CHARLES 2. By the Grace of GOD King of England, Scotland, France and Ireland. portrait of Charles II LACHRIMAE sive Valedictio SCOTIAE Sub Discessum. Clarissimi prudentissimi & pientissimi GUBERNAOTRIS DOMINI GEORGII MONACHI In ANGLIAM Revocati. Authore Gulielmo Moorehead Nou. Coll. Oxon Soc. THE TEARS And Valediction of SCOTLAND Upon the departing of her Governor, the Lord General GEORGE MONCK: And London's welcome Reception of his Excellency, For being instrumental in the bringing home our Gracious Sovereign Lord King CHARLES the Second. LONDON, Printed by H. Brugis, living at the Sign of the Sir john Oldcastle in Pie-corner, for the Author, 1660. In victissimo Monarchae CAROLO Secundo Deo Gratia Magnae Britanniae, Franciae, & Hiberniae Regi, Fidei Defensori, etc. BEllipotens, delapse Polo! nostri Hannibal Aevi Caesaridum, Quo Te Caesare, Caesar hebet, Cui Laudum consurgit Apex, & onusta Trophaeis Gloria, finitimis facta tremenda plagis. Nostri Atlas ter magne Orbis! cui Robur in Armis Inque Animis, geminos subdere posse polos. Regnorum, Mundique Tremor! Quid plura? modesta Fronte, capit Laudes Mens generosa suas. Indulge, O! Vestras strepitu si turbet olivas Musa Caledonii nata sub axe poli. Quoque ali●● Tu Sole soles hilarare, trementem Me me hilara radiis (Candide Phoebe) Tuis Dum Cunctis mansuetus ades? num forte repellat Tristis ab obtuitu (CAROLE Magne) Tuo Comprime Te, Numenque Tuum, dum nostra recurrat, Ne nimio Vestri Numine, Musa perit, Majestatis vestrae servus Humilis & devotissimus, GU. MOOR HEAD N. C. S. To the Most High and Mighty Monarch CHARLES the Second, by the Grace of God King of Great Britain, France and Ireland, Defender of the Faith, etc. Heaven's potent Champion; our times Hannibal! Cesar, his Trophies, must to Yours, let fall. Such Praise, and Triumphs do adorn your Fame, That foreign Countries tremble at your Name. Great Atlas of our Orb! whose armed Might, And power o'er Minds, can both the Poles affright; The World, and Kingdoms fear! What more? brave Souls Their Praises with contracted brows controls. If my poor Muse, born in a Northern Clime, Disturb your Laurel, pardon (Sir) the crime; You, who alone (like Phoebus) vigour give, Inspire me with your beams, and I shall live. Shall I (Great CHARLES) be banished from Your sight, Whose Clemency all things to You invite? Draw in Your Glories, whilst I sing Your Praise, Lest my Muse perish by Your Godlike Rays. The Effigies of his Excellency GEORG MONCK Gen: of all the Forces in England Scotland & Ireland and General at Sea &c: ●. Gaywood fecit P Sto●t excud: portrait of George Monk LACHRIMAE sive Valedictio SCOTIAE Sub Discessum. Clarissimi prudentissimi & pientissimi GUBERNATORIS DOMINI GEORGII MONACHI In ANGLIAM Revocati. Authore Gulielmo Moorehead Nou. Coll. Oxon Soc. THE TEARS And Valediction of SCOTLAND Upon the departing of her Governor, the Lord General GEORGE MONCK: And London's welcome Reception of his Excellency, For being instrumental in the bringing home our Gracious Sovereign Lord King CHARLES the Second. LONDON, Printed by H. Brugis for the Author, 1660. Excellentissimo Clarissimo et Prudentissimo Domino, Domino GEORGIO MONCK Exercituum Magnae Britanniae & Hyberniae Generali. UR bis & Orbis Amor, dis Candide, Gentis Avitae Delitiae, & Patriae cara Medela tuae. Fama Tui attonitum cum repleat inclyta Mundum? Nostra ne, erit Famae Buccina, Musa, Tuae? Spirat Hyperboreis tanto te Praeside terris, Et resonat Factis terra Britanna tuis. Primus in Heroum numero spectabere, Primus Restrinxtique Armis Arma superba Tuis, Quum calida haec premeret Lamberti factio Regna RUM Puntur vestra, vincula nostra manu. Eheu! praecipites ruimus discordibus Armis, In diversa trahunt Ambitio, Ira, Dolus. In vetitum trahimur, damnosaque poscimns Arma Tu mira sanas soecla Machaon ope. Praelia quis Te plura iniit tam Marte secundo? Quis Te Virtute, aut Nobilitate prior? Robore, Mente, Animis ingens, ingentior ausis. Quem tibi, quem de lerint saecula prisca parem? Schismatici frustra Arma petunt, coelumque minantur Eraenati, cunctis tu satis unus eris. Sat mihi te tanto coram prodire Patrono; Sat mihi me vestro posse sub orbe legi. Te sequor usque libens; haec Tecum Pignora dextrae; Hancque Animam Patriae do, voveoque meae. Quod si ino pina meis surgat laus ulla Camaenis, Sola erit in laudes attribuenda tuas. Istaque si nostrae placeant primordia Musae, Haecque repentinis carmina scripta sonis, Restat Opus quo (Te invito) formidine pulsa Ebibet Oceanum Musa benigna tuum. Romani Arma gerunt, subnixi viribus Orbis, Vires Arma Orbis, dextera sola tua Romanam ut Fabius cunctando Restituit REM Sic Auctor Patriae Pacis es, atque Pater. Des divina Deo, tua serves, sint sua REGI, Cuique suum tribuens, sic tibi surgat honos Accipe Wickhamici clara ex Antistitis Aedde Exigui ingenii Pignora cara Mei. V. E. ex fratre amantissimo Nepotis & servi addictissimi, Gulielmi Moorehead novi Coll. Soc. To his Excellency George Monck, Lord General of all the Forces of England, Scotland, and Ireland. THE World and City's Joy, of God and Man Beloved, thy countries' dear Physician. When all the Earth doth Trophies to You raise, Why should my Muse not trumpet out your praise? Scotland of such a Precedent doth boast, Your deeds are Echoed round our British coast: Amongst the Hero's you deserve to be Ranked first, who first did conquer Tyranny, When Lambert's Faction plagued us more and more, You dockt the RUMP, and turned them out of door: Alas! we're headlong into discord hurled. Pride, Anger, and Deceit inflames the World; Whilst old sores bleed afresh, and rage abounds, You (like Machaon) heal our gaping Wounds. What man e'er drew a Sword with such success? Who is like you in worth and nobleness? Great in your strength, and spirit, greater fare In bold Attempts; who can with you compare? In vain fanatics take up Arms, since you Alone suffice their Armies to subdue. I'm satisfied, if these lines may before My Patron come; but hououred if read o'er. Upon your Lordship, willingly I wait, And thus my countries' Genius