE now no longer could dispenceWith the Abusing of His PROVIDENCE,
To hear SUCCESSE his APPROBATION styl'd,
And see the Bastard brought against the Child.
[Scripture] by such, who in their own excuse
Their Actings 'gainst Gods Writings did produce.
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The Independent doth the Papist shun,Contrary wayes their violence doth run,
And yet in such a Round at last they met,
That both their SAINTS for MEDIATORS set;
We were not ripe for Mercy, God He knows,
But ready for His Justice were our Foes.
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The Pillar, which Gods people did attend,To them in night a constant Light did lend,
Though Dark unto th' Egyptians behind;
Such was brave MONCK in his reserved mind,
A Riddle to his Foes he did appear,
But to Himself and You, Sense plain and clear.
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By Means unlikely God atchieves his End,And crooked wayes straight to his Honour tend;
The great and ancient Gates of LONDON Town,
(No Gates, no City) now are voted down,
And down were cast, O happy day! for all
Do date our hopeful rising from their fall.
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The Matter of Your Restitution's good,The Manner better, without drop of Bloud,
By a dry Conquest, without forreign hand,
Self-hurt, and now Self-healed, is Our Land.
This silent Turn did make no noise, O strange!
Few saw the changing, all behold the Change.
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So Solomon most wisely did contrive,His Temple should be STIL-BORN though ALIVE.
That stately Structure started from the ground
Unto the Roof, not guilty of the found
Of Iron Tool, all noise therein debarr'd;
This Virgin-Temple thus was seen, not heard.
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When two Protectors were of late proclaim'd,Courting mens tongues, both miss't at what they aim'd,
True English hearts did with just anger burn,
And would no Eccho of GOD SAVE return:
Though smiling silence doth Consent imply,
A Tongue-tied Sorrow flatly doth deny.
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But at Your MAJESTIES first Proclamation,How loud a Stentor did invoice our Nation?
A Mouth without a Tongue was sooner found
In all that Crowd, than Tongue without a sound;
Nor was't a wonder men did silence break,
When Conduits did both French and Spanish speak.
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The Bells aloud did ring, for joy they feltHereafter Sacriledge shall not them melt.
The Bonfires round about the Streets did blaze,
And these NEW LIGHTS Fanatiques did amaze:
The brandisht Swords this Boon begg'd before Death,
Once to be shew'd, then buried in the Sheath.
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The Spaniard looking with a serious Eye,Was forc'd to trespass on his Gravity,
Close to conceal his wondring he desir'd,
But all in vain, who openly admir'd.
The French, who thought the English mad in mind,
Now fear too soon they may them Sober find.
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The Germans seeing this Your sudden Power,Freely confess another Emperour.
The joyful Dane to Heav'ns cast up his Eyes,
Presuming suffering Kings will sympathize.
The Hollanders (first in a sad suspence)
Hop'd, that Your Mercy was their Innocence.
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As aged Jacob with good news intranc'd,That Joseph was both living and advanc'd,
The great surprise so deeply did prevail
On the good Patriarch, that his Heart did fail,
Too little for to lodge so large a joy,
For sudden happiness may much annoy.
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But when he saw (with serious intentTo fetch him home) the Waggons his Son sent,
That Cordial soon his fainting Heart did cure,
'Twas past suspicion, all things then were sure:
The Father his old Spirits did renew,
And found his fears were false, his joyes were true.
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Such Our Condition: At the first ExpressWe could not credit our own Happiness;
Told of the Coming of Your MAJESTY,
Our fainting Hearts did give their Tongues the Lye.
A Boon too big for us (so ill we live)
For to receive, though not for GOD to give.
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But when we saw the ROYAL FLEET at Dover,Voted to wait and waft Your Highness over,
And valiant Mountague (all vertues Friend)
Appointed on Your Person to attend,
Joy from that moment did expell our grief,
Converted into slow, but sure belief.
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Th' impatient Land did for Your prefence long,England in swarms did into Holland throng,
To bring Your Highness home, by th'Parliament
Lords, Commons, Citizens, Divines were sent:
Such honour Subjects never had before,
And hope that never any shall have more.
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With all degrees Your Carriage accords,Most Lord-like Your Reception of the LORDS,
Your Answer with the COMMONS so comply'd
They were to admiration satisfi'd;
Civil the CITIZENS You entertain'd,
As if in LONDON Born, Y'ad there remain'd.
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But, Oh! Your short, but thick expressive lines,Which did both please and profit the DIVINES,
Those Pastors, when returned to their Charge,
For their next Sermon had Your words at large,
With some Notes from Your Practice; who can teach
Our Miters by Your Living what to preach.
