Thofe are bold tales, in fabulous ages told ;
This glorious act the living do behold.
Upon her MAJESTY's Birth-day, after her happy Recovery from a dangerous Sickness.
AREWELL the year which threaten'd fo
The fairest light the world can show.
Welcome the new! whofe every day,
Reftoring what was snatch'd away
By pining fickness from the Fair,
That matchless beauty does repair;
So fast, that the approaching spring
(Which does to flowery meadows bring
What the rude winter from them tore)
Shall give her all she had before.
But we recover not fo faft
The sense of fuch a danger past ;
We, that esteem'd you fent from Heaven,
A pattern to this Island given;
To fhew us what the Blefs'd do there,
And what alive they practis'd here;
When that which we immortal thought,
We saw so near deftruction brought,
Felt all which you did then endure;
And tremble yet, as not secure.
So, though the fun victorious be,
And from a dark eclipse set free;
The influence, which we fondly fear,
Afflicts our thoughts the following year.
But, that which may relieve our care
Is, that you have a help fo near
For all the evil you can prove;
The kindness of your Royal Love.
He that was never known to mourn,
So many kingdoms from him torn,
His tears referv'd for you: more dear,
More priz'd than all these kingdoms were!
For, when no healing art prevail'd,
When cordials and elixirs fail'd,
On your pale cheek he dropt the shower,
Reviv'd you like a dying flower.
Sung by Mrs. KNIGHT to her MAJESTY, on her Birth-Day.
HIS happy day two lights are feen,
A glorious Saint, a matchlefs Queen:
Both nam'd alike, both crown'd appear,
The Saint above, th' Infanta here.
May all thofe years, which Catharine
The Martyr did for heaven refign,
Be added to the line
Of your bleft life among us here!
For all the pains that she did feel,
And all the torments of her wheel,
May you as many pleasures share !
May Heaven itself content
With Catharine the Saint!
Without appearing old,
An hundred times may you,
With eyes as bright as now,
This welcome day behold!
HAT revolutions in the world have been !`
How are we chang'd, fince we first saw the Queen!
She, like the Sun, does still the fame appear;
Bright as she was at her arrival here !
Time has commiffion mortals to impair,
But things cœleftial is obliged to fpare.
May every new year find her still the same,
In health and beauty, as the hither came !
When Lord's and Commons, with united voice,
Th' Infanta nam'd, approv'd the royal choice :
First of our Queens, whom not the King alone,
But the whole nation, lifted to the throne.
With like consent, and like desert, was crown'd The * glorious Prince, that does the Turk confound.. Victorious both! His conduct wins the day;
And her example chaces vice away.
Though louder fame attend the martial rage,
Tis greater glory to reform the age.
* John Sobieski, K. of Poland.
Commended by her MAJESTY.
ENUS her myrtle, Phoebus has his bays; Tea both excels, which the vouchfafes to praife. The beft of Queens, and beft of herbs, we owe To that bold nation which the way did show To the fair region, where the fun does rise ; Whofe rich productions we fo juftly prize. The Mufe's friend, Tea, does our fancy aid Reprefs thofe vapours which the head invade And keeps that palace of the foul ferene, Fit, on her Birth-day, to falute the Queen.
PROLOGUE for the Lady-Actors:
Spoken before K. CHARLES II.
MAZE us not with that majestic frown;
But lay afide the greatness of your crown!
And for that look, which does your people awe,
When in your throne and robes you give them law,
Lay it by here; and give a gentler finile!
Such as we fee great Jove's in picture, while
He liftens to Apollo's charming lyre,
Or judges of the fongs he does infpire.
Comedians on the Stage fhew all their skill,
And after do as love and fortune will:
We are lefs careful, hid in this difguife;
In our own cloaths more ferious, and more wife.
Modeft at home, upon the Stage more bold;
We feem warm lovers, though our breafts be cold;
A fault committed here deferves no fcorn,
If we act well the parts to which we 're born.
Of her Royal HIGHNESS, Mother to the Prince of ORANGE:
And of her Portrait written by the late Duchefs of YORK while fhe lived with her.
EROIC Nymph! in tempefts the support, In peace the glory, of the British Court! Into whofe arms, the Church, the State, and all That precious is, or facred here, did fall.
Ages to come, that shall your bounty hear,
Will think miftrefs of the Indies were:
Though ftreighter bounds your fortune did confine,
In your large heart was found a wealthy Mine:
Like the bleft oil, the widow's lasting feast,
Your treasure, as you pour'd it out, increas'd.
While fome your beauty, fome your bounty fing,
Your native Isle does with your praises ring :
But above all, a * Nymph of your own train,
Gives us your character in such a strain,
As none but she, who in that court did dwell,
Could know fuch worth; or worth describe fo well.
So, while we mortals here at heaven do guess,
And more our weakness than the place express;
Some angel, a domeftic there, comes down,
And tells the wonders he hath feen and known.
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