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No promise can oblige a prince so much
Still to be good, as long to have been fuch.
A noble emulation heats your breast,
And

your own fame now robs you of your rest.
Good actions still must be maintain’d with good,
As bodies nourish'd with resembling food.
You have already quench'd fedition's brand;
And zeal, which burnt it, only warms the land.
The jealous feets, that dare not trust their cause
So far from their own will as to the laws,
You for their umpire and their fynod take,
And their appeal alone to Cæsar make.
Kind heaven so rare a temper did provide,
That guilt repenting might in it confide.
Among our crimes oblivion may be set :
But 'tis our king's perfection to forget.
Virtues unknown to these rough northern climes
From milder heavens you bring without their crimes.
Your calmness does no after-storms provide,
Nor seeming patience mortal anger hide.
When empire first from families did spring,
Then

every father govern'd as a king : But

you, that are a sovereign prince, allay Imperial power with your paternal sway. From those great cares when ease your soul unbends, Your pleasures are design'd to noble ends ? Born to command the mistress of the seas, Your thoughts themselves in that blue empire please. Hither in summer evenings you repair To taste the fraicheur of the purer

air : VOL. I.

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Undaunted here you ride, when winter raves,
With Cæsar's heart that rose above the waves.
More I could fing, but fear my numbers stays ;
No loyal subject dares that courage praise.
In stately frigates most delight you find,
Where well-drawn battles fire your martial mind.
What to your cares we owe, is learnt from hence,
When ev’n your pleasures serve for our defence.
Beyond your court flows in th' admitted tide,
Where in new depths the wondering fishes glide :
Here in a royal bed the waters sleep;
When, tir'd at sea, within this bay they creep.
Here the mistrustful fowl no harm suspects,
So safe are all things which our king protects.
From
your

lord Thames a blessing yet is due,
Second alone to that it brought in you;
A queen, near whose chaste womb, ordain’d by fate,
The souls of kings unborn for bodies wait.
It was your love before made discord cease :
Your love is destin’d to your country's peace.
Both Indies, rivals in your bed, provide
With gold or jewels to adorn your bride.
This to a mighty king presents rich ore,
While that with incense does a god implore.
Two kingdoms wait your doom, and, as you choose,
This must receive a crown, or that must lose.
Thus from your royal oak, like Jove's of old,
Are answers sought, and destinies foretold :
Propitious oracles are begg'd with vows,
And crowns that grow upon the sacred boughs.

Your subjects, while you weigh the nation's fate,
Suspend to both their doubtful love or hate :
Chuse only, fir, that so they may possess
With their own peace their children's happiness.

To the LORD CHANCELLOR HYD E.

Presented on New-Year's Day, 1662.

MY LORD, WH

HILE flattering crouds officiously appear

To give themselves, not you, an happy year ;
And by the greatness of their presents prove
How much they hope, but not how well they love ;
The Muses, who your early courtship boast,
Though now your flames are with their beauty loft,
Yet watch their time, that, if you

have forgot
They were your mistresses, the world may not :
Decay'd by time and wars, they only prove
Their former beauty by your former love ;
And now present, as ancient ladies do,
That courted long, at length are forc’d' to woo.
For still they look on you with such kind eyes,
As those that see the church's sovereign rise ;
From their own order chose, in whose high state,
They think themselves the second choice of fate.
When our great monarch into exile went,
Wit and religion suffer'd hanishment.
Thus once, when Troy was wrap'd in fire and smoke,
The helpless gods their hurning lhrines forsook ;
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They

They with the vanquish'd prince and party go,
And leave their temples empty to the foe.
At length the Muses stand, restor'd again
To that great charge which nature did ordain;
And their lov'd Druids seem reviv'd by fate,
While you dispense the laws, and guide the state.
The nation's soul, our monarch, does dispense,
Through you, to us, his vital influence ;
You are the channel, where those spirits flow,
And work them higher, as to us they go.

In open prospect nothing bounds our eye,
Untill the earth seems join'd unto the sky :
So in this hemisphere our utmost view
Is only bounded by our king and you :
Our sight is limited where you are join’d,
And beyond that no farther heaven can find.
So well your virtues do with his agree,
That, though your orbs of different greatness be,
Yet both are for each other's use dispos'd,
His to inclose, and yours to be inclos’d.
Nor could another in your room have been,
Except an emptiness had come between.
Well

may he then to you his cares impart,
And share his burden where he shares his heart.
In you his sleep still wakes ; his pleasures find
Their share of business in your laboring mind.
So when the weary sun his place resigns,
He leaves his light, and by reflection lines.

Justice, that fits and frowns where public laws
Exclude soft mercy from a private cause,

In

In your

tribunal most herself does please ; There only smiles because the lives at ease ; And, like young David, finds her strength the more, When disincumber'd from those arms she wore. Heaven would our royal master should exceed Most in that virtue, which we most did need; And his mild father (who too late did find All mercy vain but what with power was join'd) His fatal goodness left to fitter times, Not to increase, but to absolve, our crimes : But when the heir of this vast treasure knew How large a legacy was left to you (Too great for any subject to retain), He wisely ty'd it to the crown again : Yet, passing through your hands, it gathers more, As streams, through mines, bear tincture of their ore. While empiric politicians use deceit, Hide what they give, and cure but by a cheat ; You boldly shew that skill which they pretend, And work by means as noble as your end : Which should you veil, we might unwind the clue, As men do nature, till we came to you. And as the Indies were not found, before Those rich perfumes, which, from the happy shore, The winds upon their balmy wings convey'd, Whose guilty sweetness first their world betray'd; So by your counsels we are brought to view A rich and undiscover'd world in you, By you our monarch does that fame assure, Which kings must have, or cannot live secure :

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