Miscellaneous Poems, with some Remarks on the Death of King Charles the II And the Happy Succession of King James the II. In a Poem to the Magistracy of England. By John Whitehall |
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 | Miscellaneous Poems, with some Remarks on the Death of King Charles the II |  |
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To the Honourable Magistracy of England, Short Remarks on the Death of King CHARLES II. and the happy Succession of King JAMES II.
[I.]
Ye Wise, ye Great, ye Valiant Worthies, Hail!Hail to the Gown and Sword!
True Friends and Servants of our breathless Lord
Why do ye look so drooping and so pale?
Why do ye start and tremble so?
Why do so many doubtful grow?
What more then what is done could we wish Heav'n to do?
Peace to the Sacred Dust.—But wipe off Tears:
By this Mankind may see,
Death is impartial, frail Mortality,
And Monarchs have a limit to their Years.
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II.
Most wondrous was the Nature of his Death,And the distinction of his Fate
Was marvellous and great,
When he resign'd his Breath.
Returns from Death are deny'd common men
But when His summon'd Soul was on the wing
He sojourn'd back agen
To give us all the blessings of a King:
Witness, y'Eternal Pow'rs above,
How tender was this Monarchs Love!
Who would awaken after his decease,
Of Immortality himself divest,
And break his Welcom, his Eternal Rest,
To bless the wav'ring Land with happy Peace.
III.
Be chearful then (Great Souls) let only such despairWho do the Justice of their Monarch fear;
Such who can teach Rebellion with a Zeal,
Who inward motions of Sedition feel,
Who bless the Halcyon-days of Anarchy,
Who Plot, (but fruitless their Designs will be)
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And the old Chaos of a Commonwealth renew:
Let them despond this day to see,
While Ye from Faction free
Enjoy your old Pindarique Liberty,
Whose Honours are engag'd thus much to do,
To guard the King, whose Sacred Life's a Guard to You.
IV.
In the imagination of the CrowdBritain like Daniel's short-liv'd Leopard fell;
And 'twould have pleas'd the Factious Rabble well,
Had Heav'n so much allow'd:
Into a wild Confusion, they
Would cast the shaken Nation; in a Flood
Of Royal Blood
Design'd t'have wash'd the Crown away,
And have brought Bondage in for Liberty,
Might such things licens'd be,
Might Art so much on Nature win,
To extinguish fixed Stars; or to keep Meteors in
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V.
But lo! our Monarchs care,Who would not see the Empire ravish'd, and
By our forc'd Mother stand,
As though he unconcerned were:
But when with an extreme immoderate heat
He found the frantick world begin to burn & sweat,
YOU, ye Noble Souls, he chose,
Whose Loyalty should cancel those
Who a Friends name did bear,
Yet basely did design to play the Ravisher.
VI.
He did Himself (e're all was to Confusion hurl'd)From Faction the Augæan Stables clear;
While He the Crown did wear
He calm'd the stormy world.
Seditious Waves did cease to roar;
Fanaticks and his Passions he had tam'd so well,
'Twas difficult for either to Rebell:
His Justice conquer'd many, but his Mercy more.
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VII.
He sleeps: however ballance Grief with Joy,For Providence designs not to destroy,
But the succeeding Prophet Heaven will
With the dead Prophet's Spirit doubled fill,
And here's Elisha for Elijah still.
How great the Wound? how healing was the Balm?
How fierce the Storm? how timely was the calm?
What two extreams of Joy and Grief we find?
As this weighs down, so that supports Mankind.
VIII.
With this well season'd Act of Providence'Tis easy to dispence,
Britain may bear it with an even sence.
Propitious Heav'n hath been wondrous kind,
And hath great Blessings for the Land design'd,
To take the best of Kings, & leave the best behind.
Oh happy, mourning Isle,
Which hast an equal cause to weep and smile,
Had not this humbling grief been here allow'd,
Excess of Joy would have made Britain proud,
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How great a Monarch rose? how great a Monarch fell?
IX.
Happy Succession! He who th' Crown doth wearIs more than barely of the Kingdoms Heir,
His Brother's Majesties were all his due,
Honours to his vast Soul no limits are,
He will Inherit all his Vertues too.
Peace and Religion Darlings of the Dead,
His dearest best twin Favourites shall find
This Monarch (like his Promise) merciful and kind,
By him they'l be (as his own Off-spring) nourished.
