For She her self had made his Count'nance bright, Enough of Early Saints one womb has giv'n; Breath'd honour on his eyes, and her own Enough encreas'd the Family of Heav'n : m If our Victorious Edward, as they say, Gave Wales a Prince on that Propitious Day, Why may not Years revolving with his Fate But why shou'd James or his Young Hero stay 140 For slight Presages of a Name or Day? Our Prince adorns his Day, and Ages hence "Great Michael, Prince of all th' Ætherial Hosts, And what e're In-born Saints our Britain boasts; And thou, th' adopted Patron of our Isle, With chearful Aspects on this Infant smile: The Pledge of Heav'n, which dropping from above 150 Secures our Bliss and reconciles his Love. Enough of Ills our dire Rebellion wrought, When, to the Dregs, we drank the bitter draught; Then airy Atoms did in Plagues conspire, Nor did th' avenging Angel yet retire, But purg'd our still encreasing Crimes with Fire. Then perjur'd Plots, the still impending Test, And worse; but Charity conceals the Rest: Here stop the Current of the sanguine flood; Require not, Gracious God, thy Martyrs Blood; And frighten'd birds in Woods forgot to sing; The Strong-limb'd Steed beneath his harness faints, And the same shiv'ring sweat his Lord attaints. When will the Minister of Wrath give o're ? Behold him; at P Araunah's threshing-floor. He stops, and seems to sheathe his flaming brand; Pleas'd with burnt Incense, from our David's hand. David has bought the Jebusites abode, No future Ills, nor Accidents appear Five Months to Discord and Debate were giv❜n: He sanctifies the yet remaining Sev'n. Sabbath of Months! henceforth in Him be blest, And prelude to the Realms perpetual Rest! 160 Is But let their dying pangs, their living toyl, A Harvest ripening for another Reign, Grain. r Un-nam'd as yet; at least unknown to there a strife in Heav'n about his Where every Famous Predecessour vies, And makes a Faction for it in the Skies? Or must it be reserv'd to thought alone? Such was the Sacred Tetragrammaton. Things worthy silence must not be reveal'd: Thus the true Name of Rome was kept conceal'd, 199 To shun the Spells, and Sorceries of those To dare ill Tongues, and fascinating eyes; Shall be too narrow to contain his Name : Th' Artillery of Heav'n shall make him known; "Crete could not hold the God, when Jove was grown. As Joves Increase, who from his Brain was born, Whom Arms and Arts did equally adorn, Free of the Breast was bred, whose milky Minerva's Name to Venus had debas'd; Extinguish all the Father in his Soul, And for his Estian Race, and Saxon Strain, Might re-produce some second Richard's Reign. Mildness he shares from both his Parents blood: But Kings too tame are despicably good : Be this the Mixture of this Regal Child, 220 By Nature Manly, but by Virtue Mild. Thus far the Furious Transport of the News Had to Prophetick Madness fir'd the Madness ungovernable, uninspir'd, So e're the Shunamite a Son conceiv'd, The Prophet promis'd, and the Wife believ'd; A Son was sent, the Son so much desir'd, But soon upon the Mother's Knees expir'd. The troubled Seer approach'd the mournful Door, Ran, prayed, and sent his Past'ral-Staff before, Then stretch'd his Limbs upon the Child, and mourn'd, Till Warmth, and breath, and a new Soul return'd. The sudden false Report of the Prince's Death. 1 Those Grants are feign'd to have grown 15 Ells every day. a In the second Book of Kings, chap. 4th. Thus Mercy stretches out her hand, and saves Desponding Peter sinking in the Waves. As when a sudden Storm of Hail and Rain Beats to the ground the yet unbearded Grain. 