Obrazy na stronie

Yet for his pains he soon did him remove,

His passage after her withstood. From all th' oppression and the woe

What should she do ? through all the moving wood Of his frail body's native soil below,

Of lives endow'd with sense she took her flight: To his soul's true and peaceful country above : Harvey pursues, and keeps her still in sight. So godlike kings, for secret causes, known But as the deer, long-hunted, takes a flood, Sometimes, but to themselves alone,

She leap'd at last into the winding streams of One of their ablest ministers elect,

blood; And sent abroad to treaties, which they intend Of man's

meander all the purple reaches made, Shall never take effect;

Till at the heart she stay'd; But, though the treaty wants a happy end,

Where turning head, and at a bay, The happy agent wants not the reward,

Thus by well-purged ears was she o'erheard to For which he labour'd faithfully and hard;

say; His just and righteous master calls him home And gives him, near himself, some honourable room.

“ Here sure shall I be safe” (said she)

“ None will be able sure to see Noble and great endeavours did he bring

This my retreat, but only he
To save his country, and restore his king;

Who made both it and me,
And, whilst the manly half of him (which those The heart of man what art can e'er reveal?
Who know not love, to be the whole suppose)

A wall impervious between
Perform'd all parts of Virtue's vigorous life;

Divides the very parts within, The beauteous half, his lovely wife,'

And doth theheart of man er'n from itself conceal." Did all his labours and his cares divide;

She spoke: but, ere she was aware, Nor was a lame nor paralytic side:

Harvey was with her there; In all the turns of human state,

And held this slippery Proteus in a chain, And all th' unjust attacks of Fate,

Till all her mighty mysteries he desery'd; She bore her share and portion still,

Which from his wit th attempt before to hide And would not suffer any to be ill.

Was the first thing that Nature did in vain.
Unfortunate for ever let me be,
If I believe that such was he

He the young practice of new life did see, Whom in the storms of bad success,

Whilst, to conceal its toilsome poverty, And all that errour calls unhappiness,

It for a living wrought, both hard and privately. His virtue and his virtuous wife did still accompany;

Before the liver understood

The noble scarlet dye of blood; With these companions 'twas not strange

Before one drop was by it made, That nothing could his temper change. Or brought into it, to set up the trade; His own and country's union had not weight Before the untaught heart began to beat Enough to crush his mighty mind :

The tuneful march to vital heat; He saw around the hurricanes of state,

From all the souls that living buildings rear, Fixt as an island 'gainst the waves and wind.

Whether employ'd for earth, or sea, or air; Thus far the greedy sea may reach;

Whether it in womb or egg be wrought; All outward things are but the beach;

A strict account to him is hourly brought A great man's soul it doth assault in vain !

How the great fabric does proceed, Their God himself the ocean doth restrain

What time, and what materials, it does need; With an imperceptible chain,

He so exactly does the work survey, And bid it to go back again.

As if he hir'd the workers by the day. His wisdom, justice, and his piety,

Thus Harvey sought for truth in Truth's own book, His courage both to suffer and to die,

The creatures which by God himself was writ: His virtues, and his lady too,

And wisely thought 'twas fit, Were things celestial. And we see,

Not to read comments only upon it,
In spite of quarrelling Philosophy,

But on th' original itself to look.
How in this case 'tis certain found,
That Heaven stands still, and only Earth goes round. Methinks in Art's great circle

others stand
Lock'd-up together, hand in hand;
Every one leads as he is led;

The same bare path they tread,

And dance, like fairies, a fantastic round,
But neither change their motion nor their ground:

Had Harvey to this road confin'd his wit,
Cor Nature (which remain'd, though aged grown, His noble circle of the blood had been 'untrodden
A beauteous virgin still, enjoy'd by none,


Great Doctor! th' art of curing's cur'd by thee; Nor seen unveil'd by any one)

We now thy patient, Physic, see When Harvey's violent passion she did see,

From all inveterate diseases free,
Began to tremble and to flee;

Purg'd of old errours by thy care,
Took sanctuary, like Daphne, in a tree :
There Daphne's lover stopp'd, and thought it much New dieted, put forth to clearer air;

It now will strong and healthful prove;
The very leaves of her to touch :
But Harvey, our Apollo, stopp'd not so;

Itself before lethargic lay, and could not more! Into the bark and root he after her did go ? These useful secrets to his pen we owe ! No smallest fibres of a plant.

And thousands more 'twas ready to bestow; For which the eye-beams point doth sharpness of which a barbarous war's unlearned rage want,

Has rutb’d the ruin'd age:


O cruel loss! as if the golden fleece,

With so much cost and labour bought, And from afar by a great hero brought,

Had sunk evin in the ports of Greece. O cursed War! who can forgive thee this?

Houses and towns may rise again;

And ten times easier 'tis
To rebuild Paul's, than any work of his:
That mighty task none but himself can do,

Nay, scarce himself too, now;
For, though his wit the force of age withstand,
His body, alas! and time, it must command ;
And Nature now, so long by him surpass'd,
Will sure have her revenge on him at last.

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.




