phoenix Britannicus: OR, London Re-built. IN A panegyric POEM On that Ancient METROPOLIS, NOW Englands Glory, And the Worlds Wonder. By J. Phillips. Ex Cinere Floresco. March 20. licenced Roger L'estrange. LONDON, Printed by T. J. for S. Speed. 1672. TO THE RIGHT wonderful Sir Robert Viner, Knight and Baronet, And Alderman of the City of London. SIR, THough Dedications, those especially that usher Poetry into the World, are commonly reputed the Authors low design of Profit: Yet I hope this may claim an Exception from the General Rule, when I aver that it was never the intent or meaning of the Composure. However when that Famous Elegy made upon the Cities Death, thought it not a thing unseasonable to trouble the whole Body of the City then in Mourning, it may perhaps seem now the less impertinent, if this panegyric seek out for one single Patron to whom it may as freely communicate the General Joy now rising from the Cities Resurrection. A presumption that I hope may gain pardon, though from nothing more than the confidence it has in the choice of such an eminent Person, whose industrious Care in the designing, was equally deserving as your known expenses have been magnificent in finishing the famous subject of the following Poem: Which if it gain favour at your hands for the Subjects sake, is all the Author can expect who has no other intercessor but that( as he hopes) prevailing charm to obtain his own pardon, and your leave to subscribe himself, Your most humble Servant. J. Phillips. phoenix Britannicus: OR, LONDON RE-BUILT. TAke flight Immortal famed, and use thy skill To wake the drowsy World, thy Trumpet fill With the loud breath of all the Winds, that they May the great News to all the Earth convey: Such News as all the world ne're heard before; Which had the PREACHER known, he had known more. Had ye but seen fair LONDONS lofty towers, Almost as ancient, as the Deludg'd Hours, hide in a Cloud of Fire, that still prest on, By Heav'ns full Bellows to destruction blown, While the turmoiled Throng, as if the Flames Had chil'd their souls, stood all like men in dreams Till to prevent the Foes immediate Rack, They fall to work, and their own City sack; Had ye then thought on Troy, or Corinths Fall, This had out-history'd, and silenced all. Carthage in smoke, a spark; and Rome's great Heap Were Mole-hills, to the Ruins of our CHEAP. But here's a Wonder makes Amazement start, To see the Temple of the Nations Heart In three Days ruined, and in three Days reared, As if Divinity had now appeared, To act what once to scornful man it spoken. For what but Heav'n-born Zeal could then provoke That willingness, which did all Hearts inspire? As if what Fire had wasted, should by Fire Again be reared, and the proud Element So fierce of late, were now grown penitent. The King himself is Prophet too, and Priest, foretells it's Grandeur, and the labour blessed. He bid the kingdoms Body strait survey The General havoc, and for Help make way They soon contrive, and show with high Applause That they could Cities build, as well as Laws. And sure a rare Example t'was to see, Among those Architects of high degree, Contending Art and a Judicious strife To give the City Form, as well as Life; A Life established on the Throne of Right. They saw how the mad Fires enraged might, Where it had ploughed up Houses and Estates, Had sowed the Heaps with Seeds of new Debates; Debates, that like the Teeth of Jason's Men, No sooner nipped, but they would spring again. While Law-enriching Wrong in Ambush lay On doubtful Interests to make its prey. Leaving no ston unturned, that might advance Encroachment on the Poors Inheritance, While your weak Tenant fettered in a Lease, Is forced to Chancery, worse then the Disease; But this our Prudent Overseers foresaw, And therefore to the The Judges sitting at Cliffords Inn. Magi of the Law They grant full power, t'was needless more to say To those they knew could never go astray. It seemed a labour more than Hercules Could undertake, so many minds to please, But they that with an equal vigour stood To order private right, and public good, To charm Samballat with their Equity, That Justice and Convenience soon agree: Those Clamours cease, and all are forward bent Rather to lose, than hinder good intent. As when the Sun has warmed the lively Spring, The painful Bees, obedient to their King, Their Fragrant Cities labour to rebuild, Some fetch Materials from the distant Field While others ply their busy toil at home, Till part by