royal blazon or coat of arms 
TO THE MAJESTY OF KING JAMES.  
A gratulatory Poem by Michael Drayton.  
AT LONDON Printed by james Roberts, for T. M. and H. L. 1603.   

 royal blazon or coat of arms  
TO THE MAJESTY of King JAMES.  

THE hopeful reign of a most happy King,  
Lo thus excites our early Muse to sing,  
Of her own strength which boldly thus presumes,  
That's yet unimpt with any borrowed plumes,  
A Counsels wisdom, and their grave foresight,  
Lends me this lustre, and resplendent light:  
Whose well-prepared policy, and care,  
For their indoubted Sovereign so prepare,  
Other vain titles strongly to withstand,  
Placed in the bosom of a peaceful Land:  
That black destruction which now many a day,  
Had fixed her stern eye for a violent prey,  
Frustrate by their great providence and power,  
Her very nerves is ready to devour,  
And even for grief down sinking in a swoon  
Beats her snaked head against the verdant ground.  
But whilst the air thus thunders with the noise,  
Perhaps unheard, why should I strain my voice?  
When stirs, & tumults have been hot'st & proudest,  
The noble Muse hath sung the sternest & loudest;  
And know great Prince, that Muse thy glory sings,  
(What ere detraction snarl) was made for Kings.  
The neighing courser in this time of mirth,  
That with his armed hoof beats th're-echoing earth,  
The trumpets clangor, & the people's cry,  
Not like the Muse can strike the burnished sky,  
which should heaven quench th'eternal quicking springs  
The stars put out, could light them with her wings.  
What though perhaps myself I not intrude  
Amongst th'unsteady wondering multitude,  
The tedious tumults, and the boisterous throng,  
That press to view thee as thou comest along,  
The praise I give thee shall thy welcome keep,  
When all these rude crowds in the dust shall sleep,  
And when applause and shouts are hushed & still,  
Then shall my smooth verse chant thee clear & shrill.  
With thy beginning, doth the Spring begin,  
And as thy Usher gently brings thee in,  
Which in consent doth happily accord  
With the year kept to the incarnate Word,  
And in that Month (cohering by a fate)  
By the old world to wisdom dedicate,  
Thy Prophet thus doth seriously apply,  
As by a strong unfailing Augury,  
That as the fruitful, and ful-bosomed Spring,  
So shall thy reign be rich and flourishing:  
The month thy conquests, & achievements great  
By those shall sit on thy Imperial seat,  
And by the year I seriously divine.  
The Crown for even settled in thy line.  
From Cornwall now past Calidons' proud strength,  
Thy Empire bears eight hudred miles in length:  
Half which in breadth her bosom forth doth lay  

The Irish Sea.  From the fair Germane to ' th' Verginian sea:  
Thy Realm of Ireland, a most fertile Land,  
Brought in subjection to thy glorious hand,  
And all the Isles their chalky tops advance  
To the sun seiting from the coast of France.  
Saturn to thee his sovereignty resigns,  
Opening the locked way to the wealthy mines,  
And till thy reign Fame all this while did hover,  
The Northwest passage that thou mightst dise of  
Unto the Indies, where that treasure lies  
Whose plenty might ten other worlds suffice.  
Neptune and jove together do conspire,  
This gives his trident, that his three forked fire,  
And to thy hand do give the keys to keep,  
Of the profound immeasurable deep.   

But soft my Muse, check thy abundant strain  
To the conceiving of th'unskilful brain,  
That whilst thy true descent I do rehearse,  
Th'unlearned'st soul may sweetly taste my verse▪  
Which now in order let me first dispose,  
And tell the union of the blessed Rose▪  
That to thy Grandsire Henry I may bring thee,  
(From whom I after to thy birth may sing thee)  

Katherine wife to Henry the fist.  That tudor's blood did worthily prefer,  
From the great Queen that beauteous Dowager,  

Edmond Tudor Earl of Richmond, son of Owen Tudor by the Queen. The daughter of john Duke of Somerset, son of john Earl of Somerset, the son of john of Gaunt.  Whose son brave Richmond from the Britons fet,  
Graft in the stock of Princely Somerset,  
The third fair Sien, the sweet Roseate plant,  
Sprung from the Root of the Lancastrian Gant,  
Which had seventh Henry, that of royal blood  
By his dear Mother, is the Red-rose bud,  
As their great Merlin prophesied before  
Should the old Britons regalty restore,  
Which Henry reigning by th'usurpers death,  
Married the Princess fair Elizabeth  
Fourth Edward's daughter, whose predest'nate bed  
Did thus conjoin the White-rose, and the Red:  
These Roseal branches as I thus entwyne,  
In curious trails embellishing thy line,  
To thy blessed Cradle let me bring thee on,  
Rightly derived from thy great Grandsire's throne.  
Who holding Scotland's amity in worth,  
Strongly to link him with King james the fourth,  
His eldest daughter did to him unite,  
Th'unparalleled bright lovely Margarite,  
Which to that husband prosperously did bring,  
The fifth of that Name, Scotland's lawful King,  
Father to Mary (long in England seen)  
The daulphin's dowager, 
Married whilst he was Dauphin.  the late Scottish Queen.   

