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With wonders born, by miracles preserv’d,
A heavenly Host the infant's cradle serv'd :
And men his healing empire?s omcn read,
When sun with stars, and day with night agreed,
His youth for valorous patience was renown'd;
Like David, persecuted 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 blest the isle where such great spirits dwell,
Abhorr'd the men, that could such worth expel.
To fpare our lives, he meekly did defeat
Those Sauls, whom wand'ring asses made so great ;
Waiting till heaven's election should be shown,
And the Almighty should his unction own.
And own he did his powerful arm display'd;
And Israel, the belov’d of God, obey'd ;
Call’d by his people's tears, he came, he eas'd
The groaning nation, the black storins appeas’d,
Did greater blessings, than he took, afford;
England itself was more, than he, restor'd.
Unhappy Albion, by strange ills oppress’d,
In various fevers tost, could find no rest ;
Quite spent and weary'd, to his arms she fled,
And rested on his shoulders her fair bending head,

In conquests mild, he came from exile kind;
No climes, no provocations, chang'd his mind;
No malice Thew'd, no hate, revenge, or pride,
But rul'd as meekly, as his father dy'd;
Eas'd us from endless wars, made discords cease,
Restor'd to quiet, and maintain’d in peace.

A mighty

A mighty series 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 fpring,
And the glad Muses prun'd their drooping wing:
Then did our fying 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;
To every coast with ready fails are hurld,
Fill us with wealth, and with our fame the world;
From whose distractions feas do us divide ;
Their riches here in Aoating castles ride.
We reap the swarthy Indian's fiveat and toil ;
Their fruit, without the mischiefs of their soil.
Here in cool shades their gold and pearls receive,
Free from the heat which does their lustre give.
In Persian filks, eat Eastern spice ; secure
From burning fluxes, and their calenture :
Under our vines, upon the peaceful shore,
We see all Europe toast, hear tempests roar :
Rapine, fiord, wars, and famine, rage abroad,
While Charles their hoft, like Jove from Ida, aw'd ;
Us from our foes, and from ourselves did shield,
Our towns from tumults, and from arms the field ;.
For when bold Faction goodness could disdain,
Unwillingly he us'd a straiter rein :
In the still gentle voice he lov'd to speak,
But could with thunder harden'd rebels brcak.


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Yet though they wak'd the laws, his tender mind
Was undisturb’d, in wrath severely kind;
Tempting his power, and urging to assume ;
Thus Jove in love did Semele consume.
As the stout oak, when round his trunk the vine
Does in soft wreaths and amorous foldings twine,
Easy and flight appears ; the winds from far
Summon their noisy forces to the war:
But though so gentle seems his outward form.,
His hidden strench out-braves the loudest storm :
Firmer he stands, and boldly keeps the field,
Shewing stout minds, when unprovok'd, are mild.
So when the good man made the crowd presume,
He lhew'd himself, and did the king assume :
For goodness in excess may be a sin,
Justice must tame, whom mercy cannot win.
Thus winter fixes the unstable fea,
And teaches restless water constancy,
Which under the warm influence of bright days,
The fickle motion of each blast obeys.
To bridle factions, stop rebellion's course,
By easy methods, vanquish without force;
Relieve the good, bold stubborn foes subdue,
Mildness in wrath, meekness in anger shew,
Were arts great Charles's prudence only knew.
To fright the bad, thus awful thunder rolls,
While the bright bow fecures the faithful souls.

Such is thy glory, Charles, thy lasting name,
Brighter than our proud neighbour's guilty fame;


More noble than the spoils that battles yield,
Or all the empty triumphs of the field.
'Tis less to conquer, than to make war cease,
And without fighting, awe the world to peace :
For proudeft triumphs from contempt arise ;
The vanquish'd first the conqueror's arms despise :
Won ensigns are the gaudy marks of scorn,
They brave the victor first, and then adorn.
But peaceful monarchs reign like gods : while none
Dispute, all love, bless, reverence their throne.
Tigers and bears, with all the savage hoft,
May boldness, strength, and daring conquest boast;
But the sweet passions of a generous

Are the prerogative of human-kind;
The god-like image, on our clay impreft,
The darling attribute which heaven loves best:
In Charles fo good a man and king, we see
A double image of the deity.
Oh! had he more resembled it! Oh, why
Was he not still more like, and could not die?
Now do our thoughts alone enjoy his name,
And faint ideas of our blessing frame !
In Thames, the Ocean's darling, England's pride,
The pleasing emblem of his reign does glide :
Thames the support and glory of our ille,
Richer than Tagus, or Æg

tian Nile: Though no rich fand in him, no pearls are found, Yet fields rejoice, his meadows laugh around; Less wealth his bosorn holds, less guilty stores, For he exhausts himself, t'enrich the fores.


Mild and serene the peaceful current flows,

angry foam, no raging surges knows ;
No dreadful wrecks upon his banks appear,
His crystal stream unstain’d by widows tear,
His channel strong and easy, deep and clear.
No arbitrary inundations sweep
The plowman's hopes, and life into the deep;
His even waters the old limits keep.
But oh! he ebbs, the smiling waves decay,
For ever, lovely stream, for ever stay!
To the black sea his filent course does bend,
Where the best streams, the longest rivers, end.
His spotless waves there undistinguish'd pass,
None fee, how clear, how bounteous, sweet, he was.
No difference now, though late so much, is seen,
'Twixt him, fierce Rhine, and the impetuous Seine."

But lo! the joyful tide our hopes restores, And dancing waves extend the widening lhores. James is our Charles in all things but in name : Thus Thames is daily lost, yet still the same,

ODE on the Marriage of the Princess ANNE

and Prince GEORGE of DENMARK,

WHILST black designs (that direful work of Fate)

Distract the labouring state;
Whilft (like the sca) around loud discords roar,
Breaking their fury on the frighted fhore;

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