An elegy on The Deplorable, and never enough to be Lamented Death, of the Illustrious, and Serene Charles the II. King of Great Britain France, and Ireland, &c. who Departed this Life, (on Friday the 6th of February, between 11 and 12 of the Clock, in the Forenoon: And was Interr'd at Westminster, the 14th of the same Month, being the 55th Year of his Age, 1684/5 [by Peter Ker] |
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 | An elegy on The Deplorable, and never enough to be Lamented Death, of the Illustrious, and Serene Charles the II. King of Great Britain |  |
AN ELEGY, The Deplorable, and never enough to be Lamented Death, of the Illustrious, and Serene CHARLES the II.
[_]
KING OF Great-Britain, France, and Ireland, &c. who Departed this Life, (on Friday the 6th. of February, between 11 and 12. of the Clock, in the Forenoon: And was Interr'd at Westminster, the 14th. of the same Month, being the 55th Year of his Age, 1684/5
Hang all the Streets with Sable Sad; and call
The Royal Palace Black; and not White-Hall:
Weep Sacred Beads of Loyal Tears, and true,
Of Orient Pearl; but Occidental Hew:
Since Britains Phœbus hath forsook the Stage,
Before he reach'd the Tropick of his Age.
The interval betwixt our Setting Sun,
And Rising Soveraign, 'ere his Light begun
Was short; yet (till our Sorrow found Relief)
We were near delug'd in the Seas of Grief.
Yet (tho our Soveraign doth our Mourning 'swage,
And gives our joy of Grief the Weather-gage.)
We'll make no Bonsires, for (it were in vain)
Our flowing Eyes would Weep them out again.
All Isra'l when Good Hezekiah Di'd
To his last Breath, true Loyal Honour pay'd;
Where's then the Boldest Critick can deny
Great CHARLES his worth a Doleful ELEGY;
His Worth, to Times last Period shall Endure,
In spight of Envy or the Grave Secure:
And Children yet Unborn with Tears shall pay
A Mournful Tribute to his sacred Clay.
He from his Child-hood was of great Renown;
He bore his Cross before he wore his Crown.
Brancht in the stock of Trouble ('tis well known)
His Fruit was Ripe, the Blossom yet unblown.
Great-Britains Bane, and Blush Eclips'd his Skie,
Ere England knew his Soveraignity:
But as his Sun ascended the Noon-day,
All Clouds (like Vapours) vanish'd quite away:
And the Bright Calmes of Peace did still remain
Through the whole Circle of his Halcyon Reign.
The Royal Palace Black; and not White-Hall:
Weep Sacred Beads of Loyal Tears, and true,
Of Orient Pearl; but Occidental Hew:
Since Britains Phœbus hath forsook the Stage,
Before he reach'd the Tropick of his Age.
The interval betwixt our Setting Sun,
And Rising Soveraign, 'ere his Light begun
Was short; yet (till our Sorrow found Relief)
We were near delug'd in the Seas of Grief.
Yet (tho our Soveraign doth our Mourning 'swage,
And gives our joy of Grief the Weather-gage.)
We'll make no Bonsires, for (it were in vain)
Our flowing Eyes would Weep them out again.
All Isra'l when Good Hezekiah Di'd
To his last Breath, true Loyal Honour pay'd;
Where's then the Boldest Critick can deny
Great CHARLES his worth a Doleful ELEGY;
His Worth, to Times last Period shall Endure,
In spight of Envy or the Grave Secure:
And Children yet Unborn with Tears shall pay
A Mournful Tribute to his sacred Clay.
He from his Child-hood was of great Renown;
He bore his Cross before he wore his Crown.
Brancht in the stock of Trouble ('tis well known)
His Fruit was Ripe, the Blossom yet unblown.
Great-Britains Bane, and Blush Eclips'd his Skie,
Ere England knew his Soveraignity:
But as his Sun ascended the Noon-day,
All Clouds (like Vapours) vanish'd quite away:
And the Bright Calmes of Peace did still remain
Through the whole Circle of his Halcyon Reign.
Then Rest (dear Saint, tho now Intomb'd in Dust)
Until the Resurrection of the Just.
And let our Mourners mitigate their Grief,
Because our Sorrow cloth admit Relief:
The Vail of Death no Christian needs dismay;
The King of Kings himself did guide the Way.
And (since our Sore a Salve along doth bring)
God save Great JAMES, our Second Soveraign King.
Let his Dominions preface Black with White;
Since Rising Phœbus dissipates our Night:
Let Loyal Subjects all both cry and Sing
Like Birds Reviv'd in the returning Spring.
Let Court and City raise their joyful Voice
And Loyal Sighs still Eccho back Rejoyce:
Till Plotters all Conspiracies lay by,
And Treason turn to purest Loyalty.
Until the Resurrection of the Just.
And let our Mourners mitigate their Grief,
Because our Sorrow cloth admit Relief:
The Vail of Death no Christian needs dismay;
The King of Kings himself did guide the Way.
And (since our Sore a Salve along doth bring)
God save Great JAMES, our Second Soveraign King.
Let his Dominions preface Black with White;
Since Rising Phœbus dissipates our Night:
Let Loyal Subjects all both cry and Sing
Like Birds Reviv'd in the returning Spring.
Let Court and City raise their joyful Voice
And Loyal Sighs still Eccho back Rejoyce:
Till Plotters all Conspiracies lay by,
And Treason turn to purest Loyalty.
Hence then projecting Traytors, stand aloof;
His Loyal Throne is sure, and Treason-Proof:
Lest set on Edge by old Seditious Sinec,
Your Treasons Trap turn round upon your Neck.
His Presence may no Rebels Old Resort,
Nor base-Achitophels frequent his Court;
But Reign in Peace, whil'st we have in our Eye
CHARLES still alive in JAMES'S Royalty.
His Loyal Throne is sure, and Treason-Proof:
Lest set on Edge by old Seditious Sinec,
Your Treasons Trap turn round upon your Neck.
His Presence may no Rebels Old Resort,
Nor base-Achitophels frequent his Court;
But Reign in Peace, whil'st we have in our Eye
CHARLES still alive in JAMES'S Royalty.
But since he's Dead and gone let this sad Verse
(Tho undeserving) yet attend his Herse.
(Tho undeserving) yet attend his Herse.
EPITAPH.
Here lyes Great CHARLES the just the Good,As ever came of Royal Blood:
To Troubles Born, he Early knew
What Kings (as Men) are subject to:
His Morning Glories were orecast,
And by some fatal Star Opprest.
But as his Sun ascended Noon,
The cruel Comet did fall Down,
In Peace he Liv'd, in Peace he Di'd;
The Kingdom and the Churches Guide.
The Guardian of the swelling Main;
The Terrour of the DUTCH and DANE.
At his Commands all War did Cease,
And Europe Owes to him her Peace.
Diseases at his Power did Crouch,
And own the Vertue of his Touch.
Let KINGS and PRINCES in him Glory,
And make his Reign their Directory.
P. K.
| An elegy on The Deplorable, and never enough to be Lamented Death, of the Illustrious, and Serene Charles the II. King of Great Britain | |