Britain's Triumph, FOR HER Imparalleled Deliverance, And her Joyful Celebrating the PROCLAMATION Of her most Gracious, Incomparable KING CHARLES THE SECOND, etc.  
Defender of the FAITH.  
C. R.  
Being a happy Forerunner of the Day of his Nativity, and as is hoped of his Coronation.  
London, Printed for W. Palmer at the Palm-treee, near St. Dunstan's Church in Fleetstreet, 1660.   

To the Worshipful and truly Honourable Alderman RICHARD BROWNE, Major General of the Famous City of London; AND Alderman JOHN ROBINSON, Colonel of the Green Regiment: True patterns of Cordial Loyalty to their KING, Faithful Patriots of their Country, and deserving Members of that Noble Metropolis, in which they are Exemplary Citizens and Gallant Commanders, LONDON.  

HEroick souls, to you belongs of right,  
This, whatsoever it is, I wish it might  
Answer my wishes, and your due desert,  
But as it is, accept I pray the heart  
Of him, who most ambitious is to serve  
You to his utmost power, who deserve  
Immortal honour, for what you have done  
In order to bring back th' Heir to's Crown.  
Your grateful Country doth confess your praise,  
London by your help now Triumphs in Bays,  
Which formerly did droop, the way was led  
By that Great George, who struck our Dragon dead,  
He led the Van, you followed in the Rear,  
Your Loyalty now shines like Crystal clear.  
Accept (great Souls) these ruder lines, which I  
Intent, to Celebrate your memory,  
Such as they are, my goodwill may express  
The Lady's fair, though in a homely dress.   
Worthy and Worshipful Your faithful Honourer Though undeserving Servant G. S.   

Britain's Triumph.  

1.  
AWake my Muse, let thy dull spirits be raised,  
Shake off thy former drowsiness, from sleep  
Rouse up thy heavy soul, let him be praised  
Who from Destructions pit, out of the deep  
Of troubles hath these Nations three redeemed,  
When to all mortal eyes they helpless seemed.   

2.  
Like to a Ship in storm, three Kingdoms lay  
Upon Afflictions raging Billows tossed:  
The Pilot o'er board thrown, (O dismal day!)  
The Rudder of our Government quite lost.  
Our Sun of happiness had hid his head,  
And darkness our Horizon overspread.   

3.  
The Birds of darkness every where appeared,  
With frightful shrieks which fluttered to and fro▪  
Goblins and Elves in every place were heard,  
Hags and Infernal Furies here below,  
Had made their Mansion, and resolved to dwell,  
Thus England seemed the Suburbs of Black Hell.   

4.  
After a long Night, lo our Sun appears,  
Dispelling Mist and Fogs with his bright beams,  
His heat and light, one warmth, th'other cheers▪  
Our frozen, drooping spirits, so that streams  
Of Joy now wash away the tears of grief,  
From him our woes all find their full relief.   

5.  
Charles! glorious Name! but glorious more by fare!  
Of it the Subject, our Dread Sovereign▪  
Son of Great Charles, who now a sparkling Star  
In Heaven shines, his Son (long may he reign!)  
Our Sun on Earth, let him excel in glory,  
His famous Father, matchless in any story.   

6.  
Rest, Sacred, Royal Dust! sleeping in hope,  
Thy Martyred Body Christ's appearing waits,  
While thy thrice blessed Soul, with Eyes wide ,  
Beholds his glory, thus those dismal Fates,  
Which snatched thee from us, did but only lead  
Thy spotless, Bridelike spirit to Christ her Head.   

7.  
And thou the Son of an unpatterned Sire  
Who giv'st us hopes that him thou wilt excel,  
Long mayst thou live, thy Subjects chief desire,  
In pride of whom England shall shortly swell,  
And bid defiance to her proudest Foes,  
Charles! thou alone her bleeding wounds couldst close.   

8.  
Skilful Physician! who with Sovereign Balm  
Three Kingdoms almost wounded to the death,  
Didst know to cure, who so great a Calm  
After so fierce a Tempest, with thy breath,  
(Thy Princely breath) to this tossed Ship couldst bring,  
Which owns no Pilot but her lawful King.   

9  
I'th' Month of May, most pleasant of the Spring,  
When Nature seemeth in her greatest pride,  
Latona decked with Flowers, Birds which sing  
Sweetly upon each bow i'th' Woods are spied,  
Two days before its Exit, did appear  
A Noonday Star in England's Hemisphere.   

