ODE, UPON The Blessed Restoration and return OF HIS SACRED majesty, Charles the Second.  
By A. COWLEY.  Virgil.— 
Quod optanti diuúm promittere nemo  
Auderet, volvenda dies, en, attulit ultro.  
LONDON, Printed for Henry Herringman, and are to be sold at his Shop on the Lower walk in the New Exchange.  
Anno Dom. 1660.   

ODE  

1.  
NOw Blessings on you all, ye peaceful stars,  
Which meet at last so kindly, and dispense  
Your universal gentle Influence,  
To calm the stormy World, and still the rage of wars▪  
Nor whilst around the Continent,  
Plenipotentiary Beams ye sent,  
Did your pacific Lights disdain,  
In their large Treaty, to contain  
The World apart, o'er which do reign  
Your seven fair Brethren of great Charles his wain;  
No Star amongst ye all did, I believe,  
Such vigorous assistance give,  
As that which thirty years ago,  
At 
* The Star that appeared at Noon, the day of the King's Birth, just as the King his Father was riding to St. Paul's to give thanks to God for that Blessing.  Charles his Birth, did, in despite  
Of the proud Sun's Meridian Light,  
His future Glories, and this Year foreshow,  
No less effects than these we may  
Be assured of from that powerful Ray,  
Which could outface the Sun, and overcome the Day.   

2  
Auspicious Star again arise,  
And take thy Noon-tide station in the skies.  
Again all Heaven prodigiously adorn;  
For lo! thy Charles again is Born.  
He then was born with, and to Pain;  
With, and to Joy he's born again.  
And wisely for this second Birth,  
By which thou certain wert to bless  
The Land with full and flourishing happiness  
Thou mad'st of that fair Month thy choice,  
In which Heaven, air, and Sea, and Earth,  
And all that's in them all does smile, and does rejoice.  
'Twas a right Season, and the very Ground  
Ought with a face of paradise to be found,  
Than when we were to entertain  
Felicity and Innocence again.   

3  
Shall we again (good Heaven!) that blessed Pair behold,  
Which the abused People fondly sold  
For the bright Fruit of the Forbidden Tree,  
By seeking all like gods to be?  
Will Peace her Halcyon Nest venture to build  
Upon a Shore with shipwrecks filled?  
And trust that Sea, where she can hardly say,  
Sh'has known these twenty years one calmy day?  
Ah! mild and gaullesse Dove,  
Which dost the pure and candid Dwellings love:  
Canst thou in Albion still delight?  
Still canst thou th●nk it White?  
Will ever fair Religion appear  
In these deformed ruins? will she clear  
Th' Augaean Stables of her Churches here?  
Will Justice hazard to be seen  
Where a High Court of Justice e'er has been?  
Will not the tragic Scene,  
And Bradshaw's bloody Ghost affright her there,  
Her who should never fear?  
Then may Whitehall for Charles his Seat be fit  
If Justice shall endure at Westminster to sit.   

4.  
Of all, methinks, we least should see  
The cheerful looks again of Liberty.  
That Name of Cromwell, which does freshly still  
The Curses of so many sufferers fill,  
Is still enough to make her stay,  
And jealous for a while remain,  
Lest as a Tempest carried him away,  
Some Hurican should bring him back again.  
Or she might justlier be afraid  
Lest that great Serpent, which was all a tail,  
(And in his boys ' nous folds whole Nations prisoners made)  
Should a third time perhaps prevail  
To join again, and with worse sting arise,  
As it had done, when cut in pieces twice.  
Return, return, ye Sacred four,  
And dread your perished Enemies no more,  
Your fears are causeless all, and vain  
whilst you return in Charles his Train,  
For God does Him, that He might You restore,  
Nor shall the world him only call,  
Defender of the Faith, but of ye All.   

5.  
Along with you Plenty and Riches go,  
With a full Tide to every Port they flow,  
With a warm fruitful wind o'er all the Country blow▪  
Honour does as ye march her Trumpet sound  
The Arts encompass you around,  
And against all Alarms of Fear,  
Safety itself brings up the Rear.  
And in the head of this Angelique band,  
Lo, how the Goodly Prince at last does stand  
(O righteous God) on his own happy Land.  
'Tis Happy now, which could, with so much ease  
Recover from so desperate a Disease,  
A various complicated Ill,  
Whose every symptom was enough to kill,  
In which one part of Three frenzy possessed,  
And Lethargy the rest.  
'Tis Happy, which no Bleeding does endure  
A surfeit of such Blood to cure.  
'Tis Happy, which beholds the Flame  
In which by hostile hands it ought, to burn,  
Or that which if from Heaven it came  
It did but well deserve, all into Bonfire turn.   

