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2e His Sacred Majfsty, a Panegyrick on His Coronation, 1660.

By Mr. Diiyden.

IK that wild Deluge where the World was drown'd,
When Life and Sin one common Tomb had found,
The sirst small Prospect of a rising Hill
With various Nores of Joy the Ark did sill:
Yet when that Flood in its own depths was drewa'd,
It left behind it false and flipp'ry Ground;
And the more solemn Pomp was still deferr'd
Till new-born Nature in fresh Looks appear'd:
Thus (Royal Sit,) to fee you landed here
Was cause enough of Triumph for a Year:
Nor would your Care those glorious Joys repeat,
Till they at once might be secure and great:
Till your kind Beams by their conrinu'd flay
Had warm'd the Ground, and call'd the Damps away.
Such Vapours, while your pow'rful Influence dries,
Then soonest vanish when they highest Rise.
Had grearer haste these sacred Rights preptr'd,
Some guilty Months had in your Triumphs sl:a,'ds.
But this untainred Year is all your own.
Your Glory's may without our Crimes be shown.
We had not yet exhausted all our Store,
When you refresh'd our Joys by adding more:
AsHeav'n, of old, dispens'd Celestial Dew,
You give us Manna, and still give us new.

Now our fad Ruins are remov'd from sight,
The Season too comes fraught with new Delight;
Time seems not now beneath his Years to stoop,
Nor do his Wings with sickly Feathers droop:
Soft western Winds waft o'er the gaudy Spring,
And open'd Scenes of Flow'rs and Blossoms bring
To grace this happy Day, while you appeal
Not King of us alone but of the Year.

AU Eyes you draw, and with the Eyes the Heart,
Of your own Pomp, your self the greatest Part:
Loud Shouts the Nation's Happiness proclaim,
And Heav'n this Day is feasted with your Name.
Your Cavalcade the fait Spectators view,
From their high Standings, yet look up to you.
Prom your brave Train each singles out a Prey,
And longs to date a Conquest from your Day.
Now charg'd with Blessings while you seek repose,
Officious Slumbers haste your Eyes to close:
And glorious Dreams stand ready to restore
The pleasing Shapes of all you saw before.
Next, to the sacred Temple you are led,
Where waits a Crown for your more sacred Head:
How justly from the Church that Crown is due,
Preserv'd from Ruin and restor'd by you!
The grateful Quire their Harmony employ
Not to make grearer but more solemn Joy.
Wrapt soft and warm your Name is sent on high;,
A* Blames do on the Wings of Incense sty:
Muuck her self is lost, in vain the brings
Her choicest Notes to praise the best of Kings:
Her melting Strains in you a Tomb have found,
And lye like Bees in their own Sweetness drown'd.
He that brought Peace and Discord could atone,
His Name is Musick of it self alone.
Now while the sacred Oil anoints your Head,
And fragrant Scents, begun from you, are spread
Through the large Dome, the Peoples joyful Sound,
Sent back, is still preserv'd in hallow'd Ground:
Which in one Blessing mint descends on you,
As heightned Spirits fall in richer Dew. ,r» ,
Not that out Wishes do increase your Store,;
Cull of your self you can admit no more;
We add not to your Glory, but employ
Our time like Angels in expressing Joy.
Nor is it Duty or our Hopes alone
Create that Joy, but full i'rwtioa i

