TO THE QUEENS MAJESTY ON HER Happy Arrival.  

NOw that the Winds and Seas so kind are grown  
For our Advantage to resign their own;  
Now you have quitted the Triumphant Fleet,  
And suffered English ground to kiss your feet;  
Whilst your glad Subjects with impatience Throng  
To see a blessing they have begged so long;  
Whilst Nature (who in Compliment to you  
Kept back till now her warmth and beauty too)  
Hath, to attend the lustre your eyes bring,  
Sent out her loved Ambassador the Spring;  
Whilst in your praise Fame's Echo does conspire  
With the soft touches of the Sacred Lyre:  
Let an obscurer Muse upon her Knees  
Present you with such Offerings as These,  
And you as a Divinity Adore,  
That so your mercy may appear the more.  
Who though of those you should the best receive  
Can such imperfect ones as These forgive.  
Hail Royal beauty! Virgin bright and Great,  
Who do our hopes secure, and joys complete.  
We cannot reckon what to you we owe,  
Who make Him happy, who makes us be so.  
We did enjoy but half our King before,  
You as our Prince, and Him His Peace restore.  
But heaven for us this desperate debt hath paid,  
Who such a Monarch hath your Trophy made.  
A Prince whose Virtue did alone subdue  
Armies of men, and of Offences too.  
So good, that from him all our blessings flow,  
Yet is a greater than he can bestow;  
So great, that he dispenses Life and Death,  
And Europestate depends upon His Breath.  
(For Fortune would her wrongs to him repair  
By Courtships greater than her mischiefs were;  
As Lovers that of Jealousy repent,  
Grow troublesome in fond acknowledgement.)  
Who greater courage showed in wooing you,  
Than other Princes in their Battles do.  
Never was Spain so generously defied,  
Where they designed a Prey, He courts Bride.  
Hence they may guests what will His anger prove,  
When He appeared so brave in making Love;  
And be more wise than to provoke His Arms,  
Who can submit to nothing but your Charms,  
And till they give Him Leisure to subdue  
His Enemies, must owe their Peace to you.  
Whilst He and you mixing illustrious Rays,  
As much above our wishes as our praise,  
Such Heroes shall produce, as even they  
Without Regret or Blushes shall Obey.    

London, Printed for Henry Herringman. 1662.