Only Drake's facred veffel (which before

Had done and had feen more

Than thofe have done or feen,

Ev'n fince they Coddeffes and this a Star has been)

As a reward for all her labour past,

Is made the feat of reft at last.

Let the cafe now quite alter'd be,
And, as thou went'ft abroad the world to fee,
Let the world now come to fee thee!
The world will do't; for curiofity
Does, no less than devotion, pilgrims make;
And I myself, who now love quiet too,
As much almost as any chair can do,
Would yet a journey take,

An old wheel of that chariot to fee,

Which Phaeton fo rafhly brake:

Yet what could that fay more than thefe remains of Drake?

Great relick! thou too, in this port of ease,
Haft ftill one way of making voyages;
The breath of Fame, like an aufpicious gale

(The great trade-wind which ne'er does fail) Shall drive thee round the world, and thou shalt

IS faid,

'T's folly all, that can be immortal dead,

And I'm afraid they laugh at the vain tears we fhed.

"Tis as if we, who stay behind
In expectation of the wind,

Should pity thofe who pafs'd this freight before,"
And touch the univerfal fhore.

Ah, happy man! who art to fail no more!
And, if it feem ridiculous to grieve
Because our friends are newly come from fea,

Though ne'er fo fair and can it be; What would all fober men believe, If they should hear us fighing fay, "Balcarres, who but th' other day "Did all our love and our refpect command; "At whofe great parts we all amaz'd did itand; "Is from a ftorm, alas! caft fuddenly on land ?". If you will fay-Few perfons upon earth

Did, more than he, deferve to have
A life exempt from fortune and the grave;
Whether you look upon his birth

And ancestors, whofe fame 's fo widely spread-
But ancestors, alas! who long ago are dead—
Or whether you confider more
The vast increase, as fure you ough
Of honour by his labour bought,
And added to the former ftore:

All I can anfwer, is, That I allow
The privilege you plead for; and avow
That, as he well deferv'd, he doth enjoy it now.

Though God, for great and righteous ends,
Which his unerring Providence intends
Erroneous mankind fhould not understand,
Would not permit Balcarres' hand,
(That once with fo much industry and art
Had clos'd the gaping wounds of every part)
To perfect his diftracted nation's cure,
Or stop the fatal bondage 'twas t' endure;
Yet for his pains he foon did him remove,
From all th' oppreflion and the woe
Of his frail body's native foil below,
To his foul's true and peaceful country above:
So Godlike kings, for fecret causes known
Sometimes, but to themfelves alone,

One of their ableft minifters elect,

And fent aproad to treaties, which they' intend Shall never take effect;

But though the treaty wants a happy end, The happy agent wants not the reward, For which he labour'd faithfully and hard; His juft and righteous mafter calls him home, And gives him, near himself, fome honourable

room.

Noble and great endeavours did he bring To fave his country, and restore his king; And, whilst the manly half of him (which

thofe

Who know not Love, to be the whole suppose)
Perform'd all parts of virtue's vigorous life;

The beauteous half, his lovely wife,
Did all his labours and his cares divide;
Nor was a lame nor paralytic fide:
In all the turns of human ftate,
And all th' unjuft attacks of Fate,
She bore her share and portion still,
And would not fuffer any to be ill.
Unfortunate for ever let me be,

If I believe that fuch was he,

Whom, in the forms of bad fuccefs, And all that Error calls unhappiness,

His virtue and his virtuous wife did itill accompany!

With thefe companions 'twas not ftrange That nothing could his temper change. His own and country's union had not weight Enough to crush his mighty mind!

He faw around the hurricanes of ftate, Fixt as an ifland 'gainst the waves and wind. Thus far the greedy fea may reach; All outward things are but the beach; A great man's foul it doth affault in vain! Their God himfelf the ocean doth reftrain With an imperceptible chain, And bid it to go back again. His wifḍom, juftice, and his piety, His courage both to fuffer and to die, His virtues, and his lady too, Were things celeftial. And we see, In spite of quarrelling philofophy, How in this cafe 'tis certain found, That Heav'n ftands ftill, and only carth round.

goes

Acme, enflam'd with what he said,
Rear'd her gently-bending head;
And, her purple mouth with joy
Stretching to the delicious boy,
Twice (and twice could fcarce fuffice)
She kift his drunken rolling eyes.
My little life, my all! (faid fhe)
So may we ever fervants be

To this beft God, and ne'er retain
Our hated liberty again!

