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A POEM ON THE CORONATION OF JAMES the II. King OF Great-Britain, France and Ireland, &c. Who was Crowned at Wistminster-Abey the 23th of April, 1685

Julium Sidus micat inter omnes, velut inter ignes Luna Minores Horat.



A thron's Promotions Pyramid, and Kings
Are God's Vicegerants, and the Healthful Springs
Whence Judgment both and Equity do flow,
To cause the Flowers of Peace and Plenty Grow,
Which bear, and yield the Fruits of sweet Content,
The Root and Nosegey of a Government.
For as the Sun darts forth his Beams and Light,
To clear the World from Darkness of the Night;
A Gracious King makes Anarchy to Flye,
By Justice joyn'd with Soveraignity.
'Tis Providence (that's nominated Fate)
Guides and Governs all things in Church and State.
Promotion and a Kingdoms Royal Crown
Comes not by Chance; 'tis God alone throws down
The Proud; Exalting those (who for Defence)
Take his decree and sure Omnipotence.
Now since the Triumph of this joyful Day
Hath turn'd the Wheels of an Hyperbole;
And Expectation hath conceiv'd in Vain
A Gemini; and Labour without Pain
Hath brought forth One, who is (without Contest)
Of Royal Blood, and Soveraign Kings the Best:
Great JAMES, who with his Conquest of Renown,
And Sacred Head, hath honour'd Englands Crown;
Let all his Subjects sound and eccho forth
A Loyal Simphonia to his Worth.
The first rate Soveraign that was sadly tost,
From Wind to Wave, and was given o'r for Lost,
'Twixt Scilla and Charibdis, now hath past
The Shore of Shipwracks, and Arriv'd at last
At that safe Harbour, where (tho Billows Rore)
No Tempest can prevail against him More.
Call and conveen the Hystories of Time,
With all the Poems have been Wrote in Rhyme,
And all the Hyrogliphicks that have been
'Twixt Trismegistas and late Guiccardeen:
Then let the great Chronologers point forth
A Prince that was more Eminent in Worth;
For Gratitude (the Glory of a King,
The Life of Loyalty, and only thing
That Binds a Subject firmly to persist
In Truth, to live and Die a Loyallist)


Is his Predominant; he casts an Eye
On those who did prove True, when Anarchy
Eclips'd the Royal Race; and doth repay
Their Deeds and Service, till this very Day.
And furthermore, (as 'tis by all Confest)
Our present MARY is of Queens the Best;
Tho Malice Judge and Envy's Jury Sit
Upon her Size, no Blemish shee'll admit;
Her spotless Reputation doth Defie
The rigid Critick of Hypocrecy.
Cast all the vertues to one Total worth,
Her Sume of partes will point the Product forth.
But why should I presume thus to rehearse
A Them that's far beyond the reach of Verse.
Her innate Candor sendeth forth a Light,
Can show her Splendour, in the darkest Night.
Her Fame's enough her person to extole,
And send her praises to the Artick-Pole.
And tho blind Mortals now should not her prize,
Yet after ages will her canonize.
Hence then State-grumbling Criticks get ye gon,
With all your prancks of Combination.
In Israel the Scismaticks and Sects
The very Prince of Peace himself did vex;
So Trimmers now, and Counterfeits throw dirt
At Church and State; and make Religion Squirt.
Yet thou Great JAMES Vicegerant unto God,
Whos Providence hath brought Thee safe, dry-shod,
Through that Red-Sea which threatned to fall down
Upon thine Highness, and o'rwhelm thy Crown,
Minde his great power; and keep before thine eye
His Glory; that thy Name may never dye;
But have (when thou art laid in Earths vast Womb)
The Good and Great Engraven on thy Tombe.
All flesh is grass; turn back, and look behind
The vail of by past ages; and thou'lt fiind
Time's glistering Gloryes are but shadowes vain;
And Man once Dead returneth not again:
Crowns are but Cobwebs, and the Life of Man
Compaired to Long Eternity's a Span.
P. K.