A PANEGYRICK ON HIS Sacred Majesties Royal Person, CHARLES the II d, By the Grace of God, KING OF England, Scotland, France, & Ireland, Defender of the Faith, &c. and Corronation.
Aut Caesar, aut nullus.
By Samuel Austin Jun. B. A. Com. W. C. Oxon.
LONDON, Printed for William Miller at the Acron in Saint Pauls Churchyard. 1661.
THE EPISTLE TO THE READER.
Reader,
I Have nothing here of my own to present you with, that can in the least merit an acceptance from you, but the Royall Subject of my Poem: A Subject no less then a King, and a King of that choice Eminence, and Virtue, that I feare (as the Painter being not able to quicken a Beam into its native livelinesse, doth soyle the Sunne in the attempt of Drawing its resemblance) least I should (not sensing this so great a Majesty) decline from, or lessen his glory. If so, in all submissivenesse I crave our Gracious Soveraigns pardon (not yours,) who in this onely may be taxed as Criminall, that His overheight, and beaming lustre hath occasioned my default. 'Tis not for every one to lay a colour [Page] on Majesty, and Majesty such as his is; (graced with the confluence of all perfections, that humane nature can aspire unto, or be capable of, is enough to impoverish Learning, and to reduce the very Eucrasie of mans wit unto a distresse in the description thereof. And therefore none can justly blame me, if I am not exact therein.
Reader, I shall not flatter you into the Reading of my broken Numbers, only tell you, that the Subject deserves your Worship, and choice respect, though I do not. And if there is any thing that may be accounted worthy of your Commendation, impute it to the sence of so full a Majesty, that hath overborn my Muse, and ravished my spirit unto that daring height, that I feare the issue may prove dangerous. However: I'll adventure. Be Candid, Read it out, and so farewell.
Samuel Austin Jun. B. A. Com. W. C.
Oxon.
A Panegyrick on his Sacred Majesties Royal Person,
(Charles the II
d by the Grace of God, King of
England, Scotland, France, and
Ireland, Defender of the Faith, &c.) and Corronation.
Pindarique Ode.
The Authors humble Addresse to his Majesty.
GReat Sir! may you be free
To read your self by me.
The Sun is alwaies seen most trim and fit,
By Glasses, which are useless without it.
You find the King, and Saint,
I the Pencil, and Paint.
You make the Sunne, and light,
But I the sense, and sight.
I give virtue the face, or ey,
You its temper, and gravity:
[Page 2]
I alone, the skin
You all within.
You Majesty include,
I its similitude.
You glory Antidate,
I only do it state.
Rise then my Muse made Royall, sing
Thy new Relation to a King:
A King to whom, thy all is due,
Who is both Great, and perfect too.
THey that divinests objects would descry,
Must void their eye sight, and through blindness try;
He that most Sacred things would find,
Must study ignorance to be blind:
Thus of a King to have a sight
Requires the blotting out of light.
Aelian gain-said those Authors that allow'd
Their clearest exposition in a Cloud;
But I them like; that truth alone bears spice
That doth exact Interpretation twice.
Thick darknesse there doth best expound,
Where the mystery is profound.
Had Scripture but one single glosse,
That might be questioned for drosse.
Was Truth at first clear to the eye,
All might suspect it for a lye.
They which will buy things of great price
Must offer moneys for them twice.
A King is deep, he that would sound
His Grace must more then once expound.
Truest Divinity runs high to mark
Its clearest revelation in the dark.
[Page 3] Faiths problem streams the soundest evidence,
And yet must not be cloy'd by humane sense.
Divines Preach plainest Truths, whilst he that hears
Is blind, and deaf, concealed eyes, and ears.
Of hallowed things they deem too light,
That place them in the vulgar sight.
He that with reverence would mark
A King must fold him up ith' dark.
The Prophets, which things highest did dispence
First spake the words, and then contriv'd their sence.
Thus must I do in Writing of my Theame,
First speak It out, then think what It doth mean.
Words utter'd without knowledge, date
Matters, that do hold most of state:
But when chain'd up to one known sence
They point out common excellence.
To Scan a King, that's perfect good
Is to speak words not understood.
Kings walk like Saints ith' notion of sence
As Angels skill the finest influence.
Mortals they are, congeal'd of spirit, and blood
But in the flesh may not be understood.