This fresh Addition to our Triumph brings,
And makes me here engage Whitehall shall be the KING'S.
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FAITH.
I.
What is this Faith, of which so little canWork Miracles beyond the Faith of Man?
Which can destroy and save;
Substance of things we hope to have:
By which strong Devils have ejected been
The evidence of things unseen
Which seems itself to be
Almighty as the Deity:
By which we know, our Maker's word gave birth
Both to the Heav'ns, the Seas and Earth,
His Fiat brought this Fabrick forth.
II.
It is the Soul and Wings of Prayer,Which makes it swift as a Post Angel fly
The Ambassage to bear;
It pierces the Almighty's Ear,
And allows God no power to deny.
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But wrestle till it doth the Blessing gain,
While Saul (a Stranger unto it)
Complains, and prays, and finds no benefit;
His heavy Prayer could not Heav'n find;
Alas! he left his Guide, his Faith behind.
III.
With It what Miracles did Moses do?It wonderfully did the Seas divide,
And fabricated Waves on either side,
While Israel passed through.
It smote the Chrystal Flood,
And chang'd the Waters into Blood.
It did the Plagues on Ægypt bring:
It smote the barren Rock, & made the Waters spring:
It did for Joshua like a Champion fight,
And Potent Kings were conquer'd by't.
What tho' Goliah did the Host defie?
Defiance was no Victory.
He wanted Faith, but well-arm'd David knew
The naked Giant could but little do.
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IV.
Through It the half-dead Sarah did Conceive,She did th' Almighty Promiser believe;
By It her barren Womb made fruitful, bears
A mighty Harvest in the Winter of her Years.
It cool'd the Furnace, and the wrathful fire
From Azarias did retire;
Though sev'n times hotter it had heated been,
It was extinguish'd quite by pow'rful Faith within:
The lambent flames about did harmless glide,
Though violent they did appear,
(As those which did th' Almighty hide,
When in the Flaming-Bush he did to Moses come,)
Yet innocent they were,
They had no power to consume;
For why! the Mighty Angel Faith was there.
V.
It did the Lions wrath command,The half-starv'd Beast aloof did stand:
It stood amaz'd,
And on the Prophet gaz'd,
Bound at a distance by Faith's secret hand.
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The storming Winds submit,
Their fury they
Aside do lay,
The angry Billows sleep,
And the fierce Waves are bury'd in the Deep;
Nature it self this Monarch doth obey;
He stopt the Sun in'ts full career,
Charg'd it on Gibeon to stay,
His words were Chains, and bound it there,
It could not tow'ds the West advance;
So great's his Power ev'ry where,
His tuneful Voice will make the gouty Mountains dance.
VI.
To conqu'ring Death all flesh must tribute pay,Yet Death it self this Monarch doth obey,
The Manacles of Tyrant Fate he breaks:
Death strives in vain
The captiv'd Body to retain;
If He the Surge speaks,
The Dead a Strength and Liberty shall have
To burst the Fetters of the Grave:
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He the old Road of dull Mortality did scorn;
Though difficult the Voyage seem'd to be,
Yet Faithful He
The Straits and Land of Death did never see.
Elijah in this fiery Coach did ride,
His Faith the unattempted Whirlwind try'd;
He mounted, and through tractless Air did flie,
Travelling upwards to Eternity.
PATIENCE.
I.
How fretful is Mankind, and vain!He'l bay at Heaven, and complain,
And grumble for fair Weather, or for Rain.
Alas! he is insensible and blind,
And cannot view the good which Providence design'd:
His life's uneasie, and with murm'rings fill'd,
He is with Summer scorch'd, and with cold Winter chill'd.
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Should he with cursing Shimei be try'd,
He neither could the Language bear,
Nor th' ignominious reproachful Stones abide.
II.
Man sees not as his Maker sees,But wrangles still with Providence,
And beareth no affliction with an even sense;
But with impatience doth corrupt his ease;
'Tis difficult his squeamish Soul to please;
To bear th' afflicting Rod he doth not know;
Alas! he'l either stupid grow,
Or with despairing die;
Between th' Extremes he cannot flie;
He'l either madly soar too high,
Or desperately plunge his laden Soul too low.
III.
But Patience doth enthron'd in Ashes sit;Her Substance wasted, Children dead,
Friendship retir'd, and Pity fled,
Yet she the Potsheard takes, and scrapes her Biles with it.
