KING CHARLES HIS BIRTHRIGHT.  ECCLESIASTES X. XVII. 
Blessed art thou O Land, when thy KING is the Son of Nobles.  
By P. M. Gentleman.   royal English blazon or coat of arms 
EDINBURGH, Printed by john Wreittoun. 1633.   

KING CHARLES HIS BIRTHRIGHT.  ECCLESIASTES X. XVII. 
Blessed art thou O Land, when thy KING is the Son of Nobles.  

IS any Land or any clime,  
More blessed than Britain at this time?  
What Monarch or what Sovereign,  
That dwells upon this earthly maine,  
May with our matchless CHARLES compare,  
Britain, France, and Ireland's heir?  
By HENRY, LIZA, peaceful JAMES,  
Born heir to four fair Diadames:  
First to the Roses white and red,  
Next to the Lily sprung and spread,  
Then to the Lion fierce and sharp,  
And to Apollo's golden Harp:  
The true borne Son of Kings before,  
Above an hundreth seven and more:  
The blessed effects which his reign brings,  
Prompts him to be the Son of Kings:  
A mortal God, a Prince divyne,  
By line, law, lot, the Heaven's propyne:  
A peirlesse Prince, who from his youth,  
Hath ever loud the sacred truth.  
What gifts belongs to those that's crowned,  
But in his Majesty is found,  
He faith defends by his great might,  
He represents GOD'S Image right:  
He favours peace with friend and foe,  
He can all veterate wrath forgo:  
If need require he can prepare,  
Most prudently for lawful War:  
Or foes envies our blessed estate,  
To have a King chaste temperate,  
Who being young we joy to tell,  
Proves father to the Common-well,  
Who wisely but all friend's respect,  
Can search out sins and sins correct:  
Who lives a life of good report,  
Example to the common sort,  
Who is a terror to the Thief,  
And to the good a strong relief,  
Who hath a heart stout and compleet,  
Prepared all dangers for to meet:  
Who hath reformed the civil Laws,  
For equity and justice cause,  
No idle mumbling Papists prayers,  
Nor yet no bloody jesuit airs,  
No false Arminian, Brunist breath,  
Dare echoed be within His earth.  
To public offices and charges,  
He only prefers and enlarges:  
The honest, virtuous, and the good,  
Not respecting wealth or blood:  
He hath a princely prudent care,  
O'er Orphans poor, and Widows bare:  
But here are gifts which fare exceeds,  
And fare surpasses vulgar heads:  
He can securely in effect,  
Walk wisely on the Dragon's neck,  
Most safely he can see and hear,  
A Crocodile to spend a tear,  
The Basilicks enchanting eye,  
Can no more harm him than a fly,  
He makes the Lamb (sympathy rare)  
Hard by the Wolf to sleep but fear:  
The subtle Fox if he forbidden,  
Dare not approach the harmless kid.  
These gifts superlative and more,  
His Princely wisdom doth decore,  
And seek him extra, you shall see,  
A Paragon but parity.  
For why his life defiance throes  
At envies face, and all his foes:  
Can any Naboth plain he wants,  
His Vineyard for his fruitful plants:  
Or can Vriah say he dies,  
Because the King his wife espies:  
Or can the people or CHRIST'S flock,  
Complain of Sal'mons' heavy yoke:  
Can any curre-mouthd Mastiff say,  
(That barks upon the world this day)  
Say but his Soul doth still commence,  
Peace and Religion's defence,  
And if subsidies be concluded,  
It's for those holy ends obtruded:  
Since Kings are Gods how dare ye then,  
Like Rabshaka's, Senacheribs' men:  
Presume to rail, reproach, or breath,  
Against the Godhead of their earth:  
Dare any in a thought abhorred,  
Curse this Anointed of the LORD.  
Or blame this King whom really,  
The Bards and Sibyls prophesy:  
To be that Prince whose happy stars,  
Presages to appease all wars:  
That true borne King, of whom of old,  
The Ancient Prophets have foretold,  
Of whom the Rymers in their verses,  
Most happy events thus reherses:  
That howsoever fortune fall,  
The Lion shall be Lord of all,  
This Princely Lion and this Lord,  
Shall with this Lily make concord:  
That Syce shall up and Sink shall under,  
The dead shall rise and work great wonder:  
This Lion shall be King and Prince,  
Of uncouth coasts fare, fare from hence.  
And of a waste and desert ground,  
A continent not fully found:  
Where huge great wilderness doth lie,  
Thither his Colonies must hie:  
To banish Zoroaster hence,  
Wirh Molech, Circe, and her Prince:  
And when Appollyon and his Aries,  
Are skipped over Charon's Ferries:  
Then shall he build to the true GOD,  
Temples to praise his Name abroad,  
And bring sweet Shiloh to that shore,  
Where Abbadon did dwell before.   

¶ O Royal King thou art that He  
Whom these predictions specify:  
Thou art that King and true borne Cesar,  
Our greatest hap and highest pleasure,  
Britanes bless, and Europa's jewel,  
Our Palladium, food, and fuel:  
GOD'S minion, and our only love,  
Next to the King of Kings above:  
Our guard, our watch, which still awakes  
In toil and travel for our sakes.  
Then come (Blessed KING) with great renown,  
Receive your great grand Father's Crown:  
Your birthright Crown that did suppress,  
The roaring Romen hardiness:  
That Virgin Sceptre singularie,  
Never as yet made tributary:  
Your own true Crown (Great Sir) I mean,  
Your old Fergusian diadame:  
Except this Crown that Crown was never,  
That did remain unconquerd ever:  
The Monarches four so much renowned,  
Were all most odiously decrownde:  
The Lion with the eagle's wings,  
(I mean the stout Assyrian Kings)  
Was by the barbarous Boar beat down,  
Which signifies the Persian Crown:  
The Leopard, the Grecian sway,  
Did beat the mighty Boar away:  
And then this Meteor Grecian might,  
But lasted like a lightning bright:  
The fearful Beast with many teeth,  
Which doth point out the Romans wrath,  
Though this Empire continued longest,  
Yet it was broke even at the strongest:  
Proudly Spain were all but slaves of late▪  
Unto the great Cesarean state,  
And Caesar was a slave beside,  
To Gregory for all his pride:  
France hath thrice exchangde the line,  
Within nine hundreth years and nine:  
The Pope's head ay an heirelesse crown,  
A birthright for some bastard clown:  
The faithless, graceless, Ottoman,  
Was tributar to Tamerlan,  
To Scanderbag, and Godfrey stout,  
And to the Christian Kings about:  
And let me speak this but offence,  
(With all submissive reverence)  
The Crown of judah did remain,  
A captive long in base disdain:  
But your brave Caledonian Crown,  
Bears this cognisance of renown,  
An hundreth and seven Princes fair,  
Leaves this unconquish to their heir:  
And of this flock, four score and ten,  
Were Christian Kings and holy men:  
Let any Nation in the World,  
Vaunt in this manner uncontrolled:  
For let the Scythian Crown contend,  
Or Egypt for her age defend,  
Compared with our antiquity,  
They both are but a novelty.   

¶ Great King this Crown and we are yours,  
And you alone art only ours:  
Your Princely Parents were our Kings,  
And we their faithful underlings:  
What night watches, and days travels,  
What foreign feed, and homebred quarrels,  
What wars, what dangers, toil and pain,  
They had for us and we for them,  
It is admirable to hear,  
As our antiquities can clear:   

And as they were, so shall we be,  
Yours in superlative degree.   
FINIS.