10.  
That day, O happy day! behold a Son  
To Charles our King, (than happy King!) was born,  
Three Nations joy and pride, what was not done,  
His Princely pomp, (when Christened) to adorn?  
He as his Father's Heir, his Royal Name,  
Inherits first, and best it him became.   

11.  
Charles! Son of Charles, thus enters England's Stage,  
Whose birth (his Saviour like) a Star did show,  
An Omen, that he first should feel the rage  
Of Persecutors, and should glorious grow,  
By suffering first, this was our Prince's Fate,  
Whom Hell's Afflictions led to Heaven's Gate.   

12.  
Ten years and scarce six Months this Royal Bud  
Had grown upon the Sacred Princely Stock  
When sad divisions, like a fearful flood,  
Did threaten Majesty, against which Rock  
So many swelling waves and billows beat,  
That overturned at last the Royal Seat.   

13.  
His, and his countries' Father by the stream,  
Carried with violence into the Deep,  
This Infant Prince beholds, (poor soul) a Theme  
Too sad to think on, thinking makes him weep,  
And every object doth augment his grief,  
Pit●'d by some, yet finds of none relief.   

14.  
Thus lives our Sovereign Lord, whom sorrows School,  
For twice ten years, had pious wisdom taught,  
While Villainous Usurpers think to rule  
His Kingdoms by an Iron Rod, which brought  
The milder Sceptre into due esteem.  
When Saints in Title, Real Monsters seem.   

15.  
Then all men loathe Usurped Tyranny,  
Wish for their Kings Return in safety home,  
Repent their long expressed cruelty  
Toward so sweet a Prince, whom only some  
(Out of a guilty fear) kept in Exile,  
Oppressing all his Loyal Friends the while.   

16.  
The same Month which the joyful news did bring,  
(Before it's Exit) of this Prince's birth,  
Now enters with the Tidings of our King,  
(Tidings most full of Joy, and real Mirth)  
When thrice ten years over his head had passed,  
(Our King before) our King is owned at last.   

17.  
Ring out proud Bells, let these our Joys resound,  
In every Steeple through this grateful Isle,  
The Ecchoe's from all Counties let rebound  
Back to this Joyful City, and the while  
Quite tired Phoebus, in the Ocean hides  
His weary beams, let Bonfires be our Guides.   

18.  
Thus we the darkness of the Night will turn,  
To artificial daylight, and each street,  
For want of Fuel, shall their Sign-posts burn,  
The painted Lamb and Wolf in flames shall greet  
Each other, proud thus to express their Joy,  
That Charles shall come, whom fiends sought to destroy.   

19  
And now the day approaches, which did see  
Our Charles (at one view) both a Man and Prince,  
A Prince not greater by descent, than he,  
Equals his birth by merit, who long since,  
Compelled his Foes his Valour for to own,  
And yet as merciful, as stout is known.   

20.  
Charles, that the World may know, how near he comes  
Unto his Saviour's pattern, thirty years  
Passeth more silently, Trumpets and Drums  
Sometimes awake his Courage, and the fears  
Of his aspiring Enemies, who still,  
Seem for to prosper, and to have their will.   

21.  
But when thrice ten years of his Age are past,  
Or thereabouts, behold our Royal King  
Is owned publicly, and for a taste  
Of England's love, and bounty, Bells do ring,  
Bonsires' shine, Moneys are freely lent,  
And for a Present to our Charles are sent.   

22.  
With Expectation great the Eighth of May  
Doth add Encouragement to former hope,  
This was to London a Triumphant day,  
Those who in darkness seemed before to grope,  
Now opened have their Eyes, and clearly see,  
England's Restorer can be none but he.   

23.  
Oh! he that saw the joy expressed that day,  
The people's concourse, and their lively shout,  
Who so had heard, how every one did pray  
For this King's Health, could entertain no doubt,  
But that as he is Heaven's Darling known,  
So him (as their chief good) his Subjects own.   

24.  
This was the Day wherein, (a turn most strange!)  
Our Peerless Prince, Son of a matchless Sire,  
From Palace-yard, down to the Royal Change  
Most solemnly, (by such who did aspire  
Him to Proclaim and hear) proclaimed and heard,  
Was, our true Sovereign, to all endeared.   

25.  
Then might you hear the spriteful shouts, and cries  
Long live our blessed King, Charles! pious Prince,  
Whose name with acclamations, rend the skies,  
And they their kind acceptance to evince,  
Let fall at first of Joy some sprinkling tears,  
But soon with his bright beams the Sun appears.   

