IRELAND'S TEARS.  
TO THE Sacred Memory Of our late Dread Sovereign King CHARLES II.  

I.  
AS distant Thunder in a rolling Cloud,  
First Murmurs inwardly, then Roars aloud  
O'er the amazed listening Crowd;  
Till the Dread Clap scares every Mortal Ear;  
Too weak heavens angry voice to bear:  
Such was the sad astonishing News  
Which February's 6 th'. Ideas did bring;  
The Dangerous Sickness of our Dearest KING!  
It stun'd all Ears, and did all Minds amuse;  
All the sad Tidings so bemoan,  
As if 'twere not His Sickness, but their Own.  
Trembling, and full of Fear we wait  
To know what the next Messenger will say;  
And all the while we Weep, and all the while we Pray.  
When suddenly Death's Herald spoke the Dreadful Fate—  
Alas! the Miserable Day!  
The News too sad to Hear, too Killing to Repeat.   

II.  
Horror and Cries fill all around:  
Distracted Looks, and Throbbing Hearts,  
As if 'twere the last Trumpets sound,  
In every place are found;  
And hideous Groans do Echo from all parts.  
Frighted with what I saw, and heard;  
But much more with what I feared:  
The blasted City soon I left.  
And as of Reason quite bereft,  
I wildly roamed about to seek some place  
Lesle Doleful than the City was;  
Where without Partners, or Looker's on  
I might Enjoy my Grief alone:  
And for a little space  
Might lay the weighty Burden of my Sorrow down.   

III.  
And long I had not roved about,  
 an approved Retirement I found out;  
Ruins, that to Religion Sacred were of Yore;  
Nor now less Venerable than heretofore:  
Where all things did my Melancholy Fancy please;  
Murmuring Waters, awful Cliffs, and Withered Trees:  
There Cheerful Birds ne'er Sing, nor e'er blows Gentle Breeze:  
Nor any Beast, or Humane Face  
Was to be seen upon the lonely Place.  
To this Forlorn and Uncouth seat,  
Well suited to my Troubled state,  
I softly with my load of Grief retreat:  
Where each Rock and every Tree  
Would, (I knew,) Condole with me;  
Only stern Fate would un-relenting be.  
Thus then with many a Tear and Groan,  
My Dead Prince I did bemoan.   

iv  
CHARLES, the Clement, and the Good!  
CHARLES, the Flower of Princely Blood!  
Of all we Earthly Gods do call,  
CHARLES, the most Beloved of all!  
Our Heart's Delight, Joy of our Eyes;  
And whom not we alone did prize,  
Through the whole Universe his Glory flies.  
Even Nations Strangers to our Faith and God,  
Herd of His Fame,  
Revered His Name,  
And Eastern Princes Dazzled with his bright Renown,  
Which did so much Eclipse their own,  
Sent their Ambassadors Abroad  
To Court the Favour of this Second Solomon.  
Of him to learn the Royal Art  
To Govern, and secure the People's Heart:  
While Christendom in every weighty All  
Did to his well-known Justice still Appeal,  
Whose Word and Wisdom ever turned the Scale.   

V  
He that can tell the drops o● 〈◊〉  
Which on an April day do fall,  
(Or his sad Subjects Tears can count,  
Which to a greater number mount;)  
May reckon up the Graces, but not all,  
(For that Essay would be in vain,)  
Which did adorn his Life and Glorious Reign:  
For who will e'er Attempt to tell  
Things that are unexpressible?  
Great Lord of Wit, Patron of Arts he was,  
Learning's strong Atlas, Poetry's best Friend;  
Crowned with each Ray, and Blest with every Grace,  
That could a Prince, or make, or recommend.  
But if in any one he could and did Himself Excel,  
'Twas that of Clemency!  
Herein he was heavens Parallel.  
Nay (be't with reverence spoke) He Heaven outwent,  
In pardoning the Impenitent—  
Is Heaven itself so Merciful as He?   

VI  
But as Ten Thousand scattered Rays  
By Art are made to Centre in one Glass;  
So all the Tenderness and Love  
Which in his Heart did towards all his Subjects move,  
First on His Royal Brother fell, and through Him did pass.  
Not fearing loss of Empire, or of Life,  
When Highborn James' Foes were rife,  
When saucy, Factious Senates menaced high,  
And blushed not to Decry  
The Crown's Just Heir and Truest Friend to Monarchy;  
Our King close to His Brother's Interest stood,  
And stemmed the Impetuous Flood.  
To the Damned Project soon he put an end,  
And showed Himself not more a Monarch than a Friend.  
Friendship like This the World did never know,  
Save what the King of Heaven did show,  
Who, for our sakes, descending here below,  
Ceased to be Happy, that we might be so.   

