MEMENTO MORI.
AN ELEGY ON THE Death of His Sacred Majesty KING CHARLES the II. OF BLESSED MEMORY.
UNwelcome News! White-Hall it's Sable Wears,
And each Good Subject lies dissolv'd in Tears!
Justly indeed; for CHARLES is Dead the Great!
(Who can so much as such great Griefs repeat?)
King CHARLES the Good, in whom that Day there fell
More then one Tribe in this our Israel!
Ah! Cruel Death! we find thy Fatal Sting,
In Losing Him that was so Good a KING:
A KING so Wise, so Just, and H'had great part.
In SOLOMON'S Wisdom, and in DAVID'S Heart:
A KING! whose Vertues onely to Rehearse,
Rather requires a VOLUMN then a VERSE.
Sprung from the Loyns of Charles of Blessed Fame,
A Worthy SON of His Great FATHERS Name:
His Parents and His Grandsires Vertues, He,
As H'did their Crown, enjoy'd ex Traduce,
Of th' Best and Greatest of KINGS, the Epitome.
His Justice such, as none could Him Affright,
From doing t' all, to God and Subjects Right.
Punish He could, but like He'vens Majesty,
Would that a Traytor should Repent, not Dye.
His Prudence to the LAWS due Vigour gave,
He saved Others, and Himself did save.
His Valour and His Courage, VVrite who can?
B'ing a Good Souldier e're he was a Man:
VVrestling with Sorrows in a Land Unknown,
Whilst Herod did Ʋsurp His Royal Throne:
Banish'd His Native Country every Day,
Like Moses, at the Brink of Death He lay:
But that Storm's over, and Blest be that Hand
That gave Him Conduct to His Peaceful Land,
Where this Great KING the Gordion Knot Unties
Of Heavens, the Kingdoms, and His Enemies;
Not with the Sword, but with His Grace and Love,
Giving to those their Lives that for His strove.
Never did Person so much Mercy Breath,
Since our Blest Saviour's, and His Father's Death.
In fine, His Actions may our Pattern be,
His Godly Life, the Christian Diary.
But now He's Dead, alas! our David's gon,
And having Serv'd His Generation,
Is fall'n Asleep; That Glorious Star's no more,
That th' English Wisemen led unto the Shore
Of Peace, where Gospel-Truth's Profest,
Cherisht within our Pious Mothers Breast,
And with Protection of such KINGS still Blest:
Blest with His Piety, and the Nation too,
Happy in h's Reign, with Milk and Honey flew:
Yea, Blest so much with Peace and Natures store,
Heaven could scarce give, or We desire no more:
But yet, alas, He's Dead! Mourn England, Mourn,
And all your Scarlet into Sack-Cloth turn:
Let Dust and Ashes with your Tears Comply,
To Weep, not Sing, His Mournful Elegy:
And let your Love to Charles be shown hereby,
In rendring James your Prayers and Loyalty.
Long may Great JAMES these Kingdoms Scepter Sway,
And may His Subjects lovingly Obey;
Whilst with Joynt Consort, all agree to Sing,
Heaven Bless these Kingdoms, and God Save the KING.
Entred according to Order.
London, Printed by J. Millet, for W. Thackeray, at the sign of the Angel in Duck-Lane, MDCLXXXV.