POSTLIMINIA CAROLI II. THE PALINGENESY, OR, SECOND-BIRTH, OF CHARLES the Second to his Kingly Life; Upon the day of his First, May 29.  
By Abiel Borfet, M. A.   crown 
LONDON, Printed for M. Wright at the Kings-head in the Old-Baily, 1660. June 8.   

POSTLIMINIA CAROLI II.  

THat I, whom Nature never made a Poet,  
Nor was adopted once by Art unto it,  
Soare above Prose, and force my Novice-Quill  
To uncouth Laws against Minerva's will:  
It is no marvel, when my Subjects such,  
That Art and Nature can't do half so much;  
My Matter is my Muse, I find it here  
More easy task to write then to forbear.   

Fear made the dumb man speak, seeing the King  
Ready to perish. Wonder not if I sing,  
Though doubly tonguetied; seeing him renate:  
Since fear contracteth, but joy doth dilate.   

When Indignation made a verse before  
Upon the Rump, and lashed it o'er and o'er;  
Shall the Priest only, not the Poet shed  
Some oil of gladness on the sacred Head?   

No, though among those Stars, which did appear  
At his renewed Nativity this year,  
The true Platonic, when the Spheres are rolled  
Back to the Loyal points they kept of old;  
Although among those Stars, whose glorious train  
Was in conjunction with Charles his Wain,  
This be an half-mixt Meteor; yet give us  
Leave to bring forth our Ignis Fatuu●,  
A Pageant to the show: About a King  
Fools have an office; why not this I bring?  
His entrance, though contrived with costly Art,  
Denying not the Morris-dance a part;  
And, while the Canons of the Tower do roar,  
Accepting Muskets of a lesser bore.   

We can't augment the Glory of that day  
By this; yet thus Remember it we may:  
Our Torch may lose its own, not give a light  
Unto the Sun: but, when he's gone at night,  
May represent him; this commends my Theme,  
It's the Day's sight repeated in a Dream.   

But that I doubt, whether a Dream can tell  
An History, that's so Incredible;  
That Sight might pass for one, and make men think  
Their rising early on that Day did bringed.  
For like those Persians, which contended who  
Should see the Sun first at his rising; so  
We hasted to this sight, before the shine  
Of Charles his Phosphorus proclaimed the Sign.  
Some take the Vigils; some till Day defer,  
Thinking the Night too little to prepare:  
And will next day so much the longer lie,  
When they have seen our sleep's security.  
How many now can say, that they have seen  
The Sun to rise? which false before had been.  
The Virgins early walks sufficient were  
To banish the green sickness for a year:  
Old men were up, who meant not else to rise  
Until the Resurrection opeed their eyes.   

When other times I overtake and met  
So many various faces in the street;  
I think within myself, that each Man's End  
Is no less divers, which he doth intent?  
But by a common Physiognomy,  
I there discerned one sense in every Eye;  
An happy foretaste of our union,  
When multitudes thus lose themselves in One.  
Such multitudes within and out; that then  
The streets seemed paved, the Houses built with Men;  
The first I viewed, I though a Limners shop  
Faced with lively Pictures to the top;  
And wondered the Exchange, through which I passed,  
Was on the Southern side of Cornhill cast:  
It was a Frolic at my second view,  
Which all the Household at the Windows threw.  
For not an house appeared, which was not set  
So thick; the King might think his Kingdoms met,  
And that to show their Loyalty is true,  
They had turned inside outside to his view.   

