AN ODE Occasioned by the DEATH OF THE QUEEN, WITH A LETTER From the AUTHOR TO Mr. DRYDEN. abusing him severely.  
By a Gentleman A True Lover of his Country.  
LONDON, Printed by Tho. Warren for Francis Saunders, at the Blue Anchor in the Lower Walk of the New-Exchange, MDCXCV. 14. June.   

TO Mr. Dryden.  
SIR,  
THough I have little Acquaintance with you, nor desire to have more, I take upon me, with the Assurance of a Poet, to make this Dedication to you, which I hope you will the more easily excuse, since you have often used the same freedom to others; and since I protest sincerely, that I expect no Money from you.  
I could not forbear mentioning your Admired Lewis, whom you compare to Augustus, as justly as one may compare you to Virgil; Augustus (though not the most exact Pattern of a Prince) yet, on some Occasions, showed Personal Valour, and was not a League-Breaker, a Poisoner, a Pirate: Virgil was a good Man and a clean Poet, all his Excellent Writings may be carried by a Child in one hand more easily, than all your Almanzor's can be by a Porter upon both shoulders.  
When I saw your prodigious Epistle to the Translation of Juvenal, I feared you were wheeling to the Government; I confess too I long expected something from you on the late sad occasion, that has employed so many Pens, but 'tis well that you have kept silence; I hope you'll always be on the other side; Did even Popery ever get any honour by you?  
You may wonder that I subscribe not my Name at length, but I defer that to another time: I hear you are Translating again, let English Virgil be better than English Juvenal, or 'tis odds you'll hear of me more at large; in the mean time, hoping that you and your Covey will dislike what I have written, I remain,  
Sir, Your very Humble Servant, A. B.   

AN ODE Occasioned by the DEATH of the QUEEN.  

THE Queen is dead and Lewis lives!  
O Justice, tho' from Earth long since you flew,  
Will you forsake the Heavens too?  
O where are the Rewards that Virtue gives?  
Or gives she none,  
But her Poor helpless self alone?  
Do the most earnest Vows made by Mankind  
To the Great God above mix idly with the Wind?  
Has the Almighty from His height  
But an imperfect sight  
Of things below the Firmament?  
Or, if He plainly sees and hears,  
Can He be Goodness, yet would not relent  
To a whole wretched Nation's Prayers and Tears?   

Cease to expostulate, Vain Man,  
Th' Almighty (much offended) can,  
But will not always see and hear;  
He shuts His pitying Eye, He stops His willing Ear:  
Virtue the best Rewards to MARY gives,  
Justice in Heaven alone must refuge find:  
For a sad Vengeance on depraved Mankind,  
The Queen is dead, and Lewis lives.  
To us, alas! she's dead; no more, no more, the Queen  
By Human Eyes is seen:  
From the Corrupted Age she's flown  
Not to behold  
Votes bought and sold;  
Into the Seats of Holiness she's gone:  
Less perfect Saints must stay  
For part of their wished Heaven till the Great Judgment-Day:  
She's now Entire in the High Palace, where  
Few Earthly Rulers ever will appear:  
She's now where she'll Her Glorious William see,  
(But Guarded Nations pray that late the time may be)  
With Him she'll live above  
In Triumph and in Pure Eternal Love.   

For Ever near Th'Almighty is Her Place  
She's clothed with Light,  
The Angels she beholds, employs their fight,  
And to the Heavens adds the Beauty of Her Face:  
The Cherubins and Seraphins rejoice,  
To the Celestial King  
Harmoniously they sing,  
And hear the Music of Her Voice.  
Thus Blessing and thus Blest,  
The Pious Queen looks down  
From Her Etherial Throne,  
And wonders that the World's possessed  
Still with Infernal Vice! What pleasure Tyrants find  
In the destruction of Mankind!  
Why madly Heaven to lose,  
By various Wickedness, so many Mortals choose!    
FINIS.  

THE Temple of Death, a Poem; written by the Marquis of Normanby. Horace of the Art of Poetry, made English by the Earl of Roscommon. The Duel of the Stags, by the Honourable Sir Robert Howard. Together with several other Excellent Poems by the Earls of Rochester and Orrery, Sir Charles Sedley, Sir George Etheridge, the Honourable Mr. Montague, and other choice Pens. To which are added several Poems of the Honourable Madam Wharton. The Second Edition Corrected.  
An Epistle to the Right Honourable Charles Earl of Dorset and Middlesex, Lord Chamberlain of His Majesty's Household, occasioned by His Majesty's Victory in Ireland.  
An Epistle to Charles Montague Esq; on His Majesty's Voyage into Holland, by Mr. George Stepny.