THE frontispiece of the King's Book opened. WITH A Poem annexed: The In-security of Princes. Considered in an occasional Meditation upon the King's late Sufferings and Death.  HORAT: 
Saepius ● ventis agitatur ingens  
Pinus: & celsae graviore casu  
Decidunt Turres: feriuntque summos  
Fulmina Montes.   

The frontispiece of the King's Book Opened.  

BEFORE three Kingdoms-Monarch three Crowns lie;  
Of Gold; of thorn; of Glory; bright, but vain;  
Sharp, yet but light; eternal to remain:  
O'th' World; of Christ; of heaven: At's Foot; Hand; Eye▪  
He spurns; accepts; expects. Kneels; yet doth reign.   

A Sun; a Rock; a palmtree▪ (Emblems fit)  
The Sun in Clouds: the Rock in waves o'th' Sea:  
The Palm-trees boughs depresed with weights: Yet see,  
The Sun shines out more bright; the Rock's unsplit,  
Unmoved: the palmtree flourishes. So he.    

Another more at large.  
WHAT have we here? a Worldling? Surely no.  
What is he then? a Papist? Neither so.  
Then haply some Enthusiast? Nothing less.  
Is he an Atheist then? or what? Express.  
To prove him not a Worldling, look below,  
His action with his Foot proclaims him so.  
That he's no Papist neither, look before him,  
God's-Word, no Missal there, doth so declare him.  
Wherein professing that his Hope doth rest,  
We may conclude he's no Enthusiast.  
That likewise he's no Atheist, mark his Ey  
To heaven lift up admits a Deity.  
If then, no Worldling, nor a Papist he,  
An Atheist neither, nor Enthusiast be;  
What is he then? Why, questionless a KING.  
A King? that's common, yet no common thing.  
(What's here presented to our view) to see  
A King to heaven devoted on his knee.  
Kings, though the greatest, yet not still the best:  
Too oft than heaven the World in more request  
With such. Then sure this is some Christian King;  
So Christian like his garb in every thing.  
For mark! his Body to devotion framed;  
His soul the whilst with heavenly fire inflamed:  
Whose operation makes him spurn away  
His worldly crown, as burdensome though Gay.  
Giving all earthly Kings to understand,  
That vanity doth still their crown attend:  
Which underfoot are fitter to be trod,  
Then touched with hand, or taken on the Head:  
This therefore with his foot thus turned away,  
His hand he doth upon his saviour's lay.  
The which Though sharp, yet Light, and which by Grace  
Being attended, may be borne with ease.  
And now, the former crown contemned, and  
This latter taken up with cheerful hand;  
God's word withal proposed for the scope,  
The Rule, the Square, the Anchor of his Hope;  
(Who promiseth that those with Christ shall reign  
Who waving crowns, his cross shall entertain:)  
No marvel, if that he with steadfast Eye  
Of lively Faith, advanced to the sky,  
Doth there behold a crown, which th'other two▪  
As much as heaven the Earth, beyond doth go:  
Heaven's Blessed diadem, eternal, and  
The which, as proper, Glory doth attend.  
In this condition, what though Winds do blow?  
And storms on all sides threaten overthrow?  
Though Troubles rise, and Waves lift up their voice,  
Like billows beating with a hideous noise  
Upon (that emblem of a constant mind)  
A rock, that bassler both of Waves and wind.  
Yet still he stands unmoved, maintains His ground,  
O'er all assaults Triumphing, safe and sound.  
Whilst through Black Clouds breaks forth a Heavenly Ray,  
By darkness so set off, it Shines like Day,  
Which, streaming down upon this constant Head,  
So quits the same of Care, his Heart of Dread,  
That, though oppressed, as the palm by Weight,  
(virtues true emblem) yet t'a greater height  
He still ariseth of divine perfection  
Under the burden of the worst affliction.  
And, thus is shadowed forth of British pearls  
(So famous heretofore in foreign Worlds)  
The most illustrious, orient, precious one,  
That ever yet adorned the English Throne:  
The best of Kings, set o'er the Subjects worst;  
The Father of the Second, Charles the first.  
Didst thou not know him, Reader? then look hence:  
Here' that at hand will cure thy ignorance:  
His Picture by his own rare pencil ta'en;  
None ever by Apelles better drawn:  
His Golden Manual, so divine, so rare,  
As, save God's book, admits of no compare.  
The book of books, so choice (one word for all)  
As e'er the Chri●●ian world was blessed withal.  
This Front is but the sign, go, enter then;  
Thy soul ne'er lodged in a braver inn:  
Which to put down, though Earth and Hell combine,  
Though Men and Devils all their forces join;  
Whilst Clu●s is trump, yet unto all be't known  
By heaven 'tis licenced, and may not go down.  
Though, as a book it wants mens' Imprimatur.  
It glorieth yet in his who's mens' Creator.  
Then blesed his Providence! thrice blesed his Pleasure!  
That hath good Subjects blessed with such a Treasure.  
Mean time, accursed, and thrice accursed all such  
As, like damned Rebels, at this blessing grudge!  
Whilst by this book the former grow much better,  
May heaven convert, or else confound the latter.  
But Reader! on, leave straws and gather pearls;  
Leave these, and to the Lines of brave King CHARLES:  
Of whom, besides this admirable ΕΙΚΩΝ  
We have another in our CHARLES the SECOND:  
One, of the virtues as apparent heir,  
As of the crown of his illustrious Sire:  
In reference to whom, let's pray, say, sing,  
May rebels perish: But  
GOD SAVE THE KING.   

