Yet for his pains he soon did him remove, To his soul's true and peaceful country above: And sent abroad to treaties, which they' intend But, though the treaty wants a happy end, Noble and great endeavours did he bring To save his country, and restore his king; And, whilst the manly half of him (which those 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 side: In all the turns of human state, And all th' unjust attacks of Fate, She bore her share and portion still, And would not suffer any to be ill. Unfortunate for ever let me be, If I believe that such was he Whom in the storms of bad success, With these companions 'twas not strange And bid it to go back again. His wisdom, justice, and his piety, And we see, In spite of quarrelling Philosophy, How in this case 'tis certain found, That Heaven stands still,and only Earth goes round. ODE. UPON DR. HARVEY. Cor Nature (which remain'd, though aged grown, When Harvey's violent passion she did see, Took sanctuary, like Daphne, in a tree: There Daphne's lover stopp'd,and thought it much The very leaves of her to touch: But Harvey, our Apollo, stopp'd not so; into the bark and root he after her did go? No smallest fibres of a plant. For which the eye-beams' point doth sharpness want, His passage after her withstood. Of man's meander all the purple reaches made, Where turning head, and at a bay, Thus by well-purged ears was she o'erhcard to say; "Here sure shall I be safe" (said she) This my retreat, but only he The heart of man what art can e'er reveal? Divides the very parts within, And doth theheart of man ev'n from itself conceal." And held this slippery Proteus in a chain, He the young practice of new life did see, The noble scarlet dye of blood; Thus Harvey sought for truth in Truth's own book, The creatures-which by God himself was writ: And wisely thought 'twas fit, Not to read comments only upon it, But on th' original itself to look. Methinks in Art's great circle others stand And dance, like fairies, a fantastic round, His noble circle of the blood had been untrodden O cruel loss! as if the golden fleece, With so much cost and labour bought, And from afar by a great hero brought, Had sunk ev'n in the ports of Greece. O cursed War! who can forgive thee this? Houses and towns may rise again; And ten times easier 'tis To rebuild Paul's, than any work of his: That mighty task none but himself can do, Nay, scarce himself too, now; For, though his wit the force of age withstand, His body, alas! and time, it must command; And Nature now, so long by him surpass'd, Will sure have her revenge on him at last. ODE, FROM CATULLUS. ACME AND SEPTIMIUS. WHILST on Septimius' panting breast My breast, when Acme is not there." The god of love, who stood to hear him To this best god, and ne'er retain So may thy passion last for me, It reigns not only in my heart, But runs, like life, through every part.” She spoke; the god of love aloud Sneez'd again; and all the crowd Bow'd, and blest the augury. Their loves and lives (all four) embrace, The whole world's imperial throne; And to faithful Acme's mind To reward her, if it be she- ODE Virg. UPON HIS MAJESTY'S RESTORATION AND RETURN. -Quod optanti divům promittere nemo Auderet, volvenda dies, en, attulit ultro. Now blessings on you all, ye peaceful stars, Which meet at last so kindly, and dispense Your universal gentle influence To calm the stormy world, and still the rage of wars! Nor, whilst around the continent Plenipotentiary beams ye sent, Did your pacific lights disdain In their large treaty to contain The world apart, o'er which do reign Your seven fair brethren of great Charles his wain; No star amongst ye all did, I believe, Such vigorous assistance give, As that which, thirty years ago, At Charles's birth 3, did, in despite Of the proud Sun's meridian light, His future glories and this year foreshow. No less effects than these we may Be assur'd of from that powerful ray, Which could out-face the Sun, and overcome the day, Auspicious star! again arise, And take thy noon-tide station in the skies, The land with full and flourishing happiness, Thou mad'st of that fair month thy choice, In which heaven, air, and sea, and earth, And all that's in them, all, does smile and does rejoice. 'Twas a right season; and the very ground Ought with a face of Paradise to be found, Then, when we were to entertain Felicity and Innocence again. Shall we again (good Heaven!) that blessed pair be hold, Which the abused people fondly sold For the bright fruit of the forbidden tree, By seeking all like gods to be? Will Peace her halcyon nest venture to build Upon a shore with shipwrecks fill'd, And trust that sea, where she can hardly say She has known these twenty years one calmy day? 3 The star that appeared at noon, the day of the king's birth, just as the king his father was riding to St. Paul's to give thanks to God for that blessing. Ah! mild and gall-less dove, Where a high court of justice e'er has been? And Bradshaw's bloody ghost, affright her there, Then may Whitehall for Charles's seat be fit, Is still enough to make her stay, Lest that great serpent, which was all a tail, Should a third time perhaps prevail To join again, and with worse sting arise, As it had done when cut in pieces twice. Return, return, ye sacred Four! And dread your perish'd enemies no more. Your fears are causeless all, and vain, Whilst you return in Charles's train; For God does him, that he might you, restore, Nor shall 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 sound, The Arts encompass you around, A various complicated iH, 'Tis happy, which no