TO HIS Sacred Majesty.
DRead Sir, whilst in a pleasant Extasie
Your Sacred Majesty return'd we see,
We personate th' Old Mimique; with a Tear
One Cheek is washt, while Smiles the Other clear.
For our Rebellion, we repent with One,
'Gainst th Glorious Father, and the Pious Son;
The Other joys, nor is their reason small,
Who joy in Vision Beatifical.
Nay, we out-go the Mimique: from One Eye
There flows an Io and an Elegie,
Each Tear like to a Heat-drop falls to th'Earth;
The Moysture speaks our Grief; the Brightness, Mirth.
Whilst, fore You rise here, we did view your Beam,
(As Ida does the Sun, ere that his Team
Be harness'd) whilst great Waters did refract
Your Influence, and Britains Bliss protract;
Ev'n then at distance did Your powerful Rayes
Inflame our Hearts, make all with Joy to blaze;
So that th'whole Isle a Pharos was become,
Ambitious to light her Sov'raign home:
Thus we rejoycd in hopes of Your Return,
And for Your Absence did in th' Ashes mourn.
But being from Your Desart come, where You
With Patience Wandered, and did never Bow
To any Golden Calves, nor turn aside
To False Gods, but did still the Same abide;
Where You were fed, and Your small Royal Band,
If not with Angels Food, with Angels Hand;
You were in Pilgrimage too, Forty Years;
Thence come, and by Heav'ns Conduct having gain'd
This Promis'd, which You make the Holy Land,
VVe're at a loss, and with the Queen o'th'South,
VVe must confess, we heard not Half the Truth:
So great a Magazine of Vertues throng
Your Soul, that Praises charitably wrong.
VVhilst that Your solid Piety we view,
Your Generous and Extensive Charity too,
VVe finde that Title never was more true,
Kings are God's Image, then it is in You.
And as when Man ate the forbidden Fruit,
GOD set an Angel for to keep him out
Of Eden; so Your Majesty has done,
Setting a Flaming Proclamation
To keep back Vice from making its resort
Unto the Paradise of Your blest Court.
But Oh! our Narrow Souls can't comprehend
The Vast Perfections of Your Royal Minde;
So many Vig'rous Graces You express,
You overburden us with Happiness:
Thus Objects that more lightsome Rayes dispense,
Do Darken quite, and surfeit the weak sense.
Well, since we can't express, Admire Thee more
Then e'er we us'd to Praise Thee heretofore.
And onely adde, The Church that long time Groan'd,
Does now Triumph, that angry Heav'ns aton'd;
That she can see Your Majesty past Harms,
Return'd by Virtue of her Peaceful Arms;
Rejoycing that her Mourning-April-Showers
Have brought to these three Kingdoms such May-Flowers.
Tho. Edwards. A. M. Joan. Oxon.