AN ELEGY UPON THE LATE BLESSED MONARCH King CHARLES II. AND TWO PANEGYRICKS UPON THEIR Present Sacred MAJESTIES, King JAMES AND Queen MARY.
Written by Mr. Durfey.
LONDON: Printed for Io. Hindmarsh, at the Black Bull in Cornhill. MDCLXXXV.
AN ELEGY On the Late Great and Godlike Monarch King CHARLES II.
I.
CAn Grief be by no sadder signs Express'd
Than flowing Eyes, deep Sighs, or throbbing Breasts?
Will Nature no Convulsions give to prove
Our Loyal Sorrow, and our dutious Love?
Ah! Can such trifling Fortune be our part
When deadly pangs can break a Royal heart?
Nay, then it needs must be;
Then, then I plainly see,
Fate mocks us with the fall of Sacred Majesty.
II.
Proud Rebel Fate, that shew'st thy haughty sway
On Kings, as if they were but Common Clay;
Thou Lawless Thief, t [...]t Rob'st the Land of more
Than Heaven, without a Wonder, can restore;
Why couldst thou not content thy self with me,
And Thousands more to glut thy Cruelty,
That should unpitied fall?
Was this Revenge too small?
Ah Tyrant, at one stroke thou hast unsoul'd us all!
III.
Now all the Groaning Land with Ghosts is stor'd,
Sickly and pale we mourn for our dear Lord;
Weak bodies droop about of no esteem,
Our Souls are buried in the Vault with him;
Him, who our Substance and our Being was,
Who, like the Sun, gave Light to every place;
His Goodness every where,
And Fame spread far and near;
And still the more you heard, the more you wish'd to hear.
IV.
True Wit unwasted still did in him Reign,
Often he spoke, but never spoke in vain;
His Charming Tongue inspir'd the wondring Ear,
And Oracles ne'r ceas'd whilst he was here;
Such sweetness still his sacred Genius crown'd,
That we both Pleasure and Instruction found:
Ah, now my Eyes run o'r,
I melt into a shower,
To think so Just, so Gracious, and so Good, alas! must be no m [...]
V.
But why no more? His Fame can never die,
That will be endless as Eternity,
Beyond the Sun in the third Heaven appear,
Where now he sits the brightest Angel there;
The Hierarchy with Reverence bow down
To a glory that so far Excels their own;
And every Cherub sings
The Deeds, and wondrous things
Of Charles, the best of Saints in Heaven, on Earth the best of Kings.
VI.
Near the bright Persons of the Trinity
He does His Mighty Predecessors see,
Great Tudor with Majestick Glory Crown'd,
And IAMES, and sacred CHARLES encompass him around:
Whilst thus the blessed Martyr Greets his Son;
First-born of all my Joys, that long hast run
Life's tedious Rugged Race
In that Ingrateful Place;
Ah welcome, welcome, now to thy Eternal Throne.
VII.
A Throne where now he sits Exalted high,
Scorning the dross of base Mortality;
Rapt in Seraphick thought, his Soul's employ'd
To reap fierce Pleasure ne'r before enjoy'd.
Oh glorious Spirit, what sublimity
In Heaven or Earth can ever equal thee?
What Art now wilt thou use,
Ah poor Enervate Muse,
T' express our Grief, and count the Treasure that we lose.
VIII.
Methinks the very Seasons all should mourn,
Their Ornaments, like us, to Sables turn;
Spring should lay by her gay and blooming Suits,
And Summer scorch with Dog-days all her Fruits;
But Winter should its Cloudy sway maintain,
Chill'd with cold sighing Winds, and weeping Rain,
As Tribute duly paid
To the sad gloomy Shade,
The Consecrated Vault where that Great Man was laid.
IX.
Yet see the Sun in splendid glory shines,
The Sky's serene, and Balmy gentle Winds
Dance round the mourning Globe, as if they knew
Our Griefs unreasonable, or untrue;
The Plants bud forth, and fragrant Roses grow;
Has Nature then no sympathy in woe?
Ah yes; but this is sign,
Though Mortal Powers combine,
Earth has alas no force to change Decrees Divine.
X.
Since then what's lost can ne'r return agen,
Adieu thou best of Masters, best of Men;
Thy Glory did so near Perfection come,
God would no longer let thee stay from Home;
Or wast thy time in a Rebellious Land,
When Worlds of Angels sue for thy Command.
To thy dear Brother we
Now bow the humble Knee,
And bless the mighty King of Kings that he is part of thee.
TO THE KING, A PANEGYRICK.
