THE KING'S ENTERTAINMENT BY THE CITY of LONDON.  
Sol radiis orbem illuminat, REX VRBEM.  

MY Muse, whose Modesty still dis-allawed  
To show her bashful Face in public Crowd,  
But like a Vailled Vestal, since the Fire,  
Had laid aside her melancholy Lyre;  
This day of Jubilee Once more commands  
To take, and tune with her unskilful hands.  
Last night, fair Cynthia did to Thetis ride  
To bid the Nymph bring in an Early Tide,  
Whose swelling Surface might next Morning bear,  
And wait upon New- London's New Lord-Mayor;  
While the bright Barges on the River Glide,  
And the Glad Fishes Frisk on every side,  
Hearing the Cornet, Flute, Waites, Trumpets play,  
Dancing in spite of Net, or Line that Day,  
While the Flags flutter, and the Streamers fly,  
The glorious Badges of each Company:  
And each big Barge by in proud Pomp doth-Ride,  
Seeming to shoulder out the narrow Tide:  
And all the while, the bank-bred Nymphs fair eye,  
With stately Grace viewing this Show swim by;  
And having bid them Welcome back to Shore  
With usual Eccoh of the Cannon roar,  
From the fair Thames she turns her comely Face,  
Next to behold, with a yet greater Grace,  
The Reverend Train, while a long stately row  
Of Beauteous † Buildings, grace them as they go;  
Which leads them in a straight, and even Line,  
To the Great Hall, where this Great Train must Dine.   
New King's Street  

But stay; If it be true which I did hear,  
The MASTER of this Mistress will be there:  
Nor does he private come, or come alone,  
But like a Glorious Constellation  
Brings with him here, as brave and bright a Train,  
As ere was seen to wait on CHARLES his Wain.   

Will the KING Come! (Dear Prince!) Will Great CHARLES Come!  
Methinks the Cloise-joined Buildings Crowd for Room;  
And the Ambitious Streets, with graceful stride,  
Do seem to stretch to make themselves more wide;  
While all the way along, you'd think each head  
By people paved for common stones instead,   

Methinks I hear the Crowd inquisitous  
Which are the Pageants, taking every house  
That sumptuous high and s; tately seem to be  
For their expected gazed at Pageantry,  
With fair and beauteous Nymphs, richly bedecked,  
Who from Balconies, Windows, down reflect  
Their Beams of Beauty, while from Lady's Eyes,  
Cupid fling; Wildfire, fast as Serpent flies:  
Which wonder in a Lady's not so rare,  
As for to see a Lord-May'rs-Day prove Fair.  
Could Clouds more kind unto a Triumph be,  
Than to hold up at this Solemnity?  
Which makes the Forrest-Beasts abroad to creep,  
Who durst not else, but in their dark Dens sleep:  
And if you'd take the Poets apt Comment,  
That moving Wilderness did represent  
The Emblem of Poor London, when of late,  
A fatal Fire made her all Desolate:  
A Place for Satyrs only fit to Dance;  
(Which Heaven, beyond our Hopes, doth now Advance)  
Of late for Leopards, Tigers, Wolves, to dwell,  
And every Vault for lurking Thiefs, a Cell.  
Many there be, that do its Burning Rue;  
Thousands be bound to bless; s its Building New:  
To aftertimes, the Wonder will be one,  
Its Burning Down, and Building up so Soon.   

Rous; e Glorious Phoenix, shake thy dusty Wing,  
And then like Caesar's Eagle, meet thy KING:  
Thy KING, whose Grief, Joy, Care, and Love thou art,  
For as thou art his Kingdom's, thou'rt his Heart.  
When Thou didst Suffer, did thy Dear KING Mourn,  
More than did he that saw his own House Burn;  
Whose. Tears, Heaven in a Sacred Chalice Kept,  
Which Waiting Angels caught fast as he Wept:  
Which when Heaven found enough to slake his Ire,  
He Sprinkled on the Ashes of the Fire.   

As in thy Griefs, So in thy Joy, he Shares,  
And with his Royal Beams, his People Cheers,  
While the Glad, Grateful City back Express,  
Their raptured Sense of this High Happiness,  
By Feasting, Masking, Music, public Sights,  
That either palate, Ear, or Eye Delights.   

Ah PRINCE! Accept her Love, although Expressed  
Like a Surprised Lady, half Undressed,  
While she Poor Lady (do not think it Pride)  
Would her Red Cheeks behind the Tapestry Hide.  
This is her first Upsitting, from a Fall,  
Like to have Proved her Utter Funeral,  
Had not Your Sacred Succour helped to Rear  
Her to this Strength and Health wherein You See'r.  
And could She then, do less unto her KING,  
Than to Invite Him to her gossiping?    

The Conclusion to the Right Honourable the Lord Mayor.  

THis City, SIR, in your Time had that Honour,  
Long time laid by, again Conferred upon Her:  
This Lady City. (Europe's Chiefest Pride)  
Which to Achieve, you Her S. GEORGE did Ride;  
That after Ages, when they find that Name  
'Mong the Restorers of Lost London's Flame,  
St. George, his Dragon, and his Bloody Cross,  
Men shall disown, and say, That You it was,  
That were the Champion; and unto your Glory,  
You have TWO Dragons to Support the Story,   
S. Wiseman.   

With Allowance.   

LONDON, Printed for Rowland Reynolds, at the Sun and Bible in the Poultry, 1671.