1Ʋpon the Joyfull and Welcome RETURN Of his Sacred Majeſty, CHARLS the Second, &c. To His Due and Indubitate Right of Government over theſe his Majeſtie's Kingdoms and Dominions.A PANEGYRICK.
REach me a Quill from ſome bright Angel's Wing,
To write the Welcomes of our deareſt King;
Whil'ſt Vulgar Pens, in modeſt ſilence, ſay,
This lofty Work exceeds their Syſtema.
And firſt like thoſe, whom mighty Joys ſurprize,
Let me weep dry the fountains of min•Eyes;
Quitt head and heart of Grief, that All may be
The ſpacious Organ of a Jubilee:
2 For difficult it is to apprehend,
Much more t'expreſſe the Joys that thus tranſcend.
If Peace be welcome to a Nation, rent
With twenty years inteſtine Diſcord, ſpent
And oppreſt with armed Rapine, and unjuſt,
Exactions, made a ſacrifice to Luſt
And Tyranny, and delug'd with a Floud
Of Vulgar, mix'd with choiſe and ſacred Bloud:
When Perſecution ſtains the reverend Gown,
And Prieſts before inſulting Rage fall down:
When God's Anoynted, and our Noſtrill's Breath,
By Treaſon never Parallel'd, is quench'd in death.
Hence, hence thoſe Tears: Go read Illuſtrious Men,
Recorded by ſome Venerable Pen.
Extract from each his Vertues, and you'l find
Th'Elixir formed in that Hero's mind.
There was King David and his wiſer Son,
VVithout their great Crimes, modelled in One.
VVould you know Adam, or like what a Man
God once in Eden walk'd; no likeneſſe can
Better inform you than the Soul he wore:
Never was King ſo like to God before.
This was that Prince, whom we did late behold
Unto his Grave in horrid murder roll'd:
Thoſe, Brutus-like, embrued in his gore,
VVhom he, as ſons, had bred, and bleſt before.
Hold, Muſe, thou wilt retrive our antient cries,
Thou Panegyricks mean'ſt, not Elegies.
If Plenty with the Poor may welcome find,
VVhere welcomer, than to a Land deſign'd
3 To ruine, and the Monſter, VVar, a prey?
VVhoſe greedy throat hath ſwallow'd up, in pay,
And pillage, quarter, plunder, and in prize,
By force and fraud, gifts and gratuities:
The Bounty of his Saints, the Spoils oth' Loyall,
The Lands oth' Crown, and all th'Iſſue Royall,
The Sacrifice from off the Altar took,
(But Oh! the Coal that to that Morſell ſtook!)
All theſe, with Contributions, and Exciſe,
And Cuſtomes, not his Gluttony ſuffice,
But fifty Subſidies he ſnaps, in ſhort;
And leſt his ſtretch'd Maw ſhrinck, there's ready for't
Fifths, Twentieths, Tenths, All, Treaſon could contrive,
To keep the ravenous Prodigy alive.
On all our pleaſant things, and every good,
His hand he ſpread, like an o're-whelming floud.
If Liberty reſtor'd may welcome have
From free-born men, enthrall'd, and made a ſlave
By their own Slaves, who muſt not onely pay
The Lording Janizary, but obey;
Not yield up their Revenues, but the Right
Of their Inheritance to armed Might;
VVhoſe Laws and Charters, like the Gordian-knot,
Are not diſputed, but aſſunder cut.
VVhoſe Heritage by ſtrangers are poſſeſt,
And in whoſe Habitations Aliens reſt;
VVhoſe necks to grievious Perſecution bow,
Nor may their Labours intermiſſion know.
If Settlement in State may joy a Land,
Diſſolv'd and broken by the boyſtrous hand
4 Of Civill VVars, from its harmonious Chime
Of Monarchy untun'd, by th•ſawcy crime
Of potent Faction; from its form and frame
Shook into novell Chaos, and a name
Of State unknown, whilſt its old Church and State
Stand on their head, the feet predominate.
If Diſcipline and Doctrine welcome be
Unto a Chri••ian Churche's Hierarchy;
A Church, late excellent for both, but now
Confuſion written on her mournfull Brow;
VVhoſe Gold is pallid grown, whoſe pure, refin'd,
And radiant gold, its ſplendor hath declin'd;
VVhoſe poliſh'd Stones, of late her Ornament,
Are now not onely caſt by, with contempt,
But Hewn in pieces, that, the Pillars thrown,
The Cath'lick Building might at once fall down;
And in its ſtead, as many Sects ariſe,
As Jeſuits and Fanaticks could deviſe.
