A POEM ON THE CORONATION OF King JAMES II. AND His roil Consort QUEEN MARY.  By John Phillips Gent. Student of Lincoln's-Inn. 

AT last the early Birds with tunfuell Lays  
Proclaimed the solemn, welcomest of Days,  
But Phoebus rose not yet, since Charles was gone,  
With whom he sat, he kept his Mourning on:  
(Charles! Heaven's glad Burden now, and justest Pride,  
Who sits Enthroned next his Great Father's side.)  
And now the weeping Skies with Clouds overspread,  
Paid its last Tribute to the Royal Dead,  
The Sun broke out with an unusual Ray,  
And with new Beams bedecked the smiling Day;  
He saw th' encircled Heads, and darting down  
Blest with a Lambent heat the Dazzling Crown.  
He saw the Pomp, and Blushing did confess  
In adding Lustre, He received no less.   

The weighty Emblem of a Crown more bright  
Lifts the Great Bearer higher from our sight;  
Adds an Eighth Genius to the brighter Heaven,  
But Fixst, not wand'ring as the other seven.   

Such is his Valour, and his vast Success,  
You'd think him more a Man, were they but less;  
But only Gods (like Mighty JAMES) are They  
Who know no Limits to their Earthly sway.  
But since to paint Perfection we cant' raise  
Our Thoughts to equal height, he's lessened by our Praise:  
On then, Great Prince; with one united Ray  
The Sun and you together Rule the Day;  
While your Fair Consort decked with Paler Light  
Successively with Phoebe Rules the Night.  
Blessed with such rich Advantages as these  
A JAMES and MARY, Victory and Peace;  
How Happy Albion dost thou seem to be!  
Thy Fate is to be envied even by Thee.   
FINIS.   

LONDON, Printed for J. Walthoe at the Black Lion in Chancery Lane, over against Lincoln's-Inn.