dedicate. If my poor Muse gain unexpected Bays, I'll render back to you alone the praise. If these beginnings of our Poetry (Written in haste) unto you pleasing be, A Work remains, wherein (against your will) My Muse her salies shall at your Ocean fill. With the whole world the Romans did contend, Your right hand only doth the Globe defend. Fabius' Cunctation did restore the Thing; You bring us peace in bringing home the King. Glory to God, to Caesar his due give, To each his own, and your Fame long shall live. From Bishop Wickhams' Famous College sent These lines I to your Lordship do present. LACHRIMAE Sive Valedictio SCOTIAE SIc vario Rectore ferar? Scotiae expostulatio. nunquamne recurret Dulce favens nostrae stabilis constantia sorti? Fortunae sio ludus eam? velut icta rotatu Assiduo tenues vorsum pila fertur in auras; Concussae cui nulla quies? sic usque sereno Obveniet nox atra meo? vicibusque sinistris Turbida Solstitium tenebrabunt nubila nostrum? Tantisper stabili sic O! viduata Magistro, Haec mea caeruleo jactabitur Insula Nereo? Nec constans Palinurus erit? Semperne phacelus Trita tot oppositis distendet Carbasa ventis? Sic teritur varioque (a) Scotia. Chelys tot pollice torpens Rauca tot attonito diffundet murmura mundo, Discordi stridore crepans! miserere Sororis Regnorum vos diva (b) Anglia. tremor? cui tanta recumbunt Imperia, & nostri moles quota, quanta Colossi Barbitos en rigidis quondam temerata choraulis (Triste sub Arcadicis postquam increpuisset asellis) Dulce quid ô nostris, post tot modo rauca colonis, Te Moncho modulante dedit, quo Preside plectrum Extima divino rapuit confinia cantu; Desuper hic Coelo tandem delapsus ab alto Dux mihide pulso successit Orione, Per Orion subinnuit pristinos reges, aut gubernat. natores Arion,. Flexanimi oppositas resonando pectine chordas. Dumque coaxantes avido de gutture Ra●as, Grassantes olim per pascua nostra cicadas, Summus Atlas nostris postquam heu! expulsus ab oris. Scilicet hunc dulcem mihi tandem indultus olorem Hic equidem mihi primus olor, mihi primus Arion Concinuit perdulce melos, plectroque retenso Torpida tripudiis stimulavit viscera laetis. Nec mora divino tandemque Monachius aestro Arte, & Marte, potens parili, Semonis adempti, Scandit ovans tumulos successor Orionis, Orpheus Invehitur, Regimenque subit, Cytharaeque remissae Fila repentino passim discordia raptu Harmonicis sociando sonis, modulamine miro Arboreos de sede choros, fluviosque, ferasque, Saxeaque Angelico perrupit pectora cantu, Praeside quo Stigii tremuere umbrosa Tyranni Limina, suspirans imo de corde Megaera Ingemuit, torvas spectans truculenta sorores; Et caudam tumido sub ventre recondidit ingens Cerberus attonitas stimulans ululatibus umbras, Commotusque niger Cocytus inhorruit antris, Et vaga Sisypheis haeserunt saxa lacertis: Nec tamen hic rapti successor Orionis, Orpheus Quem canimus, meritoque ducem depingimus ostro; Diversum intentabat iter, sed passibus aequis Institit; egregios complendo fortiter ortus; Grandiaque insumpti lustrans primordia pensi, Magnanimosque ausus, intentatosque labores, Gnaviter abrepti pressit vestigia Divi. Macte Animi Generose Atlas! nova gloria nostri Orbis, & ad seros fama O! ventura nepotes Nec precor O! justas dubites agnoscere laudes! Te licet invito celebro, da velle; canoris Si non posse modis meriti sublimia vestri Culmina tanta, humili nobis contingere pulsu. O liceat (digno si non te ornare Cothurno) At mihi praelustri saltem me ornare sereno Solstitii per cuncta tui? da cernere flammas Lucentesque globos, & vestri sydera coeli Ignea, luminibus procul avertentia vestris: Da Scotiae dux ultro sequi? da dicere nostri Eversorem Erebi, propulsoremque ruinae, Te solum & nostras Phoebum expulsisse tenebras Gratius & nostro qua nemo beatius unquam Laetitia demulsit Ebur; non si ipse superbus De Delpho jam jamque suo redivivus Apollo Surgeret, & digitis plectrum pulsaret eburnis. Nec tamen hic vanis praeconia vendere ventis, Mens mihi, vel falso indigitem depingere Fuco; Ipsa quidem so li virtus sibi sufficit, omni Pieridum, vatumque obductu purior ostro: Sat radiis ditata suis: mens celsa potentem Sponte facit, dignumque suo Diademate virtus; Tale tenes meriti spatium, ut mortalia supra Ingenito assurgas Genio, virtutibus, omni Dote Animi, quem si Semonem prisca tulissent Saecula Romanis quondam stupefacta Triumphis Ausonium intrasses Roma ad plaudente Tribunal Primus, & haud alio stabilis sub Caesare Consul. Aut si te Phrygeo Danaae sub littore classes Vidissent, Danai tacuissent Nestora, vates. Nec tamen haec vestras metitur Caledonia laudes; Nititur aut meriti rimarier ostia vestri; Sed mage mellifluos satagens mirarier alveos Luxuriet, fuso sese ebrietate liquore. Quo feror o dum tanta fero? quorsum impete vano Mens mihi per moles discurrit sedula magnas, Plus semper quo quaerit habens? non si mihi centum Ora sonent, totidemque uno de gutture linguae, Aoindesque juvent; non si mihi semper adesset Eloquii oceanus, spirant praecordia Phaebo, Si mihi vel dederint coelestia dona Diones, Ingentes valeam Monckei Praesidis actus Enumerare, meoque amplecti singula cantu. Sed dolor heu! Introductio ad discessum Monachi. dum prona ruo, dumque inclyta nostris jam modo Monckei surgebat adorea rythmis Triste quod O! streperis superingerit invida plectris Sors vicibus male fida suis, nervisque remissis Flectit ebur lugubre sonans: sic omnia caeca Commiscet fortuna manu, petulantior Euro Stare loco nescit, variasque induta figuras Splendida, nunc tetra est, nunc turbida, nocte peerrans Ludit in humanis nunquam non lubrica rebus. Quem modo blandentis subridens gratia sortis Lenimen, lumen, columen, numenque labenti Dulce dedit, tantis successibus aemula raptum Intulit, & nostros nobis subduxit Amores. Imperii fuerat Romani Scotia limes At nunc ter faelix tanto gaudere Patrono, Ac Regni qui fraena sui justo ordine centum, Et Septem Regum viginti saecula retro Faelici rexere manu, queis gloria solis N on interruptam seriem tenuisse regendi Et non externos unquam timuisse furores. Ecqua (per O) nostras Metamorphosis involat oras! Sic facies transversa poli est? mundine dehiscit Fabrica? sic septem Borea sub parte Triones Permiscent pelago lachrymas? sic prisca Bootes Plaustra fugit? Num prisca Helyces custodia pernox Negligitur? Num prisca lyrae modulamina nostrae Pressa silent rabido damnosi vulturis aestu Nec pelago dent laeta meo? Proh tristia Scoti Auguria, & subiti portentum immane Comaetae! Nec mirum; Coeline ruant convexa, remoto Vique Atlantiaca? tantine operosa Colossi Machina Olympifero ruet in sua pristina raptu? Quetela Scotiae. Dii mihi! numne meo lux haec sit praebita coelo Ut subito rapiatur, erit? sic luditur? & sic Gliscit in expleto furor implacabilis aestro? Satne datum vicibus? sic, O sic usque retrorsum? Vortet praecipites levis inconstantia currus. Satne precor Ruptura prior, sed & altera, Nobis Tristior obveniet? Satne ô Mihi a Carolo 2. ARIONE adempto. Me nuper plexisse, & sic spoliasse (merentem Forsitan, & tanti indignum solamine Divi) Satne Mihi haec jactura gravis? sed & insuper ORPHEO Abrepto, rigidi geminantur fulmina fati? Vivimus! an nigro miseri concessimur Orco? Quod scelus! unde ira Superum! Pro dira Sororum Pensa! nec in tantos quondam ingeniosa furores; Scilicet O tanto cur me sic sternitis ictu Numina; in hoc lugubri nimium crudelia raptu. Sic Numerus sumus, & viles contemnimur umbrae, Degeneresque Animae, vicibus hinc inde sinistris jugiter assiduo fatorum turbine raptae, An precor Aethereas me me evexistis in arces Ut lapsu graviore ruam? nuperne dedistis Spem Mihi, concessam lubet O sic sorte reversa Tollere, & in veter●●me praecipitare ruinas? Huc Nemesis Furiaeque pares! da sugere in iras Da versus Mihi Phoebe truces, tristesque querelas Fundere, sollicitis Dominumque reposcere votis. Insanire lubet (quid enim manifesta negemus, Saepe quidem insano pietas prorumpit ab ●●stu;) Fas Mihi fas Tecum furibundo cominus aestro. Diva Soli, Scotiae expostulatio cum Anglia Domitrixque Maris, formidine pulsa In lites certare pias, (nec enim improba si Te Fraterna Ratione premam) da surgere nostram Ante Rates causam, lachrimarumque imbre soluto, Heu nimium imparibus tecum contendere telis! Diva (per O) quorsum quorsum in dispendia nobis Commissum hoc nostris revocasti Numen ab oris? Ecquid enim, nunquid satius tibi tollere dona Quam donasse fuit, donatumque omine tristi Surripere, hoc fuerat nobis velut invida luctus? Anne quod O nostrae videaris ut aemula sorti? Anne quod Ipsa tui indigeas moderamine Divi? Suspicor hoc equidem, (nec enim delirat Aruspex Fatidicus) Memini, ah Memini, quod ab Ilice cornix Nescio raucidu his crocitans, praedixerat ipsis Sub primis Divi auspitiis, hunc nocte remota Affore, qui nostris Lucem importaret ab oris, Halcyonumque dies, atque insperata Colonis Gaudia, successusque hilares, & tempora votis Consona, sed subitis rapiendum ex inde quadrigis Ut rerum graviora ferat, Proh tristia Fati Auguria! nostris hodie completa querelis. O Dux Magne (licet Tecum sed poplite flexo, Scotix expostulatio cum Cubernatore Dom. Monacho. Nube sub hac rigidi mihi fas contendere fati) Fare agedum, O quis Te tanta in fastidia nobis Egit, et incaeptos crudel is rupit Amores? Ecquid io! credamne miser? vertigo cerebrum Num capit? an tanti vana sub imagine damni Stulta laboriferam deludunt somnia mentem? O exspes spes fluxa! quid O! quid abire paratis Illustres Animae! quorsum O dulcedine tanta, Sic radii placuere Tui, vultusque sereno Sole micans, vestrique hilaris praesentia coeli? Ecquid io! vix visus abis! tantumne licebat Adspicere, & vestro mentem exhilarare sub ortu Ostendendus ades nobis; tandemque Catervis Anglorum rapiendus eris? sic messe sub ipsa Conglomeras Te (Dive Tibi)! sic invide (verbo Heic veniam) Autumni juvat O tot grandia vestri Incrementa alios Tecum subducere in usus; Integra sic meriti faelix vindemia vestri (Te removente) Tuo furtim intumul abitur horreo? Nec dabitur Te pone sequi, spicasque cadentes Colligere, & vestros gustu vix prendere odores? Praemodicae quae causa morae! dic Dive coruscum Exeris occultando jubat? superingere causam Ocyus! & tantae fontem disclude repulsae! Num tenui quod sorte ferar, quodque infima fusas Tota circum videar gentes? quod grandibus ausis Virtuti multum inferior per singula vestrae Tale quod heic de Te num suspicer aemula? nostrum Cui merito pridem regimen subrisit! & ultra Mens (humili sub valle latens) contendere nunquam Pruriit! hac sola contentus sorte fuisses, In Te sublimes si non pia numina dotes, Ingentemque Animum rebus gravioribus aptum Vidissent, Tua Te Virtus, Probitasque, Fidesque Et Meriti sublimis Apex, Famaeque loquacis Impetus, invito nostris semovit ab arvis. O Animi (effusis nimium virtutibus) aucti Robur, & ingenii tanta in fastigia prompti Insita vis, supra Astra volans? O parcius in Te Blandula nectareos fudissent numina rores, Et Vires nostrae pariles tantummodo Genti! Sed (dolor heu) tanto se evacuavit acervo Prodiga sub vestris coeli Indulgentia cunis. Sed quid in hoc! streperis quorsum velut ebria Rythmis Numina, vesano juvat attemerare tumultu? Num Superos, num Fata querar; num praebita Divo Munera, tot dotesque Animi! temeraria fundit Verba miser quisquis caelestibus obstrepit Astris Nesoius? & recti Trutinam non pensat Olympi? Me querar Authorem potius; detur omine tristi Velle Mihi propriis in me confligere telis, Arguor heu coelo scelerum rea, spargitur aether Flagitiis hinc inde meis? meritoque flagello Rupturae (Dux Magne) Tuae, mihi terga dehiscunt, Verberor haud insons? dirum ac miserabile vitae Supplicium hoc, vestro fera fert & carmina raptu: Crimina cuderunt mihi tot discrimina, nostrum Triste nefas, vestro longe castroque remoto jamque movere ardet? vitiis pia numina nostris Horrendum commota fremunt, raptuque severo Te tandem nostris satagunt subducere terris. Nec tamen indomitis nostris removebere ab oris, Vel furtim ad patrios Tua Te vehet Argo Penates Prosequar, (& fari liceat) Te prosequar aestro Forsan Amatoris saevi sed semper Amoris Te contra insurgam stimulis haud mollibus, aucto