Blessed Prince! whose Glory in great Numbers stands,  
That rather court then suffer his commands.  
More blessed Land! under that greater Soul,  
Worthy to rule the Sphere from Pole to Pole.  
How were we pressed, and like the Scaffolds built  
On one another's backs? yet never felt  
The weight with our light hearts: O let the King  
Still such oppressions, and such burdens bring.  
Let this be all the use of naked Blades,  
Of Drums, and Trumpets, and of armed Brigades:  
Let's know no other Soldiery but this,  
Whose brave Battalia's then brought in our Peace.  
Who will repine to give them now free Quarter,  
Whose Generals Belt is suppled to a Garter?  
How did they lose their Name, while we descried  
A Loyal Heart through an Iron side?  
They have unspelled that Proverbs mighty charms,  
Which striketh dumb the Laws 'mongst Martial Arms:  
For when I heard the Guns give forth their sense,  
My Ears thought Cooks Reports proceeded thence;  
Seeing their Buff, I fancied with my Eyes,  
Sure Magna Charta in that velum lies;  
Their Swords appeared as innocent and fair,  
As that which was supported by the Mayor;  
And as they passed the Goldsmith's company,  
Both Metals chinked a perfect Harmony.  
May they, who used Iron so justly, never  
Want Gold to change an Helmet for a Beaver!  
In these we saw the Body politic  
Restored to strength, which had so long been sick;  
With mighty Arms, and Iron-sinews strung:  
But we have stayed upon the strength too long.  
View we the Beauty now, which though my Ink  
Cannot resemble; yet be pleased to think  
How Venus' Mole was nothing like her Face,  
Yet by comparison did lend a Grace:  
My Pen,  lay but some black patches on  
That Day's fair Face, hath its Ambition.  
Thus may my shady praises give't some light,  
Because, compared, they are but black to white.   

Cornhill was Silverstreet, I will be bold  
To call't the Milken-way, creamed o'er with Gold,  
[While braver metal glisterens from among  
The English faces, than that Indian Dung]  
As much outshining that, which Poets call  
The 
a Ovid. Metamor. lib. 1.  Regent-walk to JUPITER'S white-hall;  
As Starry Orders of the primest size  
Outvie the small confused Sporades.  
They made their Progress here, who have the odds  
In all perfections of the Pagan Gods;  
Who had they lived of old, had been known by  
The Names of Neptune, Mars, and Mercury:  
When jupiter did with his thundering call  
Summon his Peerage to his judgement-hall  
In old Deucalion's days; Those Gods had then  
Less valour and less wisdom, than these Men  
Nor did ennoble Via Lactea,  
Like London-streets, through which these made their way   

Their outward splendors but a Foil to this  
Their Brighter fame: But yet, as He who is  
The true Autocalon, and doth outshine  
The most contrived Glory of his Shrine;  
Was glorified by the external gay  
Of th' Salomonjah Temple: so we may  
Not wrong the True worth of these Heroes,  
While we consider their Appendices.  
Here England's Youth we see renewed again,  
Blasted by twenty years of war in vain.  
The Fable made of Aeson, here is true,  
Who lost his old blood to be filled with new.  
As propagation of the Kind we call  
A step of Death to th' Individual:   

Accordingly it seems a Nation doth,  
While Single Persons lose it, gain her youth;  
For who can find so beautiful a show  
In all the Chronicles of Speed and Stow?  
Which, could it be described to the life,  
Will win to all past stories our belief;  
And strain the Faith of every future age,  
Till the great year rebuilds the present Stage.  
The Proverb said that England, were it tried  
Can not where match that Garden in Cheapside;  
Till the unfitness was by Tichbourn found,  
Who set that Eden in more holy ground:  
Let but the Proverb go for Prophecy,  
And who can give our Grandames teeth the lie?  
The Flowers of Noble Gentry, which our eyes  
There saw, did prove it England's Paradise.  
That Winter, under which so long they lay,  
Strengthening their Roots for the ensuing May;  
Proud to be Garlands for what greater grace,  
Our Tree of life, who in the Middle was;  
Under whose Shadow long may England dwell,  
Tasting the sweet Fruits of his ruling well!  
May he be a Forbidden fruit no more  
By Flaming Swords, which kept the way before!  
But let perennal happiness flow thence  
To his dominions circumference;  
As he that day the centre did appear,  
Scattering his lustre round the Theatre:  
All the Stars of which orb must needs confess,  
That this Sun lent them all their noble dress;  
And that the Names and Titles, which they bear,  
Begin with these two Capitals, C. R.   