But now to Margarite back again to come,  
From whose so fruitful, and most blessed womb  
We bring our fullioy, james her husband dead,  

Archibald Dowglasso, Earl of Anguish.  took gallant Anguish to a second bed,  
To whom ere long she bore a princely girl,  
Married to Lenox, that brave-issued Earl,  
This beauteous Douglas, 
The Countesle of Lenox.  as the powers imply,  
Brought that Prince Henry, Duke of Albany,  
who in the prime of strength, 
Henry Lord Daily.  in youths summed pride  
Married the Scotch Queen on the other side,  
Whose happy bed to that sweet Lord did bring,  
This Britain hope, james our undoubted King,  
In true succession, as the first of other  
Of Henry's line by Father, and by Mother.  
Thus from the old stock showing thee sprung to be,  
Grafting the pure White, with the Red-rose tree,  
By mixture made vermilion as they meet,  
For in that colour is the Rose most sweet:  
So in thy Crown the precious flower that grows  
Be it the Damask, or vermilion Rose,  
Amongst those Relics, that victorious King,  
Edward called Longshanks, did from Scotland bring,  
And as a Trophy royally prefer  
To the rich Shrine in famous Westminster,  
That stone reserved in England many a day,  

Recorded to be that stone whereon jacob slept.  On which great jacob his grave head did lay,  
And saw descending Angels whilst he slept:  
Which since that time by sundry Nations kept,  
(From age to age I could recite you how,  
Can I my pen that liberty allow.)  
An ancient Prophet long ago foretold,  
(Though fools their saws for vanities do hold)  
A King of Scotland, 
A prophecy belonging to that stone.  ages coming on,  
Where it was found, be crowned upon that stone.  
Two famous Kingdoms separate thus long,  
Within one Island, and that speak one tongue,  
Since Brute first reigned, (if men of Brute allow)  
Never before united until now,  
what power, nor war could do, nor time expected,  
Thy blessed birth hath happily effected.  
O now revive that noble Britain's name,  
From which at first our ancient honours came,  
Which with both Nations fitly doth agree  
That Scotch and English without difference be,  
And in that place where feuds were wont to spring  
Let us light jigs, and joyful Paeans sing.  
Whilst such as rightly prophesied thy reign,  
Deride those Idiots held their words for vain.  
Had not my soul been proof 'gainst envies spite  
I had not breathed thy memory to write:  
Nor had my zealous, and religious lays  
Told thy rare virtues, and thy glorious days.  
Renowned Prince, when all these tumults cease,  
Even in the calm, and Music of thy peace,  
If in thy grace thou deign to favour us,  
And to the Muses be propitious,  
Caesar himself, Rooms glorious wits among,  
Was not so highly, nor divinely sung.  
The very earthl'est & degenerat'st spirit,  
That is most void of virtue, and of merit,  
With the austeer'st, and impudentest face,  
Will thrust himself the foremost to thy grace;  
Those silken, laced, and perfumed hinds,  
That have rich bodies, but poor wretched minds,  
But from thy Court (O Worthy) banish quite  
The fool, the Pander, and the Parasite,  
And call thyself most happy (than be bold)  
When worthy places, worthiest men do hold,  
The servile clown for shame shall hide his head,  
His ignorance, and baseness frustrated,  
Set lovely virtue ever in thy view,  
And love them most, that most do her pursue,  
So shalt thou add renown unto thy state,  
A King most great, most wise, most fortunate.   
FINIS.   

To the Reader.  
FOr the truth of these branches of the descent, in the table or Page here unto annexed, the perfect and sundry Genealogies extant, do sufficiently warrant in this behalf: If by reason it is but a part, and that also patterned out of the large Genealogy as a limb of the same, and runs only and directly with the Imperial line, being but so much (as we may fitly say) is allied to the Poem: It seem not to bear such uniformity and proportion, as workmanship would praise, that let judgement bear with and the Artificer reform, being placed here rather for explanation, than any mere or extreme necessity.