A PINDARIC ODE ON THE SACRED MEMORY Of Our late Gracious Sovereign King CHARLES II.  
To which is added, Another ESSAY On the same Occasion, By Sir F. F. Knight of the Bath.  
Dum juga montis Aper, fluvios dum Piscis amabit,  
Dumque thymo pascentur Apes dum rore Cicadae,  
Semper Honos Nomenque tuum Laudesque manebunt.  Virg. 
LONDON, Printed by I. Playford, for Henry Playford, near the Temple-Church: 1685.   

A Pindaric ODE.  

STANZA I.  
AS distant Thunder in a rolling Cloud,  
First murmurs inwardly, then roars aloud,  
O'er the amazed and listening Crowd,  
Till the dread Clap frights every mortal Ear,  
Too weak heavens angry Voice to bear;  
Such was the sad distracting News  
Which February's fatal Ides did bring,  
The dangerous sickness of our best-loved KING,  
That pierced the Soul and did the Mind amaze:  
Trembling with painful Doubt we wait  
To know what the next Messenger will say,  
And all the while we weep, and all the while we Pray;  
When suddenly Death's Herald spoke the dreadful Fate,  
(Alas! the miserable Day!)  
The News too sad to hear, too Killing to Repeat!   

II.  
Horror and Cries fill all around,  
Distracted looks, and Throbbing hearts,  
In every dismal place are found;  
As if 'twere the last Trumpet's sound:  
And hideous Groans do Echo from all parts.  
Frighted with what I saw and heard;  
But ah, much more with what I feared:  
The blasted City soon I left;  
And, as of Reason quite bereft,  
I wildly roamed about to seek some place  
Lesle Dolefull than the City was;  
Where without Partners, without lookers on,  
I might enjoy my grief alone,  
And for a little space  
Might lay the weighty Burden of my Sorrows down.   

III.  
And long I had not roved about,  
ere an approved Retirement I found out;  
Ruins, that to Religion Sacred were of Yore;  
Nor now less venerable than heretofore:  
Where all things did my Melancholy fancy please;  
Murmuring Waters, awful Cliffs and withered Trees:  
Where cheerful Birds ne'er Sing, nor e'er blows gentle Breez:  
Nor any Beast, nor humane Face,  
Was to be seen upon the lonely place.  
To this forlorn and uncouth Seat,  
I, softly with my load of Grief, retreat:  
Where every Rock and every Tree  
Would (I knew) condole with me;  
Only stern Fate would unrelenting be.  
Thus then with many a Tear and Groan  
My Dead, my Sacred PRINCE I did bemoan.   

IV.  
CHARLES', the Merciful and Good!  
CHARLES', the Flower of Princely Blood!  
Of all we Earthly Gods do call,  
CHARLES, the most Beloved of all!  
Our Heart's Delight, joy of our Eyes;  
And whom not we alone did prize,  
Through the whole Universe his Glory flies,  
Even Nations Strangers to our Faith and God,  
Had heard his wondrous Fame,  
Revered his awful Name,  
And Eastern Princes Dazzled with his bright Renown,  
Which did so much Eclipse their own;  
Sent their Ambassadors abroad  
To Court the favour of this second SOLOMON;  
Of him to learn the Royal Art  
To Govern and secure their People's Heart,  
While Christendom from every part  
Did to his well known justice still appeal.  
Whose Word and Wisdom ever turned the Scale.   

V.  
He that can tell the drops of Rain,  
That in April's Month do fall,  
(Or His sad Subjects Tears can count,  
Which to a greater number mount;)  
May reckon up his Glories, but not all,  
(For that Essay would be in vain,)  
Which did adorn his Life and Consecrate his Reign;  
Great Lord of Wit, Patron of Arts he was,  
Learning's strong Atlas, Poetry's best friend;  
Crowned with each Ray, and blest with every Grace,  
That could a Prince Adorni or recommend.  
But if in aught he did himself excel,  
'Twas in His boundless Clemency!  
In which he seemed heavens Parallel;  
Nay, His was of that vast extent,  
That oft he Pardoned the Impenitent.   

VI  
But as Ten Thousand scattered Rays  
By Art are made to centre in one Glass;  
So all the Tenderness and Love  
Which in his heart did to His Subjects move,  
First on his Royal Brother fell, and through him did pass.  
Not fearing loss of Empire, or of Life▪  
When high Born JAMES was with his Foes at strife;  
When Saucy, Factious Senates menaced high,  
And blushed not to decry  
The Crown's Just Heir and truest Friend to Monarchy;  
Our KING close to his BROTHERS Inter'st stood,  
And stemmed the Impetuous Flood:  
To the dire Project soon he put an end,  
And showed himself not more a Monarch, than a Friend.  
Friendship like this the World did never know,  
Save what the King of Heaven did show,  
Who for our sakes, descending here below,  
Ceased to be happy, that we might be so.   

