AND welcome now, great monarch, to your own; Behold th' approaching clifts of Albion :
It is no longer motion cheats your view,
As you meet it, the land approacheth you.
The land returns, and, in the white it wears,
The marks of penitence and forrow bears.
But you, whofe goodness your defcent doth fhew,
Your heavenly parentage and earthly too;
By that fame mildness, which your father's crown
Before did ravifh, fhall fecure your own.
Not tied to rules of policy, you find
Revenge less sweet than a forgiving mind.
Thus, when th' Almighty would to Mofes give
A fight of all he could behold and live;
A voice before his entry did proclaim
Long-fuffering, goodness, mercy, in his name.
Your power to juftice doth fubmit your caufe,
Your goodness only is above the laws;
Whofe rigid letter, while pronounc'd by you,
Is fofter made. So winds that tempefts brew,
When through Arabian groves they take their flight,
Made wanton with rich odours, lose their spite.
And as thofe lees, that trouble it, refine
The agitated foul of generous wine :
So tears of joy, for your returning, spilt;
Work out, and expiate our former guilt.
Methinks I fee thofe crouds on Dover's ftrand,
Who, in their hafte to welcome you to land,
Chok'd up the beach with their ftill-growing ftore,
And made a wilder torrent on the fhore :
While, fpurr'd with eager thoughts of past delight,
Those, who had seen you, court a second fight ;
Preventing ftill your steps, and making haste
To meet you often wherefoe'er you past.
How fhall I fpeak of that triumphant day,
When you renew'd th' expiring pomp of May!
(A month that owns an interest in your name :
You and the flowers are its peculiar claim.)
That star, that at your birth fhone out fo bright,
It ftain'd the duller fun's meridian light,
Did once again its potent fires renew,
Guiding our eyes to find and worship you.
And now Time's whiter feries is begun,
Which in foft centuries fhall fmoothly run:
Those clouds, that overcaft your morn, shall fly,
Dispell'd to fartheft corners of the sky.
Our nation with united intereft bleft,
Not now content to poize, fhall fway the rest.
Abroad your empire fhall no limits know,
But, like the fea, in boundless circles flow.
Your much-lov'd fleet fhall, with a wide command,
Befiege the petty monarchs of the land :
And as old Time his offspring swallow'd down,
Our ocean in its depths all feas fhall drown.
Their wealthy trade from pirates' rapine free,
Our merchants fhall no more adventurers be:
Nor in the fartheft Eaft thofe dangers fear,
Which humble Holland muft diffemble here.
Spain to your gift alone her Indies owes ;
For what the powerful takes not he bestows;
And France, that did an exile's prefence fear,
May juftly apprehend you ftill too near.
At home the hateful names of parties cease,
And factious fouls are wearied into peace.
The difcontented now are only they,
Whofe crimes before did your juft caufe betray:
Of those your edicts fome reclaim from sin,
But moft your life and bleft example win.
Oh happy prince, whom heaven hath taught the way
By paying vows to have more vows to pay!
Oh happy age! Oh times like those alone,
By fate referv'd for great Auguftus' throne!
When the joint growth of arms and arts forefhew
The world a monarch, and that monarch you.
To His SACRED MAJESTY.
A PANEGYRIC on his CORONATION.
N that wild deluge where the world was drown'd, When life and fin one common tomb had found, The first small prospect of a rising hill
With various notes of joy the ark did fill :
Yet when that flood in its own depths was drown'd,
It left behind it falfe and flippery ground;
And the more folemn pomp was still deferr'd,
Till new-born nature in fresh looks appear'd.
Thus, royal fir, to see you landed here,
Was caufe enough of triumph for a year :
Nor would your care thofe glorious joys repeat,
Till they at once might be fecure and great:
your kind beams, by their continued stay, Had warm'd the ground, and call'd the damps away. Such vapours, while your powerful influence dries, Then fooneft vanish when they highest rise. Had greater hafte these facred rites prepar'd, Some guilty months had in your triumphs shar'd: But this untainted year is all your own; Your glories may without our crimes be shown. We had not yet exhaufted all our store, When you refresh'd our joys by adding more: As heaven, of old, difpens'd celeftial dew, You gave us manna, and ftill give us new. Now our fad ruins are remov'd from fight, The feafon too comes fraught with new delight: Time seems not now beneath his years to stoop, Nor do his wings with fickly feathers droop: Soft western winds waft o'er the gaudy spring, And open'd scenes of flowers and bloffoms bring, Το grace this happy day, while you appear, Not king of us alone, but of the
eyes you draw, and with the eyes the heart:
Of your own pomp yourself the greatest part :
Loud fhouts the nation's happiness proclaim,
And heaven this day is feafted with your name.
Your cavalcade the fair fpectators view,
From their high ftandings, yet look up to you.
From brave train each fingles out a prey,
And longs to date a conqueft from your day.
Now charg'd with bleffings while you feek repofe,
Officious flumbers hafte your eyes to close;
And glorious dreams ftand ready to restore
The pleafing fhapes of all you faw before.
Next to the facred temple you are led,
Where waits a crown for your more facred head :
How justly from the church that crown is due,
Preferv'd from ruin, and reftor'd by you!
The grateful choir their harmony employ,
Not to make greater, but more folemn joy.
Wrapt foft and warm your name is fent on high,
As flames do on the wings of incenfe fly:
Mufic herfelf is loft, in vain fhe brings
Her choiceft notes to praise the best of kings :
Her melting strains in you a tomb have found,
And lie like bees in their own sweetness drown'd.
He that brought peace, all difcord could atone,
His name is mufic of itself alone.
Now while the facred oil anoints your head,
And fragrant fcents, begun from you, are spread
Through the large dome; the people's joyful found,
Sent back, is ftill preserv'd in hallow'd ground;
Which in one bleffing mix'd defcends on you;
As heighten'd fpirits fall in richer dew.
Not that our wifhes do increafe your store,
Full of yourself you can admit no more :
We add not to your glory, but employ
Our time, like angels, in expreffing joy.
Nor is it duty, or our hopes alone,
Create that joy, but full fruition:
We know thofe bleffings which we must poffefs,
And judge of future by past happiness.
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