part, the lovely Pile become One finished Wonder to the curious Eye; So now the People gaining fresh supply Of life and courage from their Soveraign's care, To raise the Structure of an Age prepare. For none but those that saw it, could have thought An Age could in an Age have so much wrought. The willing Woods their massy Timber sand, The Fields and Quarries their own Bowels lend T'advance the Work, as if the teeming Earth Had now conceived, to give the City Birth. And first observing Nature, they contrive To frame the Heart, where life is first alive, Gresham is now repaid; He bears the Name; Set up again to own a Nobler Frame. It was a Task too hard for mortal flamme To touch the ston devoted to his famed; As if Tithonus weary of the long age he had begged of the Gods, was turned into a grasshopper. Gresham's Arms. Tithonus had bequeathed the years He begged, unto his Golden grasshoppers. Nor let this Pile, surpassing his, seem strange, His was a Founded in Q. is time. Female, This a Male Exchange. Which first the King, the Kingdoms Soul, begun, And finished, having onely laid one ston. Next him the Duke another Column rears, Himself the Pillar of his Brother's Cares; Nor would the Valiant Prince his labour spare, Follow' by Albemarle, a Third-Rate Star; He would not fail to lay one ston, that had The Nations Corner-stone to us conveyed: A Structure sure that never can grow old, When four such Atlasse's your weight uphold. Here Honoured Turner to himself did raise A lasting Record worthy of his Praise; His aweful presence would be always by His handiwork advancing with his eye, until he saw completed in his Year, The public trophy of his public Care. View the majestic Front, The Royal Exchange. where fixed stand The Guardian Angels of our Sea and Land, A doric Miracle, till mounting farther, Ye spy a Wonder of Corinthian Order, Whose lovely Cornish the fair burden bears Where plays within the music of the spheres, As if those Tunes had been the Builders Boon, To recreate the busy hours of Noon: Above, Time with a Twofold Janus Face Orelooks the City in her Nuptial Grace, Reaching his Fore-top, unto all hands kind, Or else as if he now had Locks behind. Sec the Ascending Steps, that proudly born By their own weight, all underpropment scorn; Stones in a League with such contrivance laid, As only for the Throne of Friendship made. Behold the walks, where traffic, the Worlds Friend, Searches all nooks, that unto Riches tend; Where every language speaks, and Nations range, The World epitomized in an Exchange, While from the Vaults below the distant East, piled up in ponderous heaps, by heaps oppressed, sand forth their spicy odours to repay The fraught, with Incense offered every day. From hence let strangers go, and drew that Place Where Justice seated in majestic Grace, Does right to all her Freemen distribute, Guild-hall. Without the trouble of expensive svit; Where the Grave Council of the City sit In splendid Pomp for such a Senate fit, Where they that Built, now study to preserve, Commanding Laws which they themselves observe There stands the Lofty Guild, both Hall and Court A Spacious Pile, without the vain support Of Pillars, only filling room uprear'd, Where Order sway'd by Order well prepared, Makes foreign eyes behold with silent awe Their Kingly Banquets, and their trains of Law: A Hall, that in one day more Plenty wastes, Than Spains Dominion in a improve month tastes. And lest the way to Justice should be blind, A King-street. Kingly Street, and by a King designed, shows a wide passage to the judgement-seat, adorned with Ample Structures, till it meet The Wealthy Thamesis, who every year There waits, upon his Silver Back to bear The Cities Pomp, confined to wait upon The Guardian of their large Dominion. Old Ludgate. lord put on his Ashie Weeds and mourned To see his ancient Gate to Ashes turned: But soon he found his sorrow well repaid, Finding himself more gaily since arrayed. And now resolves to watch his Gate alone, Since his own Watchmen were so sleepy grown. Fair Temple-Bar. Temple-Bar, looks up with so much State, More like an Arch of Triumph, than a Gate. A stately Portal that lets none pass by, Till it has parley'd with the Gazers eye; Whence Admiration first begins to ride Through all the Splendour of the Cities Pride. Astraea pleased to see her Followers care To give her ruined Harbour new repair, The Inner Temple makes her choicest Court, More graced by honoured Bridgemans wide support. Near which appears the Pleasure