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While you fo fmoothly turn and rowl our sphere,
That rapid motion does but reft appear.
For, as in nature's fwiftnefs, with the throng
Of flying orbs while ours is born along,
All seems at reft to the deluded eye,
Mov'd by the foul of the fame harmony:
So, carry'd on by your unwearied care,
We reft in peace, and yet in motion share.
Let envy then thofe 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,

Whofe kindness fent what does their malice feem,.
By leffer ills the greater to redeem.

Nor can we this weak fhow'r a tempeft call,
But drops of heat, that in the fun-fhine fail.
You have already weary'd fortune fo,
She cannot further be your friend or foe;
But fits all breathlefs, and admires to feel
A fate fo weighty, that it ftops her wheel.
In all things elfe above our humble fate,
Your equal mind yet fwells not into state:
But, like fome mountain in thofe happy iflès,
Where in perpetual fpring young nature fmiles,
Your greatnefs fhews; no horror to affright,
But trees for fhade, and flow'rs to court the fight.
Sometimes the hill fubmits itfelf a while
In fmall defcents, which do its heighth beguile;
And fometimes mounts, but fo as billows play,
Whofe rife not hinders, but makes fhort our way.

age

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

ANNUS MIRABILIS:

THE

YEAR OF WONDERS,

M, DC, LXVI.

AN

HISTORICAL POEM.

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