To the best of MONARCHES, His MAJESTY of GREAT BRITAIN, etc.  
CHARLES THE SECOND, A GRATULATORY POEM On the most happy Arrival of His most Excellent Majesty, CHARLES the Second, by the Grace of God, King of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland, who landed at Dover, Friday, May 25. 1660. to the most unspeakable Joy of His Subjects.  
Heaven at the Last hath heard my Prayers, I stand,  
Full of fair hopes to kiss my Prince's hand,  
And need no flames that may new heats infuse,  
Zeal can create a Verse without a Muse;  
The wounds I have received, the years I've spent,  
The months 've told in long imprisonment,  
I look on now with Joy; who would not be  
One day in Chains, to be for ever free?  
My Prayers are heard, the King Himself is come,  
The Grace and Glory of all Christendom.  
'Tis He repairs our Breaches, and restores  
The Land to safety, and doth heal our Sores;  
'tis He that strokes our Griefs, and wipes our Eyes,  
Sets us in order, and doth make us wise:  
For ne'er was Nation so before misled,  
To court the Tail, and make the Rump their Head.  
Where are the Saints now that would fain be known,  
To have no other Holidays but their own?  
Where are our cruel Regicids, and all  
That petulant crew we ANABAPTISTS call?  
Whose wild Religion, and whose zeal doth border,  
On Faction, Ruin, Falihood and Disorder;  
Whose Gospel speaks it is too hard a thing,  
To honour God, and to obey the King;  
And from their Bible's do expunge that Text,  
As too obliging, or too much perplexed:  
The day is now at hand that will declare,  
What men of Conscience, and what Saints they are,  
Who still pursue (oh most inhuman wrongs)  
The Lords Anointed with their threatening tongues;  
As if the Father slain, they had not done  
Enough, unless they massacred the Son:  
This to prevent, the King Himself draws nigh,  
Full of His Cause, His Eye with Majesty,  
His Brow with thunders armed, and on each hand  
The Youth of Heaven in files unnumbered stand,  
His glorious Guard; for to the world be't known,  
That Heaven is pleased to make this Cause his own:  
For who the King affront, the like would do  
Tothth' KING of Kings, could they come at Him too.  
Now as the Sun when his absented light  
Approacheth nearer Day, doth smile out right,  
And the thick Vapours of the night do fly  
In guilty Tumults from his searching Eye;  
So now the King in person hath begun  
To show himself like the Meridian Sun,  
To shine in all his Glories, and dispense  
Throughout the Land his powerful Influence;  
The clouds of bold Rebellion, the false light  
Of falser zeal, and Meteors of the Night,  
The sullen Vapours, and the Mists that made  
A great Confusion in so great a shade,  
Shall waste before him, as he comes our State's  
Extremes to temper; for it pleased the Fates,  
Though others travailed in the work, yet none  
Shall heal our Griefs, but who our hearts did own;  
Nor shall the North regain their ancient worth,  
But by that Monarch whom the North brought forth.  
And Fame no sooner to our ears did bring  
The welcome story of our landed King,  
But all the Lords and Gentry of the Land  
Made haste to wait upon his high Command,  
So full their Train, so gallant their Array,  
As if their splendour would outshine the day;  
Who all as soon as they the King displayed,  
Who can imagine what a shout was made?  
The glittering of their  outvy'd the Suns,  
Hats in the Air flew up, Guns roared to Guns,  
And Trumpets deafened Trumpets, who'd have thought  
These e'er in arms against each other fought?  
Th' outlandish that did mark it, and stood by,  
In our behalf all out aloud did cry,  
Was never Nation now more blest than we?  
Nor ever Monarch more admired then Herald  
How great will be our growing Joys we may  
Presume will Crown his Coronation Day?  
For to his matchless merit 'twill be more  
Then ever King of ENGLAND had before;  
At which, since Heaven and Earth with shouts doring,  
Let Heaven and Earth say both, GOD save the KING.  
S. HOLLAND.   

EDINBURGH, reprinted by Christopher Higgins, in Hearts Close, over against the Trone-Church, 1660.