A PINDARICK ODE ON THE SACRED MEMORY Of Our late Gracious Sovereign King CHARLES II.

To which is added, Another ESSAY On the same Occasion, By Sir F. F. Knight of the Bath.

Dum juga montis Aper, fluvios dum Piscis amabit,
Dumque thymo pascentur Apes dum rore Cicadae,
Semper Honos Nomenque tuum Laudesque manebunt.
Virg.

LONDON, Printed by I. Playford, for Henry Playford, near the Temple-Church: 1685.

A Pindarick ODE.

STANZA I.
AS distant Thunder in a rowling Cloud,
First murmurs inwardly, then roars aloud,
O're the amaz'd and listning Croud,
'Till the dread Clap frights ev'ry mortal Ear,
Too weak Heav'ns angry Voice to bear;
Such was the sad distracting News
Which February's fatal Ides did bring,
The dang'rous sickness of our best-lov'd KING,
That pierc'd the Soul and did the Mind amaze:
Trembling with painful Doubt we wait
To know what the next Messenger will say,
And all the while we weep, and all the while we Pray;
When suddenly Deaths Herald spoke the dreadful Fate,
(Alas! the miserable Day!)
The News too sad to hear, too Killing to Repeat!
II.
Horror and Cryes fill all around,
Distracted looks, and Throbbing hearts,
In ev'ry dismal place are found;
As if 'twere the last Trumpet's sound:
And hideous Groans do Eccho from all parts.
Frighted with what I saw and heard;
But ah, much more with what I fear'd:
The blasted City soon I left;
And, as of Reason quite bereft,
I wildly roam'd about to seek some place
Less Dolefull than the City was;
Where without Partners, without lookers on,
I might enjoy my grief alone,
And for a little space
Might lay the weighty Burden of my Sorrows down.
III.
And long I had not rov'd about,
E're an approv'd Retirement I found out;
Ruins, that to Religion Sacred were of Yore;
Nor now less venerable than heretofore:
Where all things did my Melancholy fancy please;
Murmuring Waters, awfull Cliffs and wither'd Trees:
Where cheerful Birds ne're Sing, nor e're blows gentle Breez:
Nor any Beast, nor humane Face,
Was to be seen upon the lonely place.
To this forlorn and uncouth Seat,
I, softly with my load of Grief, retreat:
Where ev'ry Rock and ev'ry Tree
Wou'd (I knew) condole with me;
Only stern Fate would unrelenting be.
Thus then with many a Tear and Groan
My Dead, my Sacred PRINCE I did bemoan.
IV.
CHARLES, the Merciful and Good!
CHARLES, the Flow'r of Princely Blood!
Of all we Earthly Gods do call,
CHARLES, the most Belov'd of all!
Our Hearts Delight, Ioy of our Eyes;
And whom not we alone did prize,
Through the whole Universe his Glory flies,
Ev'n Nations Strangers to our Faith and God,
Had heard his wondrous Fame,
Rever'd his awful Name,
And Eastern Princes Dazled with his bright Renown,
Which did so much Eclipse their own;
Sent their Ambassadors abroad
To Court the favour of this second SOLOMON;
Of him to learn the Royal Art
To Govern and secure their Peoples Heart,
While Christendom from ev'ry part
Did to his well known Iustice still appeal.
Whose Word and Wisdom ever turn'd the Scale.
V.
He that can tell the drops of Rain,
That in April's Month do fall,
(Or His sad Subjects Tears can count,
Which to a greater number mount;)
May reckon up his Glories, but not all,
(For that Essay would be in vain,)
Which did adorn his Life and Consecrate his Reign;
Great Lord of Wit, Patron of Arts he was,
Learnings strong Atlas, Poetry's best friend;
Crown'd with each Ray, and blest with ev'ry Grace,
That cou'd a Prince Adorn or recommend.
But if in ought he did himself excell,
'Twas in His boundless Clemency!
In which he seem'd Heav'ns Parallel;
Nay, His was of that vast extent,
That oft he Pardon'd the Impenitent.
VI.
But as Ten Thousand scatter'd Raies
By Art are made to center in one Glass;
So all the Tenderness and Love
Which in his heart did to His Subjects move,
First on his Royal Brother fell, and through him did pass.
Not fearing loss of Empire, or of Life ▪
When high Born IAMES was with his Foes at strife;
When Sawcy, Factious Senates menac'd high,
And blush'd not to decry
The Crown's Iust Heir and truest Friend to Monarchy;