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The States of Holland (or Low-Countries now)Unto Your SACRED MAJESTY did bow,
What Air, what Earth, what Water could afford
Best in the Kind, was crowded on their Board:
And yet, when all was done, the ROYAL GUEST,
And not the Chear, He, HE did make the Feast.
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Th'officious Wind to serve You did not fail,But scour'd from West to East to fill Your Sail,
And fearing that his Breath might be too rough,
Prov'd over-civil, and was scarce enough;
Almost You were becalm'd amidst the Main,
Prognostick of Your perfect peaceful Reign.
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Your Narrow Seas, for Forreigners do wrongTo claim them, (surely doth the Ditch belong
Not to the common Continent, but Isle
Inclosed) did on You their Owner smile,
Not the least loss, onely the NASEBY mar'ls
To see her self now drowned in the CHARLES.
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You land at Dover, shoals of People come,And KENT alone now seems all CHRISTENDOM.
The Cornish Rebels (eight score Summers since)
At BLACK HEATH fought against their lawful Prince
Henry the Seventh, which place with Treason stain'd
Its Credit, now by Loyalty regain'd.
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Great LONDON the last station You did make,You took no [illeg.], but LONDON You did take:
Where some, who sav'd themselves amongst the Croud,
Did lose their hearing, shoutings were so loud.
Now at WHITE-HALL the Guard, which You attends,
Keeps out Your Foes, God keep You from Your Friends.
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Thus Far fair Weather on Your Work attended,Let Showres begin now where the Sun-shine ended.
Next day We smil'd at th'weeping of the Skies,
With all Concerns how Providence complies!
The City serv'd, next followeth the Village,
And, Trading quickned, God provides for Tillage.
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One Face, one Forme in all the Land appears,All (former Foot) now Hors'd to CAVALIERS.
As for Your Enemies, their cursed Crew
Are now more hard to find out, than subdue.
'Tis very Death to them, they cannot dye,
Who do know whence, not whither, for to flie.
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France flouts, Spain scorns, and Italy denies themAny access, the Dane with Dutch defies them;
Unto New-England they were known of old,
And now no footing for them on that mold.
Rich Amsterdam (the Staple of all Sects)
These bankrupt Rebels with contempt rejects.
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Thus cruell Cain, who pious blood first spilt,Was Pursevanted after by his Guilt,
With MURDERER imbranded on his face,
Kept his Condition, though he chang'd his place:
Wandring from Land to Land, from shore to shelf,
His guilty Soul nere wandred from it self.
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Let them themselves in unknown Lands disperse,Or if they please with Canibals converse,
Like unto like, that all the World may see
KING-KILLERS and MEN EATERS do agree:
In no Land they'l increase, 'tis Natures love
Unto Mankind, all Monsters barren prove.
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Long live Our Gracious CHARLES, Second to noneIn Honour, who ere sate upon the Throne:
Be You above Your Ancestors renown'd,
Whose Goodness wisely doth Your Greatness bound;
And knowing that You may be What You would,
Are pleased to be onely What You should.
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EUROP's Great ARBITRATOR, in Your choiceIs plac'd of Christendom the CASTING VOICE;
Hold You the Scales in Your Judicious Hand,
And when the equal Beam shall doubtful stand,
As You are pleased to dispose one Grain,
So falls or riseth either France or Spain.
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As Sheba's Queen defective Fame accus'd,Whose nigardly Relations had abus'd
Th' abundant worth of Solomon, and told
Not half of what she after did behold:
The same Your case, Fame hath not done You right,
Our Ears are far out-acted by our Sight.
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Your SELF's the Ship return'd from forreign Trading,England's Your Port, Experience the Lading,
God is the Pilot; and now richly fraught,
Unto the Port the Ship is safely brought:
What's dear to You, is to Your Subjects cheap,
You sow'd with pain, what we with pleasure reap.
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The most renowned EDWARD the CONFESSOR,Was both Your Parallel and Predecessor,
Exil'd He many years did live in France,
(From low Foundations highest Roofs advance)
The Yoak in Youth with patience he bore,
But in his Age the Crown with honour wore.
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The COMMON LAW to him the English owe,On whom a better gift You will bestow:
That which He made by You shall be made good,
That Prince and Peoples rights both understood,
Both may be Bankt in their respective station;
Which done, no fear of future Inundation.
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Oppression, the KINGS EVIL, long indur'd,By others caus'd, by YOU alone thus cur'd:
GOD onely have the glory, You the praise,
And we the profit of our peaceful dayes,
All Forreigners the pattern, for their State
To envy rather than to imitate.
FINIS.
| A panegyrick to his Majesty | |