Panegyrick to the high and mightie monarch, Charles by the grace of God, King of Great Britaine, France, and Ireland, defender of the faith, &c. by Walter Forbes.

Panegyrick to the high and mightie monarch, Charles by the grace of God, King of Great Britaine, France, and Ireland, defender of the faith, &c. by Walter Forbes.

Table of contents

Title page

EPIGRAMME.

PANEGYRICK

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PANEGYRICK

ADmyred Phoenix, springing from those Syres,

Whose Soules the heav'n, whose merit Fame admyres,

Whose memorie is wrapped up in roles,

Keept by Eternitie above the Poles:

Thryse-blessed CHARLES, sprung from thy royall Syre

Great IAMES, whose Fame shall with this frame expyre:

And yet beginne a fresh for to bee sung,

By sacred Quires, in a celestiall toung;

O thou the Subject of this wel-borne thought!

Immortall King, hast neither said nor wrought

Any thing yet, which can detract Thy praise,

Since Thou'rt more old in vertues than in dayes:

Bred in the bed of honour, Thou art blest

With rare perfections, farre above the rest

Of Mortall kynde: for as Thy birth is great,

So is thy minde, too high a marke for hate:

Envy may spew her spight, yet cannot harme

The Man, whom all the hoast of Heav'n doth arme:

When bright Apollo circling in his Carre,

Doth drive away the day-denuncing Starre,

His pow'rfull rayes diffuse in mortall myndes

A sweete desire of day, which straight vnbindes

Sleep-fettered-fences, and his chearefull light

Doth waste all vapours closde in cloudie night:

So my deare Phoebus whilst Thy face doth shyne

Vpon this Land, which by discent is Thine

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From hundred and eight Kings, thy chearefull rayes,

Doe change my nights in Halcyonian dayes:

And straight dissolve these frightfull formes of woe,

Which did possesse my troubled thoughts agoe.

What sad affliction did my soule possesse,

When Ibers streames reflex'd thy glorious face;

My groanes are turn'd to greetings, and my wrongs

Are chang'd in hymnes and sweete Syrenean songs:

My spirit then, which for thy absence groan'd,

Rejoyceth now to see Thee heere enthron'd.

What greater joy can I conceive, than see

My native Prince, his native Throne supplie:

Thryse happie CHARLES with all those gifts enricht,

Which heavens allot to Mortals, I'me bewitcht

In admiration of these royall parts,

Which makes thee more then Monarch of Mens hearts,

My heart and hands, and all submitted heere,

Attest the Heav'ns that I accompt Thee deare,

And dearest deare of all this All: I place

My chiefest joyes in favour of thy face,

I doe not poynt my praises, nor this Land,

Although rich Nature with a liberall hand

Hath bravely deckt her with all kynde of things,

Which from her wombe for humane use foorth springs,

Both Pan and Pales, pleasures, Gemmes and Ore,

Which wretched worldlings for their god adore:

I, onely I, when all the World by Warre,

Was boylde in blood as red as Marses Starre,

Did safely sleepe, securd from forraine Armes,

And did disdaine Bellonas lowd alarmes:

The Gothes, the Danes, the Saxones heere did feele,

And Normanes fierce, the furie of my Steele:

Heere Caesar pitcht his tents, and prowdly thought

His Trophees o're our Tombes to Rome haue brought,

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But all in vaine, his conquering hand was stayed,

And by his troupes a wall-divyding layed

At Carons bankes, whose ruines yet may tell,

How farre in worth I did his force excell:

And as in Mars, so in Minervas field

For Armes and Artes I keepe rich Pallas shield,

Did not the Germans borrow light from mee,

And France, which all posteritie shall see

Ev'n to the fatall doome, when All's in fire,

Then shall the records of my worth expyre:

Thus Gratious CHARLES daigne with a loving eye,

The sweete desires of my pure heart to spy.

Looke with what loue and with what chearefull part,

I consecrate to Thee, a loyall heart,

My humbled knees loe! and my heav'd vp hands,

The sacred oath of loue from thee demands:

Thryse Glorious CHARLES, how amiable's thy face,

Whose loving lookes my clowds of care doe chase:

I reape more joy from this thy comming heere,

Then e're Penelope of Vlisses deare:

Who after thousand dangers did returne,

And cur'd those griefes, which did her bowels burne:

O Thou more worthie then Vlisses farre,

Honours bright Ray, Goodnesse, and Greatnesse, Starre,

Long did I wish to see thy sacred Face,

My Townes and Temples with thy presence grace:

Great Ioves Vice-gerent looke with kynd aspect

On my Emporium EDINBVRGH, direct

No oblique Rayes, accept in loue Her Showes,

Her Verdant Glorie which so brauely goes,

To doe Thee service, all her cost compense

With kind acceptance, with her faults dispense,

And if in Her omission shall bee found,

Let Her Endevours braue, Defects confound:

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If Iove who all the starrie Heavens doth guyde,

Delights sometimes at Creta to abyde,

As in the place, where first hee suck't th'aire.