26.  
Thus Heaven seems with Earth for to agree  
In paying this just debt to both their friend,  
The sky from Clouds and blustering winds was free,  
The streets, (proud of this Office) did attend  
On this Solemnity in cleanest dress,  
The very houses Joy seemed to express.   

27.  
Each Shop stood early , then soon was shut,  
Boasting their riches first to grace their King,  
On whom such dreadful reverence they put,  
That day to work is judged a fordid thing.  
Work they that list cries every Prentice Boy,  
This day I'll only sing, Vive la Roy.   

28.  
The London Trained Bands, glad that they might show  
Some signal token of their dear bought wit,  
Early in Arms appear, at length they know  
Rebellions sin, by punishment of it.  
All are resolved now to make appear  
Their Loyalty, unto their Sovereign dear.   

29.  
And that they may wash off the stain and blot,  
Contracted in these Wars first infancy,  
When 'gainst their King they took up Arms, whose lot  
It was to die his Subject's infamy.  
(Though Crowned himself with such a Crown of glory,  
Not to be paralleled by any story.)   

30.  
Now with a different, but better zeal  
One heart doth seem in each man's breast to dwell,  
All willing are a like the breach to heal,  
In forwardness all strive for to excel.  
So great appearance never England saw,  
Charles magnetisme did so strongly draw.   

31.  
The streets too narrow to receive the throng,  
Were of themselves most ready to make room,  
Nature our King to gratify did long,  
Dispensed with her dimensions law, for whom  
A man would think five streets could scarce receive  
Find place, yet for the show due space do leave.   

32.  
Gallant spectators every room do fill  
Whose prospect forward lay unto the street,  
Each window stored with Ladies, who with still  
And silent Eloquence, their sovereign greet;  
Their graceful countenances, beauty's choice,  
Their cheerful smiles, made even the stones rejoice.   

33.  
The splendid Servants of these charms divine,  
Each one his Mistress stood observant by,  
Yet seem regardless of her beauty's shrine,  
A rarer object, had rapt every eye.  
Love charms are idle toys, the only thing  
Which all attend, is to proclaim their KING.   

34.  
The ruder sort of Mankind, that stood by,  
Both old and young, servants, both maids and men,  
Poor Tradesmen likewise, 'mongst themselves did vie,  
Who should express affection most, for when,  
The name of CHARLES did in their ears but sound,  
Their Acclamations rend the very ground.   

35.  
The Soldiers in most splendid equipage  
Attend, this Joyful day to Celebrate,  
Each one a young man seemed, for elder age,  
This news had changed to a younger date:  
Among them were so many Volunteers,  
Six Regiments, an Army great appears.   

36.  
You would have thought that every one in Arms,  
Had there appeared a Lady for to win;  
So called, so cheerful, as if all the charms  
Of Love each breast possessed had, but sin  
Each man (that day) accounted such a thought,  
Thee, thou, O Charles! (none other) there they sought.   

37.  
Each Alderman who there was in Command,  
Exchanged his Scarlet Robe for Warlike dress:  
Robinson of the Green, his Trained band  
To Fleetstreet led, to be in readiness  
The Proclamation to attend, so soon  
As it the City entered, which was done.   

38.  
Stout Browne who led the Horse, was ready there  
In this great Solemn Scene to act his part,  
And stately did perform it, every where  
Throughout his Regiment, both voice and heart  
Concur, thy Title just, great Charles! by word,  
As to proclaim, so to defend by Sword.   

39  
Oh! what a gallant sight, 'twas to behold,  
The sprightly flower of the London youth,  
Outvying one another, in their bold  
Defence of Charles their King, whom with one mouth  
They all Proclaim their only sovereign Lord,  
And do defy his foes with one accord.   

40.  
Their Swords aloft over their heads they wave,  
God bless King CHARLES the Second, is the cry:  
Their glittering weapons, with their clothes most brave,  
Do make a glorious object to the eye:  
This adds a lustre, but the cause of joy,  
Is that we hear Proclaimed, Vive la roy.   

41.  
This cry the hearers so affects, that they,  
Echo it back again with such a voice,  
As shows a true affection, Happy day  
Saith every one, the very streets rejoice:  
Guns, Drums and Trumpets, rend the skies with noise,  
Th' earth quakes with shouting of the London Boys.   

