THE SPEECH Of Her Majesty the Queen Mother's Henrietta Maria PALACE, Upon the Reparation and Enlargement of it, by Her MAJESTY.  

WHen God (the Cause to Me and Men unknown)  
Forsook the Royal Houses, and his Own,  
And both abandoned to the Common Foe;  
How near to ruin did my Glories go?  
Nothing remained t' adorn this Princely place  
Which Covetous hands could Take or Rude Deface.  
In all my rooms and galleries I found  
The richest Figures torn, and all around  
Dismembered Statues of great Heroes lay;  
Such Naseby's Field seemed on the fatal Day.  
And Me, when nought for Robbery was left,  
They starved to death; the gasping walls were cleft,  
The Pillars sunk, the Roofs above me wept,  
No sign of Spring, or Joy, my Garden kept,  
Nothing was seen which could content the Eye,  
Till Dead the impious Tyrant Here did lie.   

See how my face is changed, and what I am  
Since my true Mistress, and now Foundress, came.  
It does not fill her Bounty to restore  
Me as I was (nor was I small) before.  
She imitates the Kindness to Her shown;  
She does, like Heaven (which the dejected Throne  
At once restores, fixes, and higher rears.)  
Strengthen, Enlarge, Exalt what she Repairs.  
And now I dare (though proud I must not be,  
Whilst my great Mistress I so Humble see  
In all her various Glories) now I dare  
Even with the proudest Palaces compare,  
My Beauty, and Convenience will (I'm sure)  
So just a boast with Modesty endure.  
And all must to me yield, when I shall tell,  
How I am placed, and Who does in me dwell.   

Before my gate a Street's broad Channel goes,  
Which still with Waves of crowding people flows,  
And every day there passes by my side,  
Up to its Western Reach, the London Tide,  
The Spring-Tides of the Term; my Front looks down  
On all the Pride, and Business of the Town.  
My other Front (for as in Kings we see  
The liveliest Image of the Deity,  
We in their Houses should heavens likeness find,  
Where nothing can be said to be Behind)  
My other fair and more Majestic Face  
(Who can the Fair to more advantage place?)  
For ever gazes on itself below  
In the best Mirror that the world can show.   

And here, Behold, in a long bending row,  
How two joint Cities make one glorious Bow,  
The Midst, the noblest place, possessed by Me;  
Best to be Seen by all, and all O'ersee.  
Which way soe'er I turn my joyful Eye,  
Here the Great Court, there the rich Town, I spy;  
On either side dwells Safety and Delight;  
Wealth on the Left, and Power upon the Right.  
T' assure yet my defence, on either hand,  
Like mighty Forts, in equal distance stand  
Two of the best and stateliest piles, which   
Man's liberal Piety of old did rear,  
Where the two Princes of th' Apostles Band,  
My Neighbours and my Guards, watch and command.   

My warlike Guard of Ships, which farther lie,  
Might be my Object too, were not the Eye  
Stopped by the Houses of that wondrous Street  
Which rides o'er the broad River, like a Fleet.  
The Streams eternal Siege they fixed abide,  
And the swollen Streams Auxiliary Tide,  
Though both their ruin with joint power conspire,  
Both to outbrave, they nothing dread but Fire.  
And here my Thames, though it more gentle be  
Than any Flood, so strengthened by the Sea,  
Finding by Art his Natural forces broke,  
And bearing, Captive-like, the Arched Yoke,  
Does roar, and foam, and rage at the disgrace,  
But recomposes straight and calms his Face,  
Is into reverence and submission struck,  
As soon as from afar he does but look  
Towards the White Palace where that King does reign  
Who lays his Laws and Bridges o'er the Main.   

Amidst these louder Honours of my Seat,  
And two vast Cities, troublesomly Great,  
In a large various plain the Country too  
Opens her gentler blessings to my View,  
In me the Active and the Quiet Mind  
By different ways equal content may find.  
If any prouder Vertuoso's sense  
At that part of my Prospect take offence,  
By which the meaner Cabanes are descried,  
Of my Imperial River's humbler side,  
If they call that a Blemish, let them know,  
God, and my Godlike Mistress, think not so;  
For the distressed and the afflicted lie  
Most in their Care, and always in their Eye.   

And thou, fair River, who still payest to Me  
Just Homage, in thy passage to the Sea,  
Take here this one Instruction as thou goest;  
When thy mixed Waves shall visit every Coast,  
When round the world their Voyage they shall make,  
And back to Thee some secret Channels take,  
Ask them what nobler sight they e'er did meet  
Except thy mighty Master's Sovereign Fleet,  
Which now triumphant o'er the Main does ride,  
The Terror of all Lands, the Ocean's Pride.   

From hence his Kingdom's Happy now at last,  
(Happy, if Wise by their Misfortunes passed)  
From hence may Omens take of that success  
Which both their future Wars and Peace shall bless:  
The Peaceful Mother on mild Thames does build,  
With her Son's Fabrics the rough Sea is filled.    

IMPRIMATUR,  
Roger L'Estrange. Nou. 2. 1664.   

London, Printed for Henry Herringman, at the Anchor in the Lower Walk of the New Exchange. 1665.