Are able to adorn so vast a wo:

Gladness in every face express'd,

O wond'rous changes of a fatal scene,
Still varying to the last!
Heaven, though its hard decree was past,
Seem'd pointing to a gracious turn again:
And death's uplifted arm arrested in its haste,
Heaven half repented of the doom,
And almost griev'd it had foreseen,

What by foresight it will'd eternally to come. Mercy above did hourly plead

For her resemblance here below; And mild forgiveness intercede

To stop the coming blow.

New miracles approach'd the etherial throne, Such as his wond'rous life had oft and lately known,

And urg'd that still they might be shown.

On earth his pious brother pray'd and vow'd,
Renouncing greatness at so dear a rate,
Himself defending what he could,

From all the glories of his future fate.
With him the innumerable crowd

Of armed prayers
[aloud;
Knock'd at the gates of heaven, and knock'd
The first well-meaning rude petitioners.
All for his life assail'd the throne, [their own.
All would have brib'd the skies by offering up
So great a throng not heaven itself could bar:
"T was almost borne by force, as in the giants'

war.

[heard;

The prayers, at least, for his reprieve were
His death, like Hezekiah's, was deferr'd:
Against the sun the shadow went;
Five days, those five degrees, were lent
To form our patience and prepare the event.
The second causes took the swift command,
The medicinal head, the ready hand,
All eager to perform their part;

All but eternal doom was conquer'd by their art:
Once more the fleeting soul came back
To inspire the mortal frame;
And in the body took a doubtful stand,

Doubtful and hovering like expiring flame, That mounts and falls by turns, and trembles o'er the brand.

IV.

The joyful short-liv'd news soon spread around, Took the same train, the same impetuous bound:

The drooping town in smiles again was dress'd,

Men met each other with erected look,
The steps were higher that they took, [haste;
Friends to congratulate their friends made
And long inveterate foes saluted as they pass'd:
Above the rest heroic James appear'd
Exalted more, because he more had fear'd!
His manly heart, whose noble pride
Was still above

Dissembled hate or varnish'd love,

Its more than common transport could not hide But like an eagre* rode in triumph o'er the

tide.

Thus, in alternate course,

The tyrant passions, hope and fear,
Did in extremes appear,

And flash'd upon the soul with equal force.
Thus, at half ebb, a rolling sea
Returns and wins upon the shore;
The wat'ry herd, affrighted at the roar,
Rest on their fins a while, and stay,
Then backward take their wond'ring way:
The prophet wonders more than they,
At prodigies but rarely seen before, [their sway
And cries, a king must fall, or kingdoms change
Such were our counter-tides at land, and so
Presaging of the fatal blow,

In their prodigious ebb and flow.
The royal soul, that, like the labouring moon,
By charms of art was hurried down,
Forc'd with regret to leave her native sphere
Came but a while on liking here:
Soon weary of the painful strife,
And made but faint essays of life.
An evening light
Soon shut in night;

A strong distemper, and a weak relief,
Short intervals of joy, and long returns of grief

The extremest ways they first ordain,
Prescribing such intolerable pain,
As none but Cæsar could sustain:

Undaunted Cæsar underwent

The malice of their art, nor bent

To whom both Heaven, The right had given,

[mand.

vent:

In five such days he suffer'd more

Than any suffer'd in his reign before;
More, infinitely more, than he,

Against the worst of rebels, could decree,
A traitor, or twice-pardon'd enemy.
Now art was tir'd without success,

No racks could make the stubborn malady confess.

The vain insurancers of life,

And he who most perform'd and promis'd less,
E'en short himself forsook the unequal strife.
Death and despair was in their looks,

No longer they consult their memories or books;
Like helpless friends, who view from shore
The labouring ship, and hear the tempest roar;
So stood they with their arms across;
Not to asist, but to deplore

The inevitable loss.

VI.

Death was denounc'd; that frightful sound Which e'en the best can hardly bear, He took the summons void of fear; And unconcern'dly cast his eyes around, As if to find and dare the grisly challenger. What death could do he lately tried, When in four days he more than died.

The same assurance all his words did grace; The same majestic mildness held its place; Nor lost the monarch in his dying face. Intrepid, pious, merciful, and brave,

He look'd as when he conquer'd and forgave.

VII.