FRom Gloomy Clouds the dreadful Rain did pour,
United Streams made the vast Torrent roar,
Thus God for Sin once punish'd Man before.
But long the Sacred Vengeance did not last,
The Bow was fix'd to shew the Storm was past,
And after to the World a Saviour given
To purge our Crimes and teach the way to Heaven;
So when the Joy and Genius of mankind,
Great Godlike CHARLES his precious Soul resign'd,
Heaven to dry up the Deluge of our Woe
Gave us a Second Saviour, Sir, in You;
In whom Your Royal Father's Vertues move,
And Brother's Candour, Clemency and Love;
Thus whilst our Loyal Breasts a Tribute pay▪
And mourn for him, Your Blest Indulgent Sway
Creates new hopes, our Grief to Joy converts,
You stop our gushing Eyes and heal our bleeding Hearts.
Within Your Soul all Blooming Vertues spring,
That Bless a Nation or should Grace a King,
And timely through Your fertile Kingdoms shoot,
Whilst Your glad Subjects reap the welcome fruit:
The Grateful Treasure fills your bounteous heart,
'Tis all in all, and all in every part.
[Page 10]Your former Valour in Your Realms Defence,
Shews us what England owes to such a Prince;
Whose Early Will did to our safety tend,
And knows both how to govern, and defend.
A Churlish race that once Your Cause betraid,
So vast their Debt is, and so little paid:
Methinks I see the Imperial Banner spread,
And English Troops to Fame and Conquest led;
Whilst the Collossus that did once appear,
Striding the narrow Seas with one Foot here,
Shrinks back in hast, nor dares he further come,
Lest to his shame he should go halting home.
Prophetick Spirits had the Bards of old,
That the events of Times to come foretold,
Victorious Henry their Presagings tri'd,
And France felt then first punishment for Pride.
But, Sir, Your Glory none pretends t' inspire,
What soars above the Skies, need mount no higher:
Brave is Your Soul and Glorious each Design,
'Tis Sin to pry too far in Mysteries Divine;
Your Justice England ought to know and fear,
A Royal Justice generously severe;
Your Mercy even out-does Example past,
Who was more wrong'd? yet who forgave so fast?
Not gracious Charles himself more tenderness Exprest.
And who such awful Justice does Retain,
And knows to pity well, knows how to Reign.
From every part the conscious Converts come,
Converts, I hope, but will not swear for some,
And stew their doubtful Faces in the Room.
[Page 11]With eager hast Your Royal Hand they seize,
Fall at Your Feet, and thump their tardy Knees:
Whilst You, like David, the Penitents restore,
Forgive their faults, and bid 'em Sin no more.
So have I seen the late dread Caesar oft,
When diseas'd Wretches were before him brought,
Noisome Infection running through their Veins,
Plagu'd with their Sores and Crippled with their pains:
Sit amongst Men like a descended God,
With graceful patience dealing health abroad,
This patience Nobly does Your Breast controul,
A mighty Vertue in a mighty Soul;
No pangs of thought, nor Ruffling Storms appear,
But Sacred Conscience is in quiet there:
More joy'd by far to call that Seat her own,
Than You were to possess Your Brother's Throne.
But who alas! has Genius, Skill or Wit,
To paint Perfection where all Graces meet:
In vain we have the mighty Task begun,
No mortal Eye can look into the Sun,
And that Ambitious Pen that truly writes,
Your towring Fame, must use these Epithites;
Prudent as Solomon, fortunate as Saul,
Temperate as Scipio, brave as Haniball,
And not one Vertue must be touch'd, but all.
Glory like Yours no middle Course can steer,
Sublimest heighths it reaches every where:
Nor stops it, but goes forward, and to show
My Soul did to Your Sacred Vertues bow,
Even in the worst of times as well as now.
[Page 12]And Injur'd Poem must not be forgot,
Where in the heart and bowels of the Plot,
With Justice thus Your Character I wrote.
Character:
Bravest in Danger, valiant but not Rash,
Vid. Progress of Honesty. Stanza 9.
For when the Belgian Streamers brav'd the British Cross,
Then on the bloudy Deck he seem'd to grow,
Whilst Fate affrighted aim'd the Shot too low;
Aw'd with the terrour of his dauntless Brow:
A Loyal Prince, and Wise, secure of Fate,
In Honour nice, in every Action great;
Not fond of Sway, but if by right his own,
Equal with Life he weighs a Throne.
His haughty Soul nere understood,
To Humour the Mechanick Brood:
The People like rough waters are to him,
On which he swims against the stream:
Nor fears the Danger of the wildest Storm,
His Courage still contemns the harm.
