Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A53540
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Windsor castle, in a monument to our late-sovereign K. Charles II of ever blessed memory a poem / by Tho. Otway.
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Otway, Thomas, 1652-1685.
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1685
(1685)
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Wing O570; ESTC R21958
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9,798
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36
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grow blind disperse and reel away Let the dark Fiends the troubled Air forsake And all new peacefull Order seem to take But oh Imagine Fate t' have waited long An hour like this and mingled in the Throng Rous'd with those Furies from her seat below T' have watcht her onely time to give the blow When cruel Cares by faithless Subjects bred Too closely prest his Sacred Peacefull Head With them t' have pointed her destroying Dart And through the Brain found passage to the Heart Deep wounding Plagues Avenging Heav'n bestow On those Curst Heads to whom this loss we owe On all who Charles his Heart affliction gave And sent him to the sorrows of the Grave Now Painter if thy Griefs can let thee draw The saddest Scene that weeping Eyes e'er saw How on his Royal Bed that wofull day The much lamented Mighty Monarch lay Great in his fate and ev'n o'er that a King No terrour could the Lord of Terrours bring Through many steady and well manag'd years He'ad arm'd his Mind'gainst all those little fears Which common Mortals want the Pow'r to hide When their mean Souls and valu'd Clay divide Had studied well the worth of Life and knew Its troubles many and its blessings few Therefore unmov'd did Deaths approaches see And grew familiar with his Destiny Like an Acquaintance entertain'd his Fate Who as it knew him seem'd content to wait Not as his Gaoler but his friendly Guide While he for his great Journey did provide Oh couldst thou express the yearnings of his mind To his poor mourning People left behind But that I fear will e'en thy skill deceive None but a Soul like his such goodness could conceive For though a stubborn Race deserving ill Yet would he shew himself a Father still Therefore he chose for that peculiar care His Crowns his Vertues and his Mercies Heir Great Iames who to his Throne does now succeed And charg'd him tenderly his Flocks to feed To guide them too too apt to run astray And keep the Poxes and the Wolves away Here Painter if thou canst thy Art Improve And shew the wonders of Fraternal Love How mourning Iames by fading Charles did stand The Dying grasping the Surviving Hand How round each others Necks there Armes they cast Moan'd with endearing mur'mrings and embrac't And of their parting Pangs such marks did give 'T was hard to guess which yet could longest live Both their sad Tongues quite lost the pow'r to speak And their kind Hearts seem'd both prepar'd to break Here let thy curious Pencil next display How round his Bed a beauteous Off-spring lay With their Great Father's Blessing to be Crown'd Like young fierce Lions stretcht upon the ground And in Majestick silent Sorrow drown'd This done suppose the Ghastly minute nigh And Paint the Griefs of the sad Standers-by Th' unwearied Rev'rend Father's pious care Off'ring as oft as tears could stop a Prayer Of Kindred Nobles draw a sorrowing Train Whose looks may speak how much they shar'd his pain How from each Groan of his deriving smart Each fetcht another from a tortur'd Heart Mingled with these his faithfull Servants place With different Lines of Woe in ev'ry Face With down cast Heads swoln Breasts streaming Eyes And Sighs that mount in vain the unrelenting Skyes But yet there still remains a Task behind In which thy readiest Art may labour find At distance let the Mourning Queen appear But where sad News too soon may reach her Ear Describe her prostrate to the Throne above Pleading with Pray'r the tender cause of Love Shew Troops of Angels hov'ring from the Sky For They whene'er she call'd were always nigh Let them attend her Cries and hear her moan With looks of beauteous sadness like her own Because they know her Lord 's great Doom is scl'd And cannot though she ask it be repeal'd By this time think the work of Fate is done So any farther sad Description shun Shew him not Pale and Breathless on his Bed 'T would make all Gazers on thy Art fall Dead And thou thy self to such a scene of woe Add a new Piece and thy own statue grow Wipe therefore all thy Pencils and prepare To Draw a prospect now of clearer Air. Paint in an Eastern Sky new dawning Day And there the Embrio's of Time display The forms of many smiling years to come Just ripe for birth and lab'ring from their Womb Each strugling which shall Eldership obtain To be first Grac't with Mighty Iames his Reign Let the Dread Monarch on his Throne appear Place too the charming Partner of it there O'er his their wings let Fame and Triumph spread And soft-Ey'd Cupid's Hover o'er her Head In his Paint Smiling yet Majestick Grace But all the wealth of Beauty in her Face Then from the diff'rent Corners of the Earth Describe Applauding Nations coming forth Homage to pay or humble Peace to gain And own Auspicious Omens from his Reign Set at long distance his Contracted Foes Shrinking from what they dare not now oppose Draw shame or mean despair in all their Eyes And terrour lest th' Avenging Hand should rise But where his Smiles extend draw beauteous Peace The Poor Man's chearfull Toils the Rich Man's Ease Here Shepherds Piping to their feeding Sheep Or stretcht at length in their warm Hutts asleep There jolly Hinds spread through the sultry Fields Reaping such Harvests as their Tillage yields Or sheltr'd from the scorchings of the Sun Their Labours ended and repast begun Rang'd on Green Banks which they themselves did raise Singing their own Content and Rulers Praise Draw beauteous Meadows Gardens Groves and Bowers Where Contemplation best may pass her Hours Fill'd with Chast Lovers plighting Constant Hearts Rejoycing Muses and encourag'd Arts. Draw ev'ry thing like this that Thought can frame Best suiting with thy Theam Great Iames his Fame Known for the Man who from his Youthfull years By mighty Deeds has earn'd the Crown he wears Whose Conq'ring Arm far envied wonders wrought When an ungratefull Peoples Cause he Fought When for their Rights he his brave Sword employ'd Who in Return would have his Rights destroy'd But Heav'n such Injur'd merit did regard As Heav'n in time true Vertue will regard So to a Throne by Providence he rose And all who e'er were his were Providence's Foes FINIS * S. George's Church †S. George's Chapel * The Banners of the Knights of the Garter * An old Isle in the Church where the Banner of a dead Knight is carried when another succeeds him * The Keep * The now Duke of N. Constable of Windsor * The House * The Paintings done by †The Sieur Verrio his Majestie 's chief Painter * Where St. George's Feast is kept †Edw. III. * The Black Prince The Chapel at the end of the Hall