A PINDARICK ODE, Upon the Death of His late sacred Majesty KING CHARLES the SECOND.  
At si non aliam venturo Fata JACOBO  
Invenere viam,  
Tum nihil( O Superi) querimur—  
OXFORD, Printed by Leonard Lichfield Printer to the University, for Anthony Stephens Book seller near the Theatre 1685.   

A PINDARICK ODE, Upon the Death of his late sacred Majesty King CHARLES the Second.  
Humbly Dedicated to the Right Honourable JAMES Earl of ABINGDON.  

I.  
alas he's dead— The dismal sound  
Like poisoned Air  
Hot Universal plagues doth in it bear,  
And scatters piercing pains around.  
Paleness and tears and pensive looks is all we see,  
While Nature's self does seem to be  
dissolved in Elegy.  
Ye Gods! what Scenes of horror do you show,  
What sad Varieties of woe.  
Sure, sure your heaven must fall and back to Chaos run,  
Your Prop, your Atlas is removed and gone.  
Clouds charged with all the rage of Hell  
And all your pouring Storms of wrath we feel,  
Whole Loads of vengeance undergo,  
And yet( forgive my frantic Zeal)  
T' our sins a less affliction was but due.  
If fire, war, fammin you had sent,  
If a second Deluge had came forth  
And covered ore this Ball of Earth,  
Then, then( our CHARLES being saved) with joy  
weed to your Altars fly,  
And hug those blessed ills, and soon repent.  
But now amazed and stupefied we stand  
At your correcting hand,  
This, this alas( I fear) is more,  
Then poor forsaken man can e're endure.   

II.  
At's Birth a Glorious Star appeared  
It rowld with pure, refined, unborrow'd Light,  
Long time kept of approaching Night,  
And seemed another Sun to us below,  
The pointed Flames declared,  
And was the sign  
That this our Royal Babe was all Divine,  
Good heaven why not Immortal too.  
Never was soul so regularly great,  
The Gods such pains did take  
The best of men to make,  
That in less time and fewer days,  
They did the whole Creation raise,  
And all this curious train of things beget.  
To him in glory dressed  
All his Forefathers Wealth came flowing in,  
And sensibly the Fund increased,  
But in a numerous Crowd it scarce was seen.  
Thus Rivers to the Ocean run,  
And raise( tis true) the waters higher  
That they their swelling Mountains may admire,  
But there's a Stock below, and mightier Store-house of its own.   

III.  
His Father basely murdered, he withstood  
The grief and thousand Deaths that after him were sent,  
And all the vile ingratitude  
That forced his Banishment.  
His Royal Oak scarce e're could be  
So deeply fixed against a Storm as He:  
Like this his isle unmoved he lay,  
With unconcerned and steady mind,  
At all the Waves and Wind  
That could from France or Holland come  
At all the Monsters of the air and sea,  
At all the wild state Hurricanes at home.  
To Arms and Fighting bread,  
Victry itself was prisoner made.  
Our Hercules, our guardion God  
An Hydra tamed, he tamed the multitude.  
He purged the Senate so, that all allow  
He cleared a stinking stable too.  
But yet his Universal Influence  
Plenty to this, and all the Earth at once did give,  
At once both Indies thrive,  
While the old drudging Sun does less dispense,  
And fainter Lights from's Orb do flow,  
For whilst above from him a Summer we receive,  
'Tis Winter at the Antipodes below.  
Alone and uncontrolled he did command,  
And either season War, or Peace could sand,  
On his high Throne was raised,  
He Nodded, shook the World, and thundered when he pleased.   

IV.  
Under his shade the Tuneful Tribe did long retreat,  
There did the Muses meet,  
And round their Darling sit.  
( Oh might their Sons and offspring find  
Ages to come as Learned and as kind).  
In one Parnassus they then gloried more,  
Then Rome in her seven Hills before.  
To what vast heights did Learning rise.  
Each Science tho in Russet clad  
To th' Court their Journeys made,  
And there with dainties fed  
Their former home-bred Country Welcome's they despise.  
There their Rags aside were laid,  
Like the Sidonian gardener, there  
With Robes of State in Pomp and Glory they appeared,  
His Firmament, as that above, with thousand Lights was dressed,  
With thousand Angels blessed.  
None from his Bounty were secure,  
Retirement, Darkness could not Merit hid,  
But he the shining Diamond espied.  
pulled from its loved retreat,  
Away 'twas bore,  
condemned and sentenced to be great.   

V.  
To such a pitch his Mercy did arrive,  
That none could sin so fast, as he forgive.  
Rebels his Goodness long admired,  
So undeserv'dly spared, the dreadful pain  
Of shane and Wonder they sustain,  
That for their Ease their Racks and Gibbets they required.  
Oh Depth, oh boundless Sea, which wit  
Has never failed or fathomed yet.  
It's Glories here I can conceive and feel,  
But sure in the next World must tell.  
A flat and daubing praise 'twill not abide,  
The Bard on purpose must be glorified.  
But see, the Merciful, the Brave,  
majestic and August,  
The valiant, wise and just,  
Are attributes that Dirt and paroxysms must have.  
alas, alas in this poor clod of Earth,  
Is huddled all his worth.  
Could he but hear us call, he'd not disdain  
Our deep fetched sighs, our floods of Tears,  
And all our longing prayers,  
But would he would come back again.  
Lo then the God, the God does come,  
Again vouchsafes to take his Crown;  
Oh tune your Harps ye Saints above,  
And all your sluggish grief remove.  
Hosannas through th' eternal Regions sound,  
And let it gladly echo round.  
Thou Prince, that dost in Purple Mourn,  
With these thy Robes in triumph ride,  
Let well winged joys attend thy side;  
Our CHARLES again is born,  
In Royal JAMES, our Charles, our God does once again RETURN.   
FINIS.