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She spoke; the God of Love aloud
This good omen thus from heaven
Like a happy fignal given,
Their loves and lives (all four) embrace,
And hand in hand run all the race.
The whole world's imperial throne
If the Gods would please to be
To reward her, if it be fhe-
With fuch a husband, fuch a wife;
UPON HIS MAJESTY'S RESTORATION AND
"Quod optanti divûm promittere nemo "Auderet, volvenda dies, en, attulit ultro." VIRG.
OW bleffings on you all, ye peaceful stars,
Your univerfal gentle influence
To calm the stormy world and still the
Nor, whilft around the continent
The world apart, o'er which do reign
No star amongst ye all did, I believe,
Such vigorous affistance give,
The ftar 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 blefling.
No lefs effects than these we may
Be affur'd of from that powerful ray, Which could out-face the fun, and overcome the day.
Aufpicious ftar! again arise,
And take thy noon-tide station in the skies,
And all that's in them, all, does fmile and does rejoice. "Twas 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 bleffed pair behold, Which the abused people fondly fold
For the bright fruit of the forbidden tree,
By feeking all like Gods to be?
Will Peace her halcyon neft venture to build
And truft that fea, where fhe can hardly fay
She 'as known these twenty years one calmy day ?.
Ah mild and gallefs dove,
Which doft the pure and candid dwellings love,
Can't thou in Albion ftill delight?
Still canft thou think it white?
Will ever fair Religion appear
In these deformed ruins? will fhe clear
Will Juftice hazard to be seen
Where a High Court of Justice e'er has been ?
And Bradshaw's bloody ghost, affright her there,
may Whitehall for Charles's feat be fit, If Juftice fhall endure at Westminster to fit.
Of all, methinks, we leaft fhould fee
That name of Cromwell, which does freshly still
Left, that great ferpent, which was all a tail
(And in his poisonous folds whole nations prifoners made)
Should a third time perhaps prevail
To join again, and with worse fting arise,
Your fears are caufelefs all, and vain,
Defender of the faith, but of you all.
Along with you plenty and riches
With a full tide to every port they flow,
With a warm fruitful wind o'er all the country blow. Honour does as ye march her trumpet found,
The Arts encompass you around, And, against all alarms of Fear, Safety itself brings up the rear; And, in the head of this angelic band, Lo! how the goodly Prince at laft does stand (O righteous God!) on his own happy land : 'Tis happy now, which could with fo much ease Recover from fo defperate a disease;
A various complicated ill,
Whofe every symptom was enough to kill i
'Tis happy, which no bleeding does endure,
Or that which, if from Heaven it came,