St. Georges DAY Sacred to the CORONATION OF HIS MOST EXCELLENT MAJESTY CHARLES the II. By the Grace of God King of England, Scotland, France and Ireland, Defender of the Faith, &c.
Caesaris alma Dies! & Luce sacratior illâ,
Conscia, Dyctaeum, quâ, tulit Ida Jovem!
Omnes cum Jove, nunc sumus Beati:
At nupèr pudet, ah! pudet fateri
Omnes, cum Jove, Pauperes eramus. Mart.
— Quod optanti, Divûm promittere nemo
Auderet, volvenda Dies en! attulit ultrò. Virg.
By Hen. Bold olim è N. C. OXON.
LONDON Printed for R. Crofts at the Crown in Chancery-lane, 1661.
— Non Displicuisse meretur
Festinat, Caesar, qui Placuisse Tibi.
St. Georges Day Sacred to the CORONATION Of his Most EXCELLENT MAJESTY CHARLES the II. By the Grace of God, KING of England, Scotland, France and Ireland, Defender of the Faith, &c.
TRiumphs! and Halelujahs! let us Sing!
Hallowing the Day to our three-kingdom'd King!
Thus Upper-Jove (once) when secur'd, and free,
From Heaven assayling-Gigantomachie,
Conven'd the gods, at his Commanding Call,
Like Charles and's Peers, at George's-Festivall.
'Twixt Those, and These, there is but one Remove:
— Non erit uncia tota
Decîdat Tecū quâ Pater ipse Deûm,
Lieutenants here, to the Supreme above.
St. George for England! Andrew! Dennis! They
Are, but as Vigils, to our Holy-Day.
A Roman-Triumph is, Compar'd to This,
A Whitson-Ale: A meer Parenthesis.
Scarce hath the lazy Sun his Circuit gone,
But!
Ad reducendum litat Ara Jovem.
Revolution! Revolution!Our King Proclam'd! Restor'd! and Crown'd! A Year
Like Plato's, sets us Even as we Were.
Blest be the Time! oh may it henceforth be,
Calendar'd Englands Year of Jubilee!
For ever Sacred, to the Crown of Charles,
And early Fame, oth' (Arch) Duke's Albemarles.
He that does claim, the Ends oth' Earth his Own,
May boast more Kingdomes, but not such a
The Kings of Spain not crown'd
Crown.A Crown which o're your fairer Temples, hurl'd,
As Drake did once, encircles all the World.
Thanks to th' Eternal Powers! Who preserv'd
For You, so Long, what You so Soon deserv'd.
Shame on the Vile-Usurpers! what their Source
Of Violence Sway'd, Your Patience wonne per-force.
When, they were dy'd in grain, with Royal Blood,
And nothing Was, but as They made it Good.
When Hell had so enhanc'd Rebellion,
To Kill the Heir and take Possession.
(Oh 'tis Forgiven! May it be Forgot!
He came to 's Own, and they receiv'd Him not.)
When we oth' Loyal, in Despair were hurld,
As if Your Kingdoms, were not of this World,
When Doubts and Horror, as at Day of Doom,
Had seiz'd us All, Then! lo! Your Kingdoms Come!
See! where He's
Clatiùs in toto nil videt orhe Dies.
Crown'd! A King of Kings! like Saul!As Proper too, it may be not so Tall
As Glorious, as the Sun, on Easter Day,
Yorke, like the Morning-Starre, does gild the Way.
Glocester's translated to another Sphere,
To Celebrate a Coronation,
— Paciunt ipsi nunc puto sacra Dei,
There.A sacred Treason to His Brother Prince!
Seizing His Birth-right, and Preheminence!
He took Possession first, receiv'd a Crown,
Not-like-to-fade, an Everlasting One.
As if the Grand Disposer, had assign'd,
Eternity to Heirs by Gavel-kinde.
But—
Maximilian.
He that Wisht Himself and Heir were gods,The next Son King of France, (as no great odds)
Had he but known, the Wealths your Nations bear,
T' had been his Wish, t' have Liv'd a Subject Here.
When the Great Lord of Light, with's fiery Horse,
Does, Gyant-like, rejoyce to run his Course.
The Beasaunts of the Skye, are Sabled quite,
Suffering Eclipse, from such redundant Light.
But Charles his Starry-Peers, about Him Shone,
As if They meant, to rival with the Sun.
(Yet had an Eagle-Eye been Scrutinous,
Sol in's full-Glory, was less Glorious.)
Oh may Those Planets, that so Stately move,
Ith' Lower-Orb, be lately fixt above!
