An HEROIC POEM ON THE Observator.  
— His mens generosa moveri,  
Accendique solet similem ad virtutis amorem.  Claud. 
LONDON: Printed by J. Streater, for H. Million, Living in St. Pauls-Chain, Stationer. MDCLXXXV.   

AN Heroic Poem ON THE OBSERVATOR.  

WHen by the Justice of Divine Decree,  
Great Exiled CHARLES, with Godlike Majesty,  
Resumed his Injured Throne; and thence once more,  
Our banished Blessings Caesar did restore;  
The easy Laws reclaimed the giddy Throng,  
And Haltion Years then smoothly danced along,  
Such firm secureness on each Face appeared,  
The Sword of Justice was more Loved then feared,  
'Twas now, that all the fierce Grandees of Hell,  
(Enraged to see their late raised Machine fell)  
Issued new Summons to their aged States,  
To frame fresh Projects by their black Debates,  
And once again by their Infernal Wile,  
Ransack the Glories of our happy Isle;  
Long this Divan, in consult brooding Sat,  
To hatch the Embri'o of malicious Fate;  
At length each Fury had his Charge apart,  
And dismal Scheamst ' assist their powerful Dart:  
The Work began; and the Invading Host,  
Wrapped in dark Mists approached the Brittish-Coast;  
Whose Guardian Angel, soon with watchful Eyes,  
Descried th' Intent of such a base Surprise.  
With quick expanded wings from Heaven fled,  
And darting came to good L'ESTRANGE'S Bed.  
That LOYAL BARD who was alone thought fit,  
To stem the Torrent of a Devil's Wit,  
Whilst the bright Messinger his head sustained,  
His buissy Fancy thus he entertained.  
Thou best of Subjects, to the best of Kings;  
Hear now the Tidings, that an Angle brings;  
A Band of Fiends, from the Abiss are sent,  
To raise new Feuds from long hid Discontent.  
Though Princely Grace, has seemed to quench the Rage,  
Which late has stained the Anuals of your Age:  
The Embers yet, fanned by this Hellish Crew,  
In rapid Flames will soon break forth a new.  
Rise then and stop the progress of the Foe,  
Kind Heaven has chose you to divert the blow;  
With that his balmy Plumes extending forth,  
He kindly grasped so true entrinsick Worth:  
Then touched his Tongue with a Celestial Dew,  
Blest the Event, and swiftly upwards flew;  
Soon the good Man awoke, and pondering weighed  
The deep impressions, which the Vision made;  
Not Unobserved before, by his Dread Pen,  
Had 'scaped remarks of base ungrateful Men;  
He saw the Tracts in which they warily crept,  
He saw't (and for their  Folly wept)  

He saw the Gloss of every weak Pretence  
Drawn forth to shroud the Bulk of their Offence,  
And blind the People's Rash Unthinking Sense.   
Straight then he risen, and with Profectick Skill  
Sure to disperse the gathered boding Ill,  
Fled to his Prince with quick and zealous Care,  
And thus employed his Royal Master's Ear.   

Heaven Bless the KING—  
Still lives the Seed of that Gigantic Race,  
That did attempt the Godhead to displace,  

Their impious hands, but late they did imbrue  
In Royal Martyr's Blood, and now pursue,  
Their brutish Rage, against Indulging YOU.   
Strange is the guilt of that pernicious mind,  
That dares conspire against a Prince so kind.  
With feigned Chimaeras they amuse the Throne,  
And seem to watch what they assault alone.  
A guarding shield is reached in friendly show,  
By the same Hand that means to give the Blow;  
Trust not the Service of Phanatick-zeal,  
The worst of Crimes, draws a Religious Veil.  
This said: The Monarch with a smiling Look,  
Close to his Bosom the Great Prophet took.  
Told him with Grateful thanks, he did approve,  
Th' apparent Candour, of his Active Love,  
Bade him prepare to countermine that Spite,  
That's laid to spring the Bulwark of his Right,  
That on his Judgement, he did most rely,  
Best to defeat the daring Enemy;  
Bade him make known, the Cheat of clamorous Fears,  
And Charm the deafness of deluded Ears.  
When thus L'ESTRENGE, had his Commission given,  
(The King confirming the assigned of Heaven)  
Entered the Lists, and Boldly did Oppose,  
The joint Attaque of all his Monarch's Foes.  
Convincing Reason, was his Gorgen-sheild,  
And steadfast LOYALTY this Champion's Field.  
With Volleys of his Wit, their Phalanx Rent,  
And Dagon fell with Potent Argument  
Let's now erect a Due Triumphal Arch,  
Whilst Troops of Flamens shall attend his March,  
And then Ye Muse's all in consort join,  
Thus whilst we pay, our Offerings at his Shrine.   

HAIL Matchless HE! HAIL our Auspicious Guide,  
The Clergy's Darling, and the States-men's Pride;  
The happy Patriot, whose industrious Care,  
Has quelled that Storm, which boundless did Appear,  
That never was a Calm till now, or means more dear.  
When Faction did like a Contagion spread,  
On you the Nation leaned its drooping Head,  
Who next the Throne, such Sovereign deeds did do,  
An age of Miracles revived in You,  
From You its Peace, must Grateful England date,  
Blessed Esculapius of the salved State,  
Who wrought that Cure, which seem opposed by Fate.  
In vain would Rebels Piously disguise,  
Their black Designs or longer cheat our eyes,  
Their guilded Cavils, now false Lights are known,  
And all their Specious Pop'lar sham's overthrown,  
Whilst your profounder reasons gain these odds,  
Like Aaron's swallowing up th' Egyptians Rods.   

HAIL OBSERVATOR! Genius of our Age,  
That stood the shock, of the Fanatic Rage,  
Like Oedipus so Sacred now to all,  
You saved your Country, with these Sphynxes' Fall,  
Who view your Conquests, with despairing Eyes,  
To see us flourish, and You gain the Prize,  
Yet Eneyed self, must give you this applause,  
Never was better Pen, or better Cause.   

HAIL once more our Palladium of defence,  
Great Oracle of Wit and Eloquence,  
The truly fit to speak a Nations sense.  
Our English Tully who has still prevailed,  
Your Pen succeeded where the Sword has failed;  
Your Weighty Lines still such Impressions took,  
Not more the Voice, which from Mount Sinai spoke:  
When stubborn Jews upon their Faces fell,  
Submitting strait, who did before Rebel.   

Hence seem the Furies now of discord fled,  
Whilst you appear a Cherub at our Head;  
This does security to our Peace afford,  
Your Wits as dreadful as the Flaming Sword.   
FINIS.