ANGLIA REDIVIVA. OR The Miraculous Return of THE BREATH OF OUR NOSTRILS. A POEM.  
By EDMUND ELIS, Master of Arts.   two royal badges, one a rose with crown and the other a thistle with crown 
Printed in the Year, 1660.   

TO THE MOST HIGH AND MIGHTY PRINCE CHARLES TWO: KING OF GREAT BRITAIN, FRANCE, and IRELAND: The Author, His Majesty's most Loyal Subject, Humbly Dedicates this following POEM.   

ANGLIA REDIVIVA.  

NO Voice, more soft than Thunder, can express  
Our present joy, or our past Heaviness:  
None can the Largeness of This joy set out,  
Unless at once He make THREE KINGDOMS Shout:  
Which is the Greater, sigh through Grief it Came:  
As Water Vanquished still Augments the Flame.  
In Mirth, and Laughter now, and Pleasant Tones,  
We Spend that Breath, which we Fetched up for Groans.  
Oh, how we Drooped, and Hung our Heads to see  
Rebellion Prosper? How we grieved to be  
judgd for the Wicked by Perfidious Knaves;  
By No Man Ruled, but Kept in Awe by Slaves.  
Oh, how we grieved to see that viprous Brood,  
By whose Black, Hellish Sire, the Royal Blood  
Of Blessed CHARLES was shed, to bear the sway?  
And (which was worse) to see that none but They  
Or Their small Myrmydons should be the Men  
Esteemed for Godly? ' as if the DEVIL, again  
Had on those , which once in HEAVEN he Wore.  
He learns to Bleat, who still was wont to Roar.  
But now those Varlets are, as they should be,  
Sunk in the Depth of Scorn and Infamy;  
Thrown down even by Those Hands, which did them Raise:  
Reviled by Those, who gave them greatest Praise.  
See, Rebels, See the HAND OF GOD. Where now  
Are all those Laurels, which once Crowned the Brow  
Of that Victorious-CROMWEL? They were all  
Turned into Ashes at his Funeral,  
And Covered in His Urn. But first, those Bays  
GOD Used for Rods to Whip His Sons: His Praise  
Surviveed Him but for This: That His Great Name  
Might Raise Them up, that They might Fall with Shame.  
And those Wild Wretches, who Drew down These Elves,  
Pulled Them on their own Heads, and Fell Themselves;  
Still Tumbling on th' other: till their Fall  
Had made some way for that Brave GENERAL,  
The Clorious MONK, to Step up to that Height,  
Where being Fixed, He had no need to Fight:  
He Conquered by His Words: Three Nations came  
Straight to do Homage to His Mighty NAME.  
Thus having All in's Hands: He gave the Power  
To Him whose Right it was: made Himself Lower.  
He might be, which he would of these Two Things,  
The Best of Subjects, or The Worst of Kings:  
By Less'nings' Power thus He Gained more Renown,  
'Twas HEAVEN Gave CHARLES, but MONCK Put on His CROWN.  
Now that our KING's PROCLAIMED, what shall we say?  
Sure this Blessed Month will make our Years all MAY. 
The KING was Proclaimed in May— 60.   
What Pleasant Days shall we have now, when He  
Who hath not only Strength, but MAJESTY,  
And Lawful Power shall only bear the sway,  
And with his Looks Fright SAINT- like Fiends away?  
This was i'th' number of our late Complaints,  
That the worst Villains were esteemed Best SAINTS.  
But now our SUN is up, and all is Clear,  
And Knaves, and Rebels, as they Are, Appear.  
Now we may Teach each poor Deluded Thing,  
That 'tis not Treason to be for the KING.  
Where are those Mock-SAINTS now? Thus (as they say)  
The DEVIL Walks not, when he sees 'tis Day.  
O, that They, who did Boast their Cause to be  
Most Just, because 'twas Prosperous, would See  
What GOD has Wrought for Him, whom They'd Withstand.  
What Wonders GOD has Shown to bring this Land  
Into Subjection to their Lawful KING,  
(The Theme's too High for Me) let ANGELS Sing.  
Yea sure the Heavenly Host do all Proclaim  
The Praise of This Great Act, Due to the Name  
Of Him, by whom KING'S Reign. And O that I  
Can make my Soul, winged with Devotion Fly  
To GOD! And Think (what Words can't reach) His Praise!  
Who without Blood has Crowned our KING with Bayss,  
Brought from Three Conquered Nations: Which now He  
Holds in Subjection, but to keep them Free:  
Even from that Yoke of Bondage, which of late  
So Galled our Necks; whilst That, they called a State,  
Was nought but Madmen sitting at the Helm:  
'Twas a Great Bedlam, which is now a Realm.  
Worse then Egyptian Bondage This, to be  
The Subjects of the Popularity:  
And those so Giddyheaded too, that none  
Knew what to Do, or what to leave Undone.  
Each little Writer every week brings in  
His Form of Government: as if it had been  
Not harder to new Mould a Kingdom, then  
To get a Standish, and to make a Pen.  
Nay HEWSON, and the like Mechanics Prate  
Like the Supporters of a Ruinous State,  
As if they thought it were no more to do  
To Frame a State, then 'tis to make a Shoe.  
But those Mad Times are past, and now we are  
Even Rescued from the SWORD without a WAR.  
Without a WAR Great CHARLES His Kingdoms Wone:  
Thus strait, when GOD will Have't, the Thing is Done.  
And now, Blessed Prince, sigh by Your Sufferings You  
Have made the World to know what You can Do  
In Better Times; who Did so well in Ill:  
Still Conquering all those Passions, which do Still  
Invade th' Oppressed: No Fear, or Anger could  
Cast your Brave Soul in an  Mould,  
In all Your Wrongs, and Dangers; still your Mind  
Was to Religion, justice, GOD, Inclined.  
Nay when some Griefs, and Troubles needs must come  
To get, Great SIR, in Your large Breast some room,  
Your Mind stands Firm, & all rough thoughts Outbraves;  
Like Rocks Unmoved with the most Boisterous Waves.  
Since You by Suffering Thus, have made us know  
The True Height of Your Soul O, may we Bow,  
In a deep Sense of our Felicity,  
To Heaven first, next to Yourself, our Knee.  
Oh, may we Thankful be, and sing His Praise,  
Who for our Cypress now has given us Bayss:  
May we give GOD and CAESAR All their Due,  
And Him Obey still, in Obeying You.  
With Tears of Joy that You are now Come in,  
And Sorrow that your MAJESTY has been  
So long Time Absent, we would make a Flood  
To Wash this LAND, Stained with Your FATHER'S Blood.  
Who, both in Life and Death so Conquering Fate,  
Was ne'er Unhappy, though Unfortunate:  
What Glory gained He by His Sufferings?  
He Lived, and Died, even like the KING OF KINGS.  
O may You Guide us, as He would have done,  
Had we not Run into Rebellion.  
May You Live Those Great Things, He Written; and Be  
Yourself A New ΕΙΚΩΝ ΒΑΣΙΛΙΚΗ.  
To His Great Praise may You still Add Your Own,  
Till You Change This for an Eternal CROWN.   
FINIS.   

