Selected quad for the lemma: lord_n
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A11535
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King Iames his entertainment at Theobalds vvith his welcome to London, together with a salutatorie poeme. / By Iohn Sauile.
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Savile, John, poet.
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1603
(1603)
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STC 21784; ESTC S116793
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8,019
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24
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eies were neuer blest with his encounter Now he is amongst vs God long preserue him ouer vs whose presence makes old men sing Satis se vixisse se viso FINIS A Salutatorie Poeme to the Magestie of King IAMES HAile Mortall God Englands true Ioy great King All haile thy comming forceth my Muse to sing Too forward so vntutor'd in these laies Vnfit to blazon Kings befitting praise Yet nerethelesse I 'm forc'd perforce to write Some Furie doth my head my hand incite Antiquitie hath taught next that day That English harts first for your state did pray The Angell Gabriell from Iehoua sent Told to the creature what her maker ment How she a maiden wife should beare a sonne Mankindes sole Sauiour when wee were vndone This blessed eue of th'blest Annunciation Was first day of your Highnesse Proclamation What hopes what haps this Proclamation brings Is cause efficient why our Muses sings Haile full of Grace thus ginnes the salutation Striking the blessed with deepest admiration Halfe daunted first then straight no whit dismaid Mildly made answere Be 't as my Lord hath said Looke what surpassing solace Ioy without measure Possest her soule for this caelestiall treasure Entombing in her wombe our Sauiour deere Deign'd onely worthie mans sauing-health to beate The like and more if more or like could bee Possest our soules longing so long for thee She blest the author of her good the incarnate word Singing My Soule doth magnifie my Lord At tidings of your Proclamation wee In hands in hats in harts did all agree the world hath our applause heauens haue our hartie praying your selfe hands hats harts from you nere straying The fruit which came by th' Angels Aue t' all Is easely gathered by ould Adams fall The world the flesh the diuell each one our foe By Aue had their finall ouerthrow The fruit wee hope to reape by God saue th' King Which Englands counsell vnto the world did ring ' Pon that same dayes doubtlesse beyond compare Your selfe in Vertue Learning Valour rare Gabriell why star'st Angell why art thou slacke Tell mee eternal messenger what holds thee backe To take thy wings leaue Demi-deitie And bid God saue King Iames his Magestie Sith thou' rt create to tell thy makers minde And for no other end wert first assign'd Old Homes writes a silly dogge could say Welcome to 's master 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Persius hath told vs for great Caesars sake A speechlesse Parrate 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to 's welcome spake What shall our harts deuise or hands set downe Worthie thy great worthiest King renowne But thousand of welcomes millions of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 send Plaudities numberlesse shouts wanting end Should we not this doe thankelesse were we then But oft it 's seene Beasts are more kind then men Witnesse old Bardus Ape freed from the pit That held a Senatour and Snake within it Adrian promis'd Bardus halfe of all His goods to rid him from his hunting fall Poore man vntide his trusse let downe his rope To pull out Adrian first was all his hope The Ape espying it out of the prison burst Clipping the line in 's armes was haild vp first Bardus lets downe his cord the second time Entending Adrian up therby should clime When 't was come downe neere to th'imprisoning ground The Serpent close himselfe about it wound He was releas'd the next whom Bardus feing Ran all agast hoping t' escape by fleing Lastly the Senatour fast by it caught Released neere thanked him for the deed he had wrought Th' aforesaid two wanting words reason arte Did seuerall duties to him in their heart In thankfulnesse poore Ape did giue him wood A precious stone for his receaued good The Serpent gaue him thus we plainly see For good receaued thankfull dumb creatures bee Why doe I instant in vngratefull man Sith all are prest to doe say show the best they can To entertaine Englands vndoubted King Iames first of that name to his owne to bring Doe not our Parrats Persius aequall thine When one mongst many so truelie could deuine Could Augurize aright foresee foresay A