Cowley. Denham. Milton. Butler. Rochester. Roscommon. Otway. Waller. Pomfret ...

You know your work; ambition to restrain,
And fet them bounds, as Heaven does to the main.
We have you now with ruling wisdom fraught,
Not fuch as books, but fuch as practice, taught.
So the loft fun, while leaft by us enjoy'd,
Is the whole night for our concerns employ'd:
He ripens fpices, fruit, and precious gums,
Which from remoteft regions hither comes.

This cat of yours (from th' other world remov'd)

Had Archimedes known, he might have prov'd
His engine's force, fix'd here; your power and skill
Make the world's motion wait upon your will.
Much-fuffering Monarch! the first English-
born,

That has the crown of these three nations worn!
How has your patience with the barbarous rage
Of your own foil contended half an age?
Till (your try'd virtue and your facred word
At laft preventing your unwilling (word)
Armies and fleets, which kept you out fo long,
Own'd their great Sovereign, and redress'd his
wrong.

When ftrait the people, by no force compell'd,
Nor longer from their inclination held,
Break forth at once, like powder fet on fire;
And, with a noble rage, their King require.
So th' injur'd fea, which from her wonted courfe,
To gain fome acres, avarice did force,
If the new banks, neglected once, decay,
No longer will from her old channel stay;
Raging, the late-got land fhe overflows,
And all that's built upon 't to ruin goes.

Offenders now, the chiefeft, do begin
To ftrive for grace, and expiate their fin:
All winds blow fair, that did the world embroil;
Your vipers treacle yield, and scorpions oil.

If then fuch praife the Macedonian got,
For having rudely cut the Gordian knot;
What glory's due to him, that could divide
Such ravel'd interefts? has the knot unty'd,
And, without stroke, so smooth a paffage made,
Where craft and malice fuch impeachments laid?
But while we praise you, you afcribe it all
To his high hand, which threw the untouch'd wall
Of felf-demolish'd Jericho fo low:

His Angel 'twas that did before you go;
Tam'd favage hearts, and made affections yield,
Like ears of corn when wind falutes the field.
Thus, patience crown'd, like Job's, your trou-
ble ends,

Having your foes to pardon, and your friends:
For, though your courage were so firm a rock,
What private virtue could endure the fhock?
Like your Great Mafter, you the storm withstood,
And pity'd thofe who love with frailty fhew'd.

Rude Indians, torturing all the royal race, Him with the throne and dear-bought fceptre grace

'That fuffers beft: what region could be found, Where your heroic head had not been crown'd?

The next experience of your mighty mind Is, how you combat Fortune now the's kind: And this way too you are victorious found; She flatters with the fame fuccefs the frown'd. Alexander.

While, to yourself fevere, to others kind,
With power unbounded, and a will confin'd,
Of this vaft empire you poffefs the care,
The fofter parts fall to the people's share.
Safety and equal government are things
Which fubjects make as happy as their kings.

Faith, law, and piety (that banish'd train!) Juftice and truth, with you return again: The city's trade, and country's eafy life, Once more fhall flourish, without fraud or ftrife. Your reign no less affures the ploughman's peace, Than the warm fun advances his increase; And does the fhepherds as fecurely keep From all their fears, as they preferve their sheep But above all, the Mufe-infpired train Triumph, and raise their drooping heads again: Kind heaven at once has, in your perfon, fent Their facred judge, their guard, and argument. "Nec magis expreffi vultus per ahena figna, "Quam per vatis opus mores,animique virorum "Clarorum * apparent HOLAT.

ON ST. JAMES'S PARK,

AS LATELY IMPROVED BY HIS MAJESTY'.

F the firft paradife there's nothing found, Plants fet by Heaven are vanish'd, and the ground;

Yet the defcription lafts: who knows the fate Of lines that hall this paradife relate?

Inftead of rivers rolling by the fide Of Eden's garden, here flows in the tide : The fea, which always ferv'd his empire, now Pays tribute to our Prince's pleasure too. Of famous cities we the founders know; But rivers old as feas, to which they go, Are nature's bounty: 'tis of more renown To make a river, than to build a town.

For future fhade, young trees upon the banks Of the new stream appear in even ranks: The voice of Orpheus, or Amphion's hand, In better order could not make them ftand. May they increase as fast, and spread their bough As the high fame of their great Owner grows May he live long enough to fee them all Dark fhadows caft, and his palace tall! Methinks I fee the love that shall be made, The lovers walking in that amorous shade : The gallants dancing by the river fide; They bathe in fummer, and in winter flide. Methinks I hear the mufic in the boats, And the loud Echo which returns the notes: While overhead a flock of new-fprung fow! Hangs in the air, and does the fun control, Darkening the tfky they hover o'er, and fhrowi The wanton failors with a feather'd cloud. Beneath, a fhoal of filver fifhes glides, And plays about the gilded barges' fides: The Ladies, angling in the crystal lake, Feaft on the waters with the prey they tale: • First printed in folio, 1661. † In folio edit. the air they hover,' &c.