A King beyond sence safe doth ly:
The
Persian State holds Majesty.
Spirits trade not with Bodies, Angels sway
By inward thoughts, and never sence their way.
Thus Scepters do Intelligences find,
Master the body, while they rule the mind.
Princes distill their Influences such,
Which are not plain perceiv'd although they touch:
Their Power is hid by which they sway,
And
[...]or
[...] their Subjects to obey.
[Page 4] Rise
Charles! Your grace maintains that right
Of living far above our fight.
Majesti's by Your Scepter blown:
You have known all, and are not known.
A secret Virtue do you find,
To conquer both our heart and mind.
Your Scarlet was not dy'd at the first cast,
But after many a colour laid in wast,
The perfect ruling Dye sprang up at last.
You did not hastily Your Scepter catch,
But as those Kings, whom none could match,
And had great matters to dispatch.
By an
inter Regnum did You come,
To be establisht in the Throne;
And what was that but a shadow spun,
Or a waste night unto Your Sun?
Its Issues as void Colours spent,
To settle deep Your Government▪
Those things, whose Virtues are most seen,
Move by an intervall between
The two Poles crosier active Powers,
Make various season, time, and hours,
By whose Virtue about are whirl'd
The motions of the upper world;
Nought ever their Scepter withstood,
Yet they maintain no Neighbourhood:
The vastnesse of the space betwixt
Heightens their Power, and states it fixt.
The Sun It self, whose flames are hurl'd
Int' ev'ry corner of the world.
Each dayes past Scepter of Light
Receives an interpose by night.
[Page 5] And if it should all shadow shun,
'Twould be reputed common Sun.
The greatest glories are not seen
Without the help of mask, or skreen.
But the least shade doth blind the sight,
From a clear view of lesser Light.
Small Lamps are best beheld, when near
Packt up together in one Sphere;
While bigger Lights being throng'd too nigh
Do wrong themselves, and eke the eye.
Distance preserves the state of Kings,
And proves them to be special things.
Partition of time and space,
Doth only state the Royal Race.
Your Royal Father at first span'd
The peacefull Scepter in his hand;
Then did You step upon the Throne,
And now rule by Your self alone.
Your glories not together seen,
But by alittle age between:
And this 'tis that doth fully try
The greatnesse of Your Majesty.
Ev'n as from
Archimedes dust
Demonstrations came into Trust;
And as from
Hyacinthus Blood
Letters were made good.
Whose sanguine shower
Produc't a flower,
And as the wounds did flow
A kind of Alphabet did blow,
And Letters distinct grow;
[Page 6] Which did record the fame
Of
Ajax's living name:
How his untamed Spirit, and Power
At length did sink into a flower;
(Shrunk valour, if a flower must maintain
The credit of an
Ajax slain)
Which sav'd
Hyacinthus dying breath,
With the sighs made at his death.
Which in Characters fine, and trim
Shew'd that
Apollo loved him.
Thus from Your Fathers Blood, and Dust
Knowledge and Learning sprang up first.
Instance the Book made at His death,
Compiled by His later breath.
Oh! may the Name, of such a King as He,
With Great Ones 'mongst the gods recorded be?
May
Apollo be put in trust,
To beautifie his dust.
To make His blood
Immortal good.
To Write His Name not in a flower;
But in some Star, or higher Power:
For his pretious gore
Letters are multiply'd to more:
His very Death,
Hath giv'n to Learning birth and breath.
But you alone have perfect made,
And ransom'd
[...]tters from the shade.
By you they're fully ripe and good,
And may be understood.
You've given us sence and sight,
And unto Learning all its light.
[Page 7] The Heavens above not all or'e fair,
Dark in, and out as if there were
Betwixt earch Star, both earth and air.
But all Your Graces are true light,
In them no likelyhood of night.
Your Virtues are both fresh and green,
No common Hearb or Weed between.
Damne Antichrist by virtues Kings are meant,
Dissolve the Pope, and You the Innocent,
Under whose Rule I may more truly say,
That Launce and Nayles do keep a Holiday,
Religion rose, and did by you revive,
Who only keep'st our Liberty alive.
Amphyction compleat;
But far more great.
The old Arithmetician Zealots mount
The common age of th' World on Faiths account. 5199
Their sence is seen: cause in it coucht dothly,
The holy-Trin, in a safe Unity: 1236.