The Pomp of Death, and Funeral Obsequies,
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Though with increasing pain she's prov'd,
Her Anchor's fix'd, she will not now be mov'd:
In vain the Devil doth the storm foment,
In vain fresh Legions of Plagues are sent,
In vain they all temptations try,
She will not curse her God and die.
IV.
She knows that Heav'n relieving succours hath,She knows its Mercy's sure,
'Tis infinite, and will endure,
She knows, and pleads with mighty Faith;
She waits, and strives with God, yet is not bold,
Like the impatient sullen Israelites of old.
The frailty of the flesh she doth expand;
She weeps, yet sheds no hopeless Tears,
She sighs till the Almighty hears,
And is ascertain'd yet t'enjoy the promis'd Land.
V.
Monster Affliction may appearIn any shape, yet not astonish her.
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In Iron Bonds she can behold
More Honour than in Chains of Gold,
And in a Dungeon can a glorious Crown descry:
Let Storms roar loud, and Tempests roul,
Let batt'ring Waves against her flie,
They shall not move her well-fix'd Soul,
They cannot do the Vessel wrong;
Her Faith hath made her wondrous strong,
And Lord thy will be done, is still her strengthing Song.
VI.
Lead her to Flames, and shew her Martyrdom,She will no scruples make,
Nor tremble like the Fire to which she's come,
But cast a lovely smile, and kiss the welcom Stake.
What values she
Which road she sojourn to Eternity?
She with submission lives, and with submission dies
Begging th' acceptance of her self, the Sacrifice,
And shaking off Mortality,
Like th' Angel which to Manoah came
Ascends to Heav'n in a Coach of Flame.
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AMBITION.
I.
What is it that vain man affects to be?Of nothing he was made, yet he
Swells big to reach the title of Deity.
He will forbidden methods try:
Through unattempted ways he'l flie:
His restless Soul aims still to rise up higher,
He will above Mortality aspire,
Let loose the Reigns, and lash the Horses on,
Artless he'l drive the Chariot of the Sun,
Though half the World with his Ambitious self expire.
II.
This Evil's Epidemical;I'th' State Ecclesiastical
Most covet Dignity,
Inferiour Priests would Bishops be;
The Countrey-Curate in the Pulpit lowd
Preaches cramp words to the illit'rate Crowd,
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Begins so small a Benefice to scorn,
And thinks he is to greater Honours born;
Throws by his Linsey-woolsey Gown,
One of prodigious Parts he's grown,
And aims at least to be
Chaplain in Ord'nary
Unto his Majesty;
He thinks all Arts and Languages his own.
Thus he forgets how small he was at first,
And swells, like Æsop's Frog, until he burst.
III.
Thus watchful Students do embraceAll Arts and Sciences,
They Nature in her dark recesses trace,
Till they're familiar with her Mysteries:
From the Alphabet to Lilly they ascend,
Nor will they with great Aristotle end:
They will a further progress go,
Ambitious still to double what they know,
Till they're acquainted with the various worlds above,
Know how the great and lesser Lights do move,
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That each one hath its name particular,
Till mighty Plutarch's Knowledge they contemn,
And the wise Stagyrite's an Ass compar'd to Them.
IV.
The common Souldier would Lieutenant be,Then Captain, and would yet rise higher,
And to the Generals Dignity
Is eager to aspire;
From thence, of greater Honours he takes view,
And will the Title of a Crown pursue;
He'l plead the merit of his Sword in War,
His Wounds, and loss of Blood,
And his ambitious thoughts so headstrong are,
They will not be withstood;
He will the Honours of a Monarch bear,
Nor rests his boundless Spirit there,
Still Crown to Crown like Mountains; he will add,
One Kingdom on another cast,
Have that ambition which th' old Giants had,
And will besiege the Mansions of the Gods at last.
How foolish was Empedocles, and desperate!
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Left the old common Road,
Travell'd to Death through Flames which never had been trod,
And damn'd himself with hopes to be esteem'd a God.
V.
What are these Worlds of Honour worth,That we are all thus eager to come forth?
Pharez and Zarah-like, still striving for the Birth?
From Earths maternal Tomb,
To the Earths fruitful Womb,
Man doth return, and undistinguish'd lies,
Beggars and Kings, the Foolish and the Wise,
Valiant and Weak, the Great and Small,
By the impartial hand of Death together fall:
And yet man vainly tries
To be exceeding Valiant or Great,
Like Adam in his wisest, happiest state,
Serpent Ambition tempts him to be still more wise.
