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With wonders born, by miracles preserv'd,
A heavenly Hoft the infant's cradle ferv'd :
And men his healing empire's omen read,
When fun with stars, and day with night agreed,
His youth for valorous patience was renown'd;
Like David, perfecuted first, then crown'd:
Lov'd in all courts, admir'd where'er he came,
At once our nation's glory, and its fhame :
They bleft the ifle where fuch great spirits dwell,
Abhorr'd the men, that could fuch worth expel.
To fpare our lives, he meekly did defeat

Thofe Sauls, whom wand'ring affes made fo great;
Waiting till heaven's election fhould be shown,
And the Almighty should his unction own.

And own he did

his powerful arm display'd;

And Ifrael, the belov'd of God, obey'd;


Call'd by his people's tears, he came, he eas'd
The groaning nation, the black storms appeas'd,
Did greater bleffings, than he took, afford
England itself was more, than he, restor❜d.
Unhappy Albion, by ftrange ills opprefs'd,
In various fevers toft, could find no reft;
Quite fpent and weary'd, to his arms fhe fled,
And rested on his shoulders her fair bending head.
In conquefts mild, he came from exile kind;
No climes, no provocations, chang'd his mind;
No malice fhew'd, no hate, revenge, or pride,
But rul'd as meekly, as his father dy'd;
Eas'd us from endlefs wars, made difcords ceafe,
Reftor'd to quict, and maintain'd in peace.

A mighty

A mighty series of new time began,

And rolling years in joyful circles ran.

Then wealth the city, bufinefs fill'd the port,
To mirth our tumults turn'd, our wars to fport :
Then learning flourish'd, blooming arts did fpring,
And the glad Mufes prun'd their drooping wing:
Then did our flying towers improvement know,
Who now command as far as winds can blow;
With canvass wings round all the globe they fly,
And, built by Charles's art, all storms defy;
Το every coaft with ready fails are hurl'd,
Fill us with wealth, and with our fame the world;
From whofe diftractions feas do us divide;

Their riches here in floating caftles ride.
We reap the fwarthy Indian's fweat and toil;
Their fruit, without the mischiefs of their foil.
Here in cool fhades their gold and pearls receive,
Free from the heat which does their luftre give.
In Perfian filks, eat Eaftern fpice; fecure
From burning fluxes, and their calenture:
Under our vines, upon the peaceful shore,
We fee all Europe toast, hear tempests roar :
Rapine, fword, wars, and famine, rage abroad,
While Charles their hoft, like Jove from Ida, aw'd;
Us from our foes, and from ourselves did fhield,
Our towns from tumults, and from arms the field;
For when bold Faction goodnefs could difdain,
Unwillingly he us'd a straiter rein:

In the ftill gentle voice he lov'd to fpeak,
But could with thunder harden'd rebels break.


Yet though they wak'd the laws, his tender mind
Was undisturb'd, in wrath feverely kind;
Tempting his power, and urging to affume;
Thus Jove in love did Semele confume.

As the ftout oak, when round his trunk the vine
Does in foft wreaths and amorous foldings twine,
Easy and flight appears; the winds from far
Summon their noify forces to the war:

But though fo gentle feems his outward form,
His hidden ftrenth out-braves the loudest ftorm:
Firmer he stands, and boldly keeps the field,
Shewing ftout minds, when unprovok'd, are mild.
So when the good man made the crowd prefume,
He fhew'd himself, and did the king affume :
For goodness in excess may be a fin,

Juftice muft tame, whom mercy cannot win.
Thus winter fixes the unftable fea,

And teaches reftlefs water conftancy,
Which under the warm influence of bright days,
The fickle motion of each blast obeys.
To bridle factions, ftop rebellion's course,
By eafy methods, vanquish without force;
Relieve the good, bold ftubborn foes fubdue,
Mildness in wrath, meeknefs in anger shew,
Were arts great Charles's prudence only knew.
To fright the bad, thus awful thunder rolls,
While the bright bow fecures the faithful fouls.
Such is thy glory, Charles, thy lafting name,
Brighter than our proud neighbour's guilty fame;



More noble than the spoils that battles yield,
Or all the empty triumphs of the field.

'Tis lefs to conquer, than to make war cease,
And without fighting, awe the world to peace :
For proudeft triumphs from contempt arife;
The vanquish'd firft the conqueror's arms despise :
Won enfigns are the gaudy marks of scorn,
They brave the victor firft, and then adorn.
But peaceful monarchs reign like gods: while none
Difpute, all love, bless, reverence their throne.
Tigers and bears, with all the favage host,

May boldness, ftrength, and daring conquest boast;
But the fweet paffions of a generous mind
Are the prerogative of human-kind;
The god-like image, on our clay impreft,
The darling attribute which heaven loves best :
In Charles fo good a man and king, we fee
A double image of the deity.

Oh! had he more resembled it! Oh, why
Was he not still more like, and could not die?
Now do our thoughts alone enjoy his name,
And faint ideas of our bleffing frame !

In Thames, the Ocean's darling, England's pride,
The pleafing emblem of his reign does glide:
Thames the support and glory of our isle,
Richer than Tagus, or Ægyptian Nile :

Though no rich fand in him, no pearls are found,
Yet fields rejoice, his meadows laugh around;
Lefs wealth his bofom holds, lefs guilty ftores,
For he exhaufts himself, t'enrich the shores.

Mild and ferene the peaceful current flows,
No angry foam, no raging furges knows;
No dreadful wrecks upon his banks appear,
His crystal stream unftain'd by widows tear,
His channel ftrong and easy, deep and clear.
No arbitrary inundations sweep

The plowman's hopes, and life into the deep;
His even waters the old limits keep.

But oh! he ebbs, the finiling waves decay,
For ever, lovely ftream, for ever stay!

To the black fea his filent courfe does bend,
Where the best streams, the longest rivers, end.
His fpotlefs waves there undistinguish'd pass,

None fee, how clear, how bounteous, sweet, he was.
No difference now, though late fo much, is seen,
'Twixt him, fierce Rhine, and the impetuous Seine.
But lo! the joyful tide our hopes restores,

And dancing waves extend the widening fhores.
James is our Charles in all things but in name :
Thus Thames is daily loft, yet ftill the fame.

ODE on the Marriage of the Princess AN NE and Prince GEORGE of DENMARK.



HILST black designs (that direful work of Fate)
Distract the labouring state;

Whilft (like the fea) around loud difcords roar,
Breaking their fury on the frighted shore ;

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