Its Liturgy with wicked ſcandall ſtain'd,
Its reverend Orders Superſtition feign'd.
The Holy place to uſe profane employ'd
For Beaſts; at beſt, by men unqualifi'd,
Ill-principl'd, worſe taught, or not at all,
But mock'd and blow'd, made ev'n by theſe a Stall.
Vain fooliſh Things her Junior Prieſts have told,
Not touch'd the ſins, which did her Cure with-hold;
But theſe cri'd up, for bleſſed Reformation,
(The ready way to gain a Sequeſtration)
Falſe lying burdens brought, and hence extrude
As well her Fractions as her Servitude:
5 Theſe have not wag'd with God ſpirituall force,
Like Jacob, for a Bleſſing, but a Curſe:
Whoſe ignorance hath onely made them hold,
To cenſure every Principle that's old:
Who, for pretence, can tedious pray'rs extend,
And Nonſenſe preach, and Treaſon without end.
And in one Sermon damne (would God agree)
More ſouls, then that choiſe veſſell ſav'd in three.
Hence our Defections, hence it is we run
Into by-paths of Separation.
This way's not right, and the old Standard's down,
And each Enthuſiaſt ſets up his owne;
From which unpaled platt, more Sects have ſprung,
Then if the Dregs of Amſterdam were wrung.
But ſee a glorious Sunne ariſing, bright
As morning Titan crown'd with radiant light!
Who long, in an injurious Cloud conceal'd,
Exerted hath his Luſtre, and reveal'd
His all-refreſhing beams, and with him brings,
To our bleſt Hemiſphear, theſe welcome things:
Thy King, O England, that beſt Name, which wears
Thy Glory-in it, ſtamps the Characters
Of Honour and Renown upon thy brow,
Whilſt forreign Nations to thy Triumphs bow;
Thy Prince, O England, whom thy rebell Crime
Forc'd into civill arms, in early time.
And next, (to ſay no more) to Baniſhment;
Schools too ſevere and ſtrict, but that he ſpent
His time ſo well, that he hath brought from thence,
Th' Endowments of a moſt accompliſh'd Prince;
6 Which acquir'd Gemms, ſet in his native Gold,
Heav'ns eye nought more illuſtrious can behold.
Old Poets, huſh, be ſtill; your Pages ſwell
With weak and poor Romances, when ye tell
Your ſtory's of the Grecian Traveller,
Or Him, that wandred from the Trojan warre.
They never prov'd ſuch angry Fates as he,
Nor ſuch Encounters met by Land or Sea;
O're which his Valour, like an high Tide run,
And vanquiſh'd what ſo e're it could not ſhun:
Nor to their Countryes, when at length they came,
So much of vertue brought, nor ſo much fame:
Witneſſe, That for his Crown he would not foyle,
With aid of forreign arms, his native ſoyl;
And that he brings his old Rengion home,
Maugre the Circean charms and arts of Rome.
This, England, This is He, that brings thee now
After thy flood of woes the Olive-bough.
To make thee know, that Deluge could not ceaſe,
Till this thy Dove were home return'd in peace:
To let thee know, that Heav'n would not agree
To grant thy Peace, till made 'twixt Him and Thee.
His are thoſe Feet which welcome claim by right,
Bringing thoſe Tidings, which none other might;
Tidings of peace on Earth, which the moſt High
Committed onely to his Embaſſy:
For Heav'n decreed no Mercy to diſpence,
But through the Conduct of his Influence?
Nor any but his ſacred preſence ſhou'd,
Stop the long-running Iſſue of thy blood.
This, England, This is He, who brings thee back
That Amalthean-horn, thou long didſt lack.
Each now may ſit beneath his Vine in peace,
And eat the plenty of his Field's encreaſe:
Not labour ſtill, and ſtill the poorer wax,
Nor ſell his bread to pay his monthly Tax.
This is your Oedipus, that doth explain
The riddle of your Cheat, and Sphinx is ſlain:
Your Theſeus this, that hath the Monſter ſped,
Who on your Noble ſons ſo long hath fed.
Your Hercules, that hath deſtroy'd the Boar,
Which did your rich Arcadian fields devour.
