THE VISION: A Pindaric ODE: Occasioned by the DEATH Of Our Late Gracious Sovereign King CHARLES II.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
By EDM. ARWAKER, M.A.  
LONDON, Printed by J. Playford, for Henry Playford, near the Temple-Church: 1685.   

THE VISION:  

Stanza I.  
WHEN Fate its utmost Cruelty had shown,  
And the illustrious CHARLES was now no more,  
Th' Illustrious CHARLES, as Universally deplored  
As heretofore adored,  
Had changed his Earthly for a Heavenly Throne,  
And left the World, in all, but Sorrow, Poor;  
Tired with the fatal Day's oppresive Grief,  
And weary of my hateful Breath,  
In welcome Sleep my Senses sought Relief,  
Not for the small repose it brought,  
But that it represented to my thought  
The loved Resemblance, and desired Approach of Death.   

II.  
Gently the sweet Enchantment o'er me stole,  
From part to part insensibly it crept,  
And ceased not Charming till my Sorrows slept:  
It was so complaisant and kind,  
That while my Body lay confined,  
It gave Enlargement to my wandering Soul.  
The joyful Captive, now set free,  
With active wings expatiates through the Air,  
Resolved, because it sound the freedom rare,  
To improve the Blessing of its Liberty,  
Till almost wearied with its nimble flight,  
The sad Complaints of a soft Mournful Voice  
Its presence did invite,  
Who where it heard the doleful noise,  
With eager Motion hastened to alight.   

III.  
Behold a Grove, whose Melancholy shade  
Appeared for Sorrow's last retirement made,  
Where in confused disorder grew,  
Bidding Defiance to the Sun's bright Eye,  
The Mournful Cypress and Unlucky Yew;  
So closely interwov'n they were,  
His Midday Beams were Strangers there,  
Nor, durst into its dismal Secrets pry.  
Here, in the darkest of the Solitude,  
My Soul, which fearless did intrude,  
Saw on the Margin of a Murmuring Brook,  
By a faint light almost expired,  
An Awful 
* Church of England.  MATRON, Mournfully retired:  
Decent and Grave, yet Glorious was her dress,  
And did an humble Grandeur well express:  
Severe, but yet inviting was her Look,  
And though Antiquity dwelled in her Face,  
It heightened, not impaired, her Virgin Grace,  
And made the Modern Beauties justly give her place.   

IV.  
Extended on the damp unwholesome Ground she lay,  
And in her Right-hand held a 
* The Bible.  Sacred Book,  
Into whose Mystic Leaves none were forbid to look,  
Since all from thence to Life must learn the way.  
On her Lefthand she raised her drooping Head,  
Whence a decaying Glory seemed to fly,  
A new fallen Crown too lay neglected by,  
And withered Garlands round about were spread.  
On her soft Body lay a 
* The Cross.  ponderous Load,  
Once, for her sake, the Burden of her GOD,  
On which, in Bloody Lines were writ,  
(Such Lines as did the Tragic Scene befit)  
Alas! my Love is Crucified!  
For me he carried This, for me on This he died!  
Brimful of Tears an Urn before her stood,  
Which th' unexhausted Fountains of her Eyes,  
Forbore not to maintain with fresh Supplies;  
Resolved, if those should fail, to make them good,  
(Grand Evidence of Grief!) with her last drop of Blood.   

V.  
Surprised with Terror at the Mournful Scene,  
And wondering what could cause such Mighty Grief,  
So beyond prospect of relief,  
So hard for me to guests what it could mean:  
At last its Jail th' Imprisoned Passion broke,  
And like a mighty Wind  
Struggling i' th' Caverns where 'twas long confined,  
Her teeming Breast with strong Convulsions shook,  
Till at her Lips it forced a vent,  
And in sad empiric made her thus lament.   

VI  
Unhappy and Disconsolate!  
What hope has wretched EUSEBIA to survive,  
When all of which she could desire to live,  
The grand supporter for her State,  
Glorious as Good, and Pious too as Great,  
The Godlike CHARLES is snatched away by Fate!  
Mourn, mourn, my Sons, and bow your Mitred heads,  
Since He, alas! is fallen who raised them High;  
Now put on more than your own Sable weeds,  
For Him who Clothed you in the purest Reds,  
In Robes of Scarlet of the Richest Dye;  
For Him by whose kind Influence you grew,  
Your Neighbour's Envy, and their Admiration too.  
Even with the Sev'n-hilled City you might vie,  
And all the Roaring of her Bulls defy,  
As well as all the Croaking of the hoarse Geneva fry,  
While He, the Great Defender of your Faith was by.  
He in your Dangers interposed  
With Numbers of your Foes enclosed;  
And when the Nations sins had injured Heaven,  
Between its Vengeance and their Souls he stood;  
Their shelter is all dangerous Times and Things,  
The best of Christians as the best of Kings:  
By him such Blessings to his Realms were given;  
He seemed Created for his People's good.   

