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The martyrs' blood was said, of old, to be
Besides, ev'n in this world below, The seed from whence the church did To those who never did ill-fortune krow, grow.
The good does nauseous or insipid grow. The royal blood which dying Charles did sow | Consider man's whole life, and you'll confess Becomes no less the seed of royalty :
The sharp ingredient of some bad success 'Twas in dishonour sown;
Is that which gives the taste to all his happiness. We find it now in glory grown,
But the true method of felicity The grave could but the dross of it devour;
Is, when the worst “ 'Twas sown in weakness, and 'tis rais'd in Of human life is plac'd the first, power."
And when the child's correction proves to be We now the question well decided see,
The cause of perfecting the man:
Let our weak days lead up the van;
Let the brave second and Triarian band
The virtue of the force of these are sure of vic. Two things which we have known indeed
Begin their glorious march with thee:
Long may their march to Heaven, and still No frantic commonwealths or tyrannies;
triumphant be! No cheats, and perjuries, and lies;
Now thou art gotten once before, No nets of human policies;
Ill-fortune never shall o'or-take thee more. No stores of arms or gold (though you could join To see 't again, and pleasure in it find, Those of Peru to the great London mine);
Cast a disdainful look behind; No towns; no fleets by sea, or troops by land ; Things which offend when present, and affright, No deeply-entrench'd islands, can withstand, In memory well-painted move delight. Or any small resistance bring,
Enjoy then all thy astfictions now
Thy martyrdom's already past:
And different crowns to both ye owe.
No gold did e'er the kingly temples bind, As e'er to put out stars, or long keep meteors
Than thine more try'd and more refin'd,
As a choice medal for Heaven's treasury, in. Where's now that ignus fatuus, which ere-while
God did stamp first upon one side of thee
The image of his suffering humanity:
On th' other side, turn'd now to sight, does shine Where's now that falling-star, his son ?
The glorious image of his power divine ! Where 's the large comet now, whose raging So, when the wisest poets seek
In all their liveliest colours to set forth
A picture of heroic worth,
They chuse some comely prince of heavenly The fiery tail did to vast length extend;
birth, And twice for want of fuel did expire,
(No proud gigantic son of Earth, And twice renew'd the dismal fire :
Who strives t'usurp the gods' forbidden seat) Though long the tail, we saw at last its end, They feed him not with nectar, and the meat The flames of one triumphant day.
That cannot without joy be ate; Which, like an anti-comet here,
But, in the cold of want, and storms of adverse Did fatally to that appear,
chance, For ever frighted it away:
They harden his young virtue by degrees : Then did th'allotted hour of dawning right The beauteous drop first into ice does freeze, First strike our ravish'd sight;
And into solid crystal next advance. Which Malice or which Art no more could stay, His murder'd friends and kindred he does see, Than witches' charms can a retardment bring
And from his flaming country fee: To the resuscitation of the Day,
Much is he tost at sea, and much at land; Or resurrection of the Spring.
Does long the force of angry gods withstand: We welcome both, and with improv'd delight He does long troubles and long wars sustain, Bless the preceding Winter, and the Night!
Ere he his fatal birth-right gain.
With no less time or labour can Man ought his future happiness to fear,
Destiny build up such a man,
Who's with sufficient virtue fill'd
His ruin'd country to rebuild.
Nor without cause are arms from Heaven, The duty of a sacrifice,
To such a bero by the poets given He is, we doubt, reserv'd entire
No human metal is of force t'oppose As a whole victiin for the fire,
Su many and so violent blows.
Such was the helmet, breast-plate, shield | The starry worlds, which shine to us, afar,
Which Charles in all attacks did wield: 1 Take ours at this time for a star. And all the weapons Malice e'er could try, With wine all rooms, with wine the conduits, flow; Of all the several makes of wicked Policy, | And we, the priests of a poetic rage, Against th s armour struck, but at the stroke, Wonder that in this golden age Like swords of ice, in thousand pieces broke. The rivers too shoald not do so. To angels and their brethren spirits above, There is no Stoic, sure, who would not now No show on Earth can sure so pleasant prove,
Ev'p some excess allow ; As when they great misfortunes see
And grant that one wild fit of cheerful folly With courage borne, and decency.
