Whofe rigid letter, while pro

nc'd by you,

Is fofter made. So winds that tempests brew, When through Arabian groves they take their flight,

Made wanton with rich odours, lose their spite.
And as thofe lees, that troubled it, refine
The agitated foul of generous wine :
So tears of joy, for your returning, fpilt;
Work out, and expiate our former guilt.
Methinks I fee thofe crouds on Dover's strand,
Who, in their hafte to welcome you to land,
Chok'd up the beach with their still-growing store,
And made a wilder torrent on the shore :
While, fpurr'd with eager thoughts of paft delight,
Thofe, who had feen you, court a fecond fight;
Preventing ftill your steps, and making hafte
To meet you often wherefoe'er you past.
How fhall 1 fpeak of that triumphant day,
When you renew'd th' expiring pomp of May!
(A month that owns an interest in your name:
You and the flowers are its peculiar claim.)
That ftar, that at your birth fhone out so bright,
It ftain'd the duller fun's meridian light,
Did once again its potent fires renew,
Guiding our eyes to find and worship you.
And now Time's whiter feries is begun,
Which in foft centuries fhall fmoothly run:
Those clouds, that overcaft your morn, fhall fly,
Dispell'd to fartheft corners of the sky.

Our nation with united intereft bleft,

Not now content to poize, fhall fway the reft.
Abroad your empire fhall no limits know,
But, like the fea, in boundless circles flow.
Your much-lov'd fleet fhall, with a wide command,
Befiege the petty monarchs of the land:
And as old Time his offspring fwallow'd down,
Our ocean in its depths all feas fhall drown.
Their wealthy trade from pirates' rapine free,
Our merchants fhall no more adventurers be:
Nor in the fartheft Eaft thofe dangers fear,
Which humble Holland muft diffemble here.
Spain to your gift alone her Indies owes;
For what the powerful takes not he bestows;
And France, that did an exile's presence fear,
May juftly apprehend you ftill too near.
At home the hateful names of parties cease,
And factious fouls are wearied into peace.
The difcontented now are only they,
Whofe crimes before did your just cause betray:
Of those your edicts fome reclaim from fin,
But most your life and bleft example win.
Oh happy prince, whom heaven hath taught the
By paying vows to have more vows to pay!
Oh happy age! Oh times like thofe alone,
By fate referv'd for great Auguftus' throne!
When the joint growth of arms and arts foreshew
The world a monarch, and that monarch you.

[way

Ix that wild deluge where the world was drown'd,
When life and fin one common tomb had found,
The first small profpect of a rifing hill
With various notes of joy the ark did fill :
Yet when that flood in its own depths was
drown'd,

It left behind it falfe and flippery ground;
And the more folemn pomp was still deferr'd,
Till new-born nature in fresh looks appear'd.
Thus, royal fir, to fee you landed here,
Was caufe enough of triumph for a year:
Nor would your care thofe glorious joys repeat,
Till they at once might be fecure and great:

Now our fad ruins are remov'd from fight, The season too comes fraught with new delight: Time feems not now beneath his years to stoop, Nor do his wings with fickly feathers droop : Soft western winds waft o'er the gaudy spring, And open'd fcenes of flowers and bloffoms bring, To grace this happy day, while you appear, Not king of us alone, but of the year. All eyes you draw, and with the eyes the heart: Of your own pomp yourself the greatest part : Loud fhouts the nation's happiness proclaim, And heaven this day is feasted with your name. Your cavalcade the fair fpectators view, From their high ftandings, yet look up to you. From your brave train each fingles out a prey, And longs to date a conqueft from your day. Now charg'd with bleffings while you feek repofe, Officious flumbers hafte your eyes to clofe; And glorious dreams ftand ready to restore The pleafing fhapes of all you faw before. Next to the facred temple you are led, Where waits a crown for your more facred head:

How justly from the church that crown is due,
⚫ Preferv'd from ruin, and reftor'd by you!
The grateful choir their harmony employ,
Not to make greater, but more folemn joy.
Wrapt foft and warm your name is fent on high,
As flames do on the wings of incenfe fly:
Mufic herself is loft, in vain fhe brings
Her choiceft notes to praise the best of kings:
Her melting strains in you a tomb have found,
And lie like bees in their own sweetnels drown'd.
He that brought peace, all difcord could atone,
His name is mufic of itself alone.

Now while the facred oil anoints your head,
And fragrant fcents, begun from you, are spread
Through the large dome; the people's joyful
found,

Sent back, is ftill preferv'd in hallow'd ground;
Which in one bleffing mix'd defcends on you;
As heighten'd fpirits fall in richer dew.
Not that our wishes do increase your store,
Full of yourself you can admit no more:
We add not to your glory, but employ
Our time, like angels, in expreffing joy.
Nor is it duty, or our hopes alone,
Create that joy, but full fruition:

We know thofe bleflings which we muft poffefs,
And judge of future by paft happiness.
No promife can oblige a prince fo much
Still to be good, as long to have been fuch.
A noble emulation heats your breast,

And your own fame now robs you of your reft.
Good actions ftill must be maintain'd with good,
As bodies nourish'd with refembling food.
You have already quench'd fedition's brand;
And cal, which burnt it, only warms the land,

The jealous fects, that dare not truft their caufe
So far from their own will as to the laws,
You for their umpire and their fynod take,
And their appeal alone to Cæfar make.
Kind heaven fo rare a temper did provide,
That guilt repenting might in it confide.
Among our crimes oblivion may be fet:
But 'tis our king's perfection to forget.
Virtues unknown to these rough northern climes
From milder heavens you bring without their
crimes.