bleeding does endure, Or that which, if from Heaven it came, That the three dreadful angels we, Of famine, sword, and plague, should here establish'd see, (God's great triumvirate of desolation!) We fear'd, that the fanatic war, Which men against God's houses did declare, Would from the Almighty enemy bring down A sure destruction on our own. We read th' instructive histories which tell Of all those endless mischiefs that befel The sacred town which God had lov'd so well, After that fatal curse had once been said, "His blood be upon ours and on our children's head." We know, though there a greater blood was spilt, 'Twas scarcely done with greater guilt. We know those miseries did befal Already was the shaken nation Into a wild and deform'd chaos brought, And it was hasting on (we thought) Even to the last of ills-annihilation: When, in the midst of this confused night, Lo! the blest Spirit mov'd, "and there was light;" For, in the glorious general's previous ray, We saw a new created day: We by it saw, though yet in mists it shone, Sign his allowance of their wickedness? In the still voice of Peace he came at last! May by the claws of the great fiend be done; He who had seen the noble British heir, Of brothers, heavenly good! and sisters, heavenly fair! Might have perceiv'd, methinks, with ease, (But wicked men see only what they please) That God had no intent t'extinguish quite The pious king's eclipsed right. Might, methinks, plainly understand, And all Heaven's blessings to come down.. crown. The martyrs' blood was said, of old, to be The royal blood which dying Charles did sow 'Twas in dishonour sown; We find it now in glory grown, The grave could but the dross of it devour; ""Twas sown in weakness, and 'tis rais'd in power." We now the question well decided see, At the great monarch's feast, "Of all on earth what things the strongest be?" And some for women, some for wine, did plead; That is, for folly and for rage, Two things which we have known indeed Strong in this latter age; But, as 'tis prov'd by Heaven, at length, And twine into one right: No frantic commonwealths or tyrannies; No stores of arms or gold (though you could join End the same night when they begin ; As e'er to put out stars, or long keep meteors in. Where's now that ignus fatuus, which ere-while Misled our wandering isle? Where's the impostor Cromwell gone? Where's now that falling-star, his son? Where's the large comet now, whose raging flaine So fatal to our monarchy became; Begin their glorious march with thee: Long may their march to Heaven, and still triumphant be! Now thou art gotten once before, Things which offend when present, and affright, Enjoy then all thy afflictions now→ Than thine more try'd and more refin'd, On th' other side, turn'd now to sight, does shine So, when the wisest poets seek Which o'er our heads in such proud horrour stood, (The pious Trojan or the prudent Greek) Insatiate with our ruin and our blood? The fiery tail did to vast length extend; And twice renew'd the dismal fire: Though long the tail, we saw at last its end. Then did th' allotted hour of dawning right Which Malice or which Art no more could stay, Or resurrection of the Spring. We welcome both, and with improv'd delight Bless the preceding Winter, and the Night! Man ought his future happiness to fear, If he be always happy here He wants the bleeding marks of grace, The duty of a sacrifice, He is, we doubt, reserv'd entire They chuse some comely prince of heavenly birth, (No proud gigantic son of Earth, Who strives t'usurp the gods' forbidden seat) They feed him not with nectar, and the meat That cannot without joy be ate; But, in the cold of want, and storms of adverse chance, They harden his young virtue by degrees: His murder'd friends and kindred he does see, His ruin'd country to rebuild. Nor without cause are arms from Heaven, To such a hero by the poets given No human metal is of force t' oppose So mary and so violent blows. Such was the helmet, breast-plate, shield So were they borne when Worcester's dismal day His inward royalty could shrowd; Than all his coronation-pomp can show to human Him and his royal brothers when I saw New marks of honour and of glory | The starry worlds, which shine to us, afar, Wonder that in this golden age The rivers too should not do so. And grant that one wild fit of cheerful folly Where's now the royal mother, where, To take her mighty share In this so ravishing sight, And, with the part she takes, to add to the de light? Ah! why art thou not here, Thou always best, and now the happiest queen! To show that woman-kind may be How well those different virtues thee become, Methought I saw the three Judean youths The honourable flame (Which rather light we ought to name) What are those two bright creatures which we see And mutual joys inspire? Sure they the beauteous sisters are, Who, whilst they seek to bear their share, The fiery trials of adversity! Two angels join with these, the other had but one. Come forth, come forth, ye men of God belov'd! Which against you so impotent became, Come, mighty Charles ! desire of nations! come; He's come, he's safe at shore; 1 hear the noise The sea which circles us around, And swells up every sail : The bells and guns are scarcely heard at all; That it cannot refrain from coming back to thee, And gives it, like a glorious òride, 'Tis the good general, the man of praise. (Though 'tis not small the British glory) Who have redeem'd from hatred and from shame And now the title of a house restore, To that which was but slaughter house before, Which now your living presence graces, |