Selected quad for the lemma: england_n
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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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had birth Or by the Theban Founder they 'd been rais'd And in his pow'rfull Numbers should be prais'd Such Strength without does ev'ry where abound Within such Glory and such Splendour's found As man's united skill had there combin'd T' express what one great Genius had design'd Thus when the happy World Augustus sway'd Knowledge was cherish'd and Improvement made Learning and Arts his Empire did adorn Nor did there one neglected Vertue mourn But at his Call from farthest Nations came While the Immortal Muses gave him Fame Though when her far stretch'd Empire flourish'd most Rome never yet a Work like this could boast No Caesar e'er like Charles his Pomp exprâ—ss'd Nor ever were his Nations half so blest Though now alas in the sad Grave he lies Yet shall his Praise for ever live and Laurels from it rise Here as all Nature's Wealth to Court him prest Seem'd to attend him Plenty Peace and Rest. Through all the lofty Roofs describ'd we finde The Toils and Triumphs of his Godlike mind A Theam that might the Noblest Fancy warm And onely fit for his who did performe The Walls adorn'd with richest woven Gold Equal to what in Temples shin'd of old Grac'd well the Lustre of his Royal Ease Whose Empire reach'd throughout the wealthy Seas Ease which he wisely chose when raging Arms Kept neighb'ring Nations waking with Alar'ms For when Wars troubl'd her soft Fountains there She swell'd her Streams and flow'd in faster here With her came Plenty till our Isle seem'd blest As Canaan's Shore where Israel's Sons found rest Therefore when Cruel Spoilers who have hurl'd Waste and Confusion through the wretched World To after times leave a great hated Name The Praise of Peace shall wait on Charles's Fame His Countrey 's Father through whose tender Care Like a lull'd Babe she slept and knew no Fear Who when sh'offended oft would hide his Eyes Nor see because it griev'd him to chastize But if Submission brought her to his Feet With what true Joy the Penitent he 'd meet How would his Love still with his Justice strive How Parent-like how fondly he 'd forgive But now alas in the sad Grave he lies Yet shall his Praise for ever live and Laurels from it rise Since after all those Toils through which he strove By ev'ry Art of most endearing Love For his Reward he had his Britain found The Awe and Envy of the Nations round Muse then speak more what Wonders thou didst find Worthy thy Song and his Celestial Mind Tell now what Emulation may inspire And warm each British Heart with War-like Fire Call all thy Sisters of the Sacred Hill And by the Painter's Pencill guide my Quill Describe that lofty monumental Hall Where England's Triumphs grace the shining Wall When she led captive Kings from conquer'd Gaul Here when the Sons of Fame their Leader meet And at their Feasts in pompous order sit When the glad sparkling Bowle inspires the Board And high rais'd Thoughts great Tales of War afford Here as a Lesson may their Eyes behold What their victorious Fathers did of old When their proud Neighbours of the Gallick shore Trembled to hear the English Lion Roar Here may they see how good old Edward sate And did his Glorious Son's Arrival wait When from the Fields of vanquish'd France he came Follow'd by Spoils and usher'd in by Fame In Golden Chains he their Quell'd Monatch led Oh for such Laurels on another Head Unsoil'd with Sloth nor yet o'er cloy'd with Peace We had not then learn'd the loose Arts of Ease In our own Climes our vig'rous Youth were nurst And with no foreign Educations curst Their Northern Mettle was preserv'd with Care Not sent for soft'ning into hotter Air. Nor did they ' as now from fruitless Travels come With Follies Vices and Diseases home But in full Purity of Health and Mind Kept up the Noble Vertues of their Kind Had not false Senates to those Ills dispos'd Which long had England's Happiness oppos'd With stubborn Faction and rebellious Pride All Means to such a noble End deny'd To Britain Charles this Glory had restor'd And those revolted Nations own'd their Lord But now alas in the sad Grave he lies Yet shall his Praise for ever live and Laurels from it rise And now survey what 's open'd to our view Bow down all Heads and pay Devotion due The Temple by this Hero Built behold Adorn'd with Carvings and o'erlaid with Gold Whose radiant Roof such Glory does display We think we see the Heaven to which we Pray So well the Artist's hand has there delin'd The mercifull Redemption of Mankind The bright Ascension of the Son of God When back through yielding Skies to Heav'n he rode With Lightning round his Head and Tunder where he trod Thus when to Charles as Solomon was given Wisedom the greatest gift of Bounteous Heaven A house like his he built and Temple rais'd Where his Creatour might be fitly prais'd With Riches too and Honours was he Crown'd Nor whilst he liv'd was there one like him found Therefore what once to Israel's Lord was said When Sheba's Queen his glorious Court survey'd To Charles's Fame for ever shall remain Who did as wondrous things who did as greatly Reign `` Happy were they who could before him stand `` And saw the Wisedom of his dread Command For Heav'n resolv'd that much above the rest Of other Nations Britain should be Blest Found him when Banisht from his Sacred Right Try'd his Great Soul and in it took delight Then to his Throne in Triumph did him bring Where never Rul'd a Wiser Juster King But now alas in the sad Grave he lyes Yet shall his Praise for ever live and Laurels from it rise Thus far the Painter's Hand did guide the Muse Now let her lead nor will he sure refuse Two kindred Arts they are so near ally'd They oft have by each other been supply'd Therefore Great Man when next thy Thoughts encline To works of Fame let this be the Design As thou couldst best Great Charles his Glory show Shew how he fell and whence the fatal blow In a large Scene may give Beholders Awe The meeting of a num'rous Senate draw Over their Heads a black distemper'd sky And through the Air let grinning Furies fly Charg'd with Commissions of Infernal date To raise fell discord and intestine hate From their foul Heads let them by handfulls tear The ugliest Snakes and best lov'd Fav'rites there Then whirle them spouting venome as they fall 'Mongst the assembled numbers of the Hall There into murm'ring Bosoms let them go Till their Infection to Confusion grow Till such bold Tumults and Disorders rise ned Skyes As when the Impious Sons of Earth assail'd the threat But then let Mighty Charles at distance stand His Crown upon his Head and Sceptre in his Hand To send abroad his Word or with a Frown Repell and dash th' Aspiring Rebels down Unable to behold his dreaded Ray Let them