As if some angel had been sent
To lengthen out his government,
And to foretell as many years again,

As he had number'd in his happy reign,
So cheerfully he took the doom

Of his departing breath;

Nor shrunk nor stept aside for death;
But with unalter'd pace kept on;
Providing for events to come,
When he resign'd the throne.
Still he maintain'd his kingly state;
And grew familiar with his fate.
Kind, good, and gracious, to the last,

On all he lov'd before his dying beams he cast:
O truly good, and truly great!

For glorious as he rose, benignly so he set.
All that on earth he held most dear,
He recommended to his care,

That hand on which no plighted vows wer

ever vain.

Well for so great a trust he chose

A prince who never disobey'd:

Not when the most severe commands were laiu
Nor want, nor exile with his duty weigh'd:
A prince on whom, if Heaven its eyes could close
The welfare of the world it safely might repos

VIII.

That king who liv'd to God's own heart,
Yet less serenely died than he :
Charles left behind no harsh decree
For schoolmen with laborious art
To salve from cruelty:

Those, for whom love could no excuses frams
He graciously forgot to name,

Thus far my muse, though rudely, has design's
Some faint resemblance of his godlike aad:
But neither pen nor pencil can expresa
The parting brothers' tenderness:
Though that's a term too mean and low;
The blest above a kinder word may know:
But what they did, and what they said,
The monarch who triumphant went,
The militant who staid,

[spent,

Like painters, when their height'ning arts are
I cast into a shade.

That all-forgiving king,
The type of him above,
That inexhausted spring
Of clemency and love;

Himself to his next self accus'd,

And ask'd that pardon which he ne'er refus'd:
For faults not his, for guilt and crimes

Of godless men, and of rebellious times:
For a hard exile, kindly meant,

When his ungrateful country sent
Their best Camillus into banishment:

And forc'd their sovereign's act, they could not

his consent.

Oh, how much rather had that injur'd chief
Repeated all his sufferings past!
Than hear a pardon begg'd at last,
Which given could give the dying no relief:
He bent, he sunk beneath his grief:
His dauntless heart would fain have held
From weeping, but his eyes rebell'd.
Perhaps the godlike hero in his breast
Disdain'd, or was asham'd, to show
So weak, so womanish a wo,
Which yet the brother and the friend so plen
teously confess'd.

Yet somewhat to their share he threw ;
Fed from his hand they sung and flew
Like birds of paradise that liv'd on morning
Oh, never let their lays his name forget! [dew.
The pension of a prince's praise is great.
Live, then, thou great encourager of arts,
Live ever in our thankful hearts;
Live blest above, almost invok'd below;
Live and receive this pious vow,
Our patron once, our guardian angel now.
Thou Fabius of a sinking state,

Who didst by wise delays divert our fate,
When faction like a tempest rose,
In death's most hideous form,
Then art to rage thou didst oppose,
To weather out the storm:

Not quitting thy supreme command,

Thou held'st the rudder with a steady hand,
Till safely on the shore the bark did land:
The bark that all our blessings brought,
Charg'd with thyself and James, a doubly royal
fraught.

XIV.

O frail estate of human things,
And slippery hopes below!

Now to our cost your emptiness we know,
For 't is a lesson dearly bought,
Assurance here is never to be sought.
The best, and best belov'd of kings,
And best deserving to be so,

When scarce he had escap'd the fatal blow
Offaction and conspiracy,

Death did his promis'd hopes destroy:
He toil'd, he gain'd, but liv'd not to enjoy.
What mists of Providence are these
Through which we cannot see!
So saints, by supernatural power set free,
Are left at last in martyrdom to die;
Such is the end of oft-repeated miracles.
Forgive me, Heaven, that impious thought,
'T was grief for Charles, to madness wrought,
That question'd thy supreme decree!
Thou didst his gracious reign prolong,
Even in thy saints and angels wrong,
His fellow-citizens of immortality:
For twelve long years of exile borne,
Twice twelve we number'd since his blest re-
So strictly wert thou just to pay,
E'en to the driblet of a day.
Yet still we murmur, and complain,
The quails and manna should no longer rain;
Those miracles 't was needless to renew; [view.
The chosen flock has now the promis'd land in

XV.

[turn:

A warlike prince ascends the regal state, A prince long exercis'd by fate: Long may he keep, though he obtains it late.

Heroes in Heaven's peculiar mould are cast, They and their poets are not form'd in haste, Man was the first in God's design, and man was made the last.