Whilst on Septimius' panting breast (Meaning nothing less than rest) Acme lean'd her loving head, Thus the pleas'd Septimius said: “ My dearest Arme, if I be Once alive, and lose 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 Acme 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, entlam'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 bis drunken rolling eyes. “ My little life, my all!” (said she) So may we ever servants be To this best god, and ne'er retain Our hated liberty again! 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, Pow'd, and blest the augury. This good omen thus from Heaven Like a happy signal given, Their loves and lives (all four) embrace, And hand in hand run all the race. To poor Septimius (wbo did nuw Nothing else but Acme grow) Acme's bosom was alone The whole world's imperial throne ;

UPON HIS MAJESTY'S RESTORATION AND RETURX. -Quod optanti divům promittere nemo Auderet, volvenda dies, en, attulit ultro. Virg. 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 seren 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, did, in despite

Of the proud Sun's meridian light,
His future glories and this year foreshom.

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 adom;
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 re

joice. '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 bes

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 filld,
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,

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 froin 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 T'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 least should see

The rest of mankind did the love and joy of manThe 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 brought, Is still enough to make her stay,

And it was hasting ou (we thought) And jealous for a while remain,

Even to the last ofills-annihilation: Lest, as a tempest carried him away,

When, in the midst of this confused night, Some burricane should bring him back again. Lo! the blest Spirit movid, "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 brazg'd that God did bless, To juin again, and with worse sting arise,

And with the marks of good success As it had done when cut 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 th’ 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 every 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 Il nour does, as ye march, her trumpet sound, With which misfortunestrives t'abuse our sightThe 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, heaAnd, in the head of this angelic band,

venly fair!Lo! how the goodly prince at last does stand

Might have perceiv'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 from 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 enough to kill; All the young branches of this royal line In which one part of three frenzy possest, Did in their fire, without consuming, shineAnd 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 fedA surfeit of such blood to cnre :

How many years of trouble and distress 'Tis happy, which 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 bere esta For all the glories of the Earth blish'd see,

Ought to bentail'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 Jastly might Heaven Protectors such as those, The double royalty of Earth and leaven; And such committees, for their safety, impose Who crown'd' the kingly with the martyr's Lipon a land which scarcely better cliose,



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

Besides, er'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, power.”

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;

Dl-fortune never 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 disdainful look behind; No towns; no fleets by sea, or troops by land; Things which offend when present, and affright, No deeply-entrench'd islands, can withstand, In memory well-painted move delight. Or any small resistance bring,

Enjoy then all thy afflictions nowAgainst the naked Truth and the unarmed king. Thy royal father's came at last;

Thy martyrdom's already past:
The foolish lights which travellers beguile

And different crowns to both ye owe.
End the same night when they begin ;
No art so far can upon Nature win

No gold did e'er the kingly temples bind,
As e'er to put out stars, or long keep meteors As a choice medal for Heaven's treasury,

Than thine more try'J and more refin'd, in. Where's now that ignus fatuus, which ere-while The image of his suffering humanity:

God did stamp first upon one side of thee
Misled our wandering isle?
Where's the impostor Cromwell gone?

On th' other side, turn'd now to sight, does shine 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 flarne

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

A picture of hervic 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 scat) '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 storms 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 does 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 gairi.

With no less time or labour can
Man ought his future happiness to fear,
If he be always happy here-

Destiny build up such a man,

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

His ruin'd 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.

So many and so violent blows,

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 wine all rooms, with wine the conduits, flow; 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 Stoic, sure, who would not now No show on Earth can sure so pleasant prove, Evin 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 melan-
So were they borne when Worcester's dismal day choly.
Did all the terrɔurs of black Fate display!

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

To take her mighty share
And one of th' angels whom just God did send

In this so ravishing sight, To guard him in his noble flight

And, with the part she takes, to add to the de (A troop of angels did him then attend !)

light ? Assurd me, in a vision th' other night,

Ah! why art thou not here,
That he (and who could better judge than he?) To see our joy, and with new joy be seen ;

Thou always best, and now the happiest queen! Did then more greatness in him see,

God has a bright example made of thee,
More lustre and more majesty,
Than all his coronation-pomp can show to human Above that sex which her superior seems,

To show that woman-kind may be

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

Of great affiction, great Felicity.
New marks of honour and of glory How well those different virtucs thce 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 bore gatory;

AMiction, that it dares return no more ; 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! No hair is sing'd, no smallest beauty blasted !

Who's that heroic person leads it on, Like painted lamps they shine unwasted!

And gives it, like a glorious bride, The greedy fire 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? The honourable flame

'Tis the good general, the man of praise. (Which rather light we ought to name)

Whom God at last, in gracious pity,

Did to th' enthralled nation raise,
Does like a glory compass them around,
And their whole body's crown'd.

Their great Zerubbabel to be ;
What are those two bright creatures which we see And to rebuild their temple and their city!

To loose the bonds of long captivity,
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, That more 'tis to restore, than to usurp a crown!

And to the world this princely truth has shown Will suffer no affliction to be there. 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) The fiery trials of adversity !

Did I not know my humble verse must be Two angels join with these, the other had but But ill-proportion’d to the height of thee,

Thou and the world should see

How much my Muse, the fie of flattery, Come furth, come forth, ye men of God beloy'a! Does make true praise her labour and design; And let the power now of that flame,

An Iliad 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, m'ghty 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 shame 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 statues 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' example be One Etna shooting flames into the sea :

Of truth, religion, reason, loyalty :


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