Make the World younger, give the Mystery light,
Take out those figures, so the Reckning's right. 3960
vel 63
(That Sacred Number, a confused lye,
Unlesse It be drawn up by Unity)
Kings make such Sums, he that would stake them bigger,
Than other men must multiply by figure,
And cast up mysteries above sense alost:
He that counts Princes plain, accounts them nought.
Crowns cypher'd are by Arithmetick
[...]n trust,
Mystical Number, things in secret nurst.
Thus doth our Sacred Prince most piercing try
Age, Number, in divinest Mystery.
[Page 8] By His Return the Antient face of Time
Looks young again, and our World's at its prime.
He 'bandond falshood, and hath Truth begot,
In faiths defence, preserv'd the holy knot.
To speak things seen, and known is for to misse
What the perfection of a True king is.
He only reacht my Theame, that did account
The holy Temple bigger then the Mount.
Thou dost excell thy self alone
And canst surpassed be by none.
Thy Virtues in their perfect sence
Can't dwell in that circumference.
More roome, more room, thy swelling grace
Exacts a larger breast and face:
I know It not, as soon I sound
Good
Enochs Prophecies near found.
And thus my own blindnesse I see
Remain great to Thy self, not me.
Gods to th' Enstalment now come down
Arise then, and receive the Crown.
Heavens lend it Jewels, and beset
It round with your starry Coronet.
Let all the Elements conspire,
Earth, Air, Water, and Fire,
As ravisht with a choice desire
To make
Charles his glory higher;
That he that would their purenesse find,
May know th
[...] to his Crown resign'd,
And only there confin'd.
[1]
Earth, Earth, unbowel all thy store,
Thy Silver and thy Golden ore,
[Page 9] Pearle, Diamonds, and thy shining Clay,
To make him a new fashion'd ray:
We all the bright require,
Keep Thou the dust and mire.
Let both the Indies Mines appear,
And settle in his Spheat.
[2]
Air be thou quiet, temperate, serene:
May no molesting breath once move between:
Forget all mists, unvcile thy clear,
May not one cobweb-cloud appear:
Turn, turn into thy antient mould,
Produce no over-heats or cold;
And with thy best Array,
Attend the Coronation Day.
[3]
Seas be ye smooth, let your disturbed brow
Unwrinckle now.
Confesse his Scepter may your wat'ry plains
Acknowledg by their rest, that our
Charles Reigns.
Let the Inmates, that in you swim
Be subject unto Him.
Your
Neptune is decay'd, and old,
Shrunk into another mould.
Behold his furrowed form,
Which hath buried many a storm.
Where tempests, and winds do fix,
And with each other mix.
Ev'n as a man, who by the Seas
Hath visited our Antipodees,
That returns from that nether world
With his forehead, trac't and curl'd.
[Page 10] As if the shipwrack had mistook,
And sunk into His look;
Leaving him all forlorn
With's countenance cleft and torn.
Let
Neptune as a fiction dy
With
Eolus his posterity.
Holding no memory,
Amongst the muses Fry.
Seas and Winds be no more found
By such old Liars to be bound;
Don't henceforth stand,
At their command.
Whose Godhead's only from the will,
And pleasure of the Poets Quill.
Storms from
Charles his forehead flee,
He shall your
Neptune and your
Eolus be.
[4]
Fire flame, and in bright streams arise,
Preserve your smokes for sacrifice;
Lay them up 'till the Heav'ns them need,
And the reconciling victims bleed;
Till offrings for attonement burn,
While the earth for its sins doth mourn;
These may then serve the gods to please,
And their angry powers to appease.
What will either choak, or blind
Leave quite behind;
Appear in all your Zeales, and Light
To make
Charles glorious in our sight:
That when the Work is done
He may turn Rival to the Sun.
[Page 11] Neither shall we neglect to do,
And contribute our small mite too.
Our duty and Allegiance due
(Great Sir I) to You.
By Your return Heav'ns meant,
The healing of our breach and rent.
Rebellion to the shades is fled,
The powers of darknesse to wed:
There let It e'r remain
Confin'd, whence it first came,
And where it once did reign.
By You confusion's finished.
You've put a stop to all Disputes,
'Fore whom the strifes of tongues turn mutes.
High time then to fall down,
And submit to Your Crown.
Shall we hate the true way,
Because we have long went astray?