In his Opinion firm, but not precise,
Admires the Counsel of the Wise;
But cares not to be Catechiz'd,
Or new untrodden paths be shewn,
As if a way to Heaven he had not known;
Or that his Soul were not his own.
His Conscience will be guided by his Sense,
Not by the Vulgars Impudence;
So Roman Heroes rather chose to die
By their own noble Hands, than by an Enemy.
T. Durfey
TO HER Most Sacred MAJESTY THE QUEEN.
A PANEGYRICK.
SO the glad Iews rejoyc'd when they had seen
The news confirm'd that Hester should be Queen▪
And from the Treasure of her Graces knew
Their Life, their Law, their Liberty, they drew,
The same transporting Joy have we for You.
Illustrious Princess! in whose Face and Mind
We the true Model of Perfection find;
And Heavens Decree writ in the book of Fate,
That the most Fair should live to be most Great;
Yet is th' addition small, for you have been
From Childhood of all sacred Vertues, Queen.
And wore th' eternal Wreath with as serene a Brow,
As the bright Gem of Englands glory now.
Now Goddess Fame, in Noise and Clamours nurst,
Sound a Triumphant tune, sound till thou burst:
And let repeating Ecchoes reach the Poles,
Inform all Eyes and influence all Souls:
Two onely perfect Glories can be seen,
The Sun in Heaven above, on Earth below the Queen.
[Page 14]Your bright Renown was o're the World dispers'd,
When that fair Garden of the Universe,
Gave up a Flower that charm'd all humane Sense,
To flourish by our Monarch's Influence;
Ambassadours were tir'd and coming home,
Beauty was scarce throughout all Christendom:
At least such Beauty proper for the Choice
Of Englands hope, her Treasure and her Joys:
Till like the Queen of Love by Graces drest,
Or Cinthia 'mongst the Stars, You with the rest
Appear'd at Court, blest and admir'd by all,
Nor needed any for new Judgment call,
Paris knew quickly where to give the Ball.
Exact Perfection both in Shape and Face,
An Artless Beauty, and a lovely Grace;
A Stature Sovereign, and a charming Meen
Heaven onely fram'd to personate a Queen.
So when the murmuring Israelites to bring
Their fewds to happy end, requir'd a King;
And scorch'd with factious Fires, were gather'd all,
To judg the Prophets Skill, Majestick Saul
Appear'd above, and with a Kingly frown
Shew'd the Eternal form'd him for the Crown.
The sweetness of Your influencing Eye,
Allays the Awfulness of Majesty:
And when with tremblings we approach Your sight,
And touch Your Sacred Hand with Reverence and delight;
The Transport even would kill in the Extream
Did not Your midness dart a gentle Beam.
[Page 15]Disarm Your Eyes, and our just fears controul,
Afresh inspire and new create the Soul.
So the Angelick Messengers of old,
That to Mankind Eternal Mandates told:
Grac'd with a charming Pity did appear
And bid the trembling Prophet not to fear.
Unequall'd Beauty we admir'd before,
But such a Sacred temper must adore;
As choicest Blessings Heavens does Queens bestow,
But does not always give us Angels too;
Man then would grow prophane, and often dare
Forget to whom he should address his Pray'r.
Ah! mighty Princess, in this Sphere You move,
Your Wit Adorers gets, Your Beauty, Love;
Ambition naturally Men pursue,
And glorious is his Fate that dies for You;
Hearts are Your Province, and what Soul is he
That at Your Footstool bent his willing Knee,
And gain'd a charming Smile, but soon confess'd,
'Twas with true Love and duty he address'd?
The Boy grows rude, when he has leave to play,
But Reverence clips his Wings, and gives allay:
So a poor sleeping Youth that dreams he sees
A Virgin-Beauty, Natures Master-piece;
Naked as Innocence had ever been,
E're the dear lovely Sex knew how to Sin;
His heart begins to throb, his bloud flows high,
And eagerly he snatches at the Joy;
Until at last the Shape more bright appears,
Her eyes Dart fire, and glittering Wings she wears;
[Page 16]An Angel now she seems, whom streight he does adore,
And trembling, blames his sawcy Love before.
Such Influence remains in You intire,
You can controul the Flame Your Eyes inspire;
And for our comfort may the Sun and they,
To equal Space extend their equal Sway:
Long may ye Health and happy Years possess,
And may a Prince of Wales Your Kingdoms bless:
Then Albion stands Commander of the Seas,
Let our proud Neighbours murmur as they please.
FINIS.