At once victorious with their lines and eyes,
They make the fishes and the men their prize.
A thousand Cupids on the billows ride,
And Sea-Nymphs enter with the fwelling tide:
From Thetis fent as fpies, to make report,
And tell the wonders of her Sovereign's Court.
All that can, living, feed the greedy eye,
Or dead, the palate, here you may defery;
The choiceft things that furnish'd Noah's ark,
Or Peter's fheet, inhabiting this Park :
All with a border of rich fruit-trees crown'd,
Whofe loaded branches hide the lofty mound.
Such various ways the spacious alleys lead,
My doubtful Mufe knows not what path to tread.
Yonder, the harveft of cold months laid up,
Gives a fresh coolness to the royal cup :
There ice, like crystal, firm, and never loft,
Tempers hot July with December's froft;
Winter's dark prifon, whence he cannot fly,
Though the warm Spring, his enemy, draws nigh.
Strange! that extremes should thus preferve the
fnow,

High on the Alps, and in deep caves below.

Here a well-polish'd Mall gives us the joy,
To see our Prince his matchlefs force employ :
His manly posture, and his graceful mein,
Vigour and youth in all his motions feen;
His fhape fo lovely, and his limbs fo strong,
Confirm our hopes we fhall obey him long.
No fooner has he touch'd the flying ball,
But 'tis already more than half the Mall:
And fuch a fury from his arm has got,
As from a fmoking culverin 'twere fhot.
May that ill fate his enemies befall,
To ftand before his anger or his ball!

It gives them crowns, and does their ashes keep;
There made like Gods, like mortals there they
fleep:

Making the circle of their reign complete,
Those funs of empire! where they rife, they fet.
When others fell, this ftanding did prefage
The crown fhould triumph over popular rage:
Hard by that Houfe where all our ills were
fhap'd,

Th' aufpicious temple food, and yet escap'd.
So, fnow on Ætna does unmelted lie,
Whence rolling flames and scatter'd cinders fly;
The diftant country in the ruin fhares,
What falls from heaven the burning mountain
fpares.

Next, that § capacious Hall he fees, the room
Where the whole nation does for juftice come:
Under whofe large roof flourishes the gown,
And judges grave on high tribunals frown.
Here like the people's paftor he does go,
His flock fubjected to his view below:
On which reflecting in his mighty mind,
No private paffion does indulgence find:
The pleasures of his youth fufpended are,
And made a facrifice to public care.
Here, free from court-compliances, he walks;
And with himself his beft adviser, talks;
How peaceful olive may his temples shade,
For mending laws, and for restoring trade :
Or, how his brows may be with laurel charg'd,
For nations conquer'd, and our bounds enlarg'd.
Of ancient produce here he ruminates,
Of rifing kingdoms, and of falling states:
What ruling arts gave great Auguftus fame;
And how Alcides purchas'd fuch a name.

Near this my Mufe, what most delights her, His eyes, upon his native Palace bent,

fees

A living gallery of aged trees:

Bold fons of earth, that thruft their arms fo high,
As if once more they would invade the sky.
In fuch green palaces the firft Kings reign'd,
Slept in their fhades, and Angels entertain'd:
With fuch old counfellors they did advise,
And, by frequenting facred groves, grew wife.
Free from th' impediments of light and noise,
Man, thus retir'd, his nobler thoughts employs.
Here Charles contrives the ordering of his ftates,
Here he refolves his neighbouring Princes' fates:
What nation shall have peace, where war be made,
Determin'd is in this oraculous fhade;
The world, from India to the frozen North,
Concern'd in what this folitude brings forth.
His fancy objects from his view receives;
The profpect thought and contemplation gives.
The feat of empire here falutes his eye,

To which three kingdoms do themfelves apply;
The structure by a Prelate rais'd, Whitehall,
Built with the fortune of Rome's Capitol:
Both, difproportion'd to the prefent state
Of their proud founders, were approv'd by Fate.
From hence he does that † antique pile behold,
Where royal heads receive the facred gold:

* Cardinal Wolfey. † Weftminster-Abbey.
VOL. II.

Close by, fuggefts a greater argument:
His thoughts rife higher, when he does reflect
On what the world may from that star expect,
Which at his birth appear'd; to let us fee,
Day, for his fake, could with the night agree:
A Prince, on whom fuch different lights did smile
Born the divided world to reconcile!

