TO HIS Royal Highness THE PRINCE OF WALES, UPON His Illustrious Birth and Removal FROM St. Iames's to Richmond.
—Nobilitas sola est atque unica virtus.
Juv. Sat. 8.
Vade, vale: cave ne titubes, mandataque frangas.
Hor. Epist.
WHen God to Man does wish'd for Blessings send,
They heighten joy, and all our care unbend;
Each thing revives, as in the early spring,
When Flora's sweetness on the earth is green,
And blooming Beauty graces all the Plain,
Care of the Nymphs, because it kills the Swain:
Thus springs our Joy's increase, Blest Prince, from you,
Sweeter not Heav'n ere gave, nor Earth ere knew;
Great as the Blessing are our tributes due;
Hail! mighty Infant, born for to command
With equal Justice this thy Father's Land:
Thou mak'st the Crown sit easie on his head,
And fill'st with future hopes thy Mother's bed:
Bright as the Queen of Heaven's are her eyes,
Such are her Charms, they needs must bribe the Skies,
And James; whose Heart beneath her Sceptre lies:
Hail! happy Off-spring of so fair a Queen,
That nothing's wanting to compleat her mein,
Her Presence shew her to be all Divine.
If with Poetick Liberty I might
View the vast Regions of eternal Light,
Then shou'd I see stand by the Heav'nly Throne
The Greatest Charles, God's Martyr'd Holy one,
With Angels praising thy auspicious Birth,
Wonder of Heaven, and the Joy of Earth;
By God, and Angels thus belov'd above,
Surely thou must inferiour Passions move;
"For when in Heav'n the Holy Angels sing,
"Some list'ning Soul to Earth their Songs does bring,
Which fill our hearts with noblest harmony,
Such as does wait the Courts of Majesty;
Taught by the sacred Choire, thus we sing
Soft sleep to thee, and triumphs to our King.
Look, Royal Babe! if that thy tender sight
Permit thee to behold the piercing Light,
Which longs to warm, and kiss thy pliant Arms,
And fears to be out-done by half thy Charms;
Hark! how three Kingdoms sacrifice for Thee
Their choicest vows t' Eternal Majesty;
See with what earnest joy all things combine,
To Nurse thy Soul that's made to be divine;
"For Kings are Gods, and may for ought we know,
"Be somewhat more than Mortals here below.
Saint James's boasts thy Birth, thy God-like Face
With joy, and wonder fill'd the Royal Place;
Fraught with thy Vertues, dares it self compare
To the fam'd Windsor for its wholesom Air;
In vain it boasts, since Richmond does out-shine
All that is fair, and calls it self divine;
Thither the Goddess, and her Lovely Son
(Which has so long the amorous World o'ercome)
Repair, and see themselves in thee out-done.
The Winged Boy unbends his well-strung Bow,
Throws by his Darts, and break his Quiver too,
And owns no other God of Love, but You.
Heroick Youth! thou hast a Sceptre won
And in thy Cradle do'st exceed the Son
Of crafty Jove, which by Alcmene came,
And did the pois'nous Vipers bravely tame;
Safe in the Arms of glorious Richmond lie
There taught to live, thy Joys will never die;
Long may'st thou be the Object of all Love,
As dear to us as to the Saints above;
And when thy Father's Soul to Heaven's gone,
May Peace conduct thee to th' Imperial Throne.
LONDON, Printed for Randal Taylor near Stationers-Hall. 1688.