Th' Exalted Heads, oth' Higher minded-Crew,
Had they their Lights agen, to take a View,
Of this fair Prospect, where Divinity,
Is so well temper'd, with Humanity.
Graces, and Vertues thron'd alike in You:
'Twould e'ne Convince them, Their Conceits were True.
— Infernis Ditis ab umbris,
Si Cato reddatur Caesarianus erit.
Had they kenn'd Likenesse, th' ad ne're grudg'd You room,
On Earth, as His Vice-Gerent till He Come.
Their King, and Our's, are Name sakes: for- 'Tis true.
Y' have been our Saviour, and Redeemer too.
Safety was, erst, ill-sorted with Committee,
And
Sub Quo Libertas Principe tanta fuit!
Liberty, with Keepers, (more's the Pitty!)You are Annointed too, and so was Christ,
And to the King, must be annex'd the Priest,
And Prophet too, for, till You came, the Elves,
Priscis servatur honor,
Te Praeside, Templis.
Did serve God, Worser, then they serv'd Themselves.
He that refus'd the Hoast, because it came,
As Christ did once, into Hierusalem)
Upon an Asse, had he seen What ours do,
He had Receiv'd it and been Thankfull too.
The Devil's a Saint! Both Prester-John and Joan,
Handle the Word, without a Mitten on.
Works are Apocripha'd, as little worth,
Every She-Hinter, would be holding forth,
The Surplice, Table, Railes, are rayl'd upon
As the Appurtenance of Babylon.
But You
Debantur quae sunt, quaeque fucre Tibi.
Undiffering Sect, and Protestant,The Church will cease, from being Militant.
Here Lord encrease our Faith! for he that tells
Your Worth, and Gests, must needs write Miracles.
At fatal Worcester, when Your Arms were grown
Weary'd and faint with Execution,
By Multitudes oppress'd, which still pursue,
(Though utter Ruine could not injure You.)
Quis neget Curam esse Te Deorum?
Propter quem fuit innocens Ruina?
Just as the Soul is from the Body flown,
Unseen, You scape their Inquisition;
Like Bird from Snare: But — like You there was None:
'Twas like Your Self: Without Comparison.
Te protexit Superûm Pater & Tibi Caesar,
Pro jaculo, & parmâ fulmen & aegis erat.
Wonders are not yet ceas'd: here's Divine Care!
Kings have their
Sospite Quo, Magnos credimus esse Deos.
Angels truly-Tutelar.But! hast! my Muse, unto the Muses King,
Posse Deum paritèr Rebus, Musisque vacare
Scimus —
And low, present Him, with this
Offendunt nur quam Thura, Preces (que) Deum.
Offering!Know! and advance Your
Quae nondum Data sunt Stulte Negata putas?
Friends! Your Foes keep down!And may no Argyle-Hand come near Your Crown!
And when the Princes of the World, shall dare,
In an ambitious-strife, to Cull the Rare
Accomplisht Lady, of such eminent Worth,
— Tecum sociales impleat annos
Quae nisi Te, nullo Conjuge digna fuit.
As Romance never feign'd, nor Age brought forth,
To serve You as a QUEEN; oh! may She prove
One, that shall still atchieve Your Princely Love!
Let the continuing-pleasures of the Bedd,
Be iterations of a Maydenhead!
And as in years, so in Affection grow,
That when Shee's Old, You may not Think her so!
Illa Marito
Tunc quoque cùm fuerit, non videatur Anus.
Peace be for ever here! no Disputes rise
But which awes Most, Your Armies, or her Eyes.
May from Your Royal Loynes an
Cui Pater aeternas post saecula tradat habenas
Issue come,To Govern all the Tribes of Christendom!
And let that Race supply this Scepter's sway,
While Stars shall rule the Night, or Sun the Day:
May all Your Sons be like You in th' Extreme!
And ('tis presum'd) None ere shall be Like Them.
Else we despair when Fate shall lead You home,
Of One, like You, lest
Tu si properas Juppiter ipse veni.
Jove Himself should Come.Go late to Heaven! (though too soon I fear
Pro meritis caelum tantis Auguste dederunt
Alcidae Citò Di sed Tibi serò dabunt.
They'l spoyl us Here, to be enriched There)
Where (Course being finisht) take (as St. Paul hath)
A Crown of Glory! — You have kept the Faith.
This Dayes Commemoration still remain!
But — May I never see the Like again.
HEN. BOLD olim è N. C. OXON.
Haec, si Displicui, fuerint solatia nobis.
Haec fuerint Nobis Praemia, si Placui:
Mart.
FINIS.