SUSPIRIA, or SIGHS On the DEATH of the Late Most Illustrious MONARCH CHARLES the II. KING OF Great Britain, France and Ireland etc. who Changed his Earthly for a Heavenly Crown, on Friday the 6th. of February 1684. in the 36th year of his Reign, and 55th of his Age.  

Can Great, Illustrious Britain's Monarch, Dye,  
Without Sacrifice of Tears! what Eye,  
Forbears to Drill whole Hecatombs! when we  
Have lost the Atlas of our Monarchy!  
Ah! sharpest Grief put out thy Keenest Stings,  
Bemoan the best of Men, the best of Kings.  
Can an Enraged Distracted Museforbear,  
To Rail at Death, that must so rudely tear  
Our [Pater Patriae] Country's Father, hence!  
Unruly Grief, Rail not at Providence.  
How dar'st thou Murmur at they Kings Remove?  
The King of Kings, would have him mountabove  
An Earthly Crown, to a more Glorious one.  
Bright Rays of Majesty, about him Shone.  
When here! -- he now in greater Glory Dwells;  
A Glory that allows no Parallels!  
Then spiteful Grief be still, and Envy not  
Thy Prince, the great Advancement he has got.  
Ah! Words where are ye! Ah! what must I borrow  
Language from Tears to Represently my Sorrow!  
Drop than ye friendly Streams, till like a Flood,  
[More Elegant than Words] be Understood,  
Our Universal Grief, to Mourn thus, you,  
Better than Groans, to Elegles, can do.  
Dull stupid Pen, away! give place to Sighs,  
The Fittest Mourners for such Obequys.  
Perfume not then to draw his Character,  
His Royal Name is Blazon'dev'ry where,  
The Sun in its Orbicular surround  
Scarce sees a Place, but where his Fame does found.  
Ah! but I will! And tell the World that he  
Was Great, and Good, and full of Clemency.  
A Prince of much Majesty, that none  
Could with more splendid virtues grace a Throne  
That lent (not borrowed) Lustre to his Crown.  
Away, away; thou Blunt Poetic Art;  
On meaner Subjects, Act thy little Part.  
No Rhapsodies of Verse, no Prose can Rise  
To Accents fit for such great Obsequies:  
Oh! Great but Dismal Subject! could my Quill  
Instead of Ink; with other Drops Distil,  
I'd Represent to every Readers view,  
Lines (not of Sable, but) of Crimson hue.  
There's nothing of Idolarry in the,  
Right Application of Apostrophe!  
Then Great, (now then before more Glorious Prince)  
Since our Supremest King, has called thee hence,  
May heavens overruling, Bright, Illustrious Rays,  
Give thy surviving Subjects Hakyon Days,  
May this August Celebrious Kingdom see,  
No Inter-Regnum of that Clemency,  
Which saved three Kingdom from a Fatal Yoke,  
The Dire Results of an Intended Stroke!  
Dismis thy fear, His Royal Brother; who  
Succeeds him in his Throne, and Virtues too,  
Has so Majestic, so subline a Soul,  
That what he promised, none shall dare Control.  
Away Suspicion! here's the Royal Word;  
What great surety can Mankind afford?  
That Publick-Sacred-Obligation binds  
The Royal Breast to leave things as he finds,  
The Constitution of our Laws to be,  
Just to the Subjects: just to Monarchy.    

LONDON, printed for L. C. near Fleet-bridge. 1680.