VII.  
How dear to Heaven its Champion was, our Prince,  
(Who did so well defend the Crown  
And Faith which he received from thence,  
The Public Weal peferring to his own,)  
Let the long chain of Miracles convince,  
Though Fiends and Fiend-like-men combined in one;  
That destined, brought, and kept him on his Throne;  
Witness that shining Herald, sent  
To tell the World of his Illustrious Birth,  
As if kind Heaven had hereby meant  
Another God is Born on Earth!  
At Noon we saw the new Born Star  
Shine on his Infant Brother here,  
With a mild Aspect, yet so bright and clear,  
As did outvie the Midday Sun,  
As far as He Himself all other Kings has done.   

VIII.  
And when Rebellion black and dire  
Had harassed long his Godlike SIRE;  
Whose Life it barbarously took away,  
Of all things Great and Holy made a Prey;  
And turned Three Kingdoms into one Aceldama:  
Our late (ah wretched word!) our Heav'n-loved KING,  
Kind Providence did wondrously convey,  
And sheltered him beneath its Wing,  
From all the ills which War and Chance,  
And Treasons blacker than the Night;  
Did long against his Sacred Life advance,  
Witness his happy escape from Wor'ster's bloody Fight:  
Where Hovering Angels with their mighty shield  
Saved Him from all the Hazards of that dreadful Field;  
And their important Charge, by ways unknown, conveyed,  
And in a Neighbouring friendly shade,  
Where sturdy Oaks stretched out their Arms on high,  
(Oh shame to Man's Barbarity!)  
To shelter and receive distressed MAJESTY;  
Witness O Boscobel, thy Monumental Tree.   

IX.  
From thence through Dangers numberless,  
In mighty wants and deep distress  
At home, abroad, by Land and Seas,  
(As once his high famed Ancestor, the wand'ring Trojan Prince)  
By many a wondrous Providence,  
During his Nine years' Exile hence,  
Heaven its regard of Him did evidence,  
When the Almighty King, to show his care  
Of such as his Vicegerents are;  
When Humane Force could do no more, and when  
Our dying Hopes could ebb no lower;  
Did by a Turn Miraculous restore  
Our King to us, us to our King again.  
To bring which blessed work to pass,  
Neither Man's Power nor Policy had place;  
No Contract made, nor blows were given;  
The astonished World saw 'twas the mighty work of Heaven.   

X.  
A Prince so loved at home, and feared abroad;  
Wise as an ANGEL, Generous as a GOD;  
Though calmly settled on a lofty Throne,  
Was not above the reach of Envious Lookers-on:  
Which made him stand in need of heavens high Patronage,  
(And what he needed, still he had,)  
To save his Crown and Person from the Rage  
Of Men with too much Ease grown Mad.  
Witness those Plots, the Factions fruitful Womb  
So oft conceived, though still in vain,  
Against their Gracious Sovereign:  
Where often the Discoverer  
Played both the Fiend and Conjurer;  
Which by heavens care abortive still did come,  
And added to the wonders of his Reign;  
●aking his Throne as fixed and Glorious as his Wain.   

XI.  
When lo! the Prince, who seemed heavens chief Delight,  
It's Darling and its Favourite,  
His Midday Glories all full blown,  
How strangely are they withered! oh! how soon!  
But what Heaven raised, Heaven only can lay down.  
Low as Earth, this Favourite of the Most High is come;  
And all his scattered Trophies serve but to adorn his Tomb.  
But why no Prodigy at all?  
No Beacon-Comet fired above?  
No Monstrous Births, no storms, no Whale,  
Or to presage Great CHARLES thy fall,  
Or to attend thy Funeral?  
Which Nature's Fright might show, and Mankind's wonder move.  
Why (since a wondrous Star Proclaimed his Birth,)  
Did not as wondrous an Eclipse foretell his leaving Earth?  
Must Godlike Kings like Puny Mortals die?  
Must CHARLES the most August  
Be meanly crumbled like Plebeian dust?  
Why dealest thou with thy Anointed thus, O King of Princes! why?   