The In-security of Princes.  
O How doth sad experience verify  
His perilous estate that sits on high!  
Wouldst thou far off from thunderstroke remove,  
Then keep thy distance, come not near to Jove:  
Whilst high-pitched towers lie open to wind and weather;  
The low-thatched Bowre's insensible of either.  
The lowly shrub stands ever firm and fast,  
Whilst lofty Cedars shake with every blast.  
No stormy-winds disturb the humble Vale,  
Whilst the proud mountain feels the smallest gale.  
Safety but seldom at the Court resides:  
It flies the Prince, and with the peasant bides.  
From Palaces contentment keeps aloof:  
(A Cottage-guest) it loves the low-set-roof.   

Votum Authoris.  
WERE I then of the twain my choice to make  
I'd leave the Palace, and the Cottage take.  
A Prince or peasant might I choose to be,  
The peasant rather than the Prince for me!  
Were I by option, high, or low to dwell,  
I'd choose the Valley and refuse the Hill.  
Might I, or tower, or bower, at will elect,  
I'd take the Bower, and the tower reject.  
Ever preferring safe obscurity  
To envied in-secure sublimity.  
And choosing rather to abide below,  
Then hazard, from the Hill, an overthrow.  
" Who's down already, of up-standers all  
" Hath this advantage: That he fears no fall.   