Should end our twenty years of dismal melanSo were they borne when Worcester's dismal day
choly. Did all the terr Jurs of black Fate display !
Where's now the royal mother, where, His inward royalty could shrowd ;
To take her mighty share
In this so ravishing sight, And one of th' angels whom just God did send
And, with the part she takes, to add to the deTo guard him in his noble flight
light? (A troop of angels did him then attend !)
Ah! why art thou not here, Assur'd me, in a vision th' other night,
| Thou always best, and now the happiest qneen! That he (and who could better judge than he?)
To see our joy, and with new joy be seen; Did then more greatness in him see,
God has a bright example made of thee, More lustre and more majesty,
To show that woman-kind may be Than all his coronation-pomp can show to human
Above that sex which her superior seems, eye.
In wisely managing the wide extremes
Of great affliction, great Felicity.
How well those different virtues thce become, From their affronts and sufferings draw, Daughter of triumphs, wife of martyrdom ! And look like heavenly saints e'en in their pur- Thy princely mind with so much courage bore gatory;
Affiction, that it dares return no more ; Methought I saw the three Judean youths With so much goodness us'd felicity, (Three unhurt martyrs for the noblest truths !) That it cannot refrain from coming back to thee; - In the Chaldean furnace walk;
'Tis come, and seen to-day in all its bravery ! How cheerfully and unconcern'd they talk!'
Who's that heroic person leads it on, No hair is sing'd, no smallest beauty blasted!
And gives it, like a glorious bride, Like painted lamps they shine unwasted !
(Richly adorn'd with nuptial pride) The greedy fire itself dares not be fed
Into the hands now of thy son? With the blest oil of an anointed head.
'Tis the good general, the man of praise. The honourable flame
Whom God at last, in gracious pity, (Which rather light we ought to name)
Did to th’ enthralled nation raise,
Their great Zerubbabel to be ;
To loose the bonds of long captivity,
And to rebuild their temple and their city! . Walk with the royal three
For ever blest may he and his remain,
Who, with a vast, though less appearing, gain,
Preferr'a the solid great above the vain, Sure they the beauteous sisters are,
| And to the world this princely truth has shown Who, whilst they seek to bear their share,
| That more 'tis to restore, than to usurp a crown! Will suffer no affliction to be there.
Thou worthiest person of the British story! Less favour to those three of old was shown : To solace with their company
('Though 'tis not small the British glory)
Did I not know my humble verse must be
But ill-proportion'd to the height of thee,
Thou and the world should see one.
How much my Muse, the foe of Aattery, Come forth, come forth, ye men of God belov'd!
Does make true praise her labour and design ; And let the power now of that flame,
An Iliad or an Æneid should be thine. Which against you so impotent became, And ill should we deserve this happy day, On all your enemies be prov'd.
If no acknowledgments we pay Come, mighty Charles ! desire of nations ! come; To you, great patriots of the two Come, you triumph exile, home.
Most truly other houses now, He's come, he's safe at shore ; I hear the noise who have redeem'd from hatred and from shame Of a whole land which does at once rejoice, A parliament's once.venerable name; I hear th' united people's sacred voice.
| And now the title of a house restore, The sea which-circles us around,
To that which was but slaughter house before, Ne'er sent to land so loud a sound; | If my advice, yeworthies ! might be ta'en, The mighty shout sends to the sea a gale,
Within those reverend places, And swells up every sail :
Which now your living presence graces, The bells and guns are scarcely heard at all; | Your marble statnes always should remain, The artificial joy's drown'd by the natural. To keep alive your useful memory, All England but one bonfire seems to be,
And to your successors th' example be One Etna shooting flames into the sea : .' of truth, religion, reason, loyalty :
For, though a firmly settled-peace On either side dwells Safety and Delight ; May shortly make your public labour cease, | Wealth on the left, and Power upon the right. The grateful nation will with joy consent,
To assure yet my defence on either hand,
Man's liberal piety of old did rear;
My neighbours and my guards, watch and com
My warlike guard of ships, which farther lie, ON THE QUEENS REPAIRING
Might be my object too, were not the eye
Stopt by the houses of that wondrous street, SOMERSET HOUSE.