VII.  
How Dear to Heaven its Champion was, our Prince,  
(Who did so well Defend the Crown  
And Faith which He received from thence,  
Still valuing the Publick-Weal, more than His own;)  
Let the long Chain of Miracles convince,  
Which, Maugre all the opposition  
Of Fiends, and Fiendlike Men combined in one;  
Destined him for, and Brought him to, and kept him on his Throne.  
Witness that shining Herald, sent  
To tell the World of His Illustrious Birth.  
As if Heaven had hereby meant—  
Another God is Born on Earth!  
At Noon we saw the Newborn Star  
Shine on his Infant Brother here,  
With a Mild Aspect, yet so Bright and Clear,  
As did outvie the Midday Sun,  
As far as He Himself all other Kings has done.   

VIII.  
And when Rebellion Black and Dire  
Had harassed long his Godlike Sire;  
Whose Life it Barbarously took away,  
Of all things Great and Holy made a Prey,  
And turned three Kingdoms into One Aceldama;  
Our late (Ah wretched word!) Heav'n-loved King,  
Kind Providence did wondrously convey,  
And sheltered Him beneath its wing,  
From all the Ills which War, and Chance,  
And Treasons blacker than the Night,  
Did 'gainst his Sacred Life advance.  
Witness his Happy 'scape from Wor'ster's Bloody-Fight:  
Where Hovering Angels with their Mighty Shield  
Saved Him from all the Hazards of that Dreadful Field:  
And their important Charge, by ways unknown, conveyed  
TO a Neighbouring Friendly shade,  
Where sturdy Oaks stretched out their Arms on high,  
(Oh shame to Man's Barbarity!)  
To Receive, and shelter Distressed Majesty.  
Witness, O Boscobel, thy Monumental Tree!   

IX.  
From Thence through Dangers numberless,  
In mighty Wants, and deep Distress  
At Home, Abroad, by Land and Seas,  
(As once his High-famed Ancestor, the wandriug Trojan Prince)  
By many a wondrous Providence,  
During his Nine Years Exile hence,  
Heaven its Regard of Him did Evidence,  
When the Almighty King to shewhis care  
Of such as his Vicegerents are;  
When Humane Force could do no more; And when  
Our dying Hopes could ebb no lower;  
Did by a Turn, Miraculous Restore  
Our King to Us, Us to our King again.  
To bring which Blessed work to pass,  
Neither Man's Power, nor Policy had place;  
No Contract made, nor Blows were given;  
But the astonished World saw 'twas  
The stupendious work of Heaven!   

X.  
So Great a Monarch, and so Glorious,  
So much Beloved at Home, and Feared Abroad;  
(Much too Good alas! for Us:  
Wise as an Angel, Generous as a God—  
Though calmly Settled on a Lofty Throne,  
Was not above the Reach of Envious Looker's on:  
Which made him stand in need of heavens high Patronage;  
(And what he needed, he still had,)  
To Save his Crown and Person from the Rage  
Of Men (with too much Ease) gone Mad.  
Witness those Plots, the Faction's fruitful womb  
So oft Conceived, though still in vain,  
Against their Gracious Sovereign:  
(Where sometimes the Discoverer  
Played both the Devil and the Conjurer:)  
Which being by heavens great care Abortive still become,  
They added to the Wonders of his Reign:  
And made his Throne as fixed and Glorious, as Wain.   

XI.  
When lo! the Prince who seemed heavens chief Delight,  
Its Darling and Prime Favourite,  
His Midday Glory's all full Blown—  
How strangely are they Blasted, Ah! how soon!  
But what Heaven raised, Heaven only can pull down.  
Down low as Earth, this Son of the most High is come;  
And all his scattered Trophies serve, but to adorn his Tomb.  
But why! no Prodigy at all?  
No Beacon- Comet fired above?  
(No Monstrous Births, no Storms, no Whale,  
Or to Presage, Great KING thy Fall,  
Or to attend thy Funeral?)  
Which Nature's fright might show, and Mankind's wonder move.  
Why (seeing a wondrous Star Proclaimed his Birth,)  
Did not as Wondrous an Eclipse foretell his leaving Earth?  
Must Godlike KINGS like Puny Mortals die?  
Must CHARLES the most August—  
Be meanly crumbled like Plebeian Dust?  
Why dealest thou with th' Anointed, O King of Princes! why?   