Thus fell the mighty Lucifer of old,
To equal his Creator he was bold;
Ambition first did prompt him to Rebell,
Which pleas'd the Sp'rit so well,
That since from Heav'n he fell,
He triumphs to be known the greatest One in Hell.
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To the University of Oxford.
I.
Hail!All Hail?
Masters of Sacred Sciences,
Fathers of Arts and Languages,
Ye who both Men and Things do know,
Who've traced old coy Nature so,
That y'are acquainted with her Mysteries,
Both things above, and things below,
From th' inehausted Womb of your most fertile brain
(With half a Parents pain)
Noble Off-springs do proceed,
In which the Mothers Beauty we may read;
Each fruitful day produces some great Birth,
Your Fiat makes new Worlds of Learning to jump forth.
II.
Thrice have I view'd, thrice wish'd to sojourn in this Land,In which doth stand
The unforbidden Tree of Knowledge; Thrice
Have begg'd to tast the fruit of this sweet Paradice,
Which (tho' by Nature Man imperfect be,
Yet) by a mystick Chymistry
Improves the Soul with so much odds,
That Mortals seem Immortal as the Gods.
O that I might possess
So great an happiness!
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I could thrice Jacob's time for such a Rachel wait.
III.
Your Sciences I at a distance view,I hear of Arts, and I believe them true,
But what they are I never knew:
Thus of the Deity the Heathens have
Some glimpse, but yet not know enough to save.
Philosophy, Astrology,
Divinity, and Chymistry,
Are glorious things, but all unknown to me.
Thus from afar
We view the Sun, the Moon, and Star,
That they ere shining Bodies we discern,
But cannot their true Magnitude nor Lustre learn.
IV.
I sue, and with no common Zeal I sire,To gather Learnings Manna here with You:
O that I could but write
Sweet as the Mantuan Swan, or mighty Stagyrite!
My lab'ring Muse
Should the full strength of ev'ry sinew use;
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But wrestle till I did the Blessing gain;
A pow'rful Verse might favour find,
And importunity might make some Angel kind.
II.
With vain ambition round the World I roul,In vain I travel far
From Pole to Pole,
To seek where Riches and Preferments are;
In vain I after Honours go:
Alas! too well I know,
Those Heav'ns are shut, there is no entrance there,
Till I'm a Member made by being baptiz'd here.
If in this Styx I might but dipped be,
I should from dang'rous Ignorance be free,
And share of Immortality:
But now the World refuses me, among the Crowd
I cannot be allow'd,
Like Mettal when the Coin is base,
They will not let me pass.
Had I your Stamp, might I be Capp'd & Gown'd,
I then might pass the Universe around.
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The Soul, to a good Conscience.
I.
Welcom! thrice welcom, Sacred Guest!Thou Peace of Life, thou Balm of Death,
Thou Harbinger of an Eternal Rest,
How beaut'ous is thy Face! how fragrant is thy Breath!
Gabriel which to Mary did appear
The tidings of Eternal Peace did bring;
So Thou All hail! All hail! dost sing,
And fill'st me with a Joy, but not a Fear.
Thus Gideon, Peter, Paul,
Convers'd with Sp'rits Angelical;
Yet Thou to me
Dost seem to be
The lovli'st Cherub of them all.
II.
Continue here this night, and be my Guest,Thou shalt not now depart,
Take up thy Lodging in my humble heart,
Like Lot I will prepare my Feast,
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With the unleavened Bread
Of Virtue and of Holiness,
And not the Leaven of the Pharisees:
Oh tarry then this tedious Night,
Until the Dawn of long Eternity!
Thou only canst me free
From the oppressing Sodomite,
And in the last Eternal Day,
When sinful Sodom's ready to expire,
'Tis only Thou canst lead me safe away,
From incens'd Heavens wrath, and the impartial Fire:
III.
Oh bold and noble Champion! whoJoyn'd to thy Sister Faith such Miracles canst do,
Who canst undaunted unto Prisons come,
Canst view the Flames, and smile on Martyrdom,
Who canst, like Paul, unconquer'd bear
Insulting Fates worst Tyranny,
And dost enjoy the greatest Liberty
Then when the flesh does Fetters wear,
Who hourly dost thy strength renew,
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The Earthquake might
The unconverted Jayler much affright,
But thou art stedfast, fix'd, and not astonish'd by't.