6.  
We feared (and almost touched the black degree  
Of instant Expectation)  
That the three dreadful Angels we  
Of Famine, Sword, and Plague should here established see,  
(God's great Triumvirate of Desolation)  
To scourge and to destroy the sinful Nation.  
Justly might heaven Protectors such as those,  
And such Committees for their Safety ' impose,  
Upon a Land which scarcely Better Chose.  
We feared that the fanatic War  
Which men against God's Houses did declare,  
Would from th' Almighty Enemy bring down  
A sure destruction on our Own,  
We read th' instructive Histories which tell  
Of all those endless mischiefs that befell,  
The Sacred Town which God had loved so well,  
After that fatal Curse had once been said,  
His Blood be upon ours, and on our Chilarens head.  
We knew, though there a greater Blood was spilled,  
'Twas scarcely done with greater Guilt.  
We know those miseries did befall  
whilst they rebeled against that Prince whom all  
The rest of Mankind did the Love, and Joy, of Mankind call.   

7.  
Already was the shaken Nation  
Into a wild and deformed Chaos brought.  
And it was hasting on (we thought)  
Even to the last of Ills, Annihilation.  
When in the midst of this confused Night,  
Lo, the blessed Spirit moved, and there was Light.  
For in the glorious general's previous Ray,  
We saw a new created Day.  
We by it saw, though yet in Mists it shone,  
The beauteous Work of Order moving on,  
Ere the Great Light, our Sun, his Beams did show,  
Our Sun itself appears but now,  
Where are the men who bragged that God did bless,  
And with the marks of good success  
sign his allowance of their wickedness?  
Vain men! who thought the Divine Power to find  
In the fierce Thunder and the violent Wind:  
God came not till the storm was past,  
In the still voice of Peace he came at last.  
The cruel business of Destruction,  
May by the Claws of the great Fiend be done.  
Here, here we see th' Almighty's hand indeed,  
Both by the Beauty of the Work, we see't, and by the Speed.   

8.  
He who had seen the noble British Heir,  
Even in that ill disadvantageous Light,  
With which misfortunes strive t'abuse our sight;  
He who had seen him in his cloud so bright:  
He who had seen the double Pair  
Of Brothers heavenly good, and Sisters heavenly fair,  
Might have perceived (Methinks) with ease,  
(But wicked men see only what they please)  
That God had no intent t'extinguish quite  
The pious King's eclipsed Right.  
He who had seen how by the power Divine  
All the young Branches of this royal Line  
Did in their fire without consuming shine,  
How through a rough Red-sea they had been led,  
By Wonders guarded, and by Wonders fed.  
How many years of trouble and distress  
They'd wandered in their fatal Wilderness,  
And yet did never murmur or repine;  
Might (Methinks) plainly understand,  
That after all these conquered trials past,  
Th' Almighty Mercy would at last  
Conduct them with a strong unerring hand  
To their own promised Land.  
For all the glories of the Earth  
Ought to be ' entailed by right of Birth,  
And all Heaven's blessings to come down  
Upon his Race, to whom alone was given  
The double Royalty of Earth and Heaven,  
Who crowned the Kingly with the Martyr's Crown.   

9  
The Martyr's blood was said of old to be  
The seed from whence the Church did grow  
The royal Blood which dying Charles did sow,  
Becomes no less the seed of royalty.  
'Twas in dishonour sown,  
We find it now in glory grown,  
The Grave could but the dross of it devowr;  
'Twas sown in weakness, and 'tis raised in power.  
We now the Question well decided see,  
Which Eastern Wits did once contest  
At the Great Monarch's Feast,  
Of all on Earth what things the strongest be:  
And some for Women, some for Wine did plead;  
That is, for Folly and for Rage,  
Two things which we have known indeed  
Strong in this latter Age.  
But as 'tis proved by Heaven at length,  
The King and Truth have greatest strength,  
When they their sacred force unite,  
And twine into one Right,  
No frantic commonwealths or Tyrannies,  
No Cheats, and Perjuries, and Lies,  
No Nets of human Policies.  
No stores of Arms or Gold (though you could join  
Those of Peru to the great London Mine)  
No Towns, no Fleets by Sea, or Troops by Land,  
No deeply entrenched Islands can withstand,  
Or any small resistance bring  
〈…〉 and the unarmed King.   

