POEM ON THE ANNIVERSARY OF THE KING'S BIRTH.  By THO. SHADWELL, Poet Laureate, and Historiographer-Royal. 
FOR ever blest be this Auspicious Day,  
Which did Great Orange to the World convey!  
Destined by Heaven that Glorious Race to run,  
Which his Illustrious Ancestors begun.  
This day enriched him with Maria's Charms,  
A vast reward for his Victorious Arms.  
This Day he visited fair Albion's shore,  
Whom long she sighed and languished for before,  
But none could less deserve, or need him more.  
The only Prince on Earth could set her free,  
From vilest Bondage and Idolatry.  
Yet soon some base ungrateful jews appear,  
Who murmur at their Great Deliverer.  
Whose Hearts to Onion Gods, and Garlic cleave,  
And for their Apis the true God would leave.  
Some for Preferment did at change aspire,  
That's all the Reformation they desire.  
These noisome Vapours, in the Bowels bred,  
Could never mount so high t'affect the Head.  
He, undisturbed in Virtue's Path, does go,  
Wisely he Reigns, bravely Subdues the Foe;  
Blest from above, he nothing fears below.  
The Party lessens, so 'twill lose its Name;  
Some his great Clemency has put to Shame,  
While others yield to his Immortal Fame.  
So wonderful his Deeds in Arms appear,  
That him worst Foes even seeming Friends must fear,  
And most Malicious Enemies revere.  
But he is sure the firm support to have,  
Of all the Uncorrupted and the Brave.  
And Malcontents, so weak, so little seem,  
Themselves they may endanger, never him.  
For shame Recant, and willingly Obey,  
And bless heavens Power for this Important Day.  
For us what Toils, what Perils has he run!  
Which might have the distressed World undone.  
Above all Princes were the Great Nassaws,  
Yet none of them had such a Glorious Cause.  
Those bravely their own Country freed, and broke  
The Spanish Fetters: This the gallic Yoke,  
Which Lovis for all Europe had designed:  
Our King was sent by Heaven t' enlarge Mankind.  
His Warlike Actions will be all Renowned,  
But that o'th' Boyn with highest Glory Crowned,  
wherever Fame shall her loud Trumpet sound.  
Go on, Brave Prince, and Heaven your Person bless,  
And your Victorious Troops with wished Success.  
Unhurt your Person be, unbroken they,  
In Conquests fierce as you are mild in Sway.  
You, Sir, were Born the Noblest Cause to try,  
And nought can stop your process but the Sky;  
To you shall Subjects Kneel, from you ill Princes fly.  
May every day your Godlike Power increase,  
And your Victorious Progress never cease,  
Till you shall give the Suffering World a Peace.  
When to the top of Glory you attain,  
Which you by Righting Injured Nations Gain;  
A long and healthful Life attend your prosperous Reign.  
And never may you mount above the Skies,  
Till from Life's Feast you satisfied shall rise.   

Printed for james Knapton at the Crown in St. Paul's Churchyard, 1690.