IV.
Thy flaming Sword thou brandisnest about,To keep Pollution out;
Th' incestuous Strumpet could not move
Thee with illicens'd Love;
The heart of Joseph thou didst guard,
And the Adultress thence was barr'd,
Oh beauteous Susanna! much in vain
The lustful Elders strove to gain
A conquest o'r thy Modesty and Fame,
To prostitute thy Honour and thy Name;
Tho' Malice did its fruitless self dilate
Thou didst not tremble at the menaces of Fate;
If Daniel had not risen there
To make thy Innocence appear,
With Shadrach thou wouldst chuse in flames t'ave bin,
Rather than stain thy soul with the detested sin,
With welcom Death thou wouldst not have been griev'd,
But triumpht to have seen the Debauchees deceiv'd.
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V.
The mighty Thunders speak aloud,And on the Mount descends a thick dark Cloud;
The sounding Trumpets rend the Sky,
And pointed Lightnings round the World do flie;
Sinai smoaks, for God is there,
The trembling Mountains do their Monarch own and fear.
Oh then! Oh who
Before Him dares appear!
Good conscience thou like Moses this canst do,
Before th' Almighty thou canst go;
Thou canst the holy Mount ascend,
Talk face to face with God, as with thy Friend,
While viler Souls astonish'd stand below,
They see the Lightning, and hear Thunder roar,
Yet for the Living God, the Golden Calf adore.
The Soul, to a bad Conscience.
I
Whence art thou, thou eternal Pain,Thou restless Plague, thou stalking Shade,
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I charge thee hence again:
Why dost thou pinch, and rack, and lash me so?
I do conjure thee let me go;
I'l set my self from all thy tortures free,
Thou fancy'd Devil I will stifle thee,
And triumph in my liberty;
I am not into such a weakness brought,
But I am able sure to grapple with a thought.
II.
In Bacchanalean Feasts I'll drown thy Rage,The Royal Courts thy fury may asswage,
The Sports and Sweets of Love
May thee remove;
If not, I'l travel far
Into some Land beyond thy vast extent,
And tell the deceiv'd World I'm innocent;
If thou pursue me there, and break my Peace,
If there thy rage increase,
Like Pharaoh, I will hardned be
As Plagues augment on me;
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Jesuits shall be more Innocent than I,
I will excell in wickedness, and matchless die.
I'l cast my self upon sins spacious Main,
And sail where yet no Nero e'r hath been,
Into strange worlds of unknown sin,
And never feel the qualms of Conscience again:
I'l chain thee in some cavern of the Earth,
And if my wandring thoughts should err astray,
If they meet Heav'n or Virtue in the way,
Do not attempt to enter forth,
For if thou dost, I'l choak thee in thy birth.
III.
Why follows Cæsar guilty Brutus still?Why dost so oft appear,
To charge me with a well-remembred ill?
Thou sinkest there,
And risest here,
I flie from thee in vain,
Who wilt not suffer me one minutes peace to gain;
With friendly night wrap up that wounded breast,
Brutus his wound gapes wider than the rest.
Sink, sink, thou Shade, ten thousand fathom deep,
Be bury'd in Eternal Sleep;
Oh do not still pursue me, restless Ghost!
Hence thou Tormentor, hence;
Alas! in thee I've lost
The Sacred Peace of Maiden Innocence,
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Astonish'd at the action of my too rash hand.
IV.
I thought that charming David's tuneful Lyre,Touch'd with his skilful hand,
Might thee command,
And urge thy evil Spirit to retire:
But now (alas!) I see
How vain all these attempts would be;
Contagious Wickedness is thy Disease,
Too long thou hast incensed been
With loathsom, rank, deformed sin,
And none but Christ thy Fever can appease.
I've tasted the forbidden Tree,
And by the bold presumptous Vice
Have made an Hell of Paradice,
And from thy presence vainly strive to flee,
And cannot hide my guilty self from God and Thee.
I'l kneel in Sackcloth, and I'l humbly pray,
That with the precious Flood
Of Christ's most meritorious Blood,
He'l wash my sins away;
I shall no longer then thy stings abide,
But them, together with my sins, I'l hide
In my dear Saviour's wounded Side.
FINIS.
| Miscellaneous Poems, with some Remarks on the Death of King Charles the II | |