Which rides o'er the broad river like a fleet. When God (the cause to me and men unknown) | The stream's eternal siege they fixt abide, Forsook the royal houses, and his own,
And the swoln stream's auxiliary tide, And both abandon'd to the common foe,
Though both their ruin with joint power conspire, How near to ruin :lid my glories go!
Both to out-brare, they nothing dread but fire. Nothing remain'd t' adorn this princely place
And here my Thames, though it more gentle
be Which covetous hands could take, or rude deface.
Than any flood so strengthen'd by the sea, In all my rooms and galleries I found
Finding by art his natural forces broke, The richest figures torn, and all around
And hearing, captive-like, the arched yoke, Dismember'd statues of great heroes lay;
Does roar, and foam, and rage, at the disgrace, Such Naseby's field seem'd on the fatal day!
But re-composes straight, and calms his face ; And me, when nought for robbery was left,
Is into reverence and submission strook, They starv'd to death : the gasping walls were
As soon as from afar he does but look cleft,
Tow'rds the white palace where that king does The pillars sunk, the roofs above me wept,
reign, No sign of spring, or joy; my garden kept ;
Who lays his laws and bridges o'er the main. Nothing was seen which could content the eye,
Amidst these louder honours of my seat; Till dead the impious tyrant here did lie.
And two vast cities, troublesomely great, See how my face is chang'd, and what I am
In a large various plain the country too Since my true mistress, and now foundress,
Opens her gentler blessings to my view : came!
| In me the active and the quiet mind, It does not full her bounty to restore
By different ways, equal content may find. Me as I was (nor was I small beforei:
If any prouder virtuoso's sense She imitates the kindness to her shown ;
At that part of my prospect take offence, She does, like Heaven, (which the dejected throne
By which the meaner cabbins are descry'd, At once restores, fixes, and higher rears)
of my imperial river's humbler side Strengthen, enlarge, exalt, what she repairs.
If they call that a blemish-let them know, And now I dare, (though proud I must not be,
God, and my godlike mistress, think not so; Whilst my great mistress I so humble see
For the distress'd and the afflicted lie In all her various glories) now I dare
Most in their care, and always in their eye. Ev'n with the proudest palaces compare.
And thou, fair River ! who still pay'st to me My beauty and convenience will, I'm sure,
Just homage, in thy passage to the sea, So just a boast with modesty endure;
Take here this one instruction as thou go'stAnd all must to me yield, when I shall tell
When thy mix't waves shall visit every coast; -* How I am plac'd, and who does in me dwell.
When round the world their voyage they shall Before my gate a street's broad channel goes,
make, Which still with waves of crowding people flows;
And back to thee some secret channels take; . And every day there passes by my side,
Ask them what nobler sight they e'er did meet, Up to its western reach, the London tide,
Except thy mighty master's sovereign fiset, The spring-tides of the term : my front looks
Which now triumphant o'er the main does ride, down
The terrour of all lands, the ocean's pride. On all the pride and business of the town;
From bence his kingdoms, happy now at last, My other front (for, as in kings we see
(Happy, if wise by their misfortunes past !) The liveliest image of the Deity,
From hence may omens take of that success We in their houses should Heaven's likeness find,
Which both their future wars and peace shall Where nothing can be said to be behind)
bless. My other fair and more majestic face
| The peaceful mother on mild Thames does build; (Who can the fair to more advantage place?)
With her son's fabrics the rough sea is fill'd.
And here behold, in a long bending row,
THE COMPLAINT. The midst, the noblest place, possess'd by me, In a deep vision's intellectual scene, Best to be seen by all, and all o'er-see!
Beneath a bower for sorrow made,
Th' uncomfortable shade
Mixt with the mourning willow's careful grey, I But then, alas ! to thee alone,
For every tree and every herb around
With pearly dew was crown'd, (The Muses oft in lands of vision play)
And upon all the quicken'd ground Body'd, array'd, and seen, by an internal light. The fruitful seed of Heaven did brooding lie, A golden harp with silver strings she bore;
And nothing but the Muse's fleece was dry. A wondrous hieroglyphic robe she wore,
It did all other threats surpass, In which all colours and all figures were,
When God to his own people said That Nature or that Fancy can create,
(The men whom through long wanderings he had That Art can never imitate;
led) And with loose pride it wanton'd in the air.