Yet your Injuſtice thus juſt Heav'n controul'd,
Who would enjoy your Birth-rights, His with-hold;
And ſet Oppreſſours your own rights t' invade,
Till his Prerogative and Rights were paid;
Your Honours and Eſtates by vaſſail hands
Uſurp'd, whilſt you uſurp'd his Crown and Lands;
Servants ſuborned over you to raign,
Whilſt you the Scepter of your Prince diſdain.
This, This is He, that breaks thoſe Iron-bands
And Gyves, that fetter'd thy gaull'd feet and hands:
Who, like St. Peter's Angell, whilſt thou ſleep'ſt
Betwixt thy Souldiers, a true Vigill keeps.
And takes thy fetters off, ſets ope thy dores,
And thy excluded Liberty reſtores.
And how doth bluſhing Anarchy decline,
And droop, now Monarchy begins to ſhine?
How do the Circles of falſe greatneſſe fall
Into their firſt ſimple Originall?
8Thoſe blazing Stars, which late aloft did climbe,
How faine, noug•t elſe appear but froth and ſlime?
How do thoſe aery Pageants melt away,
Before the glorious beams of this bright day?
They, who but now, with ſtrength of Arms and Laws,
Did fortify their greatneſs, and their Cauſe;
And made our Lands, our Lives, our Liberties,
At beſt, their Vaſſail, oft, their Sacrifice;
How, like a morning miſt, are they diſpers'd,
Our Rights aſſerted, and their State revers'd?
So true it is; Earth's glories once muſt fall,
But laid in blood, they cannot ſtand at all.
This, This is He, that all thy Breaches bounds,
And binds up all thy State and Churches-wounds;
That to thy Bruſſes brings reſtoring Balme,
And layes thy tedious Tempeſt in a Calme:
That ſets in Tune thy long diſorder'd ſphears,
And with compoſed notes delights thine ears;
Repairs the ruines of thy batter'd frame,
And re-impreſſes thy old ſtamp and name:
Enſtyles thee Kingdome, ſuch as Heav'n thinks fit
To be, and makes thy Government like it;
Rears up the broken Pillars of thy Peers,
And fixes thy ſecluded Commoners;
Refines thy Temple's Gold, files off its ruſt,
Elects her precious ſtones from heaps of Duſt.
And ſets them in her Tyre, diſcharging thence
Thoſe Cheats of Ignorance and Impudence.
And now, O Land, with bluſhes dye thy cheek,
Sink on thy lowly knee, and humbly ſeek
9 Thy God's and Prince's pardon: Ah! too long
Haſt thou thy ſelfe undone, in doing wrong
Unto thy Sov'raign's right: thy Treaſon hath
Kept off theſe bleſſings, and drawn down the wrath
Of vengefull Juſtice: but Light now breaks in,
And undeceives thee, and unmaſques thy Sin.
Great Providence, whoſe wayes are too profound
And intricate, for human skill to ſound,
In this its time, in Men and Devil's deſpight,
Hath brought at once thy Crime and Cure to light.
'Tis true; Thou in thy Judgments might'ſt have read
Thy ſinne, but that, like Aegypt, hardened.
What ment the Elements? Why all emag'd,
As if in Wars againſt the World engag'd?
The Fire? what flames have in thy Land appear'd,
And turn'd to Duſt the Piles thy Grandſires rear'd.
What antient Town hath ſcap'd its rage? And hath
Not this expreſs'd, how fierce thy Maker's wrath?
The Ayre? What Tempeſts have the Fabrick ſhook,
As if the Poles from under Heav'n were took,
And earth in pieces rending? What from hence
But thy confuſion ſhewn, and Heav'ns offence?
The Earth? How ſparingly of late it yields,
Unto the Ploughman's toyle; as if the fields,
By ſome divine inſtinct were taught, that they
Ought not the Diſobedient to obey?
The Seas beſides their rude Invaſions made
Upon this Iland, how have they convey'd
Prodigious creatures to thy frighted ſhore,
Such as the Nymphs of Thames ne're ſaw before?
10To ſhew, thy Continent, at that time, held
No leſſe a Prodigie, ſo parallel'd?
