Ah! mild and gall-less dove,

We fear'd, that the fanatic war, Which dost the pure and candid dwellings love, Which men against God's houses did declare, Canst thou in Albion still delight?

Would from the Almighty enemy bring down Still canst thou think it white?

A sure destruction on our own. Will ever fair Religion appear

We read th' instructive histories which tell In these deform'd ruins ? will she clear

Of all those endless mischiefs that befel Th' Augean stables of her churches here? The sacred town which God had lov'd so well, Will Justice hazard to be seen

After that fatal curse had once been said, Where a high court of justice e'er has been? “ His blood be upon ours and on our children's Will not the tragic scene,

head." And Bradshaw's bloody ghost, affright her there, we know, though there a greater blood was spilt, Her, who shall never fear?

'Twas scarcely done with greater guilt. Then may Whitehall for Charles's seat be fit, We know those miseries did befal If Justice shall endure at Westminster to sit. Whilst they rebell'd against that prince, whom all Of all, methinks, we leapt should see

The rest of mankind did the love and joy of man. The chearful looks again of Liberty.

kind call. That name of Cromwell, which does freshly still Already was the shaken nation The curses of so many sufferers fill,

Into a wild and deform'd chaos bronght, Is still enough to make her stay,

And it was lasting on (we thought) And jealous for a while remain,

Eren to the last of ills-annihilation: Lest, as a tempest carried him away,

When, in the midst of this confused night, Some hurricane should bring him back again. Lo! the blest Spirit mov’d, "and there was light;" Or, she might justlier be afraid

For, in the glorious general's previous ray, Lest that great serpent, which was all a tail,

We saw a new created day: (And in his poisonous folds whole nations pri- We by it saw, though yet in mists it shone, soners made)

The beauteous work of Order moving on. Should a third time perhaps prevail Where are the men who bragg’d that God did bless, To join again, and with worse sting arise,

And with the marks of good success As it had done when cal in pieces twice.

Sign his allowance of their wickedness? Return, return, ye sacred Four !

Vain men! who thought the Divine Power to find
And dread your perish'd enemies no more. In the fierce thunder and the violent wind :
Your fears are causeless all, and vain,

God came not till the storm was past;
Whilst you return in Charles's train ; In the still voice of Peace he came at last!
For God does him, that he might you, restore, The cruel business of destruction
Nor shall the world him only call

May by the claws of the great fiend be done;
Defender of the Faith, but of you all.

Here, here we see the Almighty's hand indeed, Along with you plenty and riches go,

Both by the beauty of the work we see't, and by With a full tide to eyery port they flow,

the speed. With a warm fruitful wind o’er all the country He who had seen the noble British heir, blow.

Even in that ill disadvantageons light Honour does, as ye' march, her trumpet sound, With which misfortune strives t' abuse our sight The Arts encompass you around,

He who had seen him in his cloud so bright And, against all alarms of Fear,

He who had seen the double pair Safety itself brings up the rear.

of brothers, heavenly good! and sisters, hea. And, in the head of this angelic band,

venly fairLo! how the goodly prince at last does stand Might have perceir'd, methinks, with ease, (O righteous God!) on his own happy land:

(But wicked men see only what they please) Tis happy now, which could with so much ease

That God had no intent t'extinguish quite Recover froin so desperate a disease;

The pious king's eclipsed right. A various complicated ill,

He who had seen how by the Power Divine Whose every symptom was enourch to kill;

All the young branches of this royal line In which one part of three frenzy possest, Did in their fire, without consuming, shine And lethargy the rest :

How through a rough Red-sea they had been led, 'Tis happy, which no bleeding does endure,

By wonders guarded, and by wonders fed-A surfeit of such blood to cure:

How many years of trouble and distress 'Tis happy, wbich beholds the flame

They 'ad wander'd in their fatal wilderness, In which by hostile hands it ought to burn,

And yet did never murmur or repine;-
Or that which, if from Heaven it came,

Might, methinks, plainly understand, It did but well deserve, all into bonfire turn.