10.  
The foolish Lights which travellers beguile,  
End the same night when they begin;  
No Art so far can upon Nature win  
As e'er to put out Stars, or long keep Meteors in.  
where's now that Ignis Fatuus, which erewhile  
Misled our wandering Isle?  
where's the Impostor Cromwell gone?  
where's now that Falling-star his Son?  
where's the large Comet now whose raging flame  
So fatal to our Monarchy became?  
Which o'er our heads in such proud horror stood,  
Insatiate with our ruin and our blood?  
The fiery tail did to vast length extend;  
And twice for want of Fuel did expire,  
And twice renewed the dismal Fire;  
Though long the tail, we saw at last its end.  
The flames of one triumphant day,  
Which like an Anti-Comet here  
Did fatally to that appear,  
For ever frighted it away;  
Then did th'allotted hour of dawning Right  
First strike our ravished sight,  
Which Malice or which Art no more could stay,  
Than Witches Charms can a retardment bring  
To the Resujcitation of the Day,  
Or Resurrection of the Spring.  
We welcome both, and with improved delight  
Bless the preceding Winter and the Night.   

11.  
Man ought his Future happiness to fear,  
If he be always Happy here.  
He wants the Bleeding Mark of Grace,  
The Circumcision of the Chosen race.  
If no one part of him supplies  
The duty of a Sacrifice,  
He is (we doubt) reserved entire  
As a whole victim for the Fire.  
Besides even in this World below,  
To those who never did Ill Fortune know,  
The good does naujeous or insipid grow.  
Consider man's whole Life, and you'll confess,  
The Sharp Ingredient of some bad success  
Is that which gives the taste to all his happiness.  
But the true Method of felicity,  
Is when the worst  
Of human Life is placed the first,  
And when the Child's Correction proves to be  
The cause of perfecting the Man;  
Let our weak days lead up the Van,  
Let the brave Second and Triarian Band,  
Firm against all impression stand,  
The first we may defeated see;  
The Virtue and the Force of these, are sure of victory.   

12.  
Such are the years (great Charles) which now we see  
Begin their glorious March with Thee:  
Long may their March to Heaven, and still Triumphant be.  
Now thou art gotten once before,  
Ill Fortune never shall o'ertake thee more.  
To see't again, and pleasure in it find,  
Cast a disdainful look behind,  
Things which offend, when present, and affright,  
In Memory, well painted, move delight.  
Enjoy then all thy ' afflictions now;  
Thy royal Father's came at last:  
Thy Martyrdom's already past.  
And different Crowns to both ye owe.  
No Gold did e'er the Kingly Temples bind,  
Than thine more tried and more refined.  
As a choice medal for Heaven's Treasury  
God did stamp first upon one side of Thee  
The Image of his suffering Humanity:  
On th'other side, turned now to sight, does shine  
The glorious Image of his Power Divine.   

13.  
So when the wisest Poets seek  
In all their liveliest colours to set forth  
A Picture of heroic worth,  
(The Pious Trojan, or the Prudent Greek)  
They choose some comely Prince of heavenly Birth,  
(No proud gigantic son of Earth,  
Who strives t'usurp the god's forbidden seat)  
They feed him not with Nectar, and the Meat  
That cannot without Joy be eat.  
But in the cold of want, and storms of adverse chance,  
They harden his young Virtue by degrees;  
The beauteous Drop first into Ice does freeze,  
And into solid crystal next advance.  
His murdered friends and kindred he does see,  
And from his flaming Country flee.  
Much is he tossed at Sea, and much at Land,  
Does long the force of angry gods withstand.  
He does long troubles and long wars sustain,  
Ere he his fatal birthright gain.  
With no less time or labour can  
Destiny build up such a Man,  
who's with sufficient virtue filled  
His ruined Country to rebuild.   

14.  
Nor without cause are Arms from Heaven,  
To such a Hero by the Poets given.  
No human metal is of force t'oppose  
So many and so violent blows.  
Such was the Helmet, breastplate, Shield,  
Which Charles in all attacks did wield:  
And all the weapons Malice e'er could try,  
Of all the several makes of wicked Policy,  
Against this Armour struck, but at the stroke,  
Like Swords of Ice, in thousand pieces broke.  
To angels and their Brethren Spritis above,  
No show on Earth can sure so pleasant prove,  
As when they great misfortunes see  
With Courage born and decency.  
So were they born when Worc'ster's dismal Day  
Did all the terrors of black Fate display.  
So were they born when no Disguises cloud  
His inward Royalty could shroud,  
And one of th' Angels whom just God did send  
To guard him in his noble flight,  
(A Troop of Angels did him then attend)  
Assured me in a Vision th'other night,  
That He (and who could better judge than He?)  
Did then more Greatness in him see,  
More Lustre and more Majesty,  
Than all his Coronation Pomp can show to Human Eye.   

