And think all still the best that He will do.
That thought shall make, He will this loss

supply
With a long, large, and blessed posterity !
For God, whose essence is so infinite,
Cannot but heap that grace He will requite.

AN EPIGRAM TO OUR GREAT AND GOOD KING

CHARLES,
ON HIS ANNIVERSARY DAY. 1629.

Than now,

How happy were the subject if he knew,
Most pious king, but his own good in you!
How many times, Live long, Charles! would he

say,
If he but weighed the blessings of this day?
And as it turns our joyful year about,
For safety of such majesty cry out.
Indeed, when had Great Britain greater cause

to love the sovereign and the laws; When you that reign are her example grown, And what are bounds to her, you make your

own?
When your assiduous practice doth secure
That faith which she professeth to be pure ?
When all your life's a precedent of days,
And murmur cannot quarrel at your ways ?
How is she barren grown of love, or broke,
That nothing can her gratitude provoke!
() times ! O manners ! surfeit bred of ease,
The truly epidemical disease!

'Tis not alone the merchant, but the clown,
Is bankrupt turned ; the cassock, cloak, and

gown,
Are lost upon accompt, and none will know
How much to heaven for thee, great Charles,

they owe!

AN EPIGRAM ON THE PRINCE'S BIRTH.

1630. And art thou born, brave babe ? Blessed be thy

birth,
That so hath crowned our hopes, our spring, and

earth,
The bed of the chaste Lily and the Rose!
What month than May was fitter to disclose
This prince of flowers ? Soon shoot thou up,

and grow

The same that thou art promised; but be slow,
And long in changing. Let our nephews see
Thee quickly the garden's eye to be,
And there to stand so. Haste now, envious

moon,
And interpose thyself ('care not how soon),
And threat the great eclipse; two hours but

run, Sol will reshine; if not, Charles hath a son.101

“Non displicuisse meretur Festinat Cæsar qui placuisse tihi.”

101 The prince (Charles II.) was born this year, on the 29th of May, on which day there was an eclipse of the moon. G. AN EPIGRAM TO THE QUEEN, THEN LYING IN.

1630. Hail, Mary, full of grace! it once was said, And by an angel, to the blessed'st maid, The Mother of our Lord: why may not I, Without profaneness, yet a poet, cry Hail, Mary, full of honors ! to my queen, The mother of our prince ? When was there

seen, Except the joy that the first Mary brought, Whereby the safety of mankind was wrought, So general a gladness to an isle, To make the hearts of a whole nation smile, As in this prince? Let it be lawful so To compare small with great, as still we owe Glory to God. Then, Hail to Mary! spring Of so much safety to the realm and king! 102

AN ODE, OR SONG, BY ALL THE MUSES, IN CELEBRATION OF HER MAJESTY'S BIRTHDAY. 1630. 1 Clio. Up, public joy, remember

This sixteenth of November,

102 Althongh the character of this epigram might lead the realer to a different conclusion, Jonson had been “reconciled to the church" many years before it was written. Dryden alone has reached to the height of the impious parallel which runs through it, when, in the Britannia Redivira, he treats the birth of a prince as a miracle brought about by the direct agency of the angels, and compares the union of three realms in one under his sway to the Trinity, who had stamped their image upon him.- B.

Some brave uncommon way;
And though the parish steeple
Be silent to the people,

Ring thou it holy-day.

2 Mel. What though the thrifty Tower,
And guns

there spare to pour
Their noises forth in thunde::;
As fearful to awake
This city, or to shake

Their guarded gates asunder ?

3 Thal. Yet let our trumpets sou

sound;
And cleave both air and ground,

With beatings of our drums;
Let every lyre be strung,
Harp, lute, theorbo sprung,

With touch of dainty thumbs ! 103

4 Eut. That when the quire is full,

The harmony may pull

The angels from their spheres;
And each intelligence
May wish itself a sense,

Whilst it the ditty hears.

5 Terp. Behold the royal Mary,

The daughter of great Harry,

And sister to just Lewis !

Comes in the pomp and glory 103 Gifford reads " learned thumbs," adopted from another edition.

Of all her brother's story,

And of her father's prowess!

6 Erat. She shows so far above

The feignèd queen of love,

This sea-girt isle upon;
As here no Venus were,
But that she reigning here,

Had got the ceston on !

7 Call. See, see our active king

Hath taken twice the ring,

Upon his pointed lance : 104
Whilst all the ravished rout
Do mingle in a shout,

Hey! for the flower of France !

8 Ura. This day the court doth measure

Her joy in state and pleasure;

And with a reverend fear,
The revels and the play,
Sum up this crowned day,

Her two-and-twentieth year!

9 Poly. Sweet, happy Mary! all

The people her do call,

And this the womb divine !
So fruitful, and so fair,
Hath brought the land an heir,

And Charles a Caroline.

104 Alluding to the old chivalry joust of riding, or running at the ring. - B.