42.  
The prancing Horses very richly dressed,  
With riders who excelled in gallantry:  
Their joy together with their state expressed,  
All ravished seem with Charles his memory.  
The very houses wondered at this chance,  
For joy the pavements ready were to dance.   

43.  
Th' old drooping Churches, who had long been robbed  
Of their most faithful Preachers, and for fear  
Of never having them again, had sobbed,  
And in sad grief had let drop many a tear:  
Do now rejoice at this approaching show,  
The Bells themselves to ring are ready too.   

44.  
Long live King CHARLES, the very stones would cry  
Should men be silent, yea the very Drums,  
Trumpets and Guns, to all the standers by,  
(Sometimes, though seldom, as to pass it comes,  
I know not by what fate) seemed to Proclaim,  
(The best of Monarches) great King Charles' name.   

45.  
Now comes the matchless show, and it to meet,  
London's Lord Major, and the Aldermen,  
In all their Pomp, the welcome Heralds greet,  
At Temple-bar, where that was done again  
Which was done twice before, at Palace yard  
And at Whitehall, Great Charles, our King declared.   

46.  
Th' attendants did withal solemnity  
Perform their charge, and did such joy express  
As might become the dread of Majesty,  
Awful by right, yet lovely neretheless.  
Now England once more on her basis stands,  
She hath her King, though yet he want his Lands.   

47.  
To grace this sight both Houses now combine,  
On it who with their Speakers do attend;  
While Rumpish Lenthal sat at home, and whined  
That his longwinded speaking had such end.  
Yet one who once abjured both King and Duke,  
Reputes (as some say) limping, Rumpish Luke.   

48.  
O that the Preaching Statesman had been there,  
And heard Proclaimed his old Master's Son,  
Whom basely he betrayed, t'have seen his cheer,  
How like a patiented of Doctor Dun  
He ' damn looked, would doubtless have increased the joy,  
To see him louting, like the Hangman's boy.   

49.  
Now Lord of durham's Bishopric! what cheer?  
No thoughts now how to cheat poor CoKinwood?  
To bribe a Jury? hire men to swear?  
To turn the City to a bath of blood?  
To fire the houses? and the Goldsmiths plunder?  
Poor Arthur's jawfaln, is not that a wonder?   

50.  
Lord! what a Lord is Monson now become?  
The Lord knows what, but every one knows where  
He is to go, there is an equal doom  
On him, and Harry Martin, who's in fear,  
To live in Goal, will be too mild a fate,  
The hopes of both are gone with their Free-state.   

51.  
Good Master Cecil, how like you this news?  
Cry mercy Sir, I mean an Earl, I think,  
But know not well, yet something on you shows  
Like to a badge of honour, though it stink  
So Rumpishly, that jabhor the smell,  
You have a neighbour by you, stinks as well.   

52.  
Oh! fie my Lords you make me hold my nose,  
Basely degenerated Rumpish Earls!  
Vile self-degrading Peers! I'd rather choose  
T'have been transmuted into Country carls.  
Self do, self have, no wise man need to grieve,  
A self undoing fool, who would relieve?   

53.  
Poor Tom, by Nation English, by name Scot,  
What shall I say thy chance for to condole?  
Some say th' hast got (privily) God knows what,  
And some men guess, at Hockley in the hole.  
Hadst thou but seen the triumph of that day,  
IT had made thee quickly Tom of Bedlam play.   

54.  
What pity 'tis that Bradshaw went to Hell  
So long before his time, upon whose Hearse  
So many tears from sobbing Needham fell,  
Whose grief made him forget to weep in Verse,  
But sniveled out in Prose his Patron's praise,  
'Twas well his own cursed hands cut short his days.   

55.  
So died accursed Pilate, as is told  
By some who writ of his deserved end;  
Who ignorantly setenced Christ, but bold  
Villainous Bradshaw, like a hellish fiend,  
Knew, yet condemned his most guiltless King,  
No hands like to his own, his death to bring.   

56.  
Now Needham get the rod of Mercury  
His Caducean Rod, and once more change  
Thy Knavish shape, 'thas been thy policy  
To turn with times, but this a turn too strange  
For thee to turn with, therefore turn aside,  
And take with thee the Hangman for thy Guide.   

57  
But who appears here with the Curtain drawn?  
What Milton! are you come to see the sight?  
Oh Image-breaker! poor Knave! had he sawn  
That which the fame of, made him cry outright.  
He ' add taken counsel of Achitophel,  
Swung himself weary, and so gone to Hell.   