Our KING close to his BROTHERS Inter'st stood,
And stemm'd the Impetuous Flood:
To the dire Project soon he put an end,
And shew'd himself not more a Monarch, than a Friend.
Friendship like this the World did never know,
Save what the King of Heav'n did show,
Who for our sakes, descending here below,
Ceas'd to be happy, that we might be so.
VII.
How dear to Heav'n its Champion was, our Prince,
(Who did so well defend the Crown
And Faith which he receiv'd from thence,
The Publick Weal peferring to his own,)
Let the long chain of Miracles convince,
Though Fiends and Fiend-like-men combin'd in one;
That destin'd, brought, and kept him on his Throne;
Witness that shining Herald, sent
To tell the World of his Illustrious Birth,
As if kind Heav'n had hereby meant
Another God is Born on Earth!
At Noon we saw the new Born Star
Shine on his Infant Brother here,
With a mild Aspect, yet so bright and clear,
As did outvie the Mid-day Sun,
As far as He Himself all other Kings has done.
VIII.
And when Rebellion black and dire
Had harrass'd long his God-like SIRE;
Whose Life it barbarously took away,
Of all things Great and Holy made a Prey;
And turn'd Three Kingdoms into one Aceldama:
Our late (ah wretched word!) our Heav'n-lov'd KING,
Kind Providence did wondrously convey,
And sheltred him beneath its Wing,
From all the ills which War and Chance,
And Treasons blacker than the Night;
Did long against his Sacred Life advance,
Witness his happy 'scape from Wor'ster's bloody Fight:
Where Hov'ring Angels with their mighty shield
Sav'd Him from all the Hazards of that dreadful Field;
And their important Charge, by ways unknown, convey'd,
And in a Neighb'ring friendly shade,
Where sturdy Oaks stretch'd out their Arms on high,
(Oh shame to Mans Barbarity!)
To shelter and receive distressed MAIESTY;
Witness O Boscobel, thy Monumental Tree.
IX.
From thence through Dangers numberless,
In mighty wants and deep distress
At home, abroad, by Land and Seas,
(As once his high fam'd Ancestor, the wandring Trojan Prince)
By many a wondrous Providence,
During his Nine years Exile hence,
Heav'n its regard of Him did evidence,
When the Almighty King, to show his care
Of such as his Vicegerents are;
When Humane Force could do no more, and when
Our dying Hopes cou'd ebb no lower;
Did by a Turn Miraculous restore
Our King to us, us to our King again.
To bring which blessed work to pass,
Neither Mans Pow'r nor Policy had place;
No Contract made, nor blows were given;
The astonish'd World saw 'twas the mighty work of Heav'n.
X.
A Prince so lov'd at home, and fear'd abroad;
Wise as an ANGEL, Generous as a GOD;
Though calmly setled on a lofty Throne,
Was not above the reach of Envious Lookers-on:
Which made him stand in need of Heav'ns high Patronage,
(And what he needed, still he had,)
To save his Crown and Person from the Rage
Of Men with too much Ease grown Mad.
Witness those Plots, the Factions fruitful Womb
So oft conceiv'd, though still in vain,
Against their Gracious Sovereign:
Where often the Discoverer
Play'd both the Fiend and Conjurer;
Which by Heav'ns care abortive still did come,
And added to the wonders of his Reign;
[...]aking his Throne as fix'd and Glorious as his Wain.
XI.
When lo! the Prince, who seem'd Heav'ns chief Delight,
It's Darling and its Favourite,
His Mid-day Glories all full blown,
How strangely are they wither'd! oh! how soon!
But what Heav'n rais'd, Heav'n only can lay down.
Low as Earth, this Fav'rite of the Most High is come;
And all his scatter'd Trophies serve but to adorn his Tomb.
But why no Prodigy at all?
No Beacon-Comet fir'd above?
No Monstrous Births, no storms, no Whale,
Or to presage Great CHARLES thy fall,
Or to attend thy Funeral?
Which Nature's Fright might shew, and Mankind's wonder move.
Why (since a wondrous Star Proclaim'd his Birth,)
Did not as wondrous an Eclipse foretell his leaving Earth?
Must God-like Kings like Puny Mortals dy?
Must CHARLES the most August
Be meanly crumbled like Plebeian dust?
Why deal'st thou with thy Anointed thus, O King of Princes! why?
