A CONGRATULATORY POEM ON THE ARRIVAL Of His Sacred MAJESTY, AT The CITY of CHESTER.  
August the 27th. 1687.  

hast hast! let the free sound of winged famed  
Proclaim our joys, and our old sorrows tame;  
We have no room for sadness: all our bliss,  
Centers in present welcome Happiness.  
The Dolphins peep above our sandy bar,  
Mermaids cut Capers in the serene Air:  
Bells ring alone, the silver Trumpet sound,  
Swans sing, and Moles appear above the Ground.  
Here Royal James news his imperial Eye,  
As full of Love, as awful Majesty.  
echoes of praise with fragrant Murmurs ring  
Around our City to our Glorious King;  
A King, whose Gracious deeds have ever shown,  
There is no Royal virtue like his own.  
Even they, who are not willing to obey,  
blushy, unto him Observance not to pay:  
Decrepid Age his Crutches throws aside,  
Matron's look spruce as a new Married Bride.  
boys gallop, all our Girls with nimble feet,  
And speaking Eyes, contend their Prince to meet.  
Even they, who on our Altars Live, compose  
Te Deum's new, and seem well pleased as those:  
Dull sighs are banished, fears dispersed, and wit,  
Stands all a Tipto for this Triumph fit.  
Our Conduits run fresh wine, and by their store,  
So Fillip nature, we can weep no more:  
Tis Criminal to Greet: now Heaven has Lent  
Of Happiness the solid compliment.  
From our indulgent Caesar, who well skills  
With Mercy to convince, and please the wills,  
Of all who know the benefit of Rest:  
nothing can better be then what is best.  
And to comform our Easiness the more,  
Loyal and brave Tyrconnel is come over,  
Dear to his Prince, and naturally fit,  
For Royal Trust; this was a Lucky hit:  
With him the Irish Nobles hopeful are,  
Their King may Dublin see and Molingarr.  
Lets drink now freed from persecuting pain,  
And wish his Royal heart Auspicious Reign:  
And long, who( of all Kings) appears to be  
The instrument of Sacred Liberty,  
And him, who is not pleased with present Grace,  
We cannot Judge to be of Loyal Race.  
Chester shall build a Monument of Brass,  
Which may Endure till Sun and Moon shall pass  
Away, and Glorious James his soul shall be,  
Above the tenth sphere with Eternity:  
And future Ages gradually shall know,  
From what spring, Brittains happiness did flow:  
Mean time, this gratulation may dispense,  
Our Sacrifice for Loyalty and sense.