 | To the Queen on the birth of the prince |  |
To the QUEEN on the birth of The PRINCE.
Madam,
The
Heavens at last the mighty work have done,
Have blest Your Womb, and given the King a Son.
Long we expected, and impatient grew;
And quarel'd Heaven for being unjust to you:
But mighty things take longer time to frame,
Then those of lesser note, and lesser fame.
The amorous Jove three nights compel'd in one,
To bless the Fair Alcmena with a Son,
Thô he was not for half so much design'd
But to tame brutes, This Prince to rule mankind.
So Heaven a while stood in suspence to find
Out bright materials for so brave a mind.
For Kings are cast with more peculiar care;
That they on Earth who their Vicegerents are,
Should like those Gods, they represent, appear.
Have blest Your Womb, and given the King a Son.
And quarel'd Heaven for being unjust to you:
But mighty things take longer time to frame,
Then those of lesser note, and lesser fame.
The amorous Jove three nights compel'd in one,
To bless the Fair Alcmena with a Son,
Thô he was not for half so much design'd
But to tame brutes, This Prince to rule mankind.
So Heaven a while stood in suspence to find
Out bright materials for so brave a mind.
For Kings are cast with more peculiar care;
That they on Earth who their Vicegerents are,
Should like those Gods, they represent, appear.
But at thy Birth why did no Star attend,
To tell what fortune the Kind Gods would send?
Thy Glorious Uncle was conducted in
By shining lights, which at mid day were seen;
Thô He to Heaven was not more dear then You,
Nor born, Great Babe, more miracles to doe.
To tell what fortune the Kind Gods would send?
Thy Glorious Uncle was conducted in
By shining lights, which at mid day were seen;
Thô He to Heaven was not more dear then You,
Nor born, Great Babe, more miracles to doe.
Goe on Illustrious Queen be fruitfull still
Each Year, and like the Gods great Mother fill
The World with Princes sprung from you, as She
The seats above with her blest progeny.
Till the thrice happy James has counted more;
Then to Great Edward fair Philippa bore:
Till from Your Heavenly Bed we happy count
A Young Black Edward, and a John of Gaunt.
When led we hope by your Victorious Son,
To gain the lillies, which those Heroes won.
The house of Stuart, and of Este joyn'd,
Assures the World the best of Humane Kind;
Each Year, and like the Gods great Mother fill
The World with Princes sprung from you, as She
The seats above with her blest progeny.
Till the thrice happy James has counted more;
Then to Great Edward fair Philippa bore:
Till from Your Heavenly Bed we happy count
A Young Black Edward, and a John of Gaunt.
When led we hope by your Victorious Son,
To gain the lillies, which those Heroes won.
The house of Stuart, and of Este joyn'd,
Assures the World the best of Humane Kind;
And Royal Blood which in His Veins doth run,
Doth promise all that can by Man be done.
Then hear ye Gods an humble Muse's prayer;
(For ye O Gods are still the Muse's care,)
We to the World commend your deathless Names,
We form your Thunder, and destructive Flames,
May He but to His Fathers virtues soar,
We'l Heaven acquit, for Heaven can give no more.
Doth promise all that can by Man be done.
Then hear ye Gods an humble Muse's prayer;
(For ye O Gods are still the Muse's care,)
We to the World commend your deathless Names,
We form your Thunder, and destructive Flames,
May He but to His Fathers virtues soar,
We'l Heaven acquit, for Heaven can give no more.
Bevill Higgons, Fellow Commoner of Trinity Hall.
| To the Queen on the birth of the prince | |