ODE UPON HIS MAJESTY'S RESTORATION AND RETURN. "-Quod optanti divûm promittere nemo NOW blessings on you all, ye peaceful stars, VIRG. To calm the stormy world, and still the rage of wars! Nor, whilst around the continent Plenipotentiary beams ye sent, Did your pacifick lights disdain In their large treaty to contain The world apart, o'er which do reign Your seven fair brethren of great Charles's-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 foreshow. 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. No less effects than these we may Be assur'd of from that powerful ray, Which could outface the sun, and overcome the day. Auspicious star! again arise, And take thy noon-tide station in the skies, } 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. 'T was 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 behold, Which the abused people fondly sold For the bright fruit of the forbidden tree, Will Peace her halcyon nest venture to build And trust that sea, where she can hardly say Which dost the pure and candid dwellings love, Still canst thou think it white? Will ever fair Religion appear In these deformed ruins? will she clear Where a High Court of Justice e'er has been? And Bradshaw's bloody ghost, affright her there, Then may Whitehall for Charles's seat be fit, Of all, methinks, we least should see The cheerful looks again of Liberty. That name of Cromwell, which does freshly still Is still enough to make her stay, Lest that great serpent, which was all a tail Should a third time perhaps prevail To join again, and with worse sting arise, And dread your perish'd enemies no more. Whilst you return in Charles's train; Defender of the faith, but of you all. Along with you plenty and riches go, With a warm fruitful wind o'er all the country Honour does as ye march her trumpet sound, The Arts encompass you around, And, in the head of this angelick band, A various complicated ill, Whose every symptom was enough to kill; 'Tis happy, which no bleeding does endure, } Or that which, if from Heaven it came, It did but well deserve, all into bonfire turn. We fear'd (and almost touch'd the black degree That the three dreadful angels we, Of famine, sword, and plague, should here establish'd see (God's great triumvirate of desolation !) We fear'd that the Fanatick war, Which men against God's houses did declare, We read th' instructive histories which tell } "His blood be upon ours and on our children's head!" We know, though there a greater blood was spilt, 'T was 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 |