of the Age, Nobler than Pompeys or Verona's Stage, Where can ye go amiss, but still ye find New Banquets for the greedy eye designed? In a more Royal State, not far from hence Bridewell admires her new Magnificence, Proudly forgets that she is still the Poors, And only listens after Emperours; Thinking the former Tract renewed again, Some other Charles the Fifth to entertain. The Hospital. Young Edwards Other Gift for pious Use Dofts his old skin, and gorgeous Youth renews, As if could Charity by Fire revived, Only in flames, like Salamanders lived; Or else that men believed those swift Repairs So soon were hastened by the Orphans prayers. In the same place where formerly it stood, The Commons Doctors Commons. make their Ancient station good: Where Strangers, now, as well the Structure draws, As the advantage of their Native Laws. The The public Halls. public Halls appear in every part, Built to encourage every useful Art; Where Lacedemon-like the City meet, And keep their public Feasts in every street; Where every Art becomes a Mystery, Sworn not to let rewards of Labour die. Sweet Little Oxford, whose voluptuous site Did all the Nation in distress invite; And lodging the vast Trains of Law and Court, Made Europe ring with general Report; Confesses now her glory overcome, By her Metropolis, that here makes room To feast the World with such Magnificence, Where Benefactors are at no expense. One stands among the crowd, which he that sees, Beholds the truth of Blackwel●… hall. Jason's Golden Fleece, The Kingdoms Loadstone, whose Magnetick Force, Attracts the Treasure of the Universe; Where they that see the heaps of Lemster Ore With all the vaster Spoils, and precious Store Of smother Plains, and far-extending Downs, clothing the Peasant, and enrobing Crowns: Finding the world deceived, more truly hold Pan, and not Pluto, for the God of Gold. Nor can the toiling Workmans ruder hurry, Deafen the Ear to Learnings Oratory, Learning is still advanced, the prop of all, By those Gamaliels, to the learned St. Paul, The Guild of Mercers, who with eager hast, Lest pitied youth their precious time should waste, While their own Interests neglected stand, Build up their Old Gymnasium out of hand. finished with so much beauty that it seems A Subject only for their Scholars themes. Nor needs Devotion soft Petitions make, While every Parish strives to undertake Their several Temples swift Repair, before Exhorting whispers could their Aid implore. Saint Dunstan happy first, who first did feel The Comfort of a Noble Matrons zeal, That left a powerful Charm to chase away Those Gospel-Devils that in Ruins lay, Unwilling they should now those Tombs molest, Where She her self was gone to take her rest. No less Saint Mary Woolnoth The New Church in Lumbard-Street, owes to Thee Renowned VINER, Rich in Piety: That lives in happy ignorance, which is more, Thy Wealth on Earth, or thy Celestial Store: Two Stately Quires, where while the Organ plays, The vocal foretells repeat the Founders Praise. If one fair Temple did so busy famed, With the continual sound of Sions Name, Where can she find but from an Angels blast, Assistance loud and long enough to last The toilsome Praise of our seraphic Glory, Where every Temple is a Sions Story? So many, that she spares from her large store To several that in foreign Tongues adore, A Holy Babel mustered from abroad, Where Languages confused, now worship God. But for Thee, Pauls, thy greatness brings Thee low, shane on ill Neighbours, and a Restless Foe, That keeps thy sovereign from his quiet Peace, And still his pious thoughts for Thee suppress, Else would he die for Thee, and raise thy Frame As high as is his own immortal famed; Yet still like some Commander slain, we see Thy greatness living in the want of Thee; For Thou art only wanting, only Thou To make all Cities to our City bow. Nor need we wonder whence this Grandeur flows, While Thamesis so near his lustre shows, Who proud of his employment, every day Sends his smooth Torrent posting to the Sea, That still returns as often to unlade The massy burdens of enriching Trade; Where now a Noble Key with open room, Welcomes the Seaman, and the Vessel home, And finding the faint stream sink from its weight, On her own shoulders takes the ponderous fraught, A Sumptuous Key, but yet more Sumptuous made By that Fair Pile, where Caesars Tribute paid, Supports the Strength that keeps his kingdom safe, That tames the lion, breaks the Ragged staff. Makes the submissive Crescent