My dearest Acme, if I be

Once alive, and love not thee
With a passion far above
All that e'er was called love;

In a Libyan desert may
I become some lion's prey;
Let him, Acme, let him tear

My breast, when Acne is not there."
The god of love, who stood to hear him
(The god of love was always near him)
Pleas'd and tickled with the sound,
Sneez'd aloud; and all around
The little Loves, that waited by,
Bow'd, and blest the augury.
Acme, enflam'd with what he said,
Rear'd her gently-bending head;
And, her purple mouth with joy
Stretching to the delicious boy,
Twice (and twice could scarce suffice)
She kist his drunken rolling eyes.

So may thy passion last for me,
As I a passion have for thee,
Greater and fiercer much than can
Be conceiv'd by thee a man!
Into my marrow is it gone,
Fixt and settled in the bone;
It reigns not only in my heart,

But runs, like life, through every part."
She spoke; the god of love aloud
Sneez'd again; and all the crowd
Of little Loves, that waited by,
Bow'd, and blest the augury.
This good omen thus from Heaven
Like a happy signal given,

Their loves and lives (all four) embrace,
Aud hand in hand run all the race.
To poor Septimius (who did now
Nothing else but Acme grow)
Acme's bosom was alone

The whole world's imperial throne;

And to faithful Acme's mind
Septimius was all human-kind.
If the gods would please to be
But advis'd for once by me,
I'd advise them, when they spy
Any illustrious piety,

To reward her, if it be she-
To reward him, if it be he-
With such a husband, such a wife;
With Acme's and Septimius' life.

ODE

Virg.

UPON HIS MAJESTY'S RESTORATION AND RETURN.
-Quod optanti divûm promittere nemo
Auderet, volvenda dies, en, attulit ultro.
Now blessings on you all, ye peaceful stars,
Which meet at last so kindly, and dispense
Your universal gentle influence

To calm the stormy world, and still the rage of wars!
Nor, whilst around the continent
Plenipotentiary beams ye sent,

Did your pacific lights disdain
In their large treaty to contain

The world apart, o'er which do reign

Your seven fair brethren of great Charles his wain; No star amongst ye all did, I believe,

Such vigorous assistance give, As that which, thirty years ago, At Charles's birth 3, did, in despite Of the proud Sun's meridian light, His future glories and this year foreshow. No less effects than these we may Be assur'd of from that powerful ray, Which could out-face the Sun, and overcome the day,

Auspicious star! again arise,

And take thy noon-tide station in the skies,
Again all heaven prodigiously adorn;
For lo! thy Charles again is born.
He then was born with and to pain;
With and to joy he's born again.
And, wisely for this second birth,
By which thou certain were to bless

The land with full and flourishing happiness,

Thou mad'st of that fair month thy choice, In which heaven, air, and sea, and earth, And all that's in them, all, does smile and does rejoice.

'Twas a right season; and the very ground Ought with a face of Paradise to be found,

Then, when we were to entertain

Felicity and Innocence again..

Shall we again (good Heaven!) that blessed pair be

hold,

Which the abused people fondly sold

For the bright fruit of the forbidden tree,

By seeking all like gods to be? Will Peace her halcyon nest venture to build Upon a shore with shipwrecks fill'd, And trust that sea, where she can hardly say She has known these twenty years one calmy day?

3 The star that appeared at noon, the day of the king's birth, just as the king his father was riding to St. Paul's to give thanks to God for that blessing.

Ah! mild and gall-less dove,
Which dost the pure and candid dwellings love,
Canst thou in Albion still delight?
Still canst thou think it white?