Your calmnefs does no after-ftorms provide,
Nor feeming patience mortal anger hide.
When empire first from families did spring,
Then every father govern'd as a king:
But you, that are a fovereign prince, allay
Imperial power with your paternal fway. [berds
From thofe great cares when cafe your foul un-
Your pleafures are design'd to nable ends?
Born to command the mistress of the feas, [pleafe.
Your thoughts themfelves in that blue empire
Hither in fummer evenings you repair
To tafte the fraicheur of the purer air:
Undaunted here you ride, when winter raves,
With Cafar's heart that rofe above the waves.
More I could fing, but fear my numbers ftays;
No loyal fubject dares that courage praise.
In fately frigates moft delight you find,
Where well-drawn battles fire your martial mind.
What to your cares we owe, is learnt from hence,
When ev'n your pleasures serve for our defence.
Beyond your court flows in th' admitted tide,
Where in new depths the wondering fishes glide:
Here in a royal bed the waters fleep;
When, tir'd at fea, within this bay they creep.
Here the mistrustful fowl no harm fufpects,
So fafe are all things which our king protects.
From your lov'd Thames a bleffing yet is due,
Second alone to that it brought in you;
A queen, near whofe chatte womb, ordain'd by
The fouls of kings unborn for bodies wait.
It was your love before made difcord cease:
Your love is deftin'd to your country's peace.
Both Indies, rivals in your bed, provide
With gold or jewels to adorn your bride.
This to a mighty king prefents rich ore,
While that with incenfe does a god implore.

[fate,

Two kingdoms wait your doom, and, as you

choole,

This must receive a crown, or that muft lofe.
Thus from your royal oak, like Jove's of old,
Are answers fought, and deftinies foretold:
Propitious oracles are begg'd with vows,
And crowns that grow upon the facred boughs.
Your fubjects, while you weigh the nation's fate,
Sufpend to both their doubtful love or hate :
Choofe only, fir, that fo they may poffefs
With their own peace their children's happiness

MY LORD,

WHILE flattering crouds officiously appear
To give themselves, not you, an happy year;
And by the greatness of their prefents prove
How much they hope, but not how well they love;
The Mufes, who your early courtship boast,
Though now your flames are with their beauty loft,
Yet watch their time, that, if you have forgot
They were your mistreffes, the world may not:
Decay'd by time and wars, they only prove
Their former beauty by your former love;
And now prefent, as ancient ladies do,
That courted long, at length are forc'd to woo.
For ftill they look on you with fuch kind eyes,
As thofe that fee the church's fovereign rife;
From their own order chofe, in whose high state,
They think themfelves the fecond choice of fate.
When our great monarch into exile went,
Wit and religion fuffer'd banishment.
Thus once, when Troy was wrap'd in fire and
fmoke,

The helpless gods their burning fhrines forfook ;
They with the vanquish'd prince and party go,
And leave their temples empty to the foe.
At length the Mufes ftand, reftor'd again
To that great charge which nature did ordain;
And their lov'd Druids feem reviv'd by fate,
While you difpenfe the laws, and guide the state.
The nation's foul, our monarch, does difpenfe,
Through you, to us, his vital influence;
You are the channel, where thofe fpirits flow,
And work them higher, as to us they go.

In open profpect nothing bounds our eye,
Until the earth feems join'd unto the sky :
So in this hemifphere our utmost view
Is only bounded by our king and you;
Our fight is limited where you are join'd,
And beyond that no farther heaven can find.
So well your virtues do with his agree,
That, though your orbs of different greatness be,
Yet both are for each other's use difpos'd,
His to inclofe, and yours to be inclos'd.

When difincumber'd from these arms she wore.
Heaven would our royal master fhould exceed
Moft in that virtue, which we most did need;
And his mild father (who too late did find
All mercy vain but what with pwer was join'd)
His fatal goodnefs left to fitter times,
Not to increase, but to abfolve our crimes :
But when the heir of this vaft treasure knew
How large a legacy was left to you

(Too great for any object to retain),
He wifely ty'd it to the crown again :

[ore,

Yet, paffing through your hands, it gathers more,
As ftreams, through mines, bear tincture of their
While empiric politicians ufe deceit,
Hide what they give, and cure but by a cheat;
You boldly fhew that skill which they pretend,
And work by means as noble as your end:
Which should you veil, we might unwind the clue,
As men do nature, till we came to you.
And as the Indies were not found, before
Those rich perfumes, which, from the happy shore,
The winds upon their balmy wings convey'd,
Whofe guilty fweetness first their world betray'd;
So by your counfels we are brought to view
A rich and undiscover'd world in you.
By you our monarch does that fame affure,
Which kings must have, or cannot live fecure

[part.