We know those Blessings which we must poflesi,
And judge of future by past Happiness:
No Promise can oblige a Prince so much
Still to be good, as long to have been such.
A noble Emulation heats your Breast,
And your own Fame now robs you of your Reft:
Good Actions still must be maintain* d with good,
As Bodies nourifh'd with resembling Food.
You have already quench'd seditions Brand;
And Zeil (which burnt it) only warms the Land.
The jealous Sects that dare not trust their Cause
So far from their own will as to the Laws,
You for their Umpire and their Synod take,
And their Appeal alone to c*sar make.
Kind Heav'n so rare a Temper did provide,
That Guilt lepesring might in it confide.
Among onr Crimes oblivion may be set,
But 'tis our King's Perfection to forget.
Virtues unknown to these rough Northern Climes
From milder Heav'ns you bring,without their Crimes:
Your Calmness does no after-Storms provide,
Nor seeming Patience mortal Anger hide.
When Empire first from Families did spring,
Then every Farher govern'd as a King;
But you that area Sovereign Prince, allay
Imperial Pow'r with your paternal Sway.
From those great Cares when ease your Soul unbends,
Your Pleasures are defign'd to noble Ends:
Born to command the Mistress of the Seas,
Tour Thoughts themselves in that blue Empire please.
Hither.in Summer Ev'nings you repair
To take the fraischeur of the purer Air:
Undaunted here you ride when Winter raves,
With Ctsat's Heart that rose above the Waves.
More I could sing, but Fear my Numbers stays;
No Loyal Subject dares that Courage praise.
In stately Frigats most delight you find,
Wheit well-drawn Battels fiie youi maaial Mind,

What to your Cares we owe, is learnt from hence,
When ev'n your Pleasures serve for our Defence.
Beyond yonr Court flows iu th' admitted Tide,
Where in new Depths the wond'ring Fifties glides.
Here in a Royal Bed the Waters sleep,
When tir'd at Sea within this Bay they creep.
Here the mistrustful Foul no harm suspects,
So safe are all things which our King protects.
From your lov'd Thames a Blessing yet is due,.
Second alone to that it brought in you;
A Queen, from whose chast Womb, ordain'd by Fatet
The Souls of Kings unborn for Bodies wait.
It was your Love before made Discord cease:
Your Love is destin'd to your Country's Peace.
Both Indies. (Rivals in your Bed) provide
With Gold or Jewels to adorn your Bride.
This to a mighty King presents rich Ore,
Wthle that with Incense does a God implore.
Two Kingdoms wait youi Doom, and as you chuse,
This must receive a Crown, or that must lose.
Thus frora-your Royal Oak, like Jove's of old,
Are answers sought, and destinies fore-told:
Propitious Oracles are begg'd with Vows,
And Crowns that grow upon the sacred Boughs.
Your Subjects, while you weigh the Nation's Fate,
Suspend to both their doubtful Love or Hate:
Chuse only,' (Sir,) rhat so they may possess
W iih their own Peace their Childrens Happiness,

To my Lord Chancellor, presented on New-Years-Day, i66z.

By Mr. Dryden.

My Loi^di

WHile flattering Crouds officiously appeal
To give themselves, not you, an happy Yestfjfc
And by the greatuess of their Presents prove
How much they hope, but not how well they love;
The Muses (who your early Courtship boast,
Though now your Flames are with their Beauty lost,)
Tet watch their rime, that if you have forgot,
They were your Mistresses, the World may not:
Decay'd by Time and Wars, they only prove
Their former Beauty by your former Love;
And now present, as ancient Ladies do,
That courred long, at length are forc'd to woee.
For still they look on you with such kind Eyes,
As those that see the Churches Sov'reign rife;
From their own Order chose, in whose high Stare,
They think themselves the second Choice of Fare.
When our great Monarch into Exile went,
Wit and Religion sufser'd Banishment r
Thus once when Troy was wrapt in Fire and Smoak,
The helpless Gods their burning Shrines forsook i
They with the vanquisht Prince and Party go,
And leave their Temples empty ro the Foe:
At length the Muses stand, restor'd again
To that great Charge which Nature drd ordain;
And their lov'd Druids seem reviv'd by Fare,
While you dispense the Laws and guide the Stare.
The Narions Soul (our Monarch) does dispense,
Through you, to us his vital Influence;
You are the Chanel where those Spirits flow,
And work them higher as to us they go.

In open prospect nothing bounds our Eye,
Vnrilthe Earth seems join'd unto the Sky:
So in this Hemisphere our utmost view
Is only bounded by our King and you:
Our sight is limired where you are join'd,
And beyond that no farther Heav'n can sind.
So well your Virtues do with his agree,
That though your Orbes of different Greatuess be>
Yet both are sol each others use dispos'd,
taj to ,nclose, and yours to be inclos'd.

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