Will ever fair Religion appear
In these deform'd ruins? will she clear
Th' Augean stables of her churches here?
Will Justice hazard to be seen
Where a high court of justice e'er has been?
Will not the tragic scene,
And Bradshaw's bloody ghost, affright her there,
Her, who shall never fear?
Then may Whitehall for Charles's seat be fit,
If Justice shall endure at Westminster to sit.
Of all, methinks, we least should see
The chearful looks again of Liberty.
That name of Cromwell, which does freshly still
The curses of so many sufferers fill,

Is still enough to make her stay,
And jealous for a while remain,
Lest, as a tempest carried him away,
Some hurricane should bring him back again.
Or, she might justlier be afraid
Lest that great serpent, which was all a tail,
(And in his poisonous folds whole nations pri-
soners made)

Should a third time perhaps prevail To join again, and with worse sting arise, As it had done when cut in pieces twice. Return, return, ye sacred Four! And dread your perish'd enemies no more. Your fears are causeless all, and vain, Whilst you return in Charles's train; For God does him, that he might you, restore, Nor shall the world him only call Defender of the Faith, but of you all.

Along with you plenty and riches go,
With a full tide to every port they flow,
With a warm fruitful wind o'er all the country
blow.

Honour does, as ye march, her trumpet sound,
The Arts encompass you around,
And, against all alarms of 'Fear,

Safety itself brings up the rear. And, in the head of this angelic band, Lo! how the goodly prince at last does stand (O righteous God!) on his own happy land: 'Tis happy now, which could with so much ease Recover from so desperate a disease; A various complicated ill,

Whose every symptom was enough to kill;
In which one part of three frenzy possest,
And lethargy the rest:

'Tis happy, which no bleeding does endure,
A surfeit of such blood to cure:

"Tis happy, which beholds the flame

In which by hostile hands it ought to burn,
Or that which, if from Heaven it caine,
It did but well deserve, all into bonfire turn.
We fear'd (and almost touch'd the black degree
Of instant expectation)

That the three dreadful angels we, Of famine, sword, and plague, should here establish'd see,

(God's great triumvirate of desolation!)
To scourge and to destroy the sinful nation.
Justly might Heaven Protectors such as those,
And such committees, for their safety, impose
Upon a land which scarcely better chose.

We fear'd, that the fanatic war, Which men against God's houses did declare, Would from the Almighty enemy bring down A sure destruction on our own. We read th' instructive histories which tell Of all those endless mischiefs that befel The sacred town which God had lov'd so well, After that fatal curse had once been said, "His blood be upon ours and on our children's head."

We know, though there a greater blood was spilt, 'Twas scarcely done with greater guilt. We know those miseries did befal Whilst they rebell'd against that prince, whom all The rest of mankind did the love and joy of mankind call.

Already was the shaken nation
Into a wild and deform'd chaos brought,
And it was hasting ou (we thought)
Even to the last of ills-annihilation:
When, in the midst of this confused night,
Lo! the blest Spirit mov'd, "and there was light;"
For, in the glorious general's previous ray,
We saw a new created day:

We by it saw, though yet in mists it shone,
The beauteous work of Order moving on.
Where are the men who bragg'd that God did bless,
And with the marks of good success
Sign his allowance of their wickedness?
Vain men! who thought the Divine Power to find
In the fierce thunder and the violent wind:
God came not till the storm was past;
In the still voice of Peace he came at last!
The cruel business of destruction

May by the claws of the great fiend be done;
Here, here we see th' Almighty's hand indeed,
Both by the beauty of the work we see't, and by
the speed.

He who had seen the noble British heir,
Even in that ill disadvantageons light
With which misfortune strives t'abuse our sight-
He who had seen him in his cloud so bright-
He who had seen the double pair

Of brothers, heavenly good! and sisters, heavenly fair!

Might have perceiv'd, methinks, with ease, (But wicked men see only what they please) That God had no intent t' extinguish quite The pious king's eclipsed right. He who had seen how by the Power Divine All the young branches of this royal line Did in their fire, without consuming, shineHow through a rough Red-sea they had beented, By wonders guarded, and by wonders fedHow many years of trouble and distress They 'ad wander'd in their fatal wilderness, And yet did never murmur or repine;

Might, methinks, plainly understand, That, after all these conquer'd trials past, Th' Almighty mercy would at last Conduct them, with a stong unerring hand, To their own promis'd land: For all the glories of the Earth

Ought to b' entail'd by right of birth; And all Heaven's blessings to come down Upon his race, to whom alone was given The double royalty of Earth and Heaven; Who crown'd the kingly with the martyr's

crown.

