For 'tis a lesson dearly bought,

Assurance here is never to be sought.
The best, and best beloved of kings,
And best deserving to be so,

When scarce he had escaped the fatal blow
Of faction and conspiracy,

Death did his promised hopes destroy;
He toiled, he gained, but lived not to enjoy.
What mists of Providence are these
Through which we cannot see!

So saints, by supernatural power set free,
Are left at last in martyrdom to die ;
Such is the end of oft repeated miracles.-
Forgive me, heaven, that impious thought,
'Twas grief for Charles, to madness wrought,
That questioned thy supreme decree !
Thou didst his gracious reign prolong,
Even in thy saints and angels wrong,
His fellow-citizens of immortality:

For twelve long years of exile born,

Twice twelve we numbered since his blest return: So strictly wer't thou just to pay,

Even to the driblet of a day.

Yet still we murmur, and complain

The quails and manna should no longer rain:

Those miracles 'twas needless to renew ;

The chosen flock has now the promised land in view.

XV.

A warlike prince ascends the regal state,

A prince long exercised by fate:

Long may he keep, though he obtains it late!

Reckoning from the death of his father, Charles had reigned thirty-six years and eight days; and, counting from his restoration, twenty-four years, eight months, and nine days.

Heroes in heaven's peculiar mould are cast;

They, and their poets, are not formed in haste; Man was the first in God's design, and man was made the last.

False heroes, made by flattery so,

Heaven can strike out, like sparkles, at a blow;
But ere a prince is to perfection brought,
He costs Omnipotence a second thought.
With toil and sweat,

With hardening cold, and forming heat,
The Cyclops did their strokes repeat,
Before the impenetrable shield was wrought.
It looks as if the Maker would not own
The noble work for his,

Before 'twas tried and found a master-piece.

XVI.

View then a monarch ripened for a throne. Alcides thus his race began,

O'er infancy he swiftly ran;

The future God at first was more than man:
Dangers and toils, and Juno's hate,

Even o'er his cradle lay in wait,

And there he grappled first with fate;

In his young hands the hissing snakes he prest,

So early was the Deity confest;

Thus, by degrees, he rose to Jove's imperial seat;
Thus difficulties prove a soul legitimately great.
Like his, our hero's infancy was tried;

Betimes the furies did their snakes provide,
And to his infant arms oppose

His father's rebels, and his brother's foes;
The more opprest, the higher still he rose.
Those were the preludes of his fate,
That formed his manhood, to subdue

The hydra of the many-headed hissing crew.

XVII.

As after Numa's peaceful reign,

The martial Ancus* did the sceptre wield, Furbished the rusty sword again,

Resumed the long-forgotten shield, And led the Latins to the dusty field; So James the drowsy genius wakes Of Britain long entranced in charms, Restiff and slumbering on its arms; "Tis roused, and, with a new-strung nerve, the spear already shakes.

No neighing of the warrior steeds,
No drum, or louder trumpet, needs
To inspire the coward, warm the cold;

His voice, his sole appearance, makes them bold.
Gaul and Batavia dread the impending blow;
Too well the vigour of that arm they know;
They lick the dust, and crouch beneath their fatal
foe.

Long may they fear this awful prince,

And not provoke his lingering sword; Peace is their only sure defence,

Their best security his word.

In all the changes of his doubtful state,
His truth, like heaven's, was kept inviolate;
For him to promise is to make it fate.

His valour can triumph o'er land and main

With broken oaths his fame he will not stain;

With conquest basely bought, and with inglorious

gain.

* Ancus Martius, who succeeded the peaceful Numa Pompilius as king of Rome.

XVIII.

For once, O heaven, unfold thy adamantine book; And let his wondering senate see,

If not thy firm immutable decree,

At least the second page of strong contingency,
Such as consists with wills, originally free.

Let them with glad amazement look
On what their happiness may be ;

Let them not still be obstinately blind,
Still to divert the good thou hast designed,

Or, with malignant penury,

To starve the royal virtues of his mind.
Faith is a Christian's and a subject's test;

Oh give them to believe, and they are surely blest.
They do; and with a distant view I see
The amended vows of English loyalty;
And all beyond that object, there appears
The long retinue of a prosperous reign,
A series of successful years,

In orderly array, a martial, manly train.
Behold e'en the remoter shores,
A conquering navy proudly spread;
The British cannon formidably roars,
While, starting from his oozy bed,

The asserted Ocean rears his reverend head,
To view and recognize his ancient lord again;
And, with a willing hand, restores

The fasces of the main.

* Note VIII.

NOTES

ON

THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS.

Note I.

An unexpected burst of woes.-P. 62.

The

Charles II. enjoyed excellent health, and was particularly careful to preserve it by constant exercise. His dar.ger, therefore, fell like a thunderbolt on his people, whose hearts were gained by his easy manners and good humour, and who considered, that the worst apprehensions they had ever entertained during his reign, arose from the religion and disposition of his successor. mingled passions of affection and fear produced a wonderful sensation on the nation. The people were so passionately concerned, that North says, and appeals to all who recollected the time for the truth of his averment, that it was rare to see a person walking the street with dry eyes. Examen. p. 647.

Note II.

The second causes took the swift command,
The medicinal head, the ready hand,

All eager to perform their part.-P. 64.

If there is safety in the multitude of counsellors, Charles did not find it in the multitude of physicians. Nine were in attendance, all men of eminence; the presence of the least of whom, Le Sage would have said, was fully adequate to account for the subsequent catastrophe. They were Sir Thomas Millington, Sir Thomas Witherby, Sir Charles Scarborough, Sir Edmund King, Doctors Berwick, Charlton, Lower, Short, and Le Fevre. They signed a declaration, that the king had died of an apoplexy.