Another.  
O To what dangers, to what cares and fears,  
Is he exposed that the sceptre bears!  
What though a golden crown his brows adorns?  
'Tis little better than a crown of thorns.  
Such cares his head molest, his heart such fears,  
Whose head the crown, whose hand the sceptre bears.  
The sayings old, but true: Were it but known  
To him that in the Streets should find a crown  
What Cares attend the same, he would not stoop  
(As hardly worth the pains) to take it up.  
No crown without a cross: the crown and care,  
Like sin and sorrow, undivi●ed are.  
'Twixt crown and care as great affinity,  
As twixt Effect and Cause; twixt Fruit and Tree.  
For worldly crowns how fond is th●n the strife!  
No crown for me, except the crown of Life!  
Those, like to worldly glory, post away;  
This immarcessible, and lasts for ay.  
Though robbed of the former, yet the head  
Of brave King Charles with this is garnished:  
And He triumphant sits aloft, and sings  
Continual praises to the King of Kings:  
Above the reach of those malignant ones;  
Rebellious Corah's, worst of Belials sons;  
Whom as he here with patience, so there  
Beholds with pity, and with smiling cheer  
Laughs at their Malice, disappointed so,  
That making him a mortal crown forgo,  
A crown immortal he hath gained. Fond men!  
'Tis you, not he, that are the losers then.  
For you have lost a Prince, of whom fame swore,  
There never was the like; nor should be more.  
For intellectuals, t't'admiration rare;  
And for his Morals beyond all compare.  
For his Religion, past example sound;  
And for devotion ne'er enough renowned.  
Whether as Husband, Parent, Master, He  
A Mirror fit for all posterity.  
In short, say malice whatsoever she Can,  
The sun ne'er shone upon a braver man:  
And of his Country such a tender father;  
That, than wrong it, he martyrdom Chose rather.  
And thus unto some few men's lawless pleasure  
Was sacrificed three Kingdoms Choicest treasure.  
Whilst villainy with Villani's upheld,  
And Murder for Rebellion made the shield.  
Thus bad beginnings to worse ends are tied:  
A rebel first and then a Regicide.  
No other Plea, that ever I could see,  
For that their so much urged necessity.  
Necessity? O heavens'! Cursed be that need,  
Which makes a sinner in his sin proceed!  
Was 't not enough they should so ill begin?  
But they must needs be adding sin to sin?  
Is this their thorough Reformation? this  
I' th' fear of God to perfect holiness?  
Thus keep they covenant, when away they take  
His Life, whom Glorious here they vowed to make?  
If these be Saints, if this their Doctrine be,  
A sinner rather than a Saint for me!  
If such as these the fruits of sanctity,  
Then Machiavel himself a Saint may be,  
If Saints are understood in this large sense,  
twixt Saints and devils what's the difference?  
This sounds more like the voice of Hell or Rome,  
Into whose secrets let not my soul come!  
Nor yet of theirs; a sort of brain sick youths,  
Pretenders to new Lights, and to new Truths:  
Old Errors these; darke-Lanthorns those, the which  
Betray their followers into Hell's black ditch,  
But see what by fair words they promised,  
By their foul deeds is now accomplished,  
Though in a better sense; good out of ill  
Heaven's midwifery producing, spite of Hell.  
For maugre Men and devils, he's become  
So glorious as no Prince in Christendom,  
And is by so much more exalted now  
As lately (Rebels) trampled on by you.  
Experience thus confirms the Adagy:  
" That he that suffers gets the Victory.   

Votum Authoris.  

IS Suffering then to heaven the King's highway?  
Goes the Voluptuous Worldling clean astray?  
Then Mammonists I sing requiems to your souls!  
Let Bacchus boys carouse their wine in bowls:  
Let Gluttons of their Bellies make their God:  
Let Gallants glory to be richly clad:  
Let Sluggards stretch themselves on beds of down:  
Their heads with rosebuds let the wanton crown:  
Let the Ambitious live to tower on high:  
Let the Malicious hug his evil ay:  
Let the Sacrilegist celebrate the day  
That made Church-lands become his lawful prey:  
Whilst the proud rebel triumpheth that he  
Himself can raise by fall of Monarchy:  
But thou my soul! abhor such prostitutions!  
Such sensual Epicurean base pollutions!  
Mere by-paths these, for stragglers; ways that tend,  
Like that broad-Rode, unto some dismal end.  
The cross let be thy portion, sanctified!  
Thy sovereign, next thy Saviour, be thy guide!  
Went thy sweet Saviour to the fatal-tree,  
Thy sovereign to the Block, so willingly?  
And wilt thou startle at a petty cross?  
A light affliction? some slight temporal loss?  
Such captains, and a Coward! No; Thus led,  
I'll scorn it should be said I slinched or fled.  
Heaven's say Amen, and grant I henceforth may  
The broad declining, choose the narrow way!  
Then, though heart's grief may by the way offend,  
Yet such hearts-ease shall crown my journeys end,  
As never Eye hath seen, ear heard, nor can  
Conceived be by heart of mortal-man.   

Then set a period here. Let contemplation  
Make up the rest in silent admiration.   
FINIS.