Classic Poem

Whom doth this stately navy bring?
O! 'tis great Britaine's glorious King;
Convey him then, you winds and seas,
Swift as desire, and calme as peace
In your respect let him survey
What all his other subjects pay,
And prophecie to them againe
The splendid smoothnesse of his reigne.
Charles and his mighty hopes you beare:
A greater now then Caesar's heare;
Whose veines a richer purple boast
Then ever Hero's yet ingrosst;
Sprung from a father so august,
He triumphs in his very dust
In him two miracles we view,
His Vertue and his safetie too.
For when compell'd by traitors crimes
To breath and bow in foreigne climes,
Expos'd to all the rigid fate
That doth on wither'd greatnesse waite,
Had plots for life and conscience laid,
By foes pursu'd, by friends betraid;
Then heaven, his secret potent friend,
And, what's more yet, kept him upright
Midst flattering hope and bloudy fright
Cromwell his whole right never gain'd,
Defender of the faith remain'd,
For which his predecessours fought
And wrote, but none so dearly bought.
Never was prince so much besieged,
At home provok'd, abroad oblig'd:
Nor ever man resisted thus,
No, not great Athanasius.
No helpe of friends could, or foes spight,
To fierce invasion him invite
Revenge to him no pleasure is,
He spar'd their bloud who gap'd for his;
Blush'd any hands the English crowne
Should fasten on him, but their owne
As peace and freedome with him went,
With him they come from banishment.
That he might his dominions win,
He with himselfe did first begin:
And, that first victory obtain'd,
His Kingdomes quickly he regain'd.
The illustrious sufferings of this Prince
Did all reduce, and all convince.
He onely liv'd with such successe,
That the whole world would fight with lesse
Assistant Kings could but subdue
Those foes which he can pardon too
He thinkes no slaughter trophyes good,
Nor lawrells dipt in subjects blood;
But with a sweet resistlesse Art
Disarmes the hand, and wins the heart;
And like a God doth rescue those
Who did themselves and him oppose.
Go, wondrous prince, adorne that throne
Which birth and merit make your owne,
And in your mercy brighter shine
Then in the gloryes of your line:
Find love at home, and abroade feare,
And Veneration every where
Th united world will you allow
Their Cheife, to whom the English bow,
And monarchs shall to yours resort,
As Sheba's Queen to Judah's court,
Returning thence constrained more
To wonder, envy, and adore
Discover'd Rome will hate your crowne,
But she shall tremble at your frowne:
For England shall (rul'd and restor'd by you)
The suppliant world protect, or else subdue.