Pondere, Te titulis, Te Mille onerabo Trophaeis Tantundem obsequio sic discruciabere nostro; Pondere terga gement vario, fusisque querelis Et precibus, Laudumque pari glomeramine misto, Invito Te Pompa premit, ruet improba Tecum, In Luctus, Laudesque pares, Gens integra flecti Impatiens renuensque regi; plexisque Corollis, Atque hedera, Lauruque, & quicquid tempora grati Veris habent, quicquid florum per pascua passim Suggerit, immiscens varios natura colores, Inclyta solenni decorabit Tempora cultu? Te quocunque Polus rapiat, per sicca, per undas, Dona per, & Meriti sublimia culmina vestri, Ibo comes, Patremque sequar, raptumque reposcam Auguriis, votisque premam; gremioque recondam Te totum; Absensque aderis Mihi semper; Amores Diminuet Sors nulla meos; ruat Orbis, Olympus Mole sua subito descendat in aequora lapsu, Cuncta licet medium fiant Mare, saeviat in me Transversis sors laeva rotis; memorabere praesens Mille per adversi stridentia fulmina fati, Triste licet languescit Ebur, nervisque refracti Serpat humi; (finis qui sitque ignara malorum) To tamen introrsum laesa diffundet ab alvo, Gestaque venturis memorabit mascula saeclis. Indulge O Tibi plure feram; datur O Mihi tandem Heic precibus 〈…〉 Spumea 〈…〉 Maesta 〈…〉 Mille sub 〈…〉 Dii Mihi 〈…〉 Meo 〈…〉 valedicere 〈◊〉 Cogar, & ex●●●●●os Pelago committere 〈…〉 Ecquid enim▪ dicam ne vale? 〈…〉 〈…〉 Te velle Vale demittere 〈…〉 〈…〉 Vale Tibi; sed Valedicere 〈◊〉 Pensat; & invito tantundem reddere ple●●ro, Cogitur infando, sic O sic undique zelo Rapta feror, titubatque Mihi Mens nescia quonam Flectit iter, tales Amor integer urget in Aestus Praecipitem, Raptusque Tui funebris Imago Involat, immemoremque Mei, per singula reddit. Quam lubuit dixisse (Redi) sed justa negoti Suspitio gravioris obest, exspemque repellit. Irrita ne refragos videar deposcere Divos, Et tamen, O dilecte, Vale! Vale! urget Orexis Obsequii, tantumque Tibi devovit Amoris Impetus, & Meriti Pietas sat conscia vestri. Quid moror! extremum dum sic Mihi Classica cantum Ingeminant, dum ipsa suis clangoribus Argo Aesonidem imperiosa vocet, Consurge catervis Ocyus O gens fusa Tuis, glomeramine facto Magnates, Proceresque, & Gens trabeata Quiritum, Curia quos, vel Rostra tenent, vel Pulpita fundunt Sacra Sacerdotes, vel quos Edina ministrat, (Insignes pietate patres) facto Agmine primi Sollennes ducant Choreas, Bellona Phalanges Evocet, & longa secum trahat agmina pompa: Agmina migrantem circumtectura Magistrum Pone ruat Plebs prona, suo solitoque tumultu Sit strepor, & fuso paulum data copia vulgo, Sic stupeat stupor ipse hodie, descendat Olympus Spectando, excitus studio dum talia nostris (Heu nimium properata) patent spectacula terris. Interea ignivomis suprema palatia nimbis Grande tonent; fuso globulorum grandine, tellus Icta tremat; stupefacta imis in vallibus Eccho Evigilet, sonituque pari responsa remittat; In flammas sic aether eat, sic percita late Compita, sulphureis clarescant plena favillis; Et solito Scloppis paulum de more solutis, Horridus ardentes miles vertatur in ignes; Obsequio flagrans humili, devotaque tanto Thura Duci, faustumque Vale per fulmina fundat. Tandem clara sua Dalkethea reddit ab Aula Triste salutandum populo; Patremque Ducemque Gentis, consuetoque cubilia Numine plena Sic O mole sua (per murmura, perque Triumphos, Per Luctus, Laudesque pares; perque hostica Amoris Tela; per applausus tristes, per mille susurras; Per desiderii flammas; per fulmina Zeli; Plana per, anfractusque pares, atque invia rerum; Seque per O Ipsum pariter, per viscera contra Se sua, crudelem Domìni damnantia raptum, Mille per ingenita, & sibi mansuetudinis aestus, Mille per oppositas Animi dubitabilis undas, Fusaque tantarum per tot discrimina rerum, Secum multa Animo (nostris graviora) revolvens Procedat fusa Phaenix ad littora pompa. Quo te agis O lasciva Chelys? per nubila saepe Fit jubar, & tenebris lux emicat alma sub ipsis! Triste piis nil essediu; conceditur, arcu Seposito, Cytharam tandem Pater urget eburnam; Extremum perpende Vale, dum littora Phaenix Vestra premit, streperis paulum desiste querelis; Et Patris infandas heic imbibe laeta loquelas. Gens tantas perpesa vices! Oratio D. Monachi ad Scotos. Fatique protervis Usque adeo subjecta rotis! tot trita sinistris Aestubus, & circumfusi glomeramine Ponti In cumulum contracta tuum, vix insula (damni Oceanum dum trano tui) tamen Insula, nostrae Es soror, invictis pridem commissa Britannis, Gens raptu commota meo! quorsum aegra furores Nec quicquam, & varios dispergis in aethera quaestus? Signantur decreta poli! Sententia Divum De reditu stat firma meo, (sic lumina rore Tersit in hoc tumebunda pio) stans adspice castrum Quo vehar, & vestris actutum abducorab oris, Me supra est, qui Regna rotat, cui publica nostri Tota Orbis res prona subest: parere paratum Me viden? & subter tanto Omnipotente Ministrum Morigerum, vestris qui me nunc evocat oris Arbitrio, Nutuque suo; Qui Me tibi pridem Miserat, & triplicae Gentis dominatur habenas, Me, me alio jam jamque vocat; nec constat, an inde (Pondere supposito hoc) longe graviora supersint Hisce humeris subeunda meis? Det Robur Olympi Rector, & aequales in tanta negotia vires! Atque equidem hoc quanto per tot discrimina nisu Vestra meis suffulta humeris sit Scotica moles; Testor in hoc circumfusas hinc inde catervas. Illicet (& fateor, laudis procul absit inanis Gloria, dum memoro) cultu meliore nitescit Barbiton, & nostra solito modulantius arte Dictat Epos, Numeris (fateor) non undique rectis, Fila suis stant aequa locis: latet anguis in herba Intus adhuc, tacita nonnulla coaxat in alvo Rana crepans, removenda minis, quae Schismate facto Laxat in oppositos discordia fila furores; Illicet haec Lerna est, vestris damnosa colonis, In qua centenis dominatur hiatibus Hydra, Hydra recens obitu, validis cui nulla sagittis Vis potis indomito si non a Carolus 2. TYRINTHIUS ausu Semideus, rabidum ferro, & pice comprimat Anguem, Dedecus hoc vestris abolere penatibus; ardor Me meus adversum stimulis agitabat acutis. Sed me alio Superi, Remoramque