260 Think not the hopes of Harvest are destroy'd On the flat Field, and on the naked void; The light unloaded stem, from tempest free'd, Will raise the youthful honours of his head; And, soon restor'd by native vigour, bear The timely product of the bounteous Year. Nor yet conclude all fiery Trials past, For Heav'n will exercise us to the last; Sometimes will check us in our full carreer, With doubtful blessings, and with mingled fear; 270 That, still depending on his daily Grace, IIis every mercy for an alms may pass ; With sparing hands will Dyet us to good; Preventing Surfeits of our pampered blood. So feeds the Mother-bird her craving young With little Morsels, and delays 'em long. True, this last blessing was a Royal Feast, But where's the Wedding Garment on the Guest? Our Manners, as Religion were a Dream, Are such as teach the Nations to Blaspheme. In Lusts we wallow, and with Pride we swell, 281 And Injuries, with Injuries repell; But when the haughty Philistims appear, They fled abandoned to their Foes and fear; Their God was absent, though his Ark was there. Ah! lest our Crimes shou'd snatch this Pledge away, 290 And make our Joys the blessing of a day! For we have sin'd him hence, and that he lives, God to his promise, not our practice, gives. Our Crimes wou'd soon weigh down the guilty Scale, But James, and Mary, and the Church prevail. Sam. 4th. v, 10th. | From your mild Heav'n to rule our rugged Beyond the Sunny walks and circling Year. And lengthen, as his latest shadows run, That, tho' the longest day, wou'd soon, too soon, be done. Let Angels voices with their harps conspire, But keep th' auspicious Infant from the Quire; 321 Late let him sing above, and let us know No sweeter Musick than his Cryes below. Nor can I wish to you, Great Monarch, d Of all the Greeks, 'twas but one Hero's due, Some Kings the name of Conq'rors have assum'd, 339 Some to be Great, some to be Gods presum’d; But boundless pow'r and arbitrary Lust Made Tyrants still abhor the Name of Just They shun'd the praise this Godlike Virtue gives, And fear'd a Title that reproach'd their Lives. The Pow'r from which all Kings derive their state, Whom they pretend, at least, to imitate, d Aristides, see his Life in Plutarch. ; 350 Resistless Force and Immortality Make but a Lame, Imperfect Deity; Tempests have force unbounded to destroy, And Deathless Being ev'n the Damn'd enjoy, And yet Heav'ns Attributes both last and first, One without life, and one with life accurst; But Justice is Heav'ns self, so strictly He That cou'd it fail, the God-head cou'd not be. This Virtue is your own; but Life and State Are One to Fortune subject, One to Fate: Equal to all, you justly frown or smile, Nor Hopes, nor Fears your steady Iland beguile; 360 Your self our Ballance hold, the Worlds our Isle. 361 Worlds] Worlds, 1688. EPISTLES AND COMPLIMENTARY ADDRESSES. TO JOHN HODDESDON, ON HIS DIVINE EPIGRAMS. grace To look the sunne of righteousnesse ith' face. THou hast inspired me with thy soul, and I, | And, making heaven thy aim, hast had the And fill thy poems with Celestiall fire, Enliven'd by these sparks divine, their rayes Adde a bright lustre to thy crown of bayes. So lofty and divine a course hast took II on, Mingling Diviner streams with Helicon, 20 Will onely serve to be a foil to his. J. DRYDEN, of Trin. C. To my Honored Friend SIR ROBERT HOWARD As there is Musick uninform'd by Art So in your Verse, a native sweetnesse dwells, Yet as when mighty Rivers gently creep, Such is your Muse: no Metaphor swell'd high TO JOHN HODDESDON. Text from the original prefixt to Hoddesdon's Sion and Parnassus, 1650. 16 ith'] Editors wrongly give i' the or in the 'Tis strange each line so great a weight And yet no signe of toil, no sweat appear. fancies spread, { Rete Mirabile. While rich Idea's there are only caught? TO SIR ROBERT HOWARD. Text from the original of 1661. 8 Then] The editors change the spelling to Than 27 Lets] Let's 1661. 28 caught? caught. 1661. |