Whatever Heaven, or high-extracted blood,
Could promife, or foretel, he will make good:
Reform these nations, and improve them more,
Than this fair Park, from what it was before.

Provoke the German, and neglecting Heaven,
Forget the truce for which his oath was given.
His Grand Vifier, prefuming to invest
The chief imperial city of the West,
With the first charge compell'd in haste to rife,
His treafure, tents, and cannon, left a prize:
The ftandard loft, and Janizaries flain,
Render the hopes he gave his master vain.
The flying Turks, that bring the tidings home,
Renew the memory of his father's doom:
And his guard murmurs, that fo often brings
Down from the throne their unsuccessful Kings.
The trembling Sultan's forc'd to expiate
His own ill-conduct by another's fate:
The Grand Vifier, a tyrant, though a flave,
A fair example to his mafter gave;
He Baffa's heads, to fave his own made fly,
And now, the Sultan to preferve, must die.

The fatal bow-string was not in his thought,
When, breaking truce, he fo unjustly fought:
Made the world tremble with a numerous hoft,
And of undoubted victory did boast.
Strangled he lies! yet feems to cry aloud,
To warn the mighty, and inftrud the proud,
That of the Great, neglecting to be juft,
Heaven in a moment makes an heap of duft.
The Turks fo low, why fhould the Chriftian
lofe

Such an advantage of their barbarous focs?
Neglect their prefent ruin to complete,
Before another Solyman they get?

Too late they would with fhame, repenting, dread
That numerous herd, by fuch a lion led
He Rhodes and Buda from the Chriftians tore,
Which timely union might again restore.

But, fparing Turks, as if with rage poffeft,
The Chriftians perifh, by thenfelves opprest:
Cities and provinces fo dearly won,
That the victorious people are undone !

What Angel fhall defcend, to reconcile
The Chriftian-ftates, and end their guilty toil?
A Prince more fit from Heaven we cannot afk,
Than Britain's King, for fuch a glorious task:
His dreadful navy, and his lovely mind,
Gives them the fear and favour of mankind.
His warrant does the Chriftian fate defend;
On that relying, all their quarrels end.
The peace is fign'd, and Britain does obtain,
What Rome had fought from her fierce fons in

vain.

In battles won, Fortune a part doth claim,
And foldiers have their portion in the fame:
In this fuccefsful union we find
Only the triumph of a worthy mind.
'Tis all accomplish'd by his royal werd,
Without unheathing the deftructive fword:
Without a tax upon his fubjects laid,
Their peace difturb'd, their plenty, or their trade.
And what can they to fuch a Prince deny,
With whofe defires the greatest Kings comply?

The arts of peace are not to him unknown,
This happy way he march'd into the throne:
And we owe more to Heaven, than to the fword,
The wish'd return of fo benign a Lord.

* Vienna.

SICKNESS.

AREWELL the year which threaten'd fo
The fairest light the world can fhow.
Welcome the new! whofe every day,
Reftoring what has fnatch'd away
By pining fickness from the Fair,
That matchlefs beauty does repair;
So faft, that the approaching (pring
(Which does to flowery meadows bring
What the rude winter from them tore)
Shall give her all the had before.

But we recover not so fast
The fenfe of fuch a danger paft;
We, that esteem'd you fent from Heaven,
A pattern to this Ifland given;
To fhew us what the Blefs'd do there,
And what alive they practis'd here;
When that which we immortal thought,
We faw fo near deftruction brought,
Felt all which you did then endure:
And tremble yet, as not fecure.
So, though the fun victorious be,
And from a dark eclipfe fet free;
The influence, which we foadly fear,
Aflies our thoughts the following year.
But, that which may relieve our care
Is, that you have a help fo near
For all the evil you can prove;
The kindness of your Royal Love.
He that was never known to mourn,
So many kingdoms from him torn,
His tears referv'd for you: more dear,
More priz'd than all these kingdoms were!
For, when no healing art prevail'd,
When cordials and elixirs fail'd,
On your pale cheek he dropt the shower,
Reviv'd you like a dying flower.

May all thofe years, which Catharine' The Martyr did for heaven refign

Be added to the line

Of your bleft life among us here!
For all the pains that fhe did feel,
And all the torments of her wheel,
May you as many pleasures fhare!
May Heaven itfelf content
With Catharine the Saint!
With appearing old,

An hundred times may you,
With eyes as bright as now,
This welcome day behold!

And for that look which does your people awe,
When in your throne and robes you give them law,
Lay it by here; and give a gentler smile!
Such as we fee great Jove's in picture, while
He liftens to Apollo's charming lyre,
Or judges of the fongs he does infpire.
Comedians on the Stage fhew all their skill:
And after do as love and fortune will:
We are less careful, hid in this disguise;
In our own clothes more ferious, and more wife.
Modeft at home, upon the Stage more bold;
We feem warm lovers, though our breafts be cold;
A fault committed here deferves no fcorn,
If we act well the parts to which we're born.