Shall we Heavens food have in derision▪
Because we sense not its provision?
What shall our disposition still
Be hardy, stiffe, unpliable?
What shall not true affection
Work our subjection?
What shall not providences hand, or stroak
Make our necks limber to his yoak?
Yes sure (Great King) we bend, we bow,
Our stubborn necks turn tender now,
And submit to You, alone to You,
To whom we life, and all things ow.
[Page 12] We You receive with greater signs of love,
Than once the Earth did mighty
Jove.
View the Towers that arise
In Emulation with the skies,
Your Name for to eternalize;
As if they did You newly bring
From Heaven, whence You at first did spring.
As if when You've shone out Your day
You might return safe the same way.
They strive each other to excell;
Which no Age yet can parallel.
As if (while absent) You'd victorious been,
And now are in your triumphs seen.
With well tun'd voyce, and melody,
We wait Your passing by.
Joy is the only ditty
Throughout Your triumphall City.
In ev'ry street
Concording hearts do meet
And Loyal Subjects do You greet.
At ev'ry Arch they feed Your eye
With delights variety;
And strait they do dispense
Objects, that ravish ev'ry sense.
Your Souldiers ride before,
Not stain'd with wounds or gore.
They are arrai'd for sight, and not to fight▪
Their arms made for delight, not to affright.
Bloud displaies only in the paint,
Great
Mars this day looks thin, and faint:
[Page 13] His sinews trembling fall asunder,
Guns, Drums have quite forgot their Thunder.
Swords do with their Scabbards wed,
And war by it self is conquered.
All jars at His appearance cease
Confessing
Charles the King of Peace.
And that which doth the sight amend
See what Dignities Him attend.
All rankt in order with much state, and grace,
And none out of his proper place.
Observing distance, time, and leasure,
That we might in them view Earths treasure.
Or as if Heav'n this day to make a show,
Would bring up its lights from below:
And to breed our great delight
Would by these of them make a sight,
Each singly here
For to appear.
Some cloathed are with the golden Ore,
Others with the Silver Store.
As if both the Indies did pack
Their treasures on their back.
As if earth by 'ts own native ray
Would have tempted to make a day.
Some enrob'd in a cloath of Gold,
Another in a Silver mould.
As if
England instead of
Greece
Had possest the golden fleece.
As if each back had a design,
To paraphrase a silver Mine,
And to abreviate
Things of great state
[Page 14] Some garments duskish, as if reez'd,
Others with frost work, as 'twere freez'd.
Some arraid
With a declining shade;
As if an artificial smoak
Their brightness would attempt to choak.
Others again put into light
To dazzle the clearest sight.
All for to amount the glory
Of
Charles His Corronation story.
As if in this illustrious sight
Day was mixt even with the night,
Untill his Majesty
Doth draw nigh.
Thus by degrees more lights appear;
Ev'ry star doth shine more clear,
The nearer plac't unto His Sphear.
Each worthy made some shew of day
By an artificial ray.
Their Lacquies by their side:
Some more, some lesse
Their greatness to express.
To 'enstate their glory large, and wide.
Ev'n as many stars confine
Their beams to wait upon one sign.
All which reflect upon, and mind
The glory that doth stream behind.
At length
Charles comes with Light opprest,
Who gives a lustre to the rest;
Which are quickly lost, and done
Being but blinks to Him the Sun;
One who could ev'n form a day
Should Heaven it self deny its ray.
[Page 15] His very eye
Doth clear our Skye,
And in effect do more,
Than the Sun could do before.
By virtue of his Grace,
Sorrow hath no place,
And smiles are seen in ev'ry face.
His quick presence soon Passeth by,
That pleasant Vision,
Is lost, and gone,
But still perceive Majesty.
His Majesty which ne're doth flye:
But on earth holds Ubiquity,
Being here, and there,
And every where,
Where ever his Power is senst,
There's Majesty dispenst.
The Sun goes out of sight,
But we do'nt loose its Light:
'Tis seen in a plain stream,
By every lesser beam.
Thus in the Palace, whence
Charles rose,
At length He doth Himself repose:
Shining still upon us
With beams superfluous.
Ev'n as the Suns lightsome foyls, and scars
Are visible in the lesser stars.
Chang'd glories as with His beam refresht,
Attend Him to His rest.