injecerat ausis Summus b Car. 2. Atlas, cui Me pridem meaque omnia vovi. Ne tamen interea tanti contemptor Amoris, Aut videar vestris altum Valedicere Rebus; Laeta Canam; nostro Gens O sic turbida raptu! Te tamen O! Te tolle hilarem; nova gaudia vestris Insperata ruant Animis; Absentia c Per Phaehum subinnuit adventum Caroli Regis. Phaebo Nostra Novo reparanda patet, desudat Olympus In curam, Columenque tuum? properantius instans Huc nostri sub Nocte abitus, Aurora quadrigis Accelerat faustumque Tibi propendet in Ortum, Nuncia venturi post tot modo tetrica Phaebi Soecla CALEDONIAE promittit & aurea Genti Dixit! & Eloquio sic per compendia fu so Pacati assensere poli, fusisque catervis Tranquillum rediere Animi, perque agmina late Murmur iit: rupto veluti cum spumeus alveo Arva super gratos emittit Nilus acervos: Ebr ia luxuriant sata, (quondam mortua) valles Tripudiant, pictos promittunt pascua flores: Ocyus applausu circumstans turmaque tanto Percita, sulphureos sese inflammavit in ignes! Ascensu lasciva suo; sic undique rerum jucundae exultant facies, torp reremoto Dulcia sub tristem renovantur gaudia raptum. Ista inter dum sic violenta aspergine pectus Curarum spumabat aquis, aestuque fremebat Tota vario postquam sese evacuasset Amore, Discedens Scotiae tandem Dux Maximus, Arma Max capit, & vocis resonantia murmura tantae cunctamine presso Pertaesam querulamque morae, Gentemque salutans, Desiliit sublimis equo, Mollia suaveolam porrexit ad oscula dextram, Tum vero infremuere Animi, tacitusque per artus Horror iit, subito vulgi pia pectora bellis Plena tument, tumidos Amor aemulus urget honores, Et luctus celeres ciet in certamina laudes, Bella intus sibi quisque movet; nunc haesitat; & nunc Fidus ovat, dum spectat iter, desperat; at inde Dum jubar, en Phaebi lustrat venientis, abortam Spem fovet, & tantis spondet sibi laeta sub umbris. Sic ubi forte viro vastum super Aequor ituro (Ad sua transtra ratis, scisso redit Anchora fundo) Haeret amica uxor, certatque innectere collo Brachia, manantesque oculos atque oscula turbat Vastacaligo maris, retinet mora nulla paratum, Ipsa quidem vano necquicquam numine questu Sollicitat, sponsumque tonat sibi remige verso Actutum furibunda dari; sicque irrita late Verba vomens, Patrios dolet increbrescere ventos, Et faustum vix optat iter; sed & optat, & ardet; Ardet Amor, longo fugientia Carbasa visu Dulce sequi; variasque sibi movet anxia curas. Stat tamen, & notam puppim de rupe salutat Turbida, ter geminoque Vale, Vale, urget euntem. Sic tandem (vix sponte suos repetenda penates) Orba licet Domino, charo tamen aucta Pupillo Spiranti per cuncta Patrem requiescit; & aucto Spe jam blandidulo sese oblectatur Julo. Talis erat Domino quantum commota remoto, Tantundem ingesto Gens luxuriosa Magistro. Dinde Caledoniis abrepto numineab oris, Londini adglomerata Cohors, solennia pulsis Luctibus (occulto licet obluctantibus aestu) Dulcia inire parat, Redit O! Risuque Triumphat Tota novo, tanto sub Directore Caterva! Qualiter extremi supremo in cardine Mundi Purpureis rutilans pennis, comptissima Phaenix Fulva viget, caudam roseis interlita punctis, Aethaereum per inane volans flammantia Phaebi Lumina, nativo (mirandum) illuminat ostro; Effusas voluerum rapiens per nubila turmas: Sic redeunt Cives; reditumque applausibus ornant Magnates, juvenesque, & quos Bellona Phalanges Struxerat, unanimis vulgi applaudente Caterva Illum autem in mediis, Ostroque Auroque coruscum; Rorantem placidos divini Nectaris imbres Prona Cohors miro circumvallabat honore. Vive tuis faelix fatis (dux Magne) ruentis Praesidium, Columenque orbis, tutela Britannum. I, surge in famam, quae jam te amplectitur ulnis. Stipatus Populi votis, age digna Triumpho; Ut tandem agnoscant lati Confinia Mundi Ingenio Monachi quod Regna redempta STUARTI. FINIS. THE TEARS And valediction of SCOTLAND HOw various is my Government? will Fate ne'er bring me back to a more constant state? Am I the sport of Fortune? like a Ball Bandied about the Air, from wall to wall, Not finding rest? must sable night still shroud My serene looks? and muffle in a cloud Our Solstice? shall my widowed Isle be tossed In troubled Seas, like a Boat that hath lost Her guide? shall I no constant Pilot find? Must my Bark ever sail against the wind? My harp is torn, and all its strings untuned, By divers rude hands touched! a jarring sound It yields th' astonished world! Pity o (Dear) Great Goddess England (whom all Nations fear) Thy suffering Sister. Europe thee obeys, On thee the weight of our Colossus lies. My lyre, which heretofore but discord sent (When senseless Clowns handled the Instrument) Now cheers our Hinds with most melodious Lays, Whilst Monk with skilful fingers on it plays; My coasts were ravished with his Harmony; Heaven sent at last this Captain down to me: From Great Orion's fall, Arion springs, Whose Key hath sweetly ordered all my strings: The croacking Frogs which late disturbed my rest. And Grasshoppers that all my Fields possessed (Since Princely Atlas was from me exiled) with Swanlike music he hath reconciled, This my first Swan, my first Arion made Sweet melody, when on the Harp he played, Wherewith my troubled bowels were allayed. Straight Monk by Providence divine led on, Whom Wit and Valour jointly wait upon, Climbs o'er Orion's tomb: His next ascent Was like to Orpheus in my Government; For having once repaired my Harp defaced, And its disordered strings in order placed, Trees, Floods, and Beasts do from their stations part And stony breasts were moved by his Art. The shady gate of Pluto his power fears, Groaning Megaera shakes her snaky hairs, Then on her sister looks: Cerberus grown pale, Under his swelling belly hides his tail, Whose howling cries affright the Stygian shades, The fearful noise Cocytus' den invades, And Sisyphus his rolling stone holds still. Nor did this Orpheus (whose great deeds my Quill Attempts in lively colours to express By indirect designs, but good success, Perform those noble Acts he had begun, For having seen how far his Clew would