A PANEGYRIC ON THEIR Royal Highnesses, And Congratulating His RETURN FROM SCOTLAND.  
LONDON, Printed by A. Godbid and J. Playford for Jos. Hindmarsh at the Sign of the Black Bull near the Royal-Exchange in Cornhill, 1682.   

A PANEGYRIC ON THEIR Royal Highnesses.  

WHen the Most High Eternal Son of God  
Through famed Judea in Procession road,  
The Loyal Publican, with zealous haste,  
Climbed up a Tree to view him as he passed,  
And with a look that did his Joy relate  
The Mighty Saviour did congratulate:  
So 'mongst the Crowds that with Impatience strove  
T' express their Fealty and faithful Love,  
I and my throbbing heart with equal flames  
Panted and pressed to greet the Godlike JAMES.  
Welcome then, Mighty SIR; welcome as Peace  
To conquered Nations, or to sick Men, Ease;  
Welcome, as what you bring us, Loyalty,  
A fruit which in our Isle we rarely see;  
In th' barren North it blooms, to Storms exposed;  
But in our Sunny Climate never grows:  
Here fertile Nature makes the Commons Kings,  
And from her fatness rank Rebellion springs ':  
Damned lust of Englishmen, that ne'er repent  
Their Treasons, nor with Blessings were contented.  
Black was the Day, and blasted was the Year,  
When the cursed Factious, full of wretched fear,  
Sought the true Heir of England to exclude,  
Only because He was too great, and good,  
Two Epithets that never yet could suit  
The sordid Mind of your true English Brute:  
Loud Tempests roared, as if designed to cross  
The Royal Mandate, and not let Him pass,  
Whilst weeping Showers seemed to mourn our loss:  
And as each Element than bore a part  
In grief, even so did every Honest Heart.  
But now the happy hours are doubly blessed,  
The Land with the full Store of Heaven possess't;  
The Season smiles, and each propitious Ray  
For His Return their secret Joy display;  
The flowers that did in private Closets keep,  
And during th' Winter of His Absence sleep,  
Bloom out, and a gay fragrant Robe put on,  
To bless and welcome in the RISING SUN;  
Laetamur 
* The Motto of the Medal.  is the Word, a word which late  
As mighty Hopes, did mighty Joy create,  
When the famed Motto with applause was put  
To the Effigy of the Grand Patriot,  
Nearest their hearts, where late their George's hung,  
The palefaced Medal with its Silver tongue  
Was placed, whilst every Wearer still expressed  
His Joy to harbour there so famed a Guest.  
The Wretch that stamped it got immortal fame;  
'Twas coined by stealth, like Groats at Brumicham;  
Whilst each Possessor with exalted voice  
Cries, England's saeved, and now Let us Rejoice.  
But though Seditious Tenets they pursue,  
We have a Cause of Joy solid and true,  
And therefore let us cry Laetamur too.  
For Mighty YORK'S returned, returned to Reign  
O'er hearts, and move in His Great Sphere again:  
'Tis in His Face you see the RISING SUN,  
tother's a Comet blazing o'er the Town,  
Portending Mischiefs seeming to explain  
The former Tragic Scene designed again.  
Fly then ye Loyal Natives, fly with zeal,  
Embrace His Knees, and your true Joy reveal;  
Prove your affection to your Injured Prince,  
Give him your Hearts, for you had his long since:  
Give Him your Hearts, oppose the Rebel Power,  
And never part with your Loved HERO more.   

And hail Bright PRINCESS, best of thy fair Kind,  
An Angel's Body with an Angel's Mind,  
Beauteous as are the Virgin Saints above,  
That sit and smile on the right hand of Jove,  
And good, as the first state Heaven formed 'em in,  
 that Angelic Sex knew how to sin;  
How when She comes shall we our crimes atone?  
How shall we meet the Justice of Her Frown,  
That doing no offence was forced away  
With Her dear Lord, a cruel Fate t' obey,  
And Sacrifice Her Joy, Her Peace and Fame,  
To a cursed Branded thing without a Name?  
Down her fair face the liquid Treasures rolled;  
Then taking on her ROYAL PARTNER hold,  
England farewell, She cried, thou hated shore,  
And may I never see thy baseness more!  
But she comes back, and nobly may despise  
The Pigmy Malice of her Enemies;  
Disdain and Anger in Her forehead sit,  
Yet both so calmed and tempered by Her Wit,  
That with a modest smile She strives t' oppose  
Revenge, and only pities all her foes.  
Return then and forgive, and may Your Name  
Charm the wide Globe, as does your HEROES Fame:  
Long may ye love, and still may ye appear  
Teeming, as to our Joy you prove this Year.  
Your Pregnant Veins are framing wondrous things,  
Oh glorious Passion that creates young Kings!  
The Illustrious Infant struggles in the Womb,  
As if he knew his Royal fate to come,  
And silently mourns, that so long a space  
'Twill be,  he gins his Glorious Race:  
But when as the Divinest Gift of Heaven,  
The Princely Babe is for our Comfort given,  
May every heart conspire with every tongue  
T' implore his years may be renowned and long,  
That he may merit his brave Father's Name  
And Rival Virtue with his Mother's Fame.   

Methinks I see our great AUGUSTUS stand,  
With the fair PRINCESS smiling in His Hand,  
High Grandeur mixed with Joy adorns His Face,  
Whilst blushing Duty Hers does sweetly grace:  
Their Eyes are fixed and mingling Glories seem,  
Like the Sun's Rays Reflecting on a Gem:  
His Awful Light then on His BROTHER shines,  
Who with a silent Modesty inclines  
To hear his welcome, and with humble grace  
Fixing His Eyes upon His Monarch's Face,  
His willing Knees with Loyal duty bend  
To His dear King, His Brother, and His Friend,  
Who in His Arms does the Loved Favourite hold,  
And speaks a gracious welcome from His soul.  
Thrice happy Scotland, well didst thou begin  
To make atonement for thy former sin,  
When thou with Joy a Virtue didst Embrace:  
By brooding Factions driven from this place,  
Well was the much-wronged Prince received by thee,  
And well hast thou reformed thy Loyalty:  
Yet to His Goodness thou thy Fame dost owe,  
For thou hadst faithless been had he been so:  
But as the Thracian Bard, with charming strains,  
Drew the Wild Savages from Woods and Plains,  
Controlled their Brutish Rage where  he came,  
And made the fiercest Bears and Tigers tame;  
So Mighty Prince Thy Virtue did oppose  
The close designs and Malice of thy Foes,  
And made a Nation, famed for Treachery,  
Bow to thy Loyal Principles and Thee,  
Whilst England's left with its King-killing Race,  
A Nest of Rebels, as it ever was.   
FINIS.