That, after all these conquer'd trials past, We fear'd (and almost touch'd the black degree Th’Almighty mercy would at last Of instant expectation)

Conduct them, with a stong unerring hand, That the three dreadful angels we,

To their own promis'd land : of famine, sword, and plague, should here esta- For all the glories of the Earth blish'd see,

Ought to b entail'd by right of birth; (God's great triumvirate of desolation!)

And all Heaven's blessings to come down To scourge and to destroy the sinful nation. Upon his race, to whom alone was given Justly might Heaven Protectors such as those, The double royalty of Earth and Heaven; And such committees, for their safety, impose Who crown'd the kingly with the martyr's Upon a land which scarcely better chose.

power.”

see

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 know, 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,

And when the child's correction proves to be We now the question well decided see,

The cause of perfecting the man:
Which eastern wits did once contest,

Let our weak days lead up the van;
At the great monarch's feast,

Let the brave second and Triarian band
* Of all on earth what things the strongest be?" Firm against all impression stand:
And some for women, some for wine, did plead; The first we may defeated see;
That is, for folly and for rage,

The virtue of the force of these are sure of vic. Two things which we have known indeed

tory.
Strong in this latter age;
But, as 'tis prov'd by Heaven, at length, Such are the years, great Charles! which now we
The king and Truth have greatest strength,
When they their sacred force unite,

Begin their glorious march with thee:
And twine into one right:

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 nerer shall o'er-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 disclainful look behind; No towns; no fleets by sea, or troops by land ;

Things which oficnd when present, and affright, No deeply-entrench'd islands, can withstand, In inemory well-painted move delight. Or any small resistance bring,

Enjoy then all thy allictions nuwAgainst the naked Truth and the unarmed king. Thy royal father's came at last ; The foolish lights which travellers beguile

Thy martyrdom's already past:

And different crowns to both ye owe. End the same night when they begin;

No gold did e'er the kingly temples bind, No art so far can upon Nature win

Than thine more try'd and more resin'd, As e'er to put out stars, or long keep meteors

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: Misled our wandering isle?

On th’ other side, turn'd now to sight, does shine Where's the impostor Cromwell gone? 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 flaine

In all their liveliest colours to set forth
So fatal to our monarchy became;

A picture of heroic worth,
Which o'er our heads in such proud horrour stood, (The pious Trojan or the prudent Greek)
Insatiate with our ruin and our blood ?

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 storins 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 dues 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,
If he be always happy here-

Who's with sufficient virtue fillid
He wants the bleeding marks of grace,
The circumcision of the chosen race.

His ruin'à country to rebuild.
If no one part of him supplies

Nor without cause are arms from Heaven, The duty of a sacrifice,

To such a hero by the poets given He is, we doubt, reserv'd entire

No human metal is of force t'oppose As a whole victim for the fire.

Su mai y and so violent bluwse

Such was the helmet, breast-plate, shield The starry worlds, which shine to us, afar,

Which Charles in all attacks did wield : Take ours at this time for a star. And all the weapons Malice e'er could try, With nine all rooms, with wine the conduits, fow; 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 should not do so. To angels and their brethren spirits above, There is no Stvic, sure, who would not now No show on Earth can sure so pleasant prove, Ev'n 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 urs of black Fate display !

Where's now the royal mother, where,
So were they borne when no disguises' cloud
His inward royalty could sbrowd;

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 queen! That he (and who could better judge than he?)

To see our joy, and with new joy be seen; Dil then more greatness in hiin see,

God has a bright example made of thee, More lustre and more inajesty,

To show that woman-kind may be Than all his coronation pomp can show to human

Above that sex which her superior scems, eye.

In wisely inanaging the wide extremes
Him and his royal brothers when I saw

Of great affliction, great Felicity.
New inarks of honour and of glory How well those different virtues thee 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 boro gatory;

AMiction, that it dares return no inure; 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 inwasted !
The greely tire itself dares not be fed

(Richly adorn'd with nuptial pride) With the blest oil of an anointed head.

