POEM, UPON HIS SACRED majesty's MOST HAPPY RETURN TO HIS DOMINIONS.  
Written by Sir William Davenant.  
LONDON, Printed for Henry Herringman, and are to be sold at his Shop at the sign of the Anchor on the Lower walk in the New Exchange. 1660.   

POEM, Upon his Sacred majesty's most happy RETURN To His DOMINIONS.  

WHen from your Towns all hastened to the shore,  
What shame could urge your people's blushes more  
Than to behold their royal Martyr's Son  
Appeased, even with their grief for what was done?  
So great your Mercy is, that you will grieve,  
If your wise Senate cannot all forgive.  
Nor can the Spies of Malice ere discern,  
That you from interest did this Virtue learn.  
Great Julius, in disguise, might act that part;  
But Nature has in you outdone his Art.   

Your perfect Father to such height did come  
Of godlike pity, near his Martyrdom,  
That he his Subject-Judges did forgive,  
And left it as their punishment to live.  
Pity not only flows from him to you,  
But, doubly, from your Mother's Mercy too:  
The limits of it none could ever know,  
Nor to the bounds of her compassion go;  
Whose Father in forgiveness did transcend  
The insolence of all that durst offend;  
When his Remorse seemed led by their Despair,  
Beyond the sight of Hope, or voice of Prayer.   

No more shall your bold Subjects strive to Reign;  
And fatal honour on each other gain.  
Their courage, which mistook the way to Fame,  
(And may find pity where it meets with shame)  
Shall, by your valour guided, far outshine  
Our glory got in France and Palestine.   

No more shall sacred Priests fall from their own  
Supported power, by shrinking from the Throne:  
Nor in divided shapes that Garment tear,  
Which their Great Chief did whole and seamless wear.   

No more shall any ancient of our Law,  
From old Records such modern Meaning draw,  
As made even Lawyers lawless, and inquire,  
How justly Kings to armed power aspire?  
The civil Robe did Armed power suspect,  
Though only Armed power can Law protect;  
And rescue Wealth from Crowds, when Poverty  
Treads down those Laws on which the Rich rely.  
Yet Law, where Kings are armed, rescues the Crowd  
Even from themselves, when Plenty makes them proud.   

No more shall any of the Noble Blood  
Too faintly stem the People's rising Flood;  
But when the wind, Opinion, does grow loud,  
Moving, like waves, the Many-headed Crowd;  
Then those great ships shall fast at Anchor ride,  
And not be hurried backward with the tide.  
The Throne's the Port to which their Course shall bear,  
As well at distance too as sailing near:  
Or, Anch'ring, shall for change of weather stay,  
And never lose when they can gain no way.   

No more shall public wealth on Spies be spent,  
To hunt the loyal and the Innocent:  
Nor jailers in contracted Prisons be  
The Keepers of the People's liberty:  
Nor Chiefs in civil Causes toil, and do  
The task of Judges and of Juries too;  
In whose High-Courts their Wills for Laws were know▪  
And all the civil power was martial grown.  
How useful must the regal Office be,  
Where both those powers for public good agree?  
Where Justice in a balance weighs the Cause,  
And wears a Sword but to defend the Laws.   

When (Mighty Monarch) your Three Nations count  
To what their gain, by gaining you, will mount;  
They justly reckon, that the least you bring  
Of greatness, is, that Blood which makes you King.  
And casting up what Satisfaction they,  
In full return of all your virtues, pay;  
The Product shows, you bring in value more,  
Than those Three Realms, which they do but restore.   

You bring such Clemency, as shows you have  
More Pardons, than your Angel-Father gave.  
Which shows a greatness that does most incline  
To what is greatest in the power Divine.  
'Tis that to which all Human kind does bow,  
And tend'rest sense of obligation owe.  
For wretched Man (by every passion led,  
Born sinful, and to many errors bred)  
Has use of Mercy still, and does esteem  
Creation a less work than to Redeem.   

You bring a judgement deeper than the Sea:  
And as in deepest Seas we safest be,  
So in your judgement's depths we may endure  
All Empire's sudden storms, and sleep secure.  
And as in deeper Seas we never sound,  
Or seek that Depth which never can be found,  
(Unless as Pilots, who, for trial, near  
The Ocean's Borders, cast a Plummet there;  
But cease to sound when they no bottom find)  
So, whilst I try to measure your deep Mind,  
I stop even at the Verges of your Court,  
Knowing my Plummet light, and Line too short.   