XII.  
But while thus Ravingly I spoke,  
With a strange Horror I was struck,  
Which dimmed my Eyes, loosened my Joints, and chilled my Blood,  
Before me strait a Visionary somewhat stood;  
Whose Form I could not well discern;  
The Genius, likely, of the place,  
Or some such Airy Image 'twas;  
Of Stature high, Clad in Blue mists, Its Visage stern:  
Which with an angry Hallow Tone  
Thus stopped me—  
" Shall Mortal wight dare to reprove,  
" Or pry into the things above?  
" The Prince whose Death you so bemoan,  
" Was he not th' Almighty's Loan?  
" Who only has took what was his own.  
" His Awful Mien, and Heavenly Eyes,  
" Which made all Hearts his Votaries;  
" His Soul so Soft, yet truly Great,  
" His Mind so clear, and so Sedate,  
" Proved well his Extract from the Skies.   

XIII.  
With Milder accent, and Genteeler look,  
The Spirit, (less Frightful now,) thus farther spoke.  
" Then if your much-Lamented King  
" So Good and Amiable was;  
" Why would you have some dreadful thing  
" The smoothness of his Reign deface?  
" Let Tyrant's and Usurpers have  
" Sea-Monsters, and Rough Hurricanes  
" Foretell their Death, and dig their Grave,  
" Such Prodigies suit well their Reigns:  
" Comets have still a noisy end,  
" When calmly does the Sun descend.  
" Or if you must have Prodigies,  
" Think of the Millions of Weeping Eyes,  
" The Truest kind of Elegies;  
" Or else let This be reckoned one,  
" That 'tis a Prodigy— That you have none.  
" In Halcyon-days you Dove like-Prince was born,  
" Which did with him return;  
" His Realms five Lustres have Peace's white Livery worn;  
" Living, He Peace bestowed on every side,  
" Kept all in Peace, and Peaceably He Died.   

XIV.  
It scarce had spoke; when, Lo! a sudden Thunder  
(For such at first it did appear)  
Shaked the Thin Ghost asunder;  
Which straight dissolved into its Primitive Air.  
From the cold Turf I quickly raised my Head,  
Left there my Load of Grief, and to the, Town for shelter fled;  
e'er (as I thought) the Storm should fall upon my Head.  
The City soon I reached, helped with the wings of Fear:  
But my old Grief and Fright soon changed into new Dread and Wonder  
When, what I took for Thunder's noise,  
A second Peal informed me was the Canon's roaring voice;  
Which led me to a Loyal Crowd  
That with Great Triumph did Proclaim,  
With Joyful Shouts and Acclamations Loud,  
A new King's Title, and Imperial Name.  
Amazed at This so easy Change, I said,  
May this Prodigious Shout strike all His Enemies dead—  
Long, and as this Day Peaceful be his Reign,  
And may His Godlike Brother live in Him again,   

XV.  
Poets of old, were Prophets, deemed;  
And if They now were such esteemed,  
(And who knows but they may?)  
If our Predicting Rhimes  
May lucky Omens prove to after Times,  
And, that some Good may be presaged from Names;  
Then would I boldly say  
These Reams are doubly blest in that of JAMES.  
Great Britain's Glory did Commence  
When the First JAMES did to the whole give Law:  
He Joined the Kingdoms, and derived from thence  
That long white Row of Peaceful years our Happy Fathers saw.  
The Second JAMES by Heaven's Decree  
Will the great Healer of our Breaches be,  
And as His Wisdom does already give our Fears Relief,  
So will His Mercy suddenly Cure all our Public Grief.  
Well-skilled He is in all His Royal Grandsire's Arts,  
Who joined both Crowns, as He will do all Hearts.  
May Heaven fulfil, and own the Prophecy;  
But Ireland, sure, above the rest  
In that Auspicicious Name is doubly blest:  
For while the Royal JAMES the English Crown does wear,  
And Ormond's Noble JAMES remains His Viceroy here,  
IRELAND will ne'er again know cause of Public Grief, or Fear.    

Printed by Nath. Thompson, at the Entrance into the Old-Spring-Garden near Charing-Cross, 1685.