15.  
Him and his royal Brothers when I saw  
New marks of honour and of glory,  
From their affronts and sufferings draw,  
And look like Heavenly Saints even in their Purgatory  
Me-thoughts I saw the three Judaean Youths,  
(Three unhurt Martyrs for the noblest Truths)  
In the Chaldaean Furnace walk;  
How cheerfully and unconcerned they talk!  
No hair is singed, no smallest beauty blasted;  
Like painted Lamps they shine unwasted.  
The greedy fire itself dares not be fed  
With the blessed oil of an anointed Head.  
The honourable Flame  
(Which rather Light we ought to name)  
Does, like a Glory, compass them around,  
And their whole Body's crowned.  
What are those Two Bright Creatures which we see  
Walk with the royal Three  
In the same ordeal fire,  
And mutual Joys inspire?  
Sure they the beauteous Sisters are,  
Who whilst they seek to bear their share,  
Will suffer no affliction to be there.  
Less favour to those Three of old was shown,  
To solace with their company.  
The fiery trials of Adversity;  
Two Angels join with these, the others had but One.   

16.  
Come forth, come forth, ye men of God beloved,  
And let the power now of that flame,  
Which against you so impotent became,  
On all your Enemies be proved.  
Come, mighty Charles, desire of Nations, come;  
Come, you triumphant Exile, home.  
He's come, he's safe at shore; I hear the noise  
Of a whole Land which does at once rejoice,  
I hear th'united People's sacred voice.  
The Sea which circles us around,  
Ne'er sent to Land so loud a sound;  
The mighty shout sends to the Sea a Gale,  
And swells up every sail;  
The Bells and Guns are scarcely heard at all;  
The artificial joys drowned by the natural.  
All England but one bonfire seems to be,  
One Aetna shooting flames into the Sea.  
The Starry Worlds which shine to us afar,  
Take ours at this time for a Star.  
With Wine all rooms, with Wine the Conduits flow;  
And We, the Priests of a poetic rage,  
Wonder that in this Golden Age  
The Rivers too should not do so.  
There is no Stoic sure who would not now,  
Even some excess allow.  
And grant that one wild fit of cheerful folly  
Should end our twenty years of dismal melancholy.   

17.  
Where's now the royal Mother, where,  
To take her mighty share  
In this so ravishing sight,  
And with the part she takes to add to the Delight?  
Ah! why art Thou not here,  
Thou always Best, and now the Happiest Queen,  
To see our Joy, and with new Joy be seen?  
God has a bright Example made of Thee,  
To show that womankind may be  
Above that Sex, which her Superior seems,  
In wisely managing the wide extremes  
Of great Affliction, great felicity.  
How well those different virtues Thee become,  
Daughter of Triumphs, Wife of Martyrdom!  
Thy Princely Mind with so much Courage bore  
Affliction, that it dares return no more;  
With so much goodness used felicity,  
That it cannot refrain from coming back to Thee;  
'Tis come, and seen to day in all its bravery.   

18.  
who's that heroic Person leads it on,  
And gives it like a glorious Bride  
(Richly adorned with nuptial Pride)  
Into the hands now of thy Son?  
'Tis the good general, the Man of Praise,  
Whom God at last in gracious pity  
Did to th'enthralled Nation raise,  
Their great Zerubabel to be,  
To lose the Bonds of long captivity,  
And to rebuild their Temple and their City.  
For ever blessed may He and His remain,  
Who, with a vast, though less appearing gain,  
Preferred the solid Great above the Vain,  
And to the world this Princely Truth has shown,  
That more 'tis to Restore, than to Usurp a Crown.  
Thou worthiest Person of the British Story,  
(Though 'tis not small the British glory)  
Did I not know my humble Verse must be  
But ill proportioned to the height of Thee,  
Thou, and the World should see,  
How much my Muse, the Foe of flattery,  
Does make true Praise her Labour and design;  
An Iliad or an Aeneid should be Thine.   

19  
And ill should we deserve this happy day,  
If no acknowledgements we pay  
To you, great Patriots, of the Two  
Most truly Other Houses now,  
Who have redeemed from hatred and from shame  
A Parliament's once venerable name.  
And now the Title of a House restore  
To that, which was but slaughter-house before.  
If my advice, ye Worthies, might be ta'en,  
Within those reverend places,  
Which now your living presence graces,  
Your Marble-Statues always should remain,  
To keep alive your useful memory,  
And to your Successors th'Example be  
Of Truth, Religion, Reason, loyalty.  
For though a firmly settled Peace  
May shortly make your public labours cease,  
The grateful Nation will with joy consent,  
That in this sense you should be said,  
(Though yet the Name sounds with some dread)  
To be the Long, the endless Parliament.  
'Twould be the richliest furnished House (no doubt)  
If your Heads always stood within, and the Rump-heads without.   
FINIS.