<!DOCTYPE ETS PUBLIC "-//UMDLPS//DTD EEBOPROOF 2.0//EN">
<ETS>
<TEMPHEAD>
<REVDESCR>
<CHANGE>
<DATE>2008-12-03</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>tcpstaff</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
</RESPSTMT>
<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B081019.pdcc.</ITEM>
</CHANGE>
</REVDESCR>
</TEMPHEAD>
<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B04283">
<STC T="W">L37</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99886877</BIBNO>
<VID>181382</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB REF="1" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 9 -->
<HEAD>A POEM ROYAL TO THE Sacred Maie&s;ty of CHARLES the II. King of Great Britain. AND THE Illu&s;trious Donna CATHARINA His Incomparable CONSORT.</HEAD>
<BYLINE><HI>By J. L.</HI> <ABBR>E&s;q</ABBR></BYLINE>
<LG>
<L>_COnfu&s;ion, with grey Winter's &s;now's di&s;|&s;olv'd,</L>
<L>Rebellion's ice (that &s;o long time involv'd</L>
<L>Our Loyal hearts, chilling the noble Blood</L>
<L>That once &s;o vig'rou&s;ly that Fro&s;t with|&s;tood)</L>
<L>Thaw'd by the *<NOTE PLACE="marg">Gen. <HI>Monk</HI></NOTE> Northern Star; the glor'ous Spring</L>
<L>To th' Worlds great wonder did produce a King;</L>
<L>Great <HI>CHARLES</HI> that had &s;o long conceal'd his rays</L>
<L>Behind the angry Clouds, he now di&s;plays</L>
<L>His &s;plendid lu&s;tre, and the Flow'ry <HI>May</HI></L>
<L>Mu&s;t ever &s;acred be for that glad Day;</L>
<L>The god's confirm'd it; and (in &s;pight of Fear)</L>
<L>The Sun and Stars more fulgently appear</L>
<L>Th' en&s;uing <HI>May;</HI> you would have thought our joys</L>
<L>Top and top gallant now; what novel toys</L>
<L>Shall the next year bring forth? Fortune 'twas deem'd</L>
<L>Had play'd the Prod'gal; and <HI>Britain</HI> &s;eem'd</L>
<L>With triumphs forfeited: But Heaven's Decree,</L>
<L>Bli&s;&s;e much above our hopes, we 'gain mu&s;t &s;ee</L>
<L>A happy <HI>May;</HI> great <HI>Neptune</HI> now mu&s;t bring</L>
<L>A glorious tribute to the Oceans King:</L>
<L>Proud of the bli&s;s, his countenance he cheers,</L>
<L>And learns to &s;mile, his Charr'ot &s;wift he bears</L>
<L>To th' <HI>Indian</HI> &s;hore, &s;earching that Golden Mair,</L>
<L>In hopes &s;ome precious <HI>Carcanet</HI> to gain</L>
<L>Some Ma&s;&s;ie Orient Pearl, or Odour ta'ne</L>
<L>Out of the Phoenix Ne&s;t; but all the &s;tore</L>
<L>The <HI>D<GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="1 letter">dy</HI>'s yeilds too &s;mall, he mu&s;t have more:</L>
<L>Then tacks about, fair <HI>Lisbon</HI> Port's his aim;</L>
<L>His Sea-Nympths and loud Fame in's ears proclaim</L>
<L>The <HI>Infania</HI>'s rare Accompli&s;hments; 'tis &s;he</L>
<L>The war'ry God will court for's Maje&s;tie.</L>
<L>He offers up his Trident-Fork, his Chair,</L>
<L>He charms the Seas to calmne&s;s, takes the care</L>
<L>Of Pilot, and commands his liquid train</L>
<L>Of Nymphs and Dolphins to corrant the Main:</L>
<L>Whil&s;t <HI>Tryton</HI> &s;hrilly founds, <HI>Syrens</HI> are &s;een</L>
<L>Warbling melod'ou&s;ly to plea&s;e our Queen.</L>
<L>So once the <HI>Cyprian</HI> Godde&s;s 'bout her I&s;le</L>
<L>Did &s;ail in &s;tate; her triumph did beguile</L>
<L>The winged hours, and &s;he her &s;elf did plea&s;e</L>
<L>With hopes of being Godde&s;s of the Seas.</L>
<L>But lead &s;he &s;een how far our Queen excels</L>
<L>Her fam'd Beauty, how the Ocean &s;wells</L>