So may thy paffion last for me,
As I a paffion have for thee,
Greater and fiercer much than can
Be conceiv'd by thee a man!
Into my marrow is it gone,
Fixt and fettled in the bone;
It reigns not only in my heart,

But runs, like life, through every part.
She fpoke; the God of Love aloud
Sneez'd again; and all the crowd
Of little Loves, that waited by,
Bow'd, and bleft the augury.

This good omen thus from heaven
Like a happy fignal given,

Their loves and lives (all four) embrace,
And hand in hand run all the race.
To poor Septimius (who did now
Nothing elfe but Acme grow)
Acme's bofom was alone
The whole world's imperial throne;
And to faithful Acme's mind
Septimius was all human-kind.

If the Gods would please to be
But advis'd for once by me,
I'd advise them, when they spy
Any illuftrious piety,

To reward her, if it be fhe-
To reward him, if it be he

With fuch a husband, fuch a wife;
With Acme's and Septimius' life.

46

-Qued optanti divûm promittere nemo
Auderet, volvenda dies, en, attulit ultro.”—VIRG.

N Which meet at last fo kindly, and difpenfe

TOW bleffings on you all, ye peaceful stars,

Your univerfal gentle influence

To calm the ftormy world, and ftill the rage of wars!

Nor, whilft around the continent

Plenipotentiary beams ye fent,

Did your pacific lights difdain

In their large treaty to contain The world apart, o'er which do reign

Your seven fair brethren of great Charles's-wain; No ftar amongst ye all did, I believe,

Such vigorous affiftance give,

As that which, thirty years ago,
At Charles's birth, did, in despite
Of the proud fun's meridian light,
His future glories and this year forefhow.
No lefs effects than thefe we may

Be affur'd of from that powerful ray, Which could out-face the fun, and overcome the day.

Aufpicious ftar! again arife,

And take thy noon-tide station in the skies,
Again all heaven prodigioufly adorn;
For lo! thy Charles again is born.
He then was born with and to pain;
With and to joy he's born again.
And, wifely for this fecond birth,
By which thou certain wert to bless
The land with full and flourishing happiness,

Thou mad'ft of that fair month thy choice, In which heaven, air, and fea, and earth, And all that's in them, all, does fmile and does

rejoice.

'Twas a right season; and the very ground Ought with a face of paradife to be found,

Then, when we were to entertain

Felicity and innocence again.

Shall we again (good Heaven!) that blessed pair behold,

Which the abufed people fondly fold

For the bright fruit of the forbidden tree,
By feeking all like Gods to be?
Will Peace her halcyon neft venture to build
Upon a fhore with hipwrecks fill'd,

And truft that fea, where she can hardly fay
She 'as known thefe twenty years one calmy

day?

Ah! mild and gall-lefs dove,

Which doft the pure and candid dwellings love, Canft thou in Albion ftill delight?

Still canft thou think it white?

Will ever fair Religion appear

In these deformed ruins? will she clear

Th' Augean ftables of her churches here?
Will Juftice hazard to be seen

Where a High Court of Justice e'er has been?
Will not the tragic feene,

And Bradshaw's bloody ghoft, affright her there, Her, who fhall never fear?

Then may Whitehall for Charles's feat be fit, If Juftice fhall endure at Westminster to fit.

Of all, methinks we leaft fhould fee
The cheerful looks again of Liberty.
That name of Cromwell, which does freshly still
The curfes of fo many fufferers fill,

Is ftill enough to make her stay,
And jealous for a while remain
Left, as a tempeft carried him away,
Some hurricane fhould bring him back again.

The star that appeared at noon, the day of the king's birth, juft as the king his father was riding to St. Paul's, to give thanks to God for that blefling.