OF HER

MAJESTY,

ON NEW-YEAR'S DAY, 1683.

THAT revolutions in the world have been !
How are we chang'd, fince we first faw
the Queen?

She, like the Sun, does kill the fame appear;
Bright as she was at her arrival here!
Time has commiffion mortals to impair,
But things cœleftial is oblig'd to fpare.

May every new year find her ftill the fame,
In health and beauty, as fhe hither came !
When Lords and Commons, with united voice,
Th' Infanta nam'd, approv'd the royal choice:
First of our Queens, whom not the King alone,
But the whole nation, lifted to the throne.

With like confent, and like defert, was crown'd The glorious Prince, that does the Turk confound.

Victorious both! His conduct wins the day;
And her example chaces vice away.
Though louder fame attend the martial rage,
'Tis greater glory to reform the age.

"EROIC Nymph! in tempefts the support, In peace the glory, of the British Court! Into whole arms, the Church, the State, and all That precious is, or facred here, did fall. Ages to come that fhall your bounty hear, Will think you miftrefs of the Indies were: Though freighter bounds your fortune did confine, In your large heart was found a wealthy mine:) Like the bleft oil, the widow's lafting feaft, Your treasure, as you pour'd it out, increas'd. While fome your beauty, fome your bounty fing, Your native ifle does with your praifes ring: But above all, a *Nymph of your own train, Gives us your character in such a strain,

As none but the, who in that Court did dwell, Could know fuch worth; or worth defcribe fo

While peace from hence, and you, were gone,
Your houses in that storm o'erthrown,
Thofe wounds which civil rage did give,
At once you pardon and relieve.

Conftant to England in your love,
As birds are to their wonted grove;
Though by rude hands their nefts are spoil'd,
There, the next spring, again they build.

Accufing fome malignant star,
Not Britain, for that fatal war;
Your kindness banishes your fear,
Refolv'd to fix for ever here.

But what new mine this work fupplies?
Can fuch a pile from ruin rife?
This like the first creation fhows,
As if at your command it rofe.

Frugality and bounty too,

Thofe different virtues) meet in you;
From a confin'd, well-manag'd store,
You both employ and fced the poor.

Let foreign Princes vainly boast
The rude effects of pride and cost;
Of vafter fabrics, to which they
Contribute nothing but the pay.
This, by the Queen herfelf defign'd,
Gives us a pattern of her mind :
The state and order does proclaim
The genius of that Royal Dame.
Each part with just proportion grac'd;
And all to fuch advantage plac'd;
That the fair view her window yields,
The town, the river, and the fields,
Entering, beneath us we defcry,
And wonder how we came fo high.

She needs no weary steps afcend;
All feems before her feet to bend :
And here, as she was born, the lies;
High, without taking pains to rise.

OF A TREE CUT IN PAPER.

Flat from the stain of ink preferve it white,

'AIR hand! that can on virgin-paper write.

Whofe travel o'er that filver field does fhow, Like track of leverets in morning fnow. Love's image thus in pureft minds is wrought, | Without a fpot or blemish, to the thought. Strange that your fingers fhould the pencil fail, Without the help of colours or of oil! For,though a painter boughs and leaves can make, 'Tis you alone can make them bend and shake: Whofe breath falutes your new-created grove. Like fouthern winds, and makes it gently move. Orpheus could make the foreft dance; but you Can make the motion and the foreft toe.

N All they fubdue becomes their spies:

OTHING lies hid from radiant eyes;

Secrets, as choiceft jewels, are
Prefented to oblige the Fair:

No wonder then, that a loft thought
Should there be found, where fouls are caught.

The picture of fair Venus (that
For which men say the Goddess fat)
Was loft, till Lely from your look
Again that glorious image took.

If Virtue's felf were loft, we might From your fair mind new copies write: All things, but one, you can restore; The heart you get returns no more,

OF THE LADY MARY,

PRINCESS OF ORANGE.

S once the lion honey gave Out of the strong fuch sweetness came; A royal Hero, no less brave,

Produc'd this fweet, this lovely dame. To her, the Prince that did oppofe

Such mighty armies in the field, And Holland from prevailing foes

Could fo well free, himself does yield. Not Belgia's fleet (his high command) Which triumphs where the fun does rift; Nor all the force he leads by land,

Could guard him her conquering eyes.
Orange, with youth, experience has;
In action young, in council old:

* Henrietta Maria, Queen Dowager of King Orange is what Auguftus was, Charles I.

Brave, wary, provident, and bold.

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