Ecclesia Restaurata: A VOTIVE POEM TO THE REBUILDING OF St. Paul's Cathedral.  
Illa Domus Stabulum? non est, Puer auree, non est: Illa Domus, quâ tu nasceris, est Stabulum?  
Crashaw Epig. Sacr.  
H B   woodcut, printer's mark, crown atop a canon 
LONDON: Printed for Henry Brome, at the Gun at the West end of St. Paul's. 1677.   

Ecclesia Restaurata: A Votive POEM to the Rebuilding of St. PAUL's CATHEDRAL.  

I.  
WHat beauteous Tumor's this, with Royal Grace,  
Springs up a grateful object to our eyes,  
In such a ruin'd and unsightly place?  
As Chymiek flowers from their own ashes rise.   

II.  
Does time revolve back to the Saxons days,  
Devotion's more than golden age? thus, thus  
Were they employed when they did Temples raise,  
And left— I blush, I cannot say, to us.   

III.  
For a succeeding Age produced a Race  
That durst assume the (than unthought of) guilt,  
And with a false, but equal Zeal, deface  
What the true Puritans before had built.   

iv  
But now slow time repays again that debt  
Which kind Antiquity of old did lend:  
Fate has a Monarch raised who, good as great,  
Does, like himself, our wounded Faith defend.   

V  
Tell of the pious Ethelbert no more,  
Nor mention peaceful Edgar's happy fame,  
Since that renown they justly claimed, before,  
Now drowned sinks in Charles his greater name.   

VI  
Those Royal Saints rejoice where now they reign,  
To see a Prince, the greatest of their Heirs,  
Under his Government, restore again  
The darling Peace and Piety, of theirs.   

VII.  
To such a King what Duty ought appear,  
How much of unfeigned Reverence and Love?  
Who not alone pleases all good men here,  
But adds a joy to the blessed Souls above.   

VIII.  
He London raised, ruin'd, and sunk in Fire,  
To her now State; and as a Crown to all  
(Since higher than Heaven no Heroes can aspire)  
Restores the honour of her Tutelar Paul.   

IX.  
Paul, a great Prince among the twelve, and our  
Peculiar Doctor, after all the grief  
He lately suffered from a Rebel Power,  
Has found at Caesar's Judgment-Seat relief.   

X.  
Who knew not then how they these Walls did slain,  
Making a Church a loathsome Stable, thus  
The Saint with Beasts encountered once again,  
More barbarous than those of Ephesus.   

XI.  
Since, like a common house, flames did surprise  
Her roof: the Church obscured in Ruins lay,  
Till now, great Charles bids her a Temple rise,  
And from her ten years' sleep salute the day.   

XII.  
Mark the Gradations which this Building hath;  
'Tis quite destroyed to rise less transitory.  
Thus 'tis the language of the Church that saith  
Humility is the first step to Glory.   

XIII.  
Or is it rather fortune did conspire  
(So great was late this Temple's Profanation)  
As not enough to purge the same by Fire,  
To cleanse it to the very first Foundation.   

XIV.  
Such the Mosaic Law was heretofore, 
Leu. 14. 45.   
To that sad House where the dire Pest did reign:  
And can there be a Plague so great, and more  
Deadly infectious, than to be profane?   

XV.  
Once more from nothing Pawles shall pierce the Sky!  
So at the last and universal flame,  
Man, from that earth where he dissolved did lie,  
Shall spring new made, more fair, and yet the same.   

XVI.  
Ruin does thus the way to Beauty prove:  
And if a Paradox like this can be,  
The Immaterial Church in time may move  
Out of Confusion to Conformity.   

XVII.  
Rise a good Omen to our Church's Peace,  
Thou Reverend Structure; and as thy Saint, Paul,  
(Whose honour did by being o'ercome increase)  
Advance more great, and glorious from thy fall.   

XVIII.  
But since a Work so great must slowly rise,  
And few may live to see it built outright,  
To satisfy this Generations eyes,  
Behold in little a prophetic sight.   

XIX.  
Thus, when in flames th' Arabian Bird expires,  
To live again in a more vigorous birth,  
A little Phoenix from those Funeral Fires  
Starts up the Embryo-wonder of the earth.   

XX.  
What Miracle of Art will grow from hence,  
And challenge through the World a Parallel,  
When the bare Model only for Expense,  
And real Value does so far excel?   

XXI.  
But something more Majestic than even this  
May we with solid reason well expect,  
Where to the Work, a CHARLES auspicious is:  
A help so great can have no small effect.   

XXII.  
Hereafter, how will every Generation  
Bless that dear name, when from Records they know  
This City's Beauty, Glory of the Nation,  
To th' pious greatness of his soul they owe.   

XXIII.  
Nor shall Posterity forget the least  
Of those, who such a Monument shall raise;  
For when from their surviving Work they rest,  
Eternal Fame shall mention their due Praise.   

XXIV.  
What did I say— only, eternal Fame?  
Better Records are to such merit given;  
Angels shall write with their own quills, each name  
I'th' everlasting Registers of Heaven.   

XXV.  
While in the front of those deserving men,  
As the Conductor of this beauteous Frame,  
Stands England's Archimedes, Learned Wren,  
Who builds in Paul's a Trophy to his Name.   

XXVI.  
Earth's Cabinet of Rarities, famed Rome,  
Shall now no more alone possess what's rare;  
Since British Architecture dares presume  
To vie with the most celebrated there.   

XXVII.  
Britain, who, though perhaps, the last she be  
To imitate what's great in Foreign Parts;  
Yet when she that hath done, we always see  
Th' Inventors she excels in their own Arts.   

XXVIII.  
Ah happy Englishmen! if we could know  
Our happiness, and our too active fears  
Of being wretched, did not make us so!  
What cause of grief, other than this appears?   

XXIX.  
France, and the neighbouring Europe, flame in War,  
Seeking by Arms each others rest t' invade;  
But while they burn and bleed, we only, are  
Rich in an envied Peace, and Foreign Trade.   

XXX.  
While there, nor Church, nor Sanctuary can  
Shield the rich Merchant from the armed rout,  
Nor Virgin from the Lust of furious man.  
Our Island one Asylum seems, throughout.   

XXXI.  
Sacred and Civil Structures there decrease,  
And while to Arms their lofty heads submit,  
We are employed in the best Works of Peace,  
And erect Temples to the God of it.   

L'Envoy.  
RIse noblest Work, rise above Envy's eye,  
Never in thy own Ruins more to lie,  
Till the whole world finds but one obsequy.   

Rise to that noted height, that Spain, and France,  
Nay, Italy, may by their confluence  
To our North Wonder, thy great Name advance.   

And, what's to Protestants of better sense,  
Make them confess our English Church expense,  
And Beauty, equals their Magnificence.   
FINIS.