XII.
But while thus ravingly I spoke,
With a strange Horror I was struck,
Which dimm'd my eyes, loosen'd my joynts, and chill'd my Blood;
Before me strait a visionary somewhat stood;
Whose Form I cou'd not well discern;
Perhaps the Genius of the place,
Or some such Airy Image 'twas;
Of Stature tall, clad in Blew Mists, his Visage stern
Which with an angry hollow Tone
Thus stopp'd me—
Shall mortal Wight dare to reprove,
Or Pry into Affairs above?
The Prince whose Death you so bemoan,
Was he not the Almighties Loan?
Who only has recall'd what was his own.
His awfull Meen and Heav'nly eyes,
Which made all Hearts his Votaries;
His Soul so soft, yet truly Great,
His Mind so clear, and so sedate,
Prov'd well his Extract from the Skies.
XIII.
With milder accent, and a gentler look,
The Phantôm (now less frightful) farther spoke.
Then if your much Lamented King
So Good and Amiable was,
Why would you have some dreadful thing
The Calmness of his Reign Deface?
Let Tyrants and Usurpers have
Sea-Monsters, and Rough Hurricanes,
Foretell their Death, and dig their Grave,
Such Prodigies suit well their Reigns;
Comets have still a noisy end,
But calmly does the Sun descend;
Or if you must have Prodigies,
Think of the Nations weeping eyes,
The truest and most moving Elegies:
In Halcyon-days your Dove-like Prince was Born,
Which did with him return;
His Realms five Lusters have Peace's white Livery worn;
Living, He Peace bestow'd on every side,
Kept all in Peace, and Peaceably He dy'd.
XIV.
It scarce had spoke; when lo! a sudden Thunder
(For such at first it did appear)
Shak'd the thin Shade a sunder;
Which strait dissolv'd into its Primitive Air.
From the cold Turf I quickly rais'd my head,
The City soon I reach'd help'd with the wings of fear;
But my old Grief and Fright soon chang'd into new wonder:
When what I took for Thunders noise,
A Second Peal inform'd me was the Cannon's Roring Voice;
Which led me to a Loyal Croud,
That with just Triumph did Proclaim
With joyful shouts, and Acclamations loud,
A New KINGS Title and Imperial Name.
Amaz'd at this so easie change, I said,
May this Prodigious shout strike all his Enemies dead;
Long, and as this day Peacefull, be his Reign,
And may his God-like Brother live in him again.
XV.
Poets, of Old, were Prophets deem'd,
And if they now were such esteem'd,
(And who knows but they may?)
If our predicting Rime;
May lucky Omens prove to after times;
And, that some good may be presag'd from Names;
Then would I boldly Say,
These Realms are doubly blest in that of IAMES.
Great Britain's Glory did Commence
When the First JAMES did to the whole give Law:
He Ioyn'd the Kingdoms, and deriv'd from thence
That long white Row of Peaceful years our happy Fathers saw.
The Second IAMES, by Heav'ns Decree,
Will the Great Healer of our Breaches be.
And as his Wisdom gives our Fears Relief,
So will his Mercy cure our Publick Grief;
Well-skill'd he is in all his Royal Grandsires Arts,
Who joyn'd both Crowns, as he will joyn all Hearts,
May Heav'n fulfill and own the Prophesy.
But Ireland, sure, above the rest
In that Auspicious Name is doubly blest:
For while the Royal IAMES the English Crown do's wear,
And ORMOND'S Noble IAMES remains His Viceroy there,
England and Ireland shall no more have cause for Grief or Fear.

UPON THE DEATH Of our most Excellent Sovereign King CHARLES, And the Happy Succession of His HEROICK BROTHER KING JAMES.

By Sir F. F. Kt of the Bath.
INdulgent Nature has so well design'd
The Shifting Scenes of Tragical Mankind,
That on the Confines of the Cloudiest Grief
Breaks out a Splendid Ioy, to give Relief;
Lest ev'ry Gust of Passion should o'return
Th' unsteady Vessels: thus we Laugh, and Mourn;
Our Charming'st Pleasures languish into Pains,
And Floods of Grief, voluptuous Weeping drains.
The Thrifty Gods sell their great Blessings dear;
And CHARLES must vanish to let IAMES appear:
Too Glorious Lights to shine in the same Sphere.
FINIS.

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