Which on the TURKS fhall greater honor gain,
Than all their giants, and their monsters, flain,
Those are bold tales, in fabulous ages told;
This glorious act the living do behold.

To the QUEEN, upon her MAJESTY'S Birth-Day, after her happy Recovery from a dangerous Sickness.

AREWELL the year! which threaten'd so

Welcome the new! whose ev'ry day,
Restoring what was snatch'd away
By pining fickness from the Fair,
That matchless beauty does repair;
So faft, that the approaching spring,
(Which does to flow'ry meadows bring,
What the rude winter from them tore)
Shall give her all the had before.

But, we recover not fo faft

The fenfe of fuch a danger paft;
We, that esteem'd you fent from heav'n,
A pattern to this island giv'n;

To fhew us what the Bless'd do there;
And what alive they practis'd here;
When that which we immortal thought,
We faw fo near deftruction brought,
Felt all which you did then indure;
And tremble yet, as not secure.
So, tho the fun victorious be,
And from a dark eclipfe fet free;

The

The influence, which we fondly fear,
Afflicts our thoughts the following year.
But, that which may relieve our care
Is, that you have a help fo near
For all the evil you can prove ;
The kindness of your Royal Love.
He that was never known to mourn,
So many kingdoms from him torn,
His tears referv'd for you: more dear,
More priz'd, than all thofe kingdoms were!
For when no healing art prevail'd,

When cordials, and elixirs, fail'd

On your pale cheek, he drop'd the how'r,
Reviv'd you like a dying flow'r.

Sung by Mrs. KNIGHT to her MAJESTY, on her Birth-Day.

T

HIS happy day two lights are feen,
A glorious Saint, a matchlefs Queen:
Both nam'd alike, both crown'd appear,
The Saint above, th' INFANTA here.
May all thofe years, which CATHERINE
The Martyr, did for heav'n refign,

Be added to the line

Of your

bleft life among us here!

For all the pains that fhe did feel,

And all the torments of her wheel,

May you as many pleafures fhare!
May heav'n itself content

With CATHERINE the Saint!

Without

Without appearing old,

An hundred times may you,
With eyes as bright as now,
This welcome day behold!

Of her MAJESTY on NEW-YEAR'S
DAY, 1683.

THAT revolutions in the world have been,

WHAT

How are we chang'd, fince we first faw the She, like the Sun, does ftill the fame appear; [Queen? Bright as fhe was at her arrival here!

TIME has commiffion mortals to impair,
But things cœleftial is oblig'd to fpare.

May ev'ry New-Year find her ftill the fame,
In health, and beauty, as fhe hither came!
When Lords, and Commons, with united voice,
Th' INFANTA nam'd, approv'd the royal choice;
First of our Queens, whom not the KING alone,
But the whole nation, lifted to the throne.

With like confent, and like defert, was crown'd The glorious Prince, that does the TURK confound. Victorious both! His conduct wins the day; And her example chafes vice away.

Tho' louder fame attend the martial 'Tis greater glory to reform the age.

rage,

Of TEA, commended by her MAJESTY.

ENUS her myrtle, PHOEBUS has his bays;

to

The best of Queens, and beft of herbs, we owe
To that bold nation which the way did show

To the fair region, where the fun does rife ;
Whose rich productions we fo juftly prize.
The Mufe's friend, Tea, does our fancy aid;
Reprefs those vapors which the head invade ;
And keeps that palace of the foul ferene,
Fit, on her Birth-day, to falute the Queen,

PROLOGUE for the Lady-Actors:
Spoken before K. CHARLES II.

A

MAZE us not with that majestic frown; But lay afide the greatnefs of your crown! And for that look, which does your people awe, When in your throne, and robes, you give them law, Lay it by here; and give a gentler fimile! Such as we fee great Jove's in picture, while He liftens to APOLLO's charming lyre, Or judges of the fongs he does infpire. Comedians on the Stage fhew all their skill, And after do as love, and fortune, will: We are lefs careful, hid in this difguife; In our own cloaths more serious, and more wife. Modeft at home, upon the Stage more bold; We feem warm lovers, tho' our breafts be cold. A fault committed here deferves no fcorn, If we act well the parts to which we're born.

Of

Of her Royal HIGHNESS, Mother to the Prince of ORANGE: and of her Portrait written by the late Dutchefs of YORK while fhe lived with her.

H

EROIC Nymph! in tempefts the support, In peace the glory, of the BRITISH Court! Into whofe arms, the Church, the State, and all That precious is, or facred here, did fall.

Ages to come, that shall your bounty hear, Will think miftrefs of the INDIES were: you

Tho' ftreighter bounds your fortune did confine, In your large heart was found a wealthy Mine : Like the bleft oil, the widow's lafting feast, Your treasure, as you pour'd it out, increas'd. While fome your beauty, fome your bounty fing, Your native Ifle does with your praises ring: But above all, a* Nymph of your own train, Gives us your character in such a strain, As none but she, who in that court did dwell,, Could know fuch worth; or worth describe fo well, So, while we mortals here at heav'n do guess, And more our weakness, than the place, exprefs; Some angel, a domeftic there, comes down, And tells the wonders he hath feen, and known. To the Duchefs of ORLEANS, when she was taking leave of the Court at Dover.

fun of beauty did among us rife,

Τ TENGLAND firft faw the light of your fair eyes.

In ENGLISH too your early wit was shown:
Favor that language! which was then your own,

* Lady ANNE HYDE,

03

When