full month since bidding King Iames good day Vnseene of most hearing his onely name Tel'st in the streetes reck'es not her teachers blame Naming him twentie tymes at least together Ceasing no longer than oyling of a feather Twixt each King Iames or King or good or day And oft poore foole she totally will pray Withouten ceasing vtter the whole throughout To th' admiration of the gazing rout I cannot deeme it now gulling toye Which Vennard inspir'd intituled Englands Ioye I rather gesse hee did our good diuine Not daring to disclos't before full time Be bold goe on nowe's thy praesaging plaine King Iames is Englands ioy long hop'd for gaine That it is hee who cannot easely proue Sith it is onely hee wee onely loue T is hee that Englands ioy did first awake After sad sorrowing for Elizaes sake Then reck no clownish trumps regard them naught Banish such Fooleries from thy purer thought Wee know the fruit sprung from foreknowing pen King Iames is Englands ioy say all Amen Tokens of Englands ioy who list to seeke that night might find them straw'd in London street Making the night a day Phoebe a Sunne This was the first signe when our Ioy begun Continu'd still t' Englands aeternall good In th'happie issue of your Royall blood Make hast to make vs happie worthie King Our Muse desires to write th'inthrâ—â—izing At famous Westminster in thy elders chaire Where Englands peeres will yeeld our Crowne to th' heir To th' heire legitimate your selfe dread Soueraigne Wishing your happie and victorious Raigne Besids a trine of Kingdomes are your owne Possesse them all possessing Englands Crowne Fraunce and froward Ireland with our English land Are feall subiects to your Regall hand Besides your sacred selfe doth bring with you A Kingdome neuer knit to these till now As Camdens Brittaine tells since Brutus daies Than let vs thank our God sing Roundelaies England reioyce Saint George for England shout For ioy Saint Denis crie all Fraunce throughout Double thy ioyes ô Albion harke Cambrian banks God hath enrich'd thee with a Prince giue hartie thaÌ„ks You that of long had Lords in judgement sit Deciding causes for your countrie sit Clap hands sing Io chaungd is your gouernment Our Kings dearest sonn 's your Prince your PresideÌ„t Saint Dauid ring for ioy set vp your leeke Your praier's heard you haue got you long did seeke Braue Henrie Fredericke that Imperiall name I gesse from his Natiuitie foretold the same Thrice happie in his threefold name are you Henrie bould Fredericke is a Steward true How well these titles with your names agree You almost all at least possessing three Welcome then hartely welcom braue Prince Henrie Sing Carrols for his sake keepe wakes bee merrie Irefull cold Ireland cease from thy rage at last To yeeld subjection to thy King make hast Sound out Saint Patricke Scotland Saint Andrew sing King Iames is Englands Scotlands Fraunce Irelands King What can I add to eeke our ioyes withall Sith Iames is King of all contain'd in all But hast deere King t'case our expecting minde Vnstaied while your Highnesse staies behinde Indeede nere truelie staied till wee you greete With 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in London street Nor then indeede till wee doe all resort To see your face shining in Englands Court And then ô but till then make hast your grace shall see Your stranger subiects faithfull loyaltie Now to returne where first I did beginne Mongst all estates Poets haue cause to sing King Iames his welcome for hee doth excell As his Lepantho and his Furies tell In Poesie all Kings in Christendome Then welcome him quick spirits blush to be dumbe And pardon him that boldlie makes this suite Forc'd by some Furie scornes to bee longer mute Reioyce your Patron is your countries King Iudge of all states haue not you cause to sing For shame then rouse your spirits awake for shame Giue Caesar's due acquit your selues from blame All wish his welcome mongst all sorts of men Saue onelie such as are past sixtie ten These wayward old ones grudge to leaue behind What our succeeding age is sure to finde The peace the plentie pleasure and such like gaine Which we are sure t' enioy in Iames his raigne Wishing would he had liu'd in their youths prime Or old-age would returne to ten and nyne Were they but nynteene who haue nyntie seene TheÌ„ would they wish to see king Iames and 's Queene And so indeed they doe the whitest heads That liu'd in Antique tyme and praid on beades These holiest fathers craue no longer lyfe Then once to see King Iames his Queene and wyfe With hands vprear'd giuing IEHOVAH praise That lenght their liues to see his happie daies That these his happie daies full grace may bring Let English hearts crie all God laue our King FINIS