But theſe were Heaven's Hieroglyphicks, ſince
Interpreted to thy Intelligence;
Reveal'd in ſeaſon. And thy Prince's Grace
Extends his Mercy, free as thy Embrace;
Who, with thy other bleſſings, Pardon brings,
The freest and the clementest of Kings;
Who from advantage of his power defies
The vengeance of his private injuries;
Whoſe Sword, for want of uſe, may neither ruſt,
Nor ſurfett with the bloud of the unjuſt;
Who puniſhes the Ill, the Good rewards,
Protecteth Peace, and Truth and Juſtice guards;
Who for Obedience on his Subjects layes
No Rules, but thoſe by which himſelf obeys
His Soveraign Lord; in Arms no leſſe expert
Then in the Peacefull Gown ſage and diſert;
Who as a Tutor to his Church appears,
His Country with a Father's love endears,
VVhat leſſe then God inn'd in an human breaſt
Is ſuch a King, of Men and Kings the Beſt?
O! with what welcome canſt thou entertain
This loſt Palladium, now retriv'd again?
What Joys canſt thou expreſſe, what Io's ſing,
To uſher in this rare and Phoenix King?
Unfold obedient arms, and claſp him round,
But with your hearts more than your bodies crown'd:
Unfold thoſe dores, and lodge him there, above
The reach of Envy, in thoſe Towers of Love.
11Thy Bells muſt ceaſe, but let thy Toung ſtill ring
That Peal of Loyalty, God bleſſe the King.
Thy Bonefires muſt in liveleſſe duſt expire,
But let Allegiance live, like Veſtall fire:
Thy Conduits will grow dry of Healthing-wine,
Let Duety be an unexhauſted Mine:
Theſe Accidents of Love and Joy muſt end,
But may the Subſtance without bounds extend:
And by experience warn'd, reſolve again
No more to quarrell with thy Soveraign;
But make it all thy Practice to obey,
And to thy Caeſar, what is Caeſar's pay.
And here, though Heav'n amazed Earth may tell,
That it hath wrought, ev'n now, a Miracle;
Brought mighty things to paſſe, to puzzle ſenſe,
And human reaſon for Intelligence;
That the entranced world doth yet ſcarce know,
Whether it be Reality, or no:
And, when the Arme of fleſh was tyr'd and ſpent,
Took up the work, and gav't accompliſhment;
To tell the Royaliſt, there was no need
Of him, to bring to paſſe, what it decreed:
And Rebells, they ſhould fall without a Name,
And not three Kingdomes have, for fun'rall flame:
Yet Heav'n did means and Inſtruments employ,
VVhoſe merits may not in Oblivion dye.
VVith Bayes no more, the bloody Victour crown,
Nor Conqueſts, gain'd with thouſands ſlain, renown:
12 Let Him, in Triumph, through the City ride,
That conquers with his Weapon by his ſide;
That can an Army, without battail, beat,
And every Troop, without a Charge, defeat:
That Gideon-like, with his ſmall handfull, frights
To nothing the diſtracted Midianites;
That without blows, makes angry VVar ſurceaſe,
And layes his Country in the arms of peace.
VVho thoſe advantages improves aright,
Which others loſt, enſnar'd by Appetite;
From forth whoſe Loyall and Heroick breſt,
His Countrey's love drives his own Intereſt;
Who knowes Obedience better than a Crown,
Which Uſurpation cannot make his own:
And ſuch is He, whoſe Name I need not give,
But as a ſoul, to make this Poem live;
George Monck, the truly Noble: whoſe great Name
Shall ever ſhine 'ith. Firmament of Fame:
We need not Garlands make, nor Statues rayſe,
For Him, whoſe worth is Imag'ry and Bayes;
Nor do his vertues any Herauld need,
Which have their Proclamation from the deed:
What Honour can, or Induſtry invent,
Is but a periſhable Monument;
But ne're in Ruines, ſhall that Name be hid,
Who makes his Country's peace, his Pyramid.
And next to him, there's Honour due to thoſe,
Who, Phoenix-like, from the old aſhes roſe;
This Legall Parliament: who do not do
Their owne work only, but the Nation's too.
13To thoſe our Peers, who ſprung from high Deſcent
Now ſhine, their King's and Kingdom's Ornament;
And to thoſe Loyall Commons, whoſe bleſt Lots
Have falne, to be their Country's Patriots;
Whoſe words have earneſt been, like Judah-men,
To bring their Soveraign David home agen:
O! May this three-fold-Cord for ever hold,
And in a laſting Peace theſe Realms enfold!
Haec ara tuebitur omnes.
FINIS.