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AREWEL, great Charles, monarch of blest renown,

FAREW

The best good man that ever fill'd a throne;
Whom Nature as her highest pattern wrought,
And mix'd both fexes virtues in one draught;
Wisdom for councils, bravery in war,
With all the mild good-nature of the fair.
The woman's fweetnefs, temper'd manly wit,
And loving power, did crown'd with meekness fit;

His awful perfon reverence engag'd,

With mild address and tenderness asswag'd :
Thus the almighty gracious King above,

Does both cominand our fear, and win our love.

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With wonders born, by miracles preferv'd,
A heavenly Hoft the infant's cradle ferv'd:
And men his healing empire's omen read,
When fun with ftars, 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 shame :
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 fhould 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 ftorms appeas'd,
Did greater bleffings, than he took, afford;
England itfelf was more, than he, reftor'd.
Unhappy Albion, by ftrange ills opprefs'd,
In various fevers toft, could find no rest ;
Quite fpent and weary'd, to his arms fhe fled,
And refted 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 cease,
Reftor'd to quiet, and maintain'd in peace.

A mighty

A mighty feries of new time began,

And rolling years in joyful circles ran.

Then wealth the city, business fill'd the port,
To mirth our tumults turn'd, our wars to sport:
Then learning flourish'd, blooming arts did spring,
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 mifchiefs 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 Eastern spice; fecure
From burning fluxes, and their calenture :
Under our vines, upon the peaceful shore,
We fee all Europe toaft, hear tempefts 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 goodness could disdain,
Unwillingly he us'd a ftraiter rein :

In the still gentle voice he lov'd to speak,

But could with thunder harden'd rebels break.

Yet

Yet though they wak'd the laws, his tender mind
Was undisturb'd, in wrath severely 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 loudeft storm:
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 assume :
For goodness in excess may be a fin,

Juftice muft tame, whom mercy cannot win.
Thus winter fixes the unstable sea,
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 easy methods, vanquish without force;
Relieve the good, bold ftubborn foes fubdue,
Mildness in wrath, meekness in anger fhew,
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;

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