TO HIS EXCELLENCY THE LORD GENERAL MONCK.  
April 18. 1660.  

GO on, Wise SIR, and make Yourself The GREAT,  
By Conquering Those, whom You Disdain to Beat,  
What Wonder will Your Bloodless Triumphs gain!  
THREE KINGDOMS Conquered, and not One Man Slain!  
Your Valour thus, with Matchless Prudence, can  
Destroy the FOE, and yet not Hurt the Man:  
We Long to see the Time, when You'll Appear  
To Be, what Good Men Hope, what Others Fear  
That This Dark CHAOS of Affairs may be  
But a Resemblance of the Infancy  
Of the CREATION: which began in Night:  
Confusion Brought forth Order, Darkness Light.  
Trust not in Your own Strength: be sure to Do  
What Honour, Law and Conscience Binds You to:  
So You may Justly Hope, that HE, whose Hand  
Has Set You Up; will give You Power to Stand.  
Stand, NOBLE SIR, that Our Bowed Necks may be  
Raised by Your Hand to our Old 
*— Nunquam Libertas gratior extat Quam sub Rege Pio— Claud.  Liberty  
Then, ENGLAND'S Mourning turned to Joy, We'll Sing:  
CROMWELL Killed CHARLES! But MONCK Revived the KING.   
FINIS