<L>To bear a Gem more worth then all that e're</L>
<L>Tru&s;ted them&s;elves unto the Sea-god's care,</L>
<L>She'd pull her Altars down, for anger die,</L>
<L>Or blu&s;h her &s;elf into deformity.</L>
<L>Mild <HI>Zepherus</HI> &s;oftly fill the expanded &s;ails,</L>
<L>The &s;hips glide nimbly, favour'd with fre&s;h gales,</L>
<L>Th' unwilling Waves divide, amaz'd to &s;ee</L>
<L>Upon their backs &s;uch beaut'ous Maje&s;tie,</L>
<L>Whil&s;t the proud billows &s;trive o're deck to glide,</L>
<L>In hopes unto her Royal foot to &s;lide</L>
<L>And &s;teal a ki&s;s; but curb'd by <HI>Neptunes</HI> frown,</L>
<L>They bur&s;t with grief, and in tears trickle down.</L>
<L>The &s;porting Fi&s;hes leap along the way,</L>
<L>Offring them&s;elves for &s;acrifice in joy.</L>
<L>But <HI>England</HI> envies that the &s;eas &s;o long</L>
<L>Should her &s;o much de&s;ired bli&s;s prolong.</L>
<L>She grows impatient til the <HI>Corni&s;h</HI> Hills</L>
<L>Salute her Royal Fleet; the news &s;oon fills</L>
<L>The neighb'ring &s;hires, they 'larm all the Ile,</L>
<L>With joy the Rocks at her approach do &s;mile.</L>
<L>But <HI>Neptune</HI> would by no means leave his Charge</L>
<L>Till <HI>Europe</HI>'s *<NOTE PLACE="marg">D. <HI>York.</HI></NOTE> Mars from's care did him enlarges;</L>
<L>Commands him to retreat, and vows him&s;elf,</L>
<L>To &s;et her &s;afely on the happy Earth.</L>
<L>No &s;ooner landed, but the Guns roar joy,</L>
<L>The Bonfires aud the Bells make Holy-day.</L>
<L>Each Loyal heart exalts, the Mu&s;es &s;ing</L>
<L>A joyful Meeting to our Queen and King.</L>
<L>The well-loyn'd Citizens wil drink a health</L>
<L>To Royal <HI>Cath'rines</HI> Nupti<GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="1 letter">ls; may their wealth</L>
<L>E're ready be for to &s;upport her &s;tate;</L>
<L>And may Great <HI>CHARLES</HI> protect her from all hate.</L>
<L>May all au&s;picious &s;tars conjoin to grace</L>
<L>Their interviews, and at that ble&s;&s;ed place</L>
<L>(At the fir&s;t &s;ight) let &s;howres of Arrows flie,</L>
<L>And pierce their hearts, &s;ent from each others eye.</L>
<L>And may their love-&s;ick &s;ouls (to &s;eek a re&s;t</L>
<L>At fir&s;t &s;alute) &s;teal in each others brea&s;t:</L>
<L>That &s;acred Hymen may unite tho&s;e hands,</L>
<L>Who&s;e hearts were join'd before in <HI>Cupids</HI> bands.</L>
<L>Then let our I&s;les with IO &s;ound, the Night</L>
<L>Is &s;acred to our Soveraigns choice delight;</L>
<L>May it prove full, e'rela&s;ting, may de&s;ire</L>
<L>Hourly add Fuel to their Nuptial Fire.</L>
<L>May both live long, both love, and happy be</L>
<L>In Health, Wealth, Peace, and in Pro&s;peritie.</L>
<L>And may this Month, great Sir, a <HI>Britains</HI> Heir</L>
<L>From your Imperial Loyns next year prepare</L>
<L>A Princely Pledge of your cha&s;t Con&s;orts love,</L>
<L>Another <HI>CHARLES</HI> to reign when you're above</L>
<L>Inthron'd; but may that change never draw near</L>
<L>Till <HI>Ne&s;tor</HI>'s Age upon your head you bear:</L>
<L>Your Royal Babe grown Man, that we may be</L>
<L>Rul'd &s;till by one of your ble&s;t Progenie.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P><HI>LONDON,</HI> Printed for <HI>Giles Calvert,</HI> at the Black-&s;pread-Eagle near the We&s;t-end of <HI>Pauls,</HI> 1662.</P>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
</TEXT>
</EEBO>
</ETS>
