CONGRATULATORY POEM Upon the Arrival of His Electoral HIGHNESS THE PRINCE PALATINE OF THE RHINE, Nephew to his Highness' Prince RUPERT.  

WElcome, great Prince, to Britain's happy Isle,  
Where all things now in peace and plenty smile;  
Where every Man what Peace and Plenty brings  
Tastes and enjoys, under the best of Kings.  
Whilst all the World around disturbed are,  
With the sad Whirlwind of devouring War.  
From Wars and Ruins, Mighty Sir, you come,  
And find us sleeping at our ease at home;  
We hear the Rumour, but with small Concern,  
And by Report alone we Troubles learn.  
Princes, like noted Stars, no Motions make,  
But every one doth Observation take:  
Their Progress and their Stations are set down,  
And all their Deviations are made known;  
Whilst other Men, like Stars of smaller light,  
Move unobserved, and twinkle out the Night.  
Let dull Astronomers observe the Stars,  
And from their Motions predict direful Wars,  
Foretell the Fate of Princes, Fools bewitch  
With future knowledge, till they're in the Ditch:  
Whilst Poet's Welcomes and loud Paeans sing,  
And happy Wishes as their Offerings bring.  
This Island can't but wish you all that's good,  
Since you proceed from its own Royal Blood.  
And the good will of Protestants you gain,  
For you their Cause with Courage do maintain:  
So that there seems a sympathy between  
Our Silver Thames, and your Vine-bearing Rhine.  
Then welcome, Sir, to our King's Royal Arms,  
Who's ready to redress all Europe's harms:  
Like Orpheus among ravenous beasts he stands,  
With his peace-causing Lute between his hands,  
On which with skilful Hands he gently plays,  
And the wild murmuring Rout his Notes obeys.  
Welcome to all, welcome above the rest,  
To our great Prince, your dearest Uncle's Breast.  
He once the Terrible, and now the Good,  
Amidst our Troubles, still unshaken stood:  
Like a firm Rock beat on with furious wav●●,  
All fortune's storms the Noble Prince out-braves.  
At home, abroad, what glorious Acts h'as done,  
Both for the Royal Father and the Son?  
Beyond your Rhine h'as spread his Conquering Fame,  
And all Men reverence rupert's mighty Name.  
A Name which like the Sun shall still shine bright,  
To Foes a Terror, and to Friend's delight.  
Welcome, great Prince, welcome the Poet sings,  
To this fair place, the Royal Seat of Kings,  
Where all things smile, and every one is bend  
To give your Highness' pleasure and content.  
At once your Highness may in Windsor see  
The Images of Peace and War agree;  
Beauty and strength together Married, shine,  
The seat of Majesty that seems Divine.  
The Walls, the Guns, and Troops of Soldiers are  
The Pictures and the Images of War;  
But yet you may behold, pleased, without doubt,  
Peace, glorious peace within, and round about:  
Within, the Court, and all its soft delights;  
Without, the Swain, now following Ceres' Rites;  
The Fields new shorn, and Barns all filled with Grain,  
And without fear, singing the Merry Swain.  
Thus show of War, and real Peace agree,  
And make betwixt them blessed Harmony.  
Whilst the French Boar doth ravage every where,  
And with his bloody Tusks gives dread and fear,  
You find us rocked in peace and quiet here.  
To this sweet Land of Peace you're welcome now,  
And may like Laurels in your Countries grow,  
May ours still flourish: for 'tis Peace and Love  
Makes Earth like Heaven, and Men like Saints above.    

LONDON: Printed for Langley Curtiss. 26. Aug. 1680.