That he would give them ev'n a heaven of In such a dress, in such a well-cloth'd dream,
brass : She us'd, of old, near fair Ismenus' stream, | They look'd up to that Heaven in vain, Pindar, her Theban favourite, to meet; | That bounteous Heaven, which God did not reA crown was on her head, and wings were on her
Upon the most unjust to shine and rain. She touch'd him with her harp, and rais'd him
“The Rachel, for which twice seven years and more from the ground;
Thou didst with faith and labour serve, The shaken strings melodiously resound.
| And didst (if faith and labour can) deserve, “ Art thou return'd at last,” said she,
Though she contracted was to thee, “ To this forsaken place and me?
Given to another thou didst see; Thou prodigal! who didst so loosely waste
Given to another, who had store Of all thy youthful years the good estate ;
Of fairer and of richer wives before, Art thou return'd here, to repent too late,
And not a Leah left, thy recompense to be! And gather husks of learning up at last,
Go on; twice seven years more thy fortune try; Now the rich harvest time of life is past,
Twice seven years more God in his bounty may And Winter marches on so fast?
Give thee, to Aling away But, when I meant t'adopt thee for my son,
Into the court's deceitful lottery : And did as learn'd a portion assign,
But think how likely 'tis that thou, As ever any of the mighty Nine
With the dull work of thy unwieldy plough, Had to their dearest children done;
Should'st in a hard and barren season thrive, When I resolv'd t'exalt thy anointed name,
Should'st even able be to live; Among the spiritual lords of peaceful fame;
Thou, to whose share so little bread did fall, Thou, changeling! thou, bewitch'd with noise and
In that miraculous year, when manna rain'd on show, Would'st into courts and cities from me go; Would'st see the world abroad, and have a share Thus spake the Muse, and spake it with a smile, In all the follies and the tumults there:
That seem'd at once to pity and revile. Thou would'st, forsooth, be something in a state, And to her thus, raising his thoughtful head, And business thou would'st find, and would'st The melanchuly Cowley said create;
“ Ah, wanton foe! dost thou upbraid Business! the frivolous pretence
The ills which thou thyself hast made? Of human lusts, to shake off innocence;
When in the cradle innocent I lay, Business! the grave impertinence;
Thou, wicked spirit! stolest me away, Business! the thing which I of all things hate;
And my abused soul didst bear Business! the contradiction of thy fate.
Into thy new-found worlds, I know not where,
Thy golden Indies in the air; " Go, renegado! cast up thy account,
And ever since I strive in vain
My ravish'd freedom to regain;
Still I rebel, still thou dost reign; The sale of knowledge, fame, and liberty,
Lo! still in verse against thee I complain. The fruits of thy unlearn'd apostacy.
There is a sort of stubborn weeds, Thou thought'st, if once the public storm were | Which, if the earth but once, it ever, breeds; past,
No wholesome herb can near them thrive, All thy remaining life should sunshine be:
No useful plant can keep alive: Behold! the public storm is spent at last,
The foolish sports I did on thee bestow, The sovereign's tost at sea no more,
Make all my art and labour fruitless now; And thou, with all the noble company,
Where once such fairies dance, no grass doth ever Art got at last to shore.
grow. But, whilst thy fellow voyagers I see All march'd up to possess the promis'd land, " When my new mind had no infusion known, Thon, still alone, alas! dost gaping stand
Thou gav'st so deep a tincture of thine own, Upon the naked beach, upon the barren sand! That ever since I vainly try
To wash away th' inherent dye: “ As a fair morning of the blessed spring, Iong work perhaps may spoil thy colours quite, After a tedious stormy night,
But never will reduce the native white: Such was the glorious entry of our king;
To all the ports of honour and of gain, . Enriching inoisture drop'd on every thing:
I often steer my course in vain; Plenty he sow'd below, and cast about him light! Thy gale comes cross, and drives me back again
Thou slack'nest all my nerves of industry,
ON THE DEATH OF By making them so oft to be
MRS. KATHARINE PHILIPS. The tinkling strings of thy lose minstrelsy. Whoever this world's happiness would see,
Cruer Disease! ah, could not it suffice Must as entirely cast off thee,
Thy old and constant spite to exercise
Against the gentlest and the fairest sex,
Which still thy depreciations most do vex ?