XII.  
But while thus ravingly I spoke,  
With a strange Horror I was struck,  
Which dimmed my eyes, loosened my joints, and chilled my Blood;  
Before me straight a visionary somewhat stood;  
Whose Form I could not well discern;  
Perhaps the Genius of the place,  
Or some such Airy Image 'twas;  
Of Stature tall, clad in Blue Mists, his Visage stern  
Which with an angry hollow Tone  
Thus stopped me—  
Shall mortal Wight dare to reprove,  
Or Pry into Affairs above?  
The Prince whose Death you so bemoan,  
Was he not the Almighty's Loan?  
Who only has recalled what was his own.  
His awful Mien and Heavenly eyes,  
Which made all Hearts his Votaries;  
His Soul so soft, yet truly Great,  
His Mind so clear, and so sedate,  
Proved well his Extract from the Skies.   

XIII.  
With milder accent, and a gentler look,  
The Phantôm (now less frightful) farther spoke.  
Then if your much Lamented King  
So Good and Amiable was,  
Why would you have some dreadful thing  
The Calmness of his Reign Deface?  
Let Tyrants and Usurpers have  
Sea-Monsters, and Rough Hurricanes,  
Foretell their Death, and dig their Grave,  
Such Prodigies suit well their Reigns;  
Comets have still a noisy end,  
But calmly does the Sun descend;  
Or if you must have Prodigies,  
Think of the Nations weeping eyes,  
The truest and most moving Elegies:  
In Halcyon-days your Dovelike Prince was Born,  
Which did with him return;  
His Realms five Lustres have Peace's white Livery worn;  
Living, He Peace bestowed on every side,  
Kept all in Peace, and Peaceably He died.   

XIV.  
It scarce had spoke; when lo! a sudden Thunder  
(For such at first it did appear)  
Shaked the thin Shade a sunder;  
Which straight dissolved into its Primitive Air.  
From the cold Turf I quickly raised my head,  
The City soon I reached helped with the wings of fear;  
But my old Grief and Fright soon changed into new wonder:  
When what I took for Thunder's noise,  
A Second Peal informed me was the Cannon's Roaring Voice;  
Which led me to a Loyal Crowd,  
That with just Triumph did Proclaim  
With joyful shouts, and Acclamations loud,  
A New KING'S Title and Imperial Name.  
Amazed at this so easy change, I said,  
May this Prodigious shout strike all his Enemies dead;  
Long, and as this day Peaceful, be his Reign,  
And may his Godlike Brother live in him again.   

XV.  
Poets, of Old, were Prophets deemed,  
And if they now were such esteemed,  
(And who knows but they may?)  
If our predicting Rhyme;  
May lucky Omens prove to after times;  
And, that some good may be presaged from Names;  
Then would I boldly Say,  
These Realms are doubly blest in that of JAMES.  
Great Britain's Glory did Commence  
When the First JAMES did to the whole give Law:  
He Joined the Kingdoms, and derived from thence  
That long white Row of Peaceful years our happy Fathers saw.  
The Second JAMES, by heavens Decree,  
Will the Great Healer of our Breaches be.  
And as his Wisdom gives our Fears Relief,  
So will his Mercy cure our Public Grief;  
Well-skilled he is in all his Royal Grandsire's Arts,  
Who joined both Crowns, as he will join all Hearts,  
May Heaven fulfil and own the Prophecy.  
But Ireland, sure, above the rest  
In that Auspicious Name is doubly blest:  
For while the Royal JAMES the English Crown does wear,  
And ORMOND'S Noble JAMES remains His Viceroy there,  
England and Ireland shall no more have cause for Grief or Fear.    

UPON THE DEATH Of our most Excellent Sovereign King CHARLES, And the Happy Succession of His HEROIC BROTHER KING JAMES.  By Sir F. F. K 't of the Bath. 
INdulgent Nature has so well designed  
The Shifting Scenes of Tragical Mankind,  
That on the Confines of the Cloudiest Grief  
Breaks out a Splendid joy, to give Relief;  
Lest every Gust of Passion should overturn  
Th' unsteady Vessels: thus we Laugh, and Mourn;  
Our Charming'st Pleasures languish into Pains,  
And Floods of Grief, voluptuous Weep drains.  
The Thrifty Gods sell their great Blessings dear;  
And CHARLES must vanish to let JAMES appear:  
Too Glorious Lights to shine in the same Sphere.  
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.  
THE Vision: A Pindaric Ode: Occasioned by the Death of our Late Sovereign King CHARLES the Second, by Edm. Arwaker, M. A.  
Are all Three to be Sold by Henry Playford near the Temple-Church.