 | The Royall Slave |  |
THE EPILOGVE TO THE KING & QUEENE.
Crat.Those glorious Triumphs of the Persian Court
Are honour'd much in being made your sport.
The Slave though freed by th'King, and his Priest too,
Thinkes not his Pardon good, till seal'd by you:
And hopes, although his faults have many beene,
To finde here too the Favour of a Queene.
For 'tis our forward duty that hath showne
These loyall faults in honour to your Throne.
Great joy doth bring some madnesse with it still;
We challenge that as title to doe ill.
Can you expect then perfect motion, where
'Tis the Digression only of our Spheare
Which wheeles in this new course, t'expresse the sense
Of your approach, it's best Intelligence?
O were you still fix'd to it! your resort,
Makes us desire an everlasting Court.
And though wee've read you o're so long, that we
Begin to know each line of Majesty,
We thinke you snatch'd too soone, and grieve, as they
Who for an halfe yeare's night, part with their day.
And shall, till your returne, though you appeare
In favours still, thinke darkenesse in our Spheare.
Your sight will be preserv'd yet, though you rise:
When e're you goe, Great Sir, hearts will have eyes.
| The Royall Slave | |