Or, he might juftlier be afraid
Left that great ferpent, which was all a tail
(And in his poifonous folds whole nations pri-
foners made)

Should a third time perhaps prevail
To join again and with worfe fting arife,
As it had done when cut in pieces twice.
Return, return, ye facred Four!
And dread your perifh'd enemies no more.
Your fears are caufelefs all, and vain,
Whilft you return in Charles's train;

For God does him, that he might you, restore,
Nor fhall the world him only call
Defender of the faith, but of you all.

Along with you plenty and riches go,
With a full tide to every port they flow,

With a warm fruitful wind o'er all the country blow.

Honour does as ye march her trumpet found,
The Arts encompass you around,
And, against all alarms of Fear,
Safety itself brings up the rear;
And, in the head of this angelic band,
Lo how the goodly Prince at laft does stand
(0 righteous God!) on his own happy land:
Tis happy now, which could with fo much cafe
Recover from fo defperate a difeafe;

A various complicated ill,
Whofe every fymptom was enough to kill;
In which one part of three frenzy poffeft,
And lethargy the reft:

Tis happy, which no bleeding does endure,
A furfeit of fuch blood to cure :
'Tis happy, which beholds the flame
in which by hoftile hands it ought to burn,
Or that which, if from Heaven it came,
It did but well deferve, all into bonfire turn.
We fear'd (and almoft touch'd the black degree
Of inftant expectation)

That the three dreadful angels we,

Of famine, fword, and plague, fhould here eftablifh'd fee

(God's great triumvirate of defolation!)
To fcourge and to destroy the finful nation.
Juftly might Heaven Protectors such as those,
And fuch Committees for their Safety, impofe
Upon a land which fcarcely better chofe.

We fear'd that the Fanatic war,
Which men against God's houfes did declare,
Would from th' Almighty enemy bring down
A fure deftruction on our own.

}

We read th' instructive hiftorics which tell Of all thofe endless mischiefs that befel The facred town which God had lov'd fo well, After that fatal curfe had once been faid, "His blood be upon ours and on our children's head."

We know, though there a greater blood was fpilt,

'Twas fcarcely done with greater guilt. We know thofe miferies did befal

Whilft they rebell'd against that Prince, whom

all

The reft of mankind did the love and joy of mankind call.

Already was the fhaken nation Into a wild and deform'd chaos brought, And it was hafting on (we thought) Even to the laft of ills-annihilation: When, in the midfl of this confused night, Lo! the bleft Spirit mov'd, and there was light; For, in the glorious General's previous ray,

We faw a new created day:

We by it faw, though yet in mifts it fhone,
The beauteous work of Order moving on.
Where are the men who bragg'd that God did
blefs,

And with the marks of good fuccefs

Sign his allowance of their wickedness?

Vain men! who thought the Divine Power to

find

In the fierce thunder and the violent wind:
God came not till the ftorm was paft;
In the still voice of Peace he came at laft!
The cruel business of deftruction

May by the claws of the great fiend be done:
Here, here we fee th' Almighty's hand indeed,
Both by the beauty of the work we fee 't, and by
the speed.

He who had feen the noble British heir,
Even in that ill, difadvantageous light
With which misfortune ftrives t' abufe our fight-
He who had feen him in his cloud fo bright-
He who had feen the double pair

Of brothers, heavenly good! and fifters, heavenly fair!-

Might have perceiv'd, methinks, with ease (But wicked men fee only what they pleafe) That God had no intent t' extinguifh quite

The pious king's eclipfed right. He who had feen how by the Power Divine All the young branches of this royal line Did in their fire, without confuming, fhineHow through a rough Red-fea they had been led, By wonders guarded, and by wonders fedHow many years of trouble and diftrefs They'd wander'd in their fatal wilderness, And yet did never murmur or repine ;

Might, methinks, plainly understand,
That, after all these conquer'd trials past,

Th' Almighty mercy would at laft
Conduct them with a ftrong unerring hand
To their own Promis'd Land:
For all the glories of the earth

Ought to be entail'd by right of birth;
And all Heaven's bleffings to come down
Upon his race, to whom alone was given
The double royalty of earth and heaven;
Who crown'd the kingly with the martyrs'