Into the hands now of thy son?

'Tis the good general, the man of praise. The honourable name

Whom God at last, in gracious pity, (Which rather light we ought to name)

Did to th' enthralled nation raise,
Does like a glory compass them around,

Their great Zerubbabel to be ;
And their whole body's crown'd.

To loose the bonds of long captivity,
What are those two bright creatures which we see

And to rebuild their temple and their city ! Walk with the royal three In the same ordeal fire,

For ever blest may he and his remain, And mutual joys inspire ?

Who, with a vast, though less appearing, gain,

Preferr'd the solid great above the vain,
Sure they the beauteous sisters are,
Who, whilst they seek to bear their share,

And to the world this princely truth has shown-Will suffer no affliction to be there.

That more 'tis to restore, than to usurp a crown Less favour to those three of old was shown :

Thou worthiest person of the British story! To solace with their company

(Though 'tis not small the British glory)

Did I not know my humble verse must be The fiery trials of adversity !

But ill-proportion'd to the height of thee, Two angels join with these, the other had but

Thou and the world should see

How much my Muse, the fee 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 lliad 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 shamne 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, ye worthies! 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' exainple be One Etna shooting flames into the sea :

Of truth, religion, reason, loyalty :

onc.

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,

T'assure yet my defence on either hand,
That in this sense you shoull be said, Like mighty forts, in equal distance stand
(Though yet the name sounds with some Two of the best and stateliest piles which e'er
dread)

Man's liberal piety of old did rear;
To be the long, the endless, parliament. Where the two princes of th' apostles' band,

My neighbours and my guards, watch and com

mand

My warlike guard of ships, which farther lie, ON THE QUEEN"S 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.
W

hey 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 buth abandon'd to the common foe,

Though both their ruin with joint power conspire, How near to ruin d my glories go !

Both to out-brave, they nothing dread but fire. Nothing remainid 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 bearing, 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,

As soon as from afar he does but look They starv'd to death : the gaspiug walls were 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 : caine !

In me the active and the quiet mind, It does not fill her bounty to restore

By different ways, cqual content may find. Me as I was (nor was I sinall beforej:

If any prouder virtuoso's sense She im tates 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 iny great mistress I so humble sce

For the distress'd and the aticted 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 fleet, 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 hence 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 sind, 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 rougb sea is fillid.
Por ever gazes on itself below,
In the best mirror that the world can show.

And here behold, in a long bending row,
How two joint cities make one glorious bow !

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,
Which way soe'er I turn my joyful eye,

Th' uncomfortable shade
Here the great court, there the rich town I spy ; Of the black yew's unlucky green,

Mixt with the mourning willow's careful grey, But then, alas ! to thee alone,
Where reverend Cham cuts out his famous way, One of old Gideon's miracles was shown;
The melancholy Cowley lay :

For every tree and every herb around
And lo! a Muse appear'd to's closed sight,

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 strain feet.

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 fling 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,

all,” Would'st into courts and cities from me go; Wonld'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 melancholy Cowley saidcreate;

“Ah, wanton foe! dost thou upbraid Business! the frivolous pretence

The ills which thou thyself bast made!
Of human lusts, to shake off ionocence;

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
And see to what amount

My ravish'd freedom to regain;
Thy foolish gains by quitting me:

Still I rebel, still ihou dost reign;
The sale of knowledge, fame, and liberty, Lo! still in verse against thee I complain.
The fruits of thy unleari'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, t'pon the naked beach, upon the barren sand !

That ever since I vainly try

To wash away th' inherent dye: “ As a fair moming of the blessed spring, Long work perhaps may spoil thy colours quite, After a tedious stormy night,

But never will reduce the native white: Soch was the glorious entry of our king;

To all the ports of bonour and of gain, Enriching moisture drop'd on every thing:

I often steer my course in vain; Pieaty he sow'd below, and cast about him light! | Thy gale comes cross, and drives me back again.

VOL. VII,