58.  
This is a sure Divorce, and the best way,  
Seek Sir no further, now the trick is found,  
To part a sullen Knave from's Wife, that day,  
He doth repent his Choice, stabbed, hanged or drowned,  
Will make all sure, and further good will bring,  
The wretch will rail no more against his King.   

59  
What news from th' Ocean, I fain would know?  
How doth the Rota turn? my pretty Boys,  
What hopes Republicans in such a show?  
Certainly these are Babylonish toys.  
Poor Overton! himself who long did gull  
With hopes that Christ would come and land at Hull.   

60.  
Forsaken Fleetwood who of Fate complained,  
Because she threw so great a stumbling-block  
I'th' way of his Rebellion, how disdained  
He was, and how God seemed his Prayers to mock,  
Ninive's Fast he fasted to no end,  
God in his face threw dirt, nor would attend.   

61.  
Despairing Lambert! whither wilt thou run?  
However let him scape he humbly begs:  
Hardhearted Ingoldby, couldst not be won  
To let this Valiant Champion use his legs,  
When his hands failed him? O man forlorn!  
Who might have pushed, yet did not use his horn.   

62.  
Okey what wilt thou do? there's no more Rump,  
The Devil lately claimed it as his Fee,  
Took it, and picked it to the very stump,  
Threw Barebones in his fire, there let him be,  
he's well content may but his windows scape,  
Then he'll Praysegod, and charter like an Ape.   

63.  
The rest who thought that Christ would come as King,  
And reign among them, but mistook the time,  
Which they were confident would be this Spring,  
And were providing for to welcome him,  
It is but fit they should both weep and bleed,  
Who were so confident, yet lost their Creed.   

64.  
Foolish fanatics, now at last repent,  
What means this Idle caterwauling Mew,  
Who with his Brother Barebones idly went,  
With a Petition of the Devils hue:  
How scape his windows? Praysegods' Boys did souse;  
So, thrice, he seemed to keep a Brothell-house.   

65.  
Like fate, 'tis pity but that all should find,  
Who have so to their Reason bid adieu,  
As for to be of such a sottish mind  
To leave Old Treasure for Toys that are new,  
T'abjure our King, (whom God preserve in health)  
To set up a Fanatic Commonwealth.   

66.  
But now since our Distractions cause is gone,  
And all our breaches likely to be healed.  
Oh! let this King be dear by whom 'tis done,  
Let former grudges ever be concealed,  
Let them no more revive, but buried lie,  
And be forgot unto Eternity.   

67.  
Once more we see our Nobles in esteem,  
Who all in state did solemnly attend,  
To pay this long due debt, was't not a dream?  
Or was it real? to me it real seemed,  
And yet a dream appeared, a turn so strange!  
Eight Months ago, who would dream such a Change?   

68  
Long let thy Name live most hereick soul,  
Who of this Change was the grand Instrument.  
Let Monks Name famous be, who did control  
That Dragon's Tail of Monstrous Government,  
Made Lambert jump into a Muddy Ditch,  
And made the Rump scratch where it did not itch.   

69.  
Will. Lenthall spoke so long till he was hearse,  
Now he is speechless, Sexton toll the Bell,  
If but a Quinsy trouble him, perforce  
Let Ropewort cure him, 'twill make him well,  
If Haslerig or Vane should chance to faint,  
Hemp is a strengthner, fit for such a Saint.   

70.  
Lawson (its like) may chance to learn more wit,  
Taking Example from some rash men's harms,  
Who were of his Fraternity, and split  
Upon the Rock of rashness, soft fire warms,  
Too great consumes, just so it is with Zeal,  
Blind, fiery, makes breaches, mild, doth heal.   

71.  
Let us at length be all united close  
And firmly bound to this our matchless Prince,  
Let's grudge him nothing, let not baseness lose  
Our choicest good on Earth his love, but since  
None but his Art our grief knew to allay,  
'Tis most just we should for the medicine pay.   

72.  
Live long Most blessed Sovereign, and let  
Thy Birthday (which is coming) see thee Crowned,  
God grant this Sun of ours may not set,  
Till Olive Branches stand thy Table round.  
Thus, when to Nestor's years, in peace thou hast  
Us Governed, and shalt yield to Fate at last,  
May thy more happy Son ascend thy Throne,  
When thou shalt change Earth's for a Glory's Crown.   
Sic lusit Poemate fausto, ad Calendas May, 1660. G. S.  
FINIS.