You bring, with depth of judgement, all the height  
And fire of Thought, that can give wings to Weight.  
A Mind so swift, that in a moment's space  
Not only flies o'er the diurnal Race,  
But does collect all objects of the Sun,  
And marks, what through the Globe the Great have done.  
You no endowment can like this possess,  
Which will preserve what Valour can increase.  
For power requires an universal Eye:  
It should, like yours, see all and suddenly.  
If thus it watch not ever for the State,  
It either sees too little, or too late.   

You bring such Valour as dares farther tread,  
Then Love dares follow; or Ambition lead.  
Valour, so watchful as may safely keep  
A Camp untrencht, and suffer scouts to sleep:  
Fit to surprise Surprizers early spies,  
It danger loves, as good for exercise.  
The honour you near Severn's Banks obtained,  
Did make the Victors lose by what they gained;  
When you reclaimed their malice, who with shame  
Blushed that they kept your Realms, yet gave you fame.   

You bring such charming virtues as move more  
Than all the secret gifts of bounteous Pou'r:  
Your kind approaches to invite access;  
Your patient ear to troublesome distress.  
Your natural greatness, never artful made;  
Nor so retired as if you sought a shade  
And by reservedness would mysterious seem:  
As formal men retire to get esteem.  
But you would so be visible and free,  
As Truth and valour still would public be.  
Those hate obscureness and would still be shown:  
They grow more loved as they become more known.   

You bring Religion, which before, like Fame,  
Was nothing but a Trumpet and a Name.  
Here most seemed holy but in Masquerade;  
Most visards wore, and in disguise were clad.  
Abroad, your firm Religion gained renown  
Through all the trials of Comparison.  
It will, at home, unmask dissembling Art;  
And what was wholly Face, shall grow all Heart.   

Thus, showing what you are, how quickly we  
Infer what all your Subjects soon will be!  
For from the monarch's virtue Subjects take,  
Th'ingredient which does public-virtue make.  
At his bright beam they all their Tapers light,  
And by his dial set their motion right;   

Your Clemency has taught us to believe  
It wise, as well as virtuous, to forgive.  
And now the most offended shall proceed  
In great forgiving till no laws we need:  
For laws slow progresses would quickly end,  
Could we forgive as fast as men offend.  
Revenge of past offences is the cause  
Why peaceful minds consented to have Laws.  
Yet plaintiffs and Defendants much mistake  
Their cure, and their diseases lasting make;  
For to be reconciled, and to comply,  
Would prove their cheap and shortest remedy.  
The length and charge of Laws vex all that sue;  
Laws punish many, reconcile but few.  
Entire forgiveness, thus derived from you,  
Does Clients reconcile and Factions too.  
No Faction shall hereafter own a name;  
But their distinctions vanish with their shame.   

Your careful judgement teaches us to prize  
Affliction, and to grow, by troubles, wise.  
To clear the sullen countenance of distress;  
And not with haste precipitate redress.  
Your judgement's patrence has even virtue taught  
That her reward should be with patience sought.  
'tis else required too boldly and too soon;  
As if she boasted that her work was done.  
We shall not boast of shining Loyalty,  
Whose light goes out, when held by us too high.  
It is a virtue, but 'tis duty too;  
And our reward is had in having you.   

Your minds swift motion (which hath often brought  
Actions, even farthest past, to instant thought;  
Which in a moment does all compass run;  
And then contract all objects into one:  
And judge all Empires, as the Sun might do,  
If he had life and reason too like you.)  
Has taught our feeble Thoughts to mend their pace;  
And follow though they lose you in the Race.  
And now your Nations shall with early Eyes,  
Watch the first Clouds ere storms of rebels rise.  
Though Orators (the people's Witches) may  
Raise higher Tempests than their skill can lay;  
Making a civil and staid Senate rude,  
And stoplesse as a running multitude:  
Yet can they not to full rebellion grow;  
Not knowing how much now the People know;  
Wno from your influence have ' Attained the wit  
Not to proceed from grudgings to a Fit.   

Your Valour has our rasher courage taught  
To do, not what we dare, but what we ought;  
Not to pretend renown from high offence;  
Nor braver boldness turn to impudence?  
Nor claim a right where we by force enjoy;  
Nor boast our strength from what we can destroy.   