And if Apollo, Delos doth repaire,

Leaving his Claros, Tenedos behind;

Thus since th'immortall gods haue such a mind

To Natiue soyle, it is no wonder then

Though Demi-gods bee mov'd, and earth-borne men

May still Great CHARLES thy Scotland Creta bee,

And Delos where thou may delight, to see

The Naides and the Mountaine Nymphes most faire,

With vnaccustomd clamours beat the Aire,

The Satyres dance, the Coribantean Priests

O're-joyde with joy to pulse their paunting briests:

O what great joy hath Thy deare presence brought,

Let all the Annalls through all age bee sought,

The like was never seene, the senselesse stones

Doe melt for joy, the Mountaines leap at once,

The winds are calmde, and Neptunes lowdest roare

Deavde with my shouts of joy is heard no more,

And when the Aire with thy great Name I wound,

The Mountaines answere, and the Rockes resound,

The Woods re-echo'd, and the Floods proclame,

Melodious murmures hearing of thy Name,

The Fishes, Fowles, and Beastes are struck with wonder,

Whilst to the clouds I tell my Ioyes in thunder.

Thou art my rich Palladium, while I keepe

My God and Thee, I may securely sleepe,

And feare no terrour nor disturbing foe,

Whilst I haue Thee, to ante-vert my woe,

GOD hath by nature wall'd me round about,

And given mee Neptune sentinell and scout,

Whose tossed Trident threatneth death to such

As dare in deepe disdaine my borders touch

[Page]

And if by Fates I bee enforc'd to warre,

And make my Lyons roare bee heard afarre

O may it bee for some such sacred cause!

As doth subsist with Heav'n and humane Lawes.

O! may it bee to vindicate the wrong

Of thy deare Sister, and her Children young

Whose matclesse Worth and vertues merite praise

From all which canset, sing, or sound sweet layes,

Till shee, (deare shee,) bee re-invest againe

With her owne Rights, possest with her demaine,

Till shee bee safely situat on her Rhyne,

(And as the Moone amongst the Starres doth shyne)

Till shee in greatnesse doe exceede all those,

Who to her glorie did their rage oppose,

Till that Sun-gazing Eagle bee forc'd to fall

Before her feete, and for her pardon call:

Let's beat Alarmes, and let our Trumpets sound,

Let Cornets shrill the yeelding aire now wound,

Let frightfull shouts of Souldiers pierce the skye,

And reach the convexe of Olympus high

Above the thundring cloudes, let noyses make,

The soaring Eagle for feare of CHARLES to shake.

Let Vienn's walls astonisht with our cry

Like stubble before the fire, fall downe and fly

Scattred with winds of his revenging wrath,

Who in his hand hath pow'r of life and death.

Let Rome with her seven hills bee shaken too

And at thy Name O CHARLES obedient bow,

(Heav'n grant I may victorious still returne,

Drunk with the blood of foes sleepe in the vrne

Of my Ancestors, whose Manes shall bee glad,

When it shall bee to future Ages said

That I in worth did so exceed them farre,

As doth the Sun in light each little Starre)

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O may thy Ensignes ever bee displayed!

O may my heart and hand bee nere dismayde

In thy defence, till all the World adore

Thy dreadfull Name from Vesper till Aurore.

Thine bee the Night and Day, may starres bright shine,

And Planets wander o're no Land but Thine,

And when by Death Thou shall shut up Thy dayes

Thy memorie shall still inherite praise,

And After-age shall Obeliskes vpreare,

In which thy Woorth and Vertues shall appeare,

High Phanes and Temples shall by Thy Name bee calld

And Thou amongst th'immortall Gods enstalld

Shall see the Offrings and the yearely Vowes,

Posteritie unto thy Fame allowes.

Religious rites and games for Thee erected,

Shall show on Earth how high Thou wast respected.

FINIS.

[Page]

§

§

[Page]

[Page]

PANEGYRICK TO THE HIGH AND MIGHTIE MONARCH, CHARLES By the grace of GOD, King of Great BRITAINE, FRANCE, and IRELAND, Defender of the Faith. &c.

By WALTER FORBES.

EDINBVRGH. Printed by Iohn Wreittoun. 1633.

EPIGRAMME.

[Page]

ILLustrious Top-bough of heroick Stemme,

Whose head is crownd with Glorie's Anademe,

My shallow Muse, not daring to draw neare

Bright Phoebus burning flammes in his Carreere:

Yet knowing surely that Apollo shines

Vpon the dung-hill, as on golden Mines.

And knowing this the bountie of best Kings,

To marke the giver, not the gifted things,

Doth boldly venture in this pompous throng

To greet thy Greatnesse with a Well-come song.

And with the Py doth Ave Caesar sing,

Whilst grauer witts doe greater offrings bring.

Information about this book

Title statement

Panegyrick to the high and mightie monarch, Charles by the grace of God, King of Great Britaine, France, and Ireland, defender of the faith, &c. by Walter Forbes.

Forbes, Walter, 17th century.

Edition statement

1633

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2007-10 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A01044

ID [STC]

STC 11151.5

ID [STC]

ESTC S123110

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

24478633

ID [OCLC]

ocm 24478633

ID [VID]

27719

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Early English books online.

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(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A01044)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 27719)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 1851:26)

Source

— Panegyrick to the high and mightie monarch, Charles by the grace of God, King of Great Britaine, France, and Ireland, defender of the faith, &c. by Walter Forbes., Forbes, Walter, 17th century..

Extent

[8] p.

Printed by Iohn Wreittoun,. Edinburgh :: 1633.. (Signatures: A⁴.) (Reproduction of original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery.)

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