run, He ascends higher yet, and strives to lead Us in the paths our former Princes tread. Go on brave Atlas, the world's glorious Eye; May your fame live to all posterity; Let me just Tribute to your Virtues bring, Though you affect not praises, let me sing In a soft note your merits, too sublime For my decrepit Muse as yet to climb, Or reach up to, with a low creeping Rhyme: Give leave (if't be no crime to ask such things) At your warm beams to prune her flagging wings, And view those circling Globes of heavenly light That crown your worth, and dazzle our weak sight: Let me (my Lord) behind you stand, and tell The World, 'twas you alone that vanquished Hell, And saved us all from ruin, like the bright Sun, you dispelled those clouds that threatened night: Your Music better feasted my desire Then could Apollo's, had he brought his choir, And with his ivory fingers touched the lyre. But I will not to the world speak your worth, Or with adulterate fucus paint you forth; Virtue is her own Herald, showing best When she is stripped of Poetry, and undressed Shines in her naked Glory: High minds raise Themselves to greatness, and deserve the Bays: In such an Orb of merits you do move, Your Virtues, Wit, and Genius, soar above A mortal flight, could ancient times have seen Your famous Acts, in triumph you had been Brought by the Tribunes into Rome, before Great Caesar, and created Emperor: Or had the Phrygians in old Nestor's days Known you, they had been silent in his praise. Nor do I Scotland here yet go about Your worthy Acts t' extol, or measure out, But having tasted of that worth which still Flows from you, seeks therewith myself to fill. O whither am I carried in vain? Why do such weights disturb my labouring brain, Fuller of matter, then of words? Had I A hundred tongues, and all the Poetry The Muses could inspire me with; a sea Of Eloquence could Phoebus shower on me; More learning than He owns; or had I all The knowledge that the Powers celestial Enjoy, I were not able to set forth In Rhyme, or Prose, Monks noble Acts, and worth. But oh! whilst I run headlong, and rehearse His glorious Deeds in an Heroic verse, Fate (envious of my happiness) turns round The wheel of Fortune! and a doleful sound Falls from my Harp, thus the blind Goddess plays With mortals, like th' unconstant wind she stays In no place fixed, but various shapes puts on: Now clothed in night, straight brighter than the Sun, Making a May-Game of all humane things, Whom she this day advances high, she flings To morrow down: Who thinks he holds her fast, And is her Darling, straight on Earth is cast. Thus (jealous of success) She HIM removes From hence, and with HIM hath withdrawn our loves Scotland, that once did Rome's great Empire bound, In such a Patron is thrice happy found, Whose well-ruled Kingdom in just order cast One hundred seven Kings twice ten ages past, With happy hand did guide, to whom alone This Glory's due, they were subdued by none. But oh! what change about our Clime is hurled, Are the two Poles transverst? or will the World In sunder cleave! hath Charles' northern Wain Left its old road, and dropped into the Main? Will not the Wagoner his Teem protect? Must Helyce its night watch sti●●eglect? Shall my Harp yet by plundering Vultures be Made silent, shall my Coast no good days see; O fatal Omen! Comets such portend! No wonder? How can Heaven but downward bend When Atlas leaves it? or Earth stand when great Olympus from the Fabric doth retreat. Ye Gods! is this Light only lent my Sky, Hence to be ta●ne away so suddenly? Will Fortune ever with my sorrows play; Hath she no end of changing? will she stay In no place fixed? are not my Ruptures great Enough, but she must make them greater yet? Is't not enough to rob me of my Prince (Perhaps too good for me) but ever since To spoil and use me thus? have I not had My share of sorrows? but the Fates must add A heavier loss by taking Orpheus hence? Am I alive! or dead? what's my offence? How come the Gods so angry? what's the cause The Destinys thus change their ancient laws? You Powers above! why do you wound me so? In this you too much cruelty do show. Must we for Ciphers, or for shadows stand? Degenerate Souls, with what unequal hand Do Fates their crosses daily multiply? Was I but only lifted up on high To make my fall the greater? did ye give Me hope of late, and suffer me to live To see myself fall headlong as before? Arise you Furies! I your aid implore, Apollo seize my verse! and give me leave T'obtain my Lord, or losing Him to grieve; I am stark mad! why should I it deny Out of a zealous madness, Piety Oft-times breaks forth: 'Tis lawful sure for me Dear Sister England (Goddess of the Sea) To fight with holy weapons, it's no sin To reason with me, let us then begin To plead my cause before Thee; and when tears Are past, behold! how just my cause appears! Wherefore (O Goddess) didst Thou take away My Lord, and wouldst not let Him with Me stay? What! did you only gifts on Me bestow, Then snatch them back, to breed my future woe? You much envy in this act did express: Or did you emulate my Happiness? Or rather want Monck's presence to protect Your Nation? This indeed I did suspect; Nor did the Augur fail: Alas I know What the late Ravens croacking did foreshow At His first coming hither! How the Night Drew near, when we must look our wished-for Light: How all these Halcyon days, that gave success To the glad Ploughman's labours, and did bless Our Land with peace, must soon pass o'er, that we Might afterwards more miserable be O fatal Prophecy, now found true by me. Give leave (Great Sir) with you t' expostulate On bended knees, the cause of my bad fate; Pray, tell me who hath that ill office done, To break our Loves off, so soon as begun? Am I indeed undone? or is my brain Disturbed with windy vapours? or do vain Conceits, with frightful dreams, delude my mind? O hopeless Hope! What are you so unkind? (Illustrious Soul) to leave me thus? O how Did your beams please Me! and your serene brow, Shining like Phoebus, cheer my