That costly Wardrobe, which these persons decks,  
Is but th' unfolded Livery of Charles Rex;  
The naked letters signify the same,  
As when they're flourished with so long a train:  
All those contents are summed up in these two,  
The Title-page and Index of the show.   

But since we are born children, slaves to sense,  
And few in Reason's Art do Men commence,  
Being not capable to know a King,  
But as he's pictured in some gaudy thing;  
It's fit this useful Science go among  
The vulgar, written in their Mother-tongue,  
Described in all the Nations Pomp, which is  
No more than Charles in a Periphrasis.  
These ceremonies are in State, though not  
In Church, the best Books for the Idiot,  
Had the King shown his worth in making Laws  
Beyond th' Idea of the ancient Saws,  
That Plato's Commonwealth might seem to be  
Of later date, transcribed from him we see;  
Had he put forth his inward glory then,  
Which Angels are more fit to view then Men;  
He should have had but few spectators more,  
Then the invisible which Saints adore.  
But when he condescends to take from Us  
Some Glory; we do flock to see him Thus:  
Like those, who will not worship God, unless  
He bear their Image, and be rendered less,  
In whom the Fountain of their honour lies,  
By borrowed lustre from his votaries.  
So since that costly show I heard it said,  
These laymen's Books have many converts made;  
Who, since His species stamped it, do afford  
The Faith they feared to give his current word.   

See how all eyes delight on him to dwell,  
As Plato's Virtue now made visible:  
One strides a post, and makes a noted Sign;  
Yet they within the Tavern know no Wine:  
Another's Eyes heard by his Mistress were;  
Yet lose their object, and forget she's there:  
A thirds can see Him scarce, they are so dim  
With want of sleep, yet watch all day for Him:  
One Soldier, being hoarse with many a shout,  
Would choose to whistle rather than stand out:  
Our Acclamations rend the Heavens, to woe  
The Angel's Harmony with us below:  
Though Ringers stirred them not, the Church's Bells  
And Stones would cry out, Here our safety dwells.  
And when this Day was gone, we see no Night;  
The frequent Bonfires were Meridian light:  
And it's no marvel, when we were our own  
Antipodes, and this our Sun went down  
Amongst us; Hence those fiery pillars rise,  
London's black Night-Robes turned to scarlet Skies.  
The Country saw the brightness, and had run  
To quench the Towns, but that the cause was known:  
Who can think darkness in that night can dwell,  
Where the light lodgeth of our Israel?   

The Aspect of our Heaven had been complete,  
But that our Sun without a Moon did set.  
For in this single Scheam we could not view  
Our present fortune, and our future too:  
Though Charles were proof against his other foes,  
Our sins will kill Him, when, God only knovvs:  
Heaven send's a Queen, that may bring forth his Mind,  
And Travail with the Virtues of the Kind;  
A Prince so like him, that at length we might  
Behold the Royal Picture drawn aright.  
Till then the Painter, and the Poet too,  
Blaspheme him, and their colours Treason brew;  
His Pencil, and my Pen, deserve to feel  
The Fate, which t'other day befell the Seal:  
The Prince of Wales is only fit to be  
The King of England's pourtraicture. Thus we  
Shall have no new King, when the presents dead,  
But Charles himself shall to himself succeed.   

But this defect as yet is well supplied  
By the two Dukes, which road on either side;  
Like two Supporters of that Family,  
In whose extinction all the rest must Die.  
Whole Lands pay Tribute unto james, whole Seas  
Render him the just custom of his praise.  
Henry was born both Mars and Mercury,  
Valiant and Politic ex Traduce:  
When Charles the First was forced to mind the Art  
Of war, but studied Peace more in his Heart;  
When the Queen welcomed home an armed King,  
As Semele did jove in lightning.  
God grant we never come to need their Merit!  
Who say Amen, not wishing to inherit.  
Let this Payre-Royall [I may call them so,  
Whom Kingdoms want more, then They Kingdoms do]  
Let this Payre-Royall live in bliss and love,  
Like those I pray to, Three and One above.   
FINIS.