EPILOGUE TO Her Royal Highness, On Her RETURN from SCOTLAND.  Written by Mr. OTWAY. 

ALL you, who this Day's Jubilee attend,  
And every Loyal Muses Loyal Friend;  
That come to treat your longing wishes here,  
Turn your desiring Eyes and feast 'em, there.  
Thus falling on your Knees with me implore,  
May this poor Land ne'er lose that Presence more:  
But if there any in this Circle be,  
That come so cursed to envy what they see:  
From the vain Fool that would be great too soon,  
To the dull Knave that writ the last Lampoon!  
Let such, as Victims to that beauty's Fame,  
Hang their vile blasted Heads, and Dye with shame,  
Our mighty Blessing is at last returned,  
The joy arrived for which so long we mourned:  
From whom our present peace we ' expect increased,  
And all our future Generations blest:  
Time have a Care: bring safe the hour of joy  
When some blessed Tongue proclaims a Royal Boy:  
And when 'tis born, let Nature's hand be strong;  
Bless him with days of strength and make 'em long;  
Till charged with honours we behold him stand,  
Three Kingdoms Banners waiting his Command,  
His Father's Conquering Sword within his Hand:  
Then th' English Lions in the Air advance,  
And with them roaring Music to the Dance,  
Carry a Quo Warranto into France.    

Printed for Jacob Tonson, at the Judge's Head in Chancery-lane, 1682.