drooping Clime? What! are You gone so soon? have You no time To stay, whilst I revive my dying Heart? Are You but shown us, and must hence departed, Guarded with English? Thus the Harvest nigh (My Lord) to leave Us: O! how I envy Your absence hence; Must others with you reap Th' Autumn of Your labours? will you keep Within the private Cabin of your breast The Fruits of your great Merits? must I rest Behind, and not glean after so much worth? Or smell those precious Odours You cast forth? What makes You stay thus long? did You go hence To rob Me of Your Beams, or Influence? Resolve Me quickly, and the spring disclose: Is it because I'm poor, and do expose To foreign Climes my People? or do look Too mean for those high deeds You undertook? Yet why should I distrust such things of One, Under whose Government our Nation Was truly blest? Whose humble Mind was free From all Ambition, and content with Me, Had not the Gods endowed your mighty spirit With gifts sublime, and made you apt to merit Fare greater Things. Your Goodness, Piety, Faith; and Desorts hath raised your Fame so high, You must remove from us against our wills. O Immense Mind which Virtue overfills, And Wit advances to a pitch so high, You seem above the fixed Stars to fly. Had Heaven not all its favours on you thrown, My Country had found Worthies of her own. But O! the Powers have emptied their whole store Upon your Highness, and have left me poor. But why do I with staggering Rhymes complain? Or ask help of the angry Gods in vain? Shall I them, or the Fates accuse? or be Such gifts and wisdom given t' a Deity? But he's profane, who ignorant of the Laws Divine, exclaims against them without cause. I'll blame myself, and at my own breast throw These arrows, I on others would bestow. Shall I that guilty am with Heaven contend, Whose sins 'gainst God, o'er the whole Skies extend? Your absence (noble Sir) my heart divides, And is become a whip to scourge my sides; I suffered not for nought, my faults deserved This punishment; and I am justly served; My sins were great, and caused you to remove Your tents far from me; all the Powers above Enraged against me, did at length design, To take away your Lordship from my Clime. Yet did you not without a glorious train Return hence to your Country back again; And I must follow You; yea court You so As jealous Rivals do their Mistress woe, Not envying Your Titles, but shall rather Augment them, and a thousand Trophies gather, Then place them at Your feet: You are perplexed With various pressures; How is Your soul vexed with tears, and prayers, and praises of the rude Crowd (that about you throngs) the Multitude? Who with applauses mix complaints, and know No Government, nor can obedience show. These Garlands wove of Ivy, and of Bays, And whatsoever Flowers the Spring displays In various colours, to set out their State, Who shall on Your triumphant Chariot wait. Where e'er You move, whether by Land or Sea, Your Merit still shall draw Me after Thee. I'll wait on You, my Patron; and if ta'en A way, my Prayers shall bring You back again; I'll hid You in my breast: Though You remove From hence, no accident shall change my love. Should Heaven, or great Olympus, headlong be Cast in the Main, and all become one Sea; Or Fortune frown; a thousand dangers set Before me; Yet I never shall forget Your presence. Though my lyre hath lost its sound, And with disordered strings lays on the ground, Yet shall it strive to celebrate your name, And unto future Ages speak your fame. Go on! (Great Sir) whilst with a thousand Prayers And sad complaints, I follow you in tears. I'm troubled yet not mute; my misery▪ Makes all the Powers Celestial▪ 〈◊〉 with me. Ye Gods 〈…〉 I for ever 〈◊〉 farewell Unto my Lord, and to the Ocean fell▪ My grief? Ala●▪ how shall I say Adieu? My How such a sad lesson never knew▪ Yet in your absence it can do no less▪ Then wish your Highness' health and happiness! And bids you twice Farewell; but cannot speak Adieu, unless each string in pieces break: O with what Zeal unspeakable am I Transported? my toss'd-mind cannot descry What path to take! so passionate is love, It wounds my Soul to think of your remove, And makes me all concerns besides forget. How gladly wauld I say (Return)! but yet I fear great business keep you back! Then why Beg I in vain what all the Gods deny? Then O! Farewell! Farewell my only Dear! 'Tis fit the Love I own should now appear, So long since due. But why do I thus stay, When I hear Trumpets calling Him away? And the Drun beat a sudden March for all The Army, to attend their General. Then quickly hast, with all your noble train Of Peers, and Lords, and Gentry, that remain In Court or Country; all that wear the Gown, And those religious Priests, whose learning crown Fair Edinburgh; the Officers lead on The Van, whilst Fierce Bellona calls upon The Rear to follow; each observes his place, Then shouts for joy, to see their General's face: The common People (made of noise) make haste To gape upon Him ere the show be past. All stood amazed that day: A world of Men Became Spectators— But grief stops my pen To think what loss my coasts did then sustain! Hark! the great Guns in horrid tones complain Of His departure! and Earth's fabric shakes; Th' astonished Echo at the noise awakes, And from her hollow cave doth back return An answer to it: The Skies do seem to burn. Hot coals of Sulphur round the Plains are shaken: And as the Guns go off, the Soldiers look As if they dwelled in flames; or did desire To give a Farewell to their Lord in fire. At length Dalkeith from her fair palace shows, The object of the People's Joys and Woes; Our Nation's Prince, and Father, as he moves Along, the Multitude express their Loves In grief and triumph; Complaints mixed with praise, Sighs with Applauses: and where He stays, By all the flames of Love and Zeal; by all That's smooth or craggy; by things mystical; Yea, by Himself, they beg Him to return, Whose bowels inwardly for them do burn. Yet on He goes, but fain would stay behind, Millions of cares still rolling in his Mind: Thus with a noble Train, but a sad heart, This noble Phoenix did from Scotland part. But stay my Harp!