The martyrs' blood was said, of old, to be

The seed from whence the church did
grow.

The royal blood which dying Charles did sow
Becomes no less the seed of royalty:

"Twas in dishonour sown;

We find it now in glory grown, The grave could but the dross of it devour; ""Twas sown in weakness, and 'tis rais'd in power."

We now the question well decided see,
Which eastern wits did once contest,

At the great monarch's feast,

"Of all on earth what things the strongest be?" And some for women, some for wine, did plead; That is, for folly and for rage,

Two things which we have known indeed
Strong in this latter age;

But, as 'tis prov'd by Heaven, at length,
The king and Truth have greatest strength,
When they their sacred force unite,

And twine into one right:

No frantic commonwealths or tyrannies;
No cheats, and perjuries, and lies;

No nets of human policies;

Besides, ev'n in this world below,

To those who never did ill-fortune know, The good does nauseous or insipid grow. Consider man's whole life, and you'll confess The sharp ingredient of some bad success

Is that which gives the taste to all his happiness. But the true method of felicity

Is, when the worst

Of human life is plac'd the first,
And when the child's correction proves to be
The cause of perfecting the man:
Let our weak days lead up the van;

Let the brave second and Triarian baud
Firm against all impression stand:
The first we inay defeated see;

The virtue of the force of these are sure of victory.

Such are the years, great Charles! which now we

see

Begin their glorious march with thee: Long may their march to Heaven, and still triumphant be!

Now thou art gotten once before,
Ill-fortune never shall o'er-take thee more.

Cast a disdainful look behind;

So fatal to our monarchy became ;

Things which offend when present, and affright,
In memory well-painted move delight.

Enjoy then all thy afflictions now—
Thy royal father's came at last;
Thy martyrdom's already past:
And different crowns to both ye owe.
No gold did e'er the kingly temples bind,

Than thine more try'd and more refin'd,
As a choice medal for Heaven's treasury,
The image of his suffering humanity:
God did stamp first upon one side of thee

On th' other side, turn'd now to sight, does shine
The glorious image of his power divine!

So, when the wisest poets seek

In all their liveliest colours to set forth
A picture of heroic worth,

Insatiate with our ruin and our blood?

The fiery tail did to vast length extend;
And twice for want of fuel did expire,

And twice renew'd the dismal fire':

'Though long the tail, we saw at last its end.
The flames of one triumphant day.
Which, like an anti-comet here,
Did fatally to that appear,
For ever frighted it away:

Then did th' allotted hour of dawning right
First strike our ravish'd sight;

Which Malice or which Art no more could stay,
Than witches' charms can a retardment bring
To the resuscitation of the Day,

Or resurrection of the Spring..
We welcome both, and with improv'd delight
Bless the preceding Winter, and the Night!
Man ought his future happiness to fear,
If he be always happy here-

He wants the bleeding marks of grace,
The circumcision of the chosen race.
If no one part of him supplies

The duty of a sacrifice,

He is, we doubt, reserv'd entire
As a whole victim for the fire,

They chuse some comely prince of heavenly

birth,

(No proud gigantic son of Earth, Who strives t' usurp the gods' forbidden scat) They feed him not with nectar, and the meat That cannot without joy be ate;

But, in the cold of want, and storms of adverse chance,

They harden his young virtue by degrees:
The beauteous drop first into ice does freeze,
And into solid crystal next advance.

His murder'd friends and kindred he does see
And from his flaming country flee:
Much is he tost at sea, and much at land;
Does long the force of angry gods withstand:
He does long troubles and long wars sustain,
Ere he his fatal birth-right gain.
With no less time or labour can
Destiny build up such a man,
Who's with sufficient virtue fill'd

His ruin'd country to rebuild.

Nor without cause are arms from Heaven,

To such a hero by the poets given

No human metal is of force t' oppose

So many and so violent blows.