A POEM To His most Excellent Majesty Charles the Second.

Ego Beneficio tuo (Caesar) quos ante Audie­bam hodiè vidi Deos: Nec feliciorem ul­lum vitae meae aut Optavi, aut sensi Diem. Paterc', &c.

By H. BEESTON Winton'. Together with another By HEN. BOLD olim Winton'.


LONDON: Printed by Edward Husbands, and Thomas Newcomb, Printers to the Commons House of Parliament, 1660.

[emblems of England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland]
THe Business on Our Language is too great:
Our Mother Tongue stutters be­neath the weight
Of Soveraignty: To speak You, she must ligue
With all the Neighbor Nations, and beg
Their Dialects which Your Majesty can frame
Slaves to Your Ʋse, as them unto Your Fame:
So that Your Praise is Yours; You must allow
Matter, and Form: Theme, and Expression too.
ON which side shall we trace Your Stock? beyond
The Loyns of Egbert, or of Pharamond:
Low sunk in Adam's Entrails it is found,
And thence shoots throw the World, to You, all crown'd.
Vain Boldness of the Age, (Age of Deceits)
Knew this, and therefore coyn'd Prae-Adamites!
This Blood (then) issuing from that distant source,
Exalted, Maturated in its course,
In Veins of sundry Monarchs Rectifid,
(Made All Elixir) through Your Heart does glide.
[Page 4] (Not Wine All, nor All Milk, but) mingled so,
That Courage thence, and Innocence do flow,
To animate th' exactest Fabrick, Heaven
Has, since its Mould, to wondring mankinde given.
And seeing Beauties chiefest part does lie
In Shapes and Lines (not fading Colours) I
(Too low to praise, too true to flatter) dare
Aver this truth, That You are CHARLES the Fair.
Such Grace in Your Heroick Meen we spie,
Where, all the strokes are sharp, and masterly.
Be You then CHARLES the Fair, and Great, and Good,
Your Sire bought CHARLES the Martyr with His Blood.
—Stay forward Nymph of Helicon!
And with thine un-dy'd Buskins, go not on!
Thou'lt weep thine Eyes out, into sorrows hurl'd,
And I shall lead thee blinde about the World.
(Thus) Rich Your Blood is, and Your Make is Free,
Compleatest Product of the Noblest Tree,
Shrining a Soul (to favor our weak sight)
Pure, Active, Subtile, as a Beam of Light.
And here we're lost, 'less some Intelligence
Be setled 'twixt Divinity and Sence.
My Quil's no Jacobs Staff, or if it were,
It could not take Your Height, nor reach Your Sphere.
Your Minde's a Constellation fixt above
The Orbes, where Kepler, and where Tycho rove.
Your Intellectual, and Your Moral Parts
(Vast Comprehensions of Arms and Arts)
Are for Your Peoples Veneration fit:
Fit for Your Wonder, not so for their Wit.
Courage inhabits there so quick and clear,
It warm'd an Army (once) from Van to Rear;
(Cold as the North that form'd it, bleak and thin,
Cover'd and lin'd with nought, but fear and sin)
And made it stand—The brave Gustavus so
Oppos'd his naked Fins to th' armed foe,
And shew'd the World, His gallant Brest alone
Was Currace, Gauntlet, Gorget, Morion.
But had You Conquer'd, You had been subdu'd,
Lost Your peculiar part of Fortitude,
Your Patience; which You may singly own,
Since none (but You) suffer'd into a Throne.
This was Your way; old Heroes cannot share,
E'en let them pass for Barreters in War.
The Wisdom and Experience of Your Soul
Is such, as no Disaster could controul.
The Flitting French, and the Ʋnable Dane,
The Trade-led Dutch, Remote Iberian,
Nor Honest German did Your Cause restore;
You knew their strength, and knew Your own was more.
Firm as a Tabled Diamond and square,
'Gainst coldness, force, or treachery You are.
Of Dubious Friends You scan'd the various Clues,
What meant Your Courtships, Treaties, Enterviews?
Of open Enemies You skill'd th' Intents,
The Causes, Counsels, Progresses, Events:
No Prince so intimately vers'd has been
In the Resorts of Business, and of Men.
You are Your Self a Senate, Diet, One,
A single Council, Parliament alone.
[Page 6] In You, so justly constituted, we
Safely enchace our Jewel Liberty,
Handed before to many a Roytelet,
Sometimes in Steel, sometimes in Lead twas set.
The dusky Intricks of Your Enemies
May be suppos'd: All Cunnings, Not one wise.
Each of our Rulers had more Worms in's Head,
Then a Male Deer before he's Cabossed.
So all their Projects brake, not any held,
One by another out-Achitophel'd.
The several Fore-parts through the Hedge make way,
Behinde the Hated Tayl is forc'd to stay,
Till Hedge and Tayl the Bonfire overtakes;
(The Fore-parts will be seen on Poles and Stakes.)
They think the Vessel of the Nation will
Sayl tight, if cun'd by Confidence, not skill:
Boldness is Gospel, Law, and Policy,
Joynture, Debt, Interest, and Legacy.
The Frontless Swine with Impudence so tan'd,
Were (in the Face) high Car'bin-proof at hand.
I purpose not to violate this Page
With the unhallowed Monsters of this Age,
Whose due Description should I dare to write,
My Paper would appear a Sanbenite.
The Guards of Heaven, Your subjects care and love,
Such Objects from Your Royal Eyes remove!
Not from Your Word—
—As th' Ocean does move
About Your Land, so let Your Peace above:
[Page 7] And by Your Mighty Pardon let us guess,
How Good th' Almighty is—for him You bless.
A readier step to Him, may through You shine,
Then any in the Scale of Bellarmine.
These Beasts a Grateful Sacrifice can't be,
They come to th' Altar so unwillingly.
Let the Grand Seignior in peeces rive;
Let the Defender of the Faith forgive.
Reward them with the Christians Amends,
Make those that pierc't Your Bowels through, Your Friends.
So when the Greedy Operator sounds
The Wealthy Entrails of unsearched Grounds,
The powerful Mine will change into it's self
(In time) the very Tools that digg'd the Pelf.
Your Fathers Lovers, and Your own so cross'd,
Committee-scourg'd, Rump-rid, and Safety-toss'd,
Tempted, or scar'd by Force, or by Consent,
Part one, part t'other, scarce are Innocent.
The Nation's Criminal! Almost each one
Lep'rous by Nature or Contagion:
Yet now are cleansed by the tears they shed,
(Tears due to CHARLES his Crown recovered.)
Shed Tears; which like Oyl-Bennet, did increase
The Flames of that Triumphant Night of peace:
Night! that turn'd out the Day! The Welkin shone;
Lighted with thousand fires besides it's own:
And where's the Roman, or the Greek Parade,
Can march with Glorious Tuesdays Cavalcade?
—Day of Your Birth and State! from every Eye
Strictures of unsuborned Joy did flie.
[Page 8] Poets (but Male factors until now)
Resume their wit and spirit under You;
Soaring about Your Throne with freer Wing,
Working themselves in Your Palace, will sing
Such Prophecies, shall make wise Annalists
Attent to heed, and Register Your Gests;
Which, will the Orbe in servitude engage
Rapt and Enamour'd of its Vassalage.
Bold with Allegiance, and with Duty rude,
With these brisk happy thoughts, we may conclude,
Sit still and taste the Blessings of Your Reign:
Ʋnited so as not to start again.
Our Hearts directed unto You our North,
Shall never vary from our Faith. Henceforth
The Volatil spirits of this Region
Shall here be fixt beyond Reduction.
So the keen winde (as Muscovites relate)
Quick with Refining Force does operate
And make a Gem, which can't Apostatize
From solid Chrystal, into Brittle Ice.