— oft from dark clouds comes light, And day at length breaks up from blackest night; Sadness (like smoke) doth from the Just retire, The Bow laid by, Apollo takes his lyre; Whilst on thy shore this Phoenix stands, prepare His Farewell; but from all complaints forbear, And cheerfully thy Father's last words hear. Afflicted Nation! subject to the wheels Of Fate, who under such cross fortune reels! How art thou compassed with a swelling Sea, Which strives in its great flood to swallow thee? Scarce half an Isle (when I thy losses view) But yet an Isle! and England's sister too; Who troubled thee of late. Thy griefs assuage And do not thus in vain 'gainst Heaven rage; God hath decreed, and doth confirmed, I shall Return from hence! (witness these tears that fall Down from mine Eyes!) See where my Tents do stand! Behold! I am compelled to leave your Land! He dwells above, who Sceptres sways, and all The world must be obedient to his call. Look how I am prepared! but yet too slow A servant, knowing God doth bid me go. 'Twas He first sent Me to You, who the Reins Of these three Kingdoms in his hand contains. Although I'm called another way, yet I Am not concerned, if this great weight cast by I must bear greater. Those whom God employs Their strength doth still their burdens equalise. And how I did through all disasters wade, When Scotland's troubles on my shoulders laid, I call you all to witness who here meet: Farewell self-praise whilst I these things repeat; My Harp doth only what's divine impart, Making melodious Music by my Art. But I perceive some strings are false! Alas There lurks a snake still under the green grass? Within the womb a croacking Frog is nursed, Which must be forced out. And Schism accursed Fills the disordered strings with jarring sounds, This is the Lerna that our Hinds confounds! In which the Hundred-headed Hydra dwells, (A Monster late revived) whom no Dart kills, Till our Herculean Semi-God at least With fire and sword consume this hellish Beast, Root out this Plague; it was my whole intent To have destroyed it, e'er from you I went. But Heaven forbids it now, and my Great PRINCE (Whose Orders I obey) commands Me hence. Till than I shall not your Afflictions slight, Or ever to your Interest hid good-night: I sing glad News!— O! grieve not that I part▪ Unhoped for Joys appear!— lift up thy Heart, The times are changing,! Though I absent be, A New Sun (brighter than myself) you'll see. Heaven labours for your welfare; whilst I'm gone Night flees; The Moon her robes of light puts on, And (hastening to her Chariot) descries Long-wished for Phoebus suddenly will rise, Whose rays shall Clouds disperse, and grief assuage And back to Scotland bring the Golden Age. Thus did He end his Speech so well composed, Heavens smiled, and all the Multitude disclosed Their calm resentments. Straight about the fields Such a sost murmur flees, as Nilus yields When his high swelling flood the banks o'erflow; The drunken Earth (half dead before doth show Large crops of Corn, Flowers in each Pasture grow. His neighbouring Army (hearing what was spoke) Discharge their Muskets, and in fire and smoke Return back their assents; all things put on A pleasing look; and sadness being gone, Joy did assume her place. Wilt thus my breast With violent seas of sorrows was oppressed; Monck (having shown his Love so many ways) Leaves Scotland! and at last himself conveys Home to his Camp, (who at his stay complain) But looking back, and seeing the large train Of Scots that followed Him: He makes a stand, And leaves his Steed, that each might kiss his hand. Then all renew their grief; a trembling fear Possesses every joint; their faces were The badge of sorrow! their Affections make Them jealous of each other: straight they break Forth into praise. Each with his own mind wars; Distrusts, hopes, joys, and some again despairs; Till they behold their Princely Sun arise, Whose beams dry up the tears fall from their eyes. So when for foreign Climes the Merchant's bound, (Whilst Sails are hoist, and Anchors weighed from ground) His loving Wife (with eyes fixed on the deck) Labours to twine her Arms about his Neck, And fain would kiss him, but the unkind Main Denies that favour; (left alone) in vain She 'gainst her Husband and the God's exclaims; Curses the Ship, the Seas, the Winds; then blames Her passion; wishing him a prosperous gale, And prays no storms his Vessel may assall: But when the fleeing sails far off she views, She weeps afresh, and late complaints renews; Yet still she stands, and with intentive eyes Pursues the Ship; and twice Adieu she cries: At last constrained, back to her House returns, And for her absent Spouse a short while mourns: But when the Father's Image she espies In her fair Child, all sorrow from her flies. That at her Lord's departure Scotland grieved, Till hope of seeing CHARLES her heart relieved. Then Monck to London from the Scottish Coast Removes, attended by a gallant Host: The City (proud of such a Guest) prepares To bid Him welcome, and no charges spares; But all Him for a Deity adore, Sent to their help. So on the Indian shore The Phoenix having her bright wings displayed. And her embroidered Tail in order laid (Whose golden Plumes add lustre to Heaven's fire) Ascends the Sky attended by a Choir Of lesser Birds, who round about her sings, Whilst she the upper Region boldly wings. Thus England's Nobleses, and a warlike Train, Pressed by a crowd of people, entertain With great applause their valiant General, Who bravely mounted in the midst of all His armed Troops, like the bright Sun appears, Whose glorious presence the whole Nation cheers. Long may you live (Great Sir) to reconcile The jarring World, and prop up Britain's Isle: Go on, Fame hugs you in her breast, do things Worthy of Trophies for the best of KINGS, That all the Confines of the World may see, Monck regained CHARLES his Crown by policy. THE END.