beg for Truce, And from her Maintop crops the flower deluce. The Tower which Noble Robinson makes good, Removes the wooden heaps that late withstood Her gay delight to view the new Repair, And while her Standard wantons in the air, encouraged by the Prospects influence, To outward succour and her own defence, Calls Caesar now to got his pains rewarded, That built the Strength that such a City guarded. Rise drowsy STOW, and once more overlook With thy old diligence, thy ancient Book; Take to thyself Cornelius Hollands Quill, And like to him thy Numerous pages fill; For though thy Task were hard before, it now Requires the treble labour of thy Brow, To speak of Lanes like Streets, and Streets like Towns, Where Houses wear their Terrases like Crowns, Where Embassies may ride and feed their eyes With a long Scale of new Varieties, Where each Balcony'd Front, well red, appears A Story worthy of their Princes ears; To tell of Palaces, where now we find A race of Cities to the City joined. To tell of Markets, now like Piazza's made, Far from the Street to ampler space conveyed, So well contrived both for Supply and Place, That former trouble now becomes a grace, But when you name the Place, to tell the store That walk by walk, the single monarchs devour, Is such an unexhausted Miracle, That all the World could never parallel. To tell how Little Fleet was cleansed once more, To bring advantage to the Neighbouring shore, As if the City now her force did bend To make the scorned Stream her bosom friend, Who makes the public nuisance, public Good, Owing for beauty and plenty to the Flood. To tell how soon, as men had men been born, The City saw her Ancient Trade return, And then to tell of Hills that level made, Give easy passage to the course of Trade: To tell how every public house assumes The State of Palaces in lofty Rooms, As if, by hidden signs they did presage The War-like Triumphs of the present age. To tell the prodigies of Fine and Rent, Which Trade returns, as if not paid, but lent, While Coffee, Prophet-like, despised at home, Grows Rich abroad, and for a single Room, More like some great Seraglio, dares advance A Sum to set a marquis up in France. Which strait flows back in Tides of single pence, These things become thy new Intelligence, And then eternal Monuments to raise Worthy the Builders and Contrivers Praise, Worthy the pains of those whose honoured care Did private Time to public Duty spare. Such Records would thy new Edition swell Until it grew to Manly Miracle, Whose every page. would be a wondrous Story, Relating wonders of a Wonder's Glory. Thus Cities, like to men, their periods have, From Youth to Age, from Age unto the Grave, Making their mortal progress, till at last The Common Bane of Countries layes'em waste: So London seemed to fall, whose drooping Age Could not resist the Burning fevers rage: But now, as if the Fiery Hurricane For Death himself had laid a subtle train; Death in the Cities fate now finds his own, And butted lies in Resurrection. So former Favourites of the Deities Were strait revived in Metamorphosis. Narcissus in a Flower his Life outlived, And Daphne in a laurel Death deceived. Thus rose the City from her Funeral Pile, The New born phoenix of an Ancient Isle; Or else like Enochs Change, that Death defeated, From one unto another life translated. If from the Cinders of one City, then Such charming beauty can grow up again, As she had only doff't her old Attire, To rise more splendid from the Bed of Fire: If the quaint Flames are now such Artists grown, To burn a City into such Renown; As if they'd courted ruin with intent To make Her glorious in her Monument, While Fire is but the Chariot that convays To a New Life the soon-repair'd Decays. What Pomp is then for th' other World designed, When it shall be by scorching flames refined? 'tis still but Fire, Gods Active Minister, That must that Work perform, and Seats prepare Of burnished Gold, and polished Jasper Stones, For the Bright Lamb, and all his Holy Ones. 'tis Fire that must the Sun itself benight, And give his Room to more Refulgent Light, 'tis That same Fire, that was the Cities Bane, To give it more Illustrious Life again, That must remove the Old Worlds Rubbish Frame, To set in place the New Jerusalem, Whose Glory is too bright for Mans display, And none so much as guess at, only they That in the Mirror of Proportion see LONDON RE-BUILT, the WORLD'S EPITOME. FINIS. ERRATA. page.. 3. line 19. for To red So. p. 8. l. 7. for Tract red hast.