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<DATE>2008-09-06</DATE>
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<NAME>tcpstaff</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
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<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B080839.pdcc.</ITEM>
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<TEXT LANG="eng">
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<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB REF="1" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 14 -->
<HEAD>Englands Sorrow For the Death of his late Maje&s;ty King CHARLES the II. Of Ble&s;&s;ed Memory.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>UN&s;luce your Tears for Shame: what can you keep</L>
<L>Your Eyes within their Sockets, and not Weep?</L>
<L>Have we a Jewel lo&s;t, more worth by far</L>
<L>Than <HI>Affrica</HI> and both the <HI>Indies</HI> are?</L>
<L>And can you &s;top the Currant of your Tears,</L>
<L>And not Beflood your &s;elves o're Head and Ears?</L>
<L>O Fie! fall down before his holy Shrine,</L>
<L>And weep as fa&s;t as ever it did Raine,</L>
<L>Stamp, and with Tears inundate all your Cheeks,</L>
<L>And &s;plit his very <HI>Marble-&s;tone</HI> with Streeks;</L>
<L>For we have lo&s;t that lovely Silver Dove,</L>
<L>Which was a Pledge of God Almighty's Love:</L>
<L>'Tis Flown away; and left its Corporal Arke,</L>
<L>(Until the Re&s;urrection) in the Dark:</L>
<L>Our &s;plended <HI>Sun</HI> is Set, and gone away,</L>
<L>And ne'er will Ri&s;e again till Judgment Day:</L>
<L>The Meeke&s;t, Sweete&s;t, and the Be&s;t of Kings,</L>
<L>Is mounted on a pair of Angels Wings;</L>
<L>And by a Summon &s;ent from God) is gone</L>
<L>To &s;et upon the Everla&s;ting Throne:</L>
<L>O! that I might (if it but Lawful were)</L>
<L>Whi&s;per with Reverence at his Sacred Eare,</L>
<L>And ask if he in earne&s;t had his Breath</L>
<L>Stop'd by the Handkerchief of Sawcy Death;</L>
<L>I can't believe it was; &s;ure 'tis a Lye.</L>
<L>The Elect &s;hall only Changed be, not Die:</L>
<L>And he I'm confident was one of tho&s;e</L>
<L>Who being almo&s;t free from Sin was Cho&s;e:</L>
<L>And &s;o he did not Die as &s;ome Report,</L>
<L>But went a Live to the Coele&s;tial Court;</L>
<L>There to receive (&s;tead of a fading <HI>Crown</HI>)</L>
<L>One that I'm &s;ure will never Tumble Down.</L>
<L>Therefore (when we perpend his Happine&s;s,</L>
<L>If we do Mourn) we ought to Mourn the le&s;s:</L>
<L>For (tho fond Nature bids us Weep a while,</L>
<L>When we con&s;ider that) we ought to Smile.</L>
<L>Truly (to Mourn no more) I hold it Be&s;t;</L>
<L>Come draw his Curtains clo&s;e, and let him Re&s;t:</L>
<L>Tho he is gone, yet he has left ins &s;tead</L>
<L>The Brave&s;t Prince that ever wore a Head:</L>
<L>Long may he Live to wear the <HI>Crown</HI> and Flouri&s;h,</L>
<L>Till all his Enemies Fret, Pine and Peri&s;h.</L>
</LG>
<BYLINE>by <HI>J. Knap,</HI> Me. Dr.</BYLINE>
</DIV1>
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<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P><HI>LONDON,</HI> Printed by <GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="2 words"> at the Sign of the <GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="2 words"> in <HI>Thomas &s;treet,</HI> over again&s;t <HI>Baynards-Ca&s;tle.</HI> 1685.</P>
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