Your other virtues bear instructive sway:  
Their fair examples we like Laws obey;  
Which through your Realms such harmony disperse,  
As if Love ruled, and Laws were writ in verse.  
whilst our Civilities grow so resin'd  
That now they more than former statutes bind▪  
The high in power make their approaches low,  
To meet and lift the humble when they bow.  
Such english-stiffness freely they forsake,  
As made wise Strangers wonder and go back.   

Your firm Religion shall our firmness breed,  
And turn into a Rock our shaken Reed.  
A Rock, which like a rolling wave before  
flowed with the Flood, and ebbed with ebbs of power.  
And that respect which your indulgent Eye,  
Pays, as your blessed father's Legacy.  
To sacred Priests, with cheerful bounty's too,  
Does teach what we with reverence ought to do.  
And well may Priests, (who are heaven's leigers) be  
Nobly defrayed in every embassy:  
They treat not for the profit of that King,  
From whose bright Palace they credentialss bring.  
But for the people's benefit to whom  
They are in pity sent and charged to come.  
To these we shall with reverence offerings make;  
Which they may justly and with honour take.  
'Tis done with some respect when Princes give  
Gifts to ambassadors, and they receive  
Those gifts with confidence, as if they knew,  
Though they are gifts, yet Custom makes them due.   

Too boldly, (Awful Monarch!) am I gone,  
Through all your Guards, to gaze about your Throne.  
Yet 'tis the use of greatness to excuse,  
The daring progress of the sacred Muse:  
She taught the Lover, love, and Warrior, war;  
And is the Guide, when Honour would go far.  
The Studious follow till they lose their sight,  
When to the upper heaven she makes her flight.  
She mounts above what they pretend to know,  
And leaves their soaring Thoughts in depths below.   

Why named I heaven, where all meet all reliefs,  
Where best of joys succeed the worst of Griefs;  
Yet, naming it, must Clouds of sorrow wear,  
For that dire cause which brought your Father there?  
King's must to heaven through shades of sorrow pass,  
And, taking leave of Nature, Death embrace.  
But he, with more than a devout intent,  
To people soon that heaven to which he went.  
Did, dying, leave three Nations (when they count  
To what his value, and their loss will mount.  
What he did suffer, and what they did do)  
Sorrow enough to bring them thither too.   

Much was he favoured by the power divine,  
Which to encourage virtue with some sign,  
Or likely taste, of future happiness,  
Did let him many blessings here possess.  
Your royal Mother, in his life, fulfilled  
All griefs that Turtle▪ Widowhood could yield;  
And has continued, since he reigned above,  
His care o'er all the Pledges of their love.   

You, in your manhood's bloom, expressed an awe  
Not of his regal but of nature's law:  
Obeying him in all, by no design,  
Or force, but so as Nature did incline.  
And with your growth your kind obedience grew;  
Which love, not precept, showed you was his due.  
You reu'renced him in deep afflictions more,  
Then on those heights where he did shine before.  
This virtuous softness made your People melt;  
Who in your triumph all that kindness felt  
Which to their Saint your duty had expressed,  
And drew from every Eye, and every Breast,  
Such tears and sighs as, in a happy time,  
Paid back your sorrows, and excused their crime.   

And your heroic Brothers (early grown  
Fames favourites, and rivals in renown)  
Did in their dawn such beams of comfort give  
As they had almost made him wish to live.  
That he might see the Glory of their Noon:  
But ah! life's glass he shook to make it run.  
The mighty Martyr gazed on heaven's reward:  
Then struggling Nature found him straight too hard  
For all her force: Religion watched the strife;  
And Honour called him back from proffered Life.   

'Twill not suffiice (best King!) that we have shown  
Your Picture, with Two worthies next your. Throne:  
But we would now of all the copies boast  
From such a great Orig'nall as is lost.  
Two, of the gentler Sex, remain to grace  
The matchless number of his royal Race.  
The First, (with practised patience, even when young,  
Whilst various winds made storms of Empire long)  
Has lived the great example, and the good,  
Of graceful and of prudent widowhood.  
The other has fit virtue to dispense,  
Even to a cloistered Virgin, innocence;  
And such discretion as might Factions guide;  
And so much beauty as She much might hide,  
Yet lend that Court, where Lilly's wildly grow,  
More than their glorious nuptials now can show.   

Tell me, (O Fame!) what triumph thou wouldst sound?  
In all thy boasted Flights thou scarce hast found  
One theme like mine. Ascend! and straight disperse  
(As far as ever Thou wert led by Verse,  
Or Light ere flew) my sovereign's full renown:  
Then rest thy wings, and lay thy Trumpet down.   
FINIS.