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Whom would thy royal father fooner find,
In thy lov'd arms to his high lineage join'd,
Than him, whom fuch exalted virtues crown,
That he might think them copy'd from his own?
Who to the field equal defires did bring,
Love to his brother, fervice to his king.
Who Denmark's crown, and the anointed head,
Rescued at once, and back in triumph led,
Forcing his paffage through the flaughter'd Swede.
Such virtue him to thy great fire commends,
The best of princes, fubjects, brothers, friends!
The people's wonder, and the court's delight,
Lovely in peace, as dreadful in the fight!
What can fuch charms refift? The royal maid,
Loth to deny, is yet to grant afraid;

But love, ftill growing as her fears decay,
Confents at last, and gives her heart away.

Now with loud triumphs are the nuptials crown'd, And with glad shouts the streets and palace sound! Illuftrious pair! fee what a general joy

Does the whole land's united voice employ !
From you they omens take of happier years,
Recall loft hopes, and banish all their fears:
Let boding planets threaten from above,
And fullen Saturn join with angry Jove:
Your more aufpicious flames, that here unite,
Vanquish the malice of their mingled light!
Heaven of its bounties now fhall lavish grow,
And in full tides unenvy'd bleffings flow!


The shaken throne more furely fix'd shall stand,
And curs'd rebellion fly the happy land!

At your
Confufion turns to order, rage to peace!

bleft union civil difcords ceafe,

So, when at first in Chaos and old Night

Hot things with cold, and moift with dry did fight,
Love did the warring feeds to union bring,
And over all things stretch'd his peaceful wing,
The jarring elements no longer ftrove,

And a world started forth, the beauteous work of Love!





IF the indulgent Mufe (the only cure

For all the ills afflicted minds endure,
That fweetens forrow, and makes sadness please,
And heals the heart by telling its disease)
Vouchsafe her aid, we also will prefume

With humble verse t' approach the facred tomb;
There flowing ftreams of pious tears will shed,
Sweet incense burn, fresh flowers and odours spread,
Our laft fad offerings to the royal dead !

Dead is the king, who all our lives did bless!
Our strength in war, and our delight in peace!

Was ever prince like him to mortals given!

So much the joy of carth, and care of heaven?
Under the preffure of unequal fate,

Of fo erect a mind and foul fo great!
So full of meekness and so void of pride,
When borne aloft by Fortune's highest tide!
His kindly beams on the ungrateful foil
Of this rebellious, ftubborn, murmuring isle
Hatch'd plenty; eafe and riches did bestow,
And made the land with milk and honey flow!
Lefs bleft was Rome when mild Auguftus fway'd,
And the glad world for love, not fear, obey'd.
Mercy, like heaven's, his chief prerogative !
His joy to fave, and glory to forgive!

Who lives, but felt his influence, and did share
His boundless goodness and paternal care?
And, whilft with all th' endearing arts he strove
On every subject's heart to feal his love,

What breaft fo hard, what heart of human make,
But, foftening, did the kind impreffion take?
Belov'd and loving! with fuch virtues grac'd,
As might on common heads a crown have plac'd
How skill'd in all the mysteries of state!
How fitting to fuftain an empire's weight!
How quick to know! how ready to advise!
How timely to prevent! how more than fenates wife!
His words how charming, affable, and fweet!
How juft his cenfure! and how fharp his wit!
How did his charming converfation please
The bleft attenders on his hours of cafe;


When graciously he deign'd to condescend,

Pleas'd to exalt a subject to a friend!
To the most low how eafy of accefs!
Willing to hear, and longing to redress!
His mercy knew no bounds of time or place,
His reign was one continued act of grace!
Good Titus could, but Charles could never fay,
Of all his royal life, "he loft a day.”
Excellent prince! O once our joy and care,
Now our eternal grief and deep despair!
O father! or if aught than father's more,
How shall thy children their fad lofs deplore?
How grieve enough, when anxious thoughts recall
The mournful story of their fovereign's fall?
Oh! who that fcene of forrow can difplay;
When, waiting death, the fearless monarch lay!
Though great the pain and anguish that he bore,
His friends' and subjects' grief afflict him more!
Yet even that, and coming fate, he bears;
But finks and faints to fee a brother's tears!
The mighty grief, that fwell'd his royal breast,
Scarce reach'd by thought, can't be by words expreft!
Grief for himself! for grief for Charles is vain,
Who now begins a new triumphant reign,
Welcom'd by all kind spirits and saints above,

Who see themselves in him, and their own likeness love !.
What godlike virtues must that prince adorn,
Who can so please, while fuch a prince we mourn!
Who else, but that great He, who now commands
Th' united nation's voice, and hearts, and hands,


Could fo the love of a whole people gain,
After fo excellent a monarch's reign!
Mean Virtues after Tyrants may fucceed

And pleafe; but after Charles a James we need!
This, this is he, by whose high actions grac'd
The prefent age contends with all the past:
Him heaven a pattern did for heroes form,
Slow to advise, but eager to perform :
In council calm, fierce as a ftorm in fight!
Danger his fport, and labour his delight.
To him the fleet and camp, the fea and field,
Do equal harvefts of bright glory yield!
Who can forget, of royal blood how free,
He did affert the empire of the fea?
The Belgian fleet endeavour'd, but in vain,
The tempeft of his fury to sustain ;
Shatter'd and torn before his flag they fly
Like doves, that the exalted eagle spy
Ready to ftoop and feize them from on high.
He, Neptune-like (when from his watery bed.
Serene and calm he lifts his awful head,

And fmiles, and to his chariot gives the rein),
In triumph rides o'er the afferted main !

Rejoicing crowds attend him on the strand,
Loud as the sea, and numerous as the fand;
So joy the many but the wifer few

The godlike prince with filent wonder view:
A joy, too great to be by voice exprest,
Shines in each eye, and beats in every breast:



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