Where still thy malice most of all Myself a demi-votary to make.
(Thy malice or thy lust) does on the fairest fall ? Thus, with Sappbira and her husband's fate, And in them most assault the fairest place, (A fault which I, like them, am taught too late) The throne of empress Beauty, ev'n the face? For all that I gave up I nothing gain,
There was enough of that here to assuage, And perish for the part which I retain.
(One would have thought) either thy lust or “Teach me not then, O thou fallacious Muse!
rage. The court, and better king, t'accuse :
Was 't not enough, when thou, prophane Disease! 'The heaven under which I live is fair,
Didst on this glorious temple seize? 'The fertile soil will a full harvest bear :
Was 't not enough, like a wild zealot, there, Thine, thine is all the barrenness; if thou
All the rich outward ornaments to tear, Mak’st me sit still and sing, when I should
Deface the innocent pride of beauteous images ? plough.
Was 't not enough thus rudely to defile, When I but think how many a tedious year
But thou must quite destroy, the goodly pile? Our patient sovereign did attend
And thy unbounded sacrilege commit His long misfortunes' fatal end ;
On th'inward holiest holy of her wit ? How cheerfully, and how exempt from fear,
Cruel Disease! there thou mistook'st thy power,' On the Great Sovereign's will he did depend;
No mine of Death can that devour; I ought to be accurst, if I refuse
On her embalmed name it will abide To wait on his, thou fallacious Muse!
An everlasting pyramid, Kings have long hands, they say; and, though I
'though As high as Heaven the top, as Earth the basis
wide. So distant, they may reach at length to me. | All ages past record, all countries now, However, of all the princes, thou
In various kinds such equal beauties show, Should'st not reproach rewards for being small That ev'n judge Paris would not know or slow;
On whom the golden apple to bestow; Thou ! who rewardest but with popular breath, Though goddesses this sentence did submit, And that too after death,”
Women and lovers would appeal from it:
Nor durst he say, of all the female race,
This is the sovereign face.
And some (though these be of a kind that's rare, COLONEL TUKE'S TRAGI-COMEDY,
That's much, ah, much less frequent than the THE ADVENTURES OF FIVE
So equally renown'd for virtue are,
That it the mother of the gods might pose,
When the best woman for her guide she choses Take in just wars a rich plate-fleet of Spain,
But if Apollo should design The rude unshapen ingots they reduce
A woman laureat to make, Into a form of beauty and of use;
Without dispute he would Orinda take, On which the conqueror's image now does shine,
Though Sappho and the famous Nino Not his whom it belong'd to in the mine:
Stood by, and did repine, So, in the mild contentions of the Muse,
To be a princess, or a queen, (The war which Peace itself loves and pursues)
Is great; but 'tis a greatness always seen : So have you home to us in triumph brought
The world did never but two women know, This cargazon of Spain with treasures fraught,
Who, one by fraud, th’ other by wit, did risc You have not basely gotten it by stealth,
To the two tops of spiritual dignities; Nor by translation borrow'd all its wealth;
One female pope of old, one female poet now, But by a powerful spirit made it your own; Of female poets, who had names of old, Metal before, money by you 'tis grown.
Nothing is shown, but only told, 'Tis current now, by your adorning it
And all we hear of them perhaps may be With the fair stamp of your victorious wit, Male-flattery only, and male-poetry. But, though we praise this voyage of your Few minutes did their beauty's lightning waste mind,
The thunder of their voice did longer last, And though ourselves enrich'd by it we find;
But that too soon was past. We're not contented yet, because we know The certain proofs of our Orinda's wit What greater stores at home within it grow, In her own lasting characters are writ, We've seen how well you foreign ores refine; And they will long my praise of them survive, Produce the gold of your own nobler mine:
Though long perhaps, too, that may live, The world shall then our native plenty view, The trade of glory, manag'd by the pen, And fetch materials for their wit from you; Though great it , and every where is found, They all shall watch the travails of your pen, Does bring in but small profit to us mop; And Spain on you shall make reprisals then, l 'Tis, by the number of the sharers, drown'de