False heroes, made by flattery so,

Heaven can strike out, like sparkles, at a blow
But ere a prince is to perfection brought,
He costs Omnipotence a second thought.
With toil and sweat,

With hard'ning cold, and forming heat,
The Cyclops did their strokes repeat,
Before the impenetrable shield was wrought.
It looks as if the Maker would not own
The noble work for his,

Before 't was tried and found a masterpiece.

XVI.

View then a monarch ripen'd for a throne.
Alcides thus his race began,
O'er infancy he swiftly ran;

The future god at first was more than man:
Dangers and toils, and Juno's hate,
E'en o'er his cradle lay in wait;

And there he grappled first with fate:

In his young hands the hissing snakes he press'd,

So early was the deity confess'd;

Thus by degrees he rose to Jove's imperial seat. Thus difficulties prove a soul legitimately great. Like his, our hero's infancy was tried : Betimes the furies did their snakes provide; And to his infant arms oppose,

His father's rebels, and his brother's foes;
The more oppress'd the higher still he rose;
Those were the preludes of his fate,

That form'd his manhood, to subdue
The hydra of a many-headed hissing crew.

XVII.

As after Numa's peaceful reign,
The martial Ancus did the sceptre wield
Furbish'd the rusty sword again,
Resum'd the long-forgotten shield,
And led the Latins to the dusty field;
So James the drowsy genius wakes
Of Britain long entranc'd in charms,
T is rous'd and with a new-strung nerve, the
Restiff and slumbering on its arms:
spear already shakes.

No neighing of the warrior steeds,
No drum, or louder trumpet, needs
To inspire the coward, warm the cold,
Gaul and Batavia dread the impending blow;
His voice his sole appearance, makes them bold.
Too well the vigour of that arm they know ;
They lick the dust, and crouch beneath their

fa'al foe,

Long may they fear this awful prince, And not provoke his lingering sword;

At least the second page of strong contingency;
Such as consists with wills originally free:
Let them with glad amazement look
On what their happiness may be:
Let them not still be obstinately blind,
Still to divert the good thou hast design'd,
Or, with malignant penury,

To starve the royal virtues of his mind.
Faith is a Christian's and a subject's test,
Oh, give them to believe, and they are surely

blest.

They do; and with a distant view I see
The amended vows of English loyalty.
And all beyond that object, there appears
The long retinue of a prosperous reign,
A series of successful years,

In orderly array, a martial, manly train.
Behold e'en the remoter shores,
A conquering navy proudly spread;
The British cannon formidably roars,
While, starting from his oozy bed,

The asserted ocean rears his reverend head,
To view and recognize his ancient lord again:
And, with a willing hand, restores
The fasces of the main.

VERSES TO J. NORTHLEIGH.

TO MY FRIEN MR. J. NORTHLEIGH, AUTHOR OF THE PARALLEL, ON HIS TRIUMPH OF THE BRITISH MONARCHY. So Joseph, yet a youth, expounded well The boding dream, and did th' event foretell; Judged by the past, and drew the parallel. Thus early Solomon the truth explored, The right awarded, and the babe restored. Thus Daniel, ere to prophecy he grew, The perjured Presbyters did first subdue, And freed Susanna from the canting crew. Well may our monarchy triumphan stand, While warlike James protects both sea and

land;

THE PREFACE TO THE READER.

THE nation is in too high a ferment for me to expect either fair war, or even so much as fair quarter, from a reader of the opposite party. All men are engaged either on this side or that, and though conscience is the common word, which is given by both, yet if a writer fall among enemies, and cannot give the marks of their conscience, he is knocked down before the reasons of his own are heard. A preface, therefore, which is but a bespeaking of fayour, is altogether useless. What I desire the reader should know concerning me, he will find in the body of the poem, if he have but the patience to peruse it. Only this advertisement let him take beforehand, which relates to the merits of the cause. No gene

ral characters of parties (call them either sects or churches) can be so fully and exactly drawn, as to comprehend all the several members of them; at least all such as are received under that denomination. For example: there are some of the church by law established, who envy not liberty of conscience to Dissenters; as being well satisfied that, according to their own principles, they ought not to persecute them. Yet these, by reason of their fewness, I could not distinguish from the numbers of the rest, with whom they are imbodied in one common name. On the other side, there are many our sects, and more indeed than I coul reasonably have hoped, who have withdawn themselves from the communion of the Panther, and embraced this gracious indulgence of his majesty in point of toleration. But neither to the one nor the other of these is this satire any way intended: it is aimed only at the refractory and disobedient on either side. For those, who are come over to the royal party, are consequently supposed to be out of gun-shot. Our physicians have observ.

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