To His Sacred Majesty Charles the Second, at His happy RETURN.

SO comes the Sun after a half-years night,
To the be-numb'd, and frozen Musco­vite,
As we (Great Britain's Influence!) wel­come You
Who are our Light, our Life, and Glory too.
Your Presence is so Soveraign, counter Fate,
It makes, alone, our Island Fortunate:
Whilst we (like Eastern Priests) the night being done,
Fall down, and Worship You, our Rising Sun.
As Devotes (of old) did use to stay
Below the Font, nor durst approach to lay
Their Duties on the Sacred Shrine, so I
(Not qualifi'd for the solemnity
Of Offering at Your Altar) stand at door,
And wish as much as they, who give you more.
May You live long and happy, to improve
In Strangers, Envy; in Your Subjects, Love!
And marry'd may Your Computation run
Even, as Time; for every year a Son!
Until Your Royal Off-spring grow to be
The Hope, and Pride of all Posterity!
May every Joy, and every choice Content,
Be trebled on You! and what e'er was meant
My Soveraign's care and trouble, may it prove
Quiet, and Calm, as are th' Effects of Love!
Last, having liv'd a Patern of such worth,
As never any Age did yet bring forth,
Ascend to Heaven; where th' Eternal Throne
Crowns You with Grace, shall Grace You with a Crown.
HEN. BOLD olim Winton.

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