VII.  
Here of fresh Tears an Inundation rose,  
And by strong sighs driven fiercely on,  
Did her Articulate Voice oppose,  
And only in broken Accents gave her leave to moan.  
The Sympathising Brook began to swell,  
And from the Trees a baneful moisture fell,  
And all around was heard a dismal groan,  
Which seemed aloud to utter Desolation.   

VIII.  
When, lo! a strange unusual Light broke in,  
And changed the dreadful Scene;  
The hideous Lamentation ceased,  
Charmed with an harmonious sound,  
And Light and Music filled the place around,  
And in the height of strange, confusion pleased.  
When from a Cloud of Incense seemed t' alight  
A Glorious Form, beyond conception bright,  
Who raised the dying MATRON from the ground,  
And with a Starry wreath her Sacred Temples Crowned;  
Next her Exuberant sorrow chid,  
Which she with blushes strove to hide;  
While the Divine Commissioner from on high,  
Delivered his important Embassy.   

IX.  
" Darling of Heaven, thy God's immediate care,  
" This causeless grief forbear,  
" And my Almighty Message hear.  
" As I with Legions of my fellows went,  
" For we by Heaven's Command were sent,  
" On the Illustrious Charles' Soul to wait,  
" While from his ancient Monarchy below,  
" (Pleased with the Orders we obeyed)  
" The Sacred Guest in Triumph we conveyed  
" To a sublimer State,  
" Which shall no end, no alteration know:  
" Th' ALMIGHTY'S Voice struck my attentive ear,  
" That Voice which Angels cannot hear;  
" But straight they blush with shame, and tremble all with fear.   

X.  
Thou, who, when first for Man's Salvation,  
My great concern was shown,  
Were't sent to make the blessed Contrivance known,  
And to the Virgin brought'st the wondrous News,  
Which lofty Reason proudly did refuse,  
And any Faith but Hers would scruple to believe;  
Yet she with humble Credence did receive:  
Hence to that world another Errand make,  
That world unfit such Blessings to partake,  
But for my Dear ANOINTED's, and EUSEBIA's sake.  
Go, wipe the Tears from my EUSEBIA's Eyes,  
Say, 'tis my pleasure she should weep no more,  
Tell her what Mercies I have yet in store,  
Tell her she wrongs me with her cries,  
Has she not tried my Love; my Bounty heretofore;  
And can she think me now Unkind or Poor.  
Tho' for Mysterious reasons of my Heavenly State,  
I've called my CHARLES, my Great Vicegerent home,  
From the dissatisfied repining Crowd,  
Who ne'er the Blessing understood,  
Nor valued till too late,  
To fix him on a Loftier Throne,  
Becoming more his Goodness and my Own;  
I've placed another in his room,  
His Murdered FATHER's Second SON,  
Who, as the First for Ages past has done,  
Must Bless the World for Ages yet to come.   

XI.  
The Mighty JAMES is he,  
The Mighty JAMES ordained for Monarchy!  
(Not the vain Idol of the Factious Crowd,  
That base allay to Charles' Royal Blood)  
But One on every side derived from Majesty:  
As the Fourth Henry Great, as the famed Martyr Good.  
Peaceful as the first Monarch of his Name.  
But not Ignobly Tame;  
For great Exploits in Arms admired and feared,  
And still beloved where most revered;  
His Equal fills not any Mortal Throne,  
For never, till in Him, were known  
Such Courage and such Conduct met in One.  
How did he make ungrateful France repent  
The rudeness of their Compliment,  
When he, who nobly Acted on their side,  
(To gratify a bold Usurper's Pride)  
Was to their Enemy's assistance sent?  
How has he made the Belgic Lion roar,  
And driven him back to that Rebellious shore,  
To learn Submission and encroach no more?  
How fearless and unmoved he stood,  
Besmeared all o'er with Blood,  
His Life less valued than his Country's good!  
But that, for greater benefits designed,  
Was our Almighty care,  
In which his people were to find  
A large reserve of Blessings yet behind;  
Nor shall EUSEBIA want a liberal share;  
To him she does as ami'ble appear,  
And is, as to his Famous Predecessors, dear.  
He does her grief with Godlike Pity see,  
And knows, and will reward her Loyalty.  
He knows, Who, when the Jaucy Crowd  
Grew insolent and lowed,  
Unmoved, the Tempest's boisterous Rage withstood,  
And for his Right did faithfully contend;  
That Right which now will Theirs defend,  
That Right on which their hopes, on which their joys depend.  
Thus spoke Th' Angelic Vision, and withdrew,  
Cheered with its words EUSEBIA pleasant grew,  
The Countenance of the Place was altered too,  
And my glad Soul in haste back to its Body flew;  
For Life was acceptable now.   
FINIS.   

ADVERTISEMENT.  
A Poem on the Sacred Memory of Our Late Sovereign, with a Congratulation to His Present Majesty, Written by Mr. Tate.  
A Pindaric on the Death of our Late Sovereign, with an Ancient Prophecy on his Present Majesty, Written by Mrs. Behn.  
Both Sold by Henry Playford near the Temple-Church.