For profperous princes gain their fubjects heart,
Who love that praise in which themfelves have
By you he fits thofe fubjects to obey
As heaven's eternal monarch does convey
His power unfeen, and man to his defigns,
By his bright minifters the ftars, inclines.

Our fetting fun, from his declining feat,
Shot beams of kindness on you, not of heat:
And, when his love was bounded in a few,
That were unhappy that they might be true,
Made you the favourite of his last sad times,
That is a fufferer in his subjects crimes:
Thus those first favours you receiv'd, were fent,
Like heaven's rewards in earthly punishment.
Yet fortune, conscious of your destiny,
Ev'n then took care to lay you foftly by;
And wrap'd your fate among her precious things,
Kept fresh to be unfolded with your king's.
Shewn all at once you dazzled fo our eyes,
As new-born Pallas did the gods furprize :
When, fpringing forth from Jove's new-clofing
wound,

She ftruck the warlike fpear into the ground: Which sprouting leaves did fuddenly inclose, And peaceful olives fhaded as they rofe.

How ftrangely active are the arts of peace, Whose reftlefs motions lefs than wars do cease! Peace is not freed from labour but from noise; And war more force, but not more pains employs :

Such is the mighty swiftness of your mind,
That, like the earth, it leaves our sense behind,
While you fo fmoothly turn and rowl our sphere,
That rapid motion does but reit appear.
For, as in nature's swiftnefs, with the throng
Of flying orbs while ours is borne along,
All feems at reft to the deluded eye,
Mov'd by the foul of the same harmony,
So, carried on by your unwearied care,
We rest in peace, and yet in motion share.

Let envy then those crimes within you fee,
From which the happy never must be free;
Envy, that does with mifery refide,
The joy and the revenge of ruin'd pride.
Think it not hard, if at fo cheap a rate
You can fecure the conftancy of fate,
Whose kindness fent what does their malice feem
By leffer ills the greater to redeem.
Nor can we this weak fhower a tempest call,
But drops of heat, that in the fun-fhine fall.
You have already wearied fortune fo,
She cannot farther be your friend or foe;
But fits all breathlefs, and admires to feel
A fate fo weighty, that it stops her wheel.
In all things elfe above our humble fate,
Your equal mind yet swells not into state,
But, like fome mountain in those happy ifles,
Where in perpetual spring young nature fmiles,
Your greatnefs fhews: no horror to affright,
But trees for fhade, and flowers to court the fight:
Sometimes the hill fubmits itself a while

In small descents, which do its height beguile;
And sometimes mounts, but so as billows play,
Whose rise not hinders, but makes fhort our

way.

Your brow, which does no fear of thunder know,
Sees rowling tempests vainly beat below;
And, like Olympus' top, th' impression wears
Of love and friendship writ in former years.
Yet, unimpair'd with labours, or with time,
Your age but feems to a new youth to climb.
Thus heavenly bodies do our time beget,
And measure change, but share no part of it.
And still it fhall without a weight increase,
Like this new year, whofe motions never ceafe.
For fince the glorious course you have begun
Is led by Charles, as that is by the fun,
It must both weightless and immortal prove,
Because the centre of it is above,

As needy gallants, in the scrivener's hands,
Court the rich knaves that gripe their mortgag'd
The first fat buck of all the feafon's fent, [lands;
And keeper takes no fee in compliment;
The dotage of fome Englishmen is such,
To fawn on those who ruin them, the Dutch.
They shall have all, rather than make a war
With those who of the fame religion are.
The Straits, the Guinea-trade, the herrings too;
Nay, to keep friendship, they fhall pickle you.
Some are refolv'd not to find out the cheat,
But, cuckold-like, love them that do the feat.
What injuries foe'er upon us fall,
Yet still the fame religion answers all.
Religion wheedled us to civil war,
Drew English blood, and Dutchman's now would
Be gull'd no longer for you'll find it true [fpare.
They have no more religion, faith! than you.
Intereft's the god they worship in their state,
And we, I take it, have not much of that.
Well monarchies may own religion's name,
But ftates are athiefts in their very frame.

They share a fin; and fuch proportions fall,
That, like a ftink, 'tis nothing to them all.
Think on their rapine, falfehood, cruelty, [be.
And that what once they were, they ftill would
To one well-born the affront in worse and more,
When he's abus'd and baffled by a boor.
With an ill grace the Dutch their mischiefs do,
They've both ill nature and ill manners too.
Well may they boast themselves an aucient nation;
For they were bred e'er manners were in fashion :
And their new commonwealth has fet them free
Only from honour and civility.

Venetians do not more uncouthly ride,
Than did their lubber state mankind bestride.
Their fway became them with as ill a mien,
As their own paunches fwell above their chin.
Yet is their empire no true growth but humour,
And only two kings' touch can cure the tumour.
As Cato fruits of Afric display;

Let us before our eyes their Indies lay:
All loyal English will like him conclude;
Let Cæfar live, and Carthage be fubdew'd,