Shades post apace, the morn invites
Unto more amorous delights.
They that yesterday were found
Upon their steeds, now walk on th' ground.
[Page 16] And as the stars do run,
All bare before the Sun.
To
Charles a Constellation.
Each Worthy bears his ray, and weight
But
Charles alone the Orb of Light,
Each holds his Coronet
But the Crown for
Charles is set.
Thus to the Chappel they go on
To attend the new beaming of their Sun
By the sacred Unction.
Where He with reverence stooping down
Receives the Scepter, Robe and Crown.
Ev'n as a Star untrim and rude
Fals under us to be renew'd.
He shone before, but as that Light
Before there was a day or night.
In an unready beam
Or wand'ring stream:
Not perfect made,
Or quite arrai'd:
Being (as 'twere) unprepar'd,
And not for vision squar'd.
But now His raies are all combin'd
Throughout calcin'd,
And unto Him alone confin'd:
Settl'd in one center, in's Orb fixt,
To shine more distinct and unmixt.
The fire by a new addresse of Oyl,
Blazes with a cleaner foyl.
Ev'n so
Charles looks more clear,
When the Unction on Him doth appear.
Oh! may He Heavens favour win,
And be annointed within.
[Page 17] Let Him obtain a lasting Spirit,
Of grace, and merit,
So shall His unction, and persume
(Like that of
Rhemes) never consume,
And by an unknown supply
Never fail or dye,
But still multiply,
Ever increase,
And never cease:
So shall his Crown sit fast,
And Scepter ever last.
After all Ceremonies done,
Charles turns back a furnisht Sun.
In Scarlet Robes He doth return,
As if his Garments all did burn.
His head weares no dull Earth, or Clay,
But a burnisht ray;
A Crown of Gold, and Mineral Lights commixt
Shone here, and there betwixt,
As if the Earth did resign
Its choicest Jewels there to shine,
Or as if Heav'n did pick,
And chuse out its stars there to stick.
Or as if both combin'd in one
To make
Charles equall with the Sun.
And so he doth appear
In this our Hemisphear.
He comes with Scepter in His hand
All at his Sole command.
Under a Canopy
Moving (as 'twere) insensibly:
Ev'n as the Sun, His motion's such
That seeming runs on th' Earth, but doth not touch:
And when it sets doth (as 'twere) fall on th' ground,
But never is there found.
[Page 18] I but a corner had to try,
And view His Majesty.
And this such glory doth befit
Stars are best seen through chinks, or in a pit.
Thus
Charles he states it to the Hall,
Where let each sense turn Festival.
May ev'ry dish promp acute delight,
Unto his appetite.
There let him sit and feed,
And think upon a Royal seed.
Great Sir! You are not one,
That's made great for Your self alone.
A King should still be seen
In a Relation to a Queen.
'Tis no offence, or trouble
For great ones to lye double▪
Nor for Astronomers, but for Kings to pry
Into the Wed lock sense of
Gemini.
Oh! may Your Sun full soon
Confesse a Moon.
And own a Queen,
Whose grace by Your beam may be seen.
That what you give to us by day of light,
May be alone to Her confin'd by night.
To Us Your Majesty, and Grace,
To Her Your special Love, and Face.
Thus you'le be a Sun generous,
While You enlighten Her and Us.
And may She Crowned be
With Noble Birth and chastitie.
And may Her living fame,
Be as well known, as is Her Name,
[Page 19] And Her Grace,
As glorious as Her Face,
And Her soul within,
As beauteous, as Her Flesh or Skin▪
May She be Vertuous and True,
And only fit for You,
Fruitfull in Soul, and Body too:
And bring forth to You, and Us
An offspring numerous.
One that may in Grace and Fame
Still bear up Your Royal Name.
Majesty turn'd grave too soon in You
Unlesse an Offspring doth ensue.
The Sun when that it sets
New Stars begets,
And fils them with its light
To shine by night
When it is out of sight.
The
Phoenix having its life resign'd,
Leaves alwayes one behind,
And doth his nest, and spices give,
That the young One may live.
That is a Spirit cold, and crude,
Which stamps not its similitude.
Your Light is scant, and poore,
If it doth not engender more.
Sit fast (Great Sir) study to sway,
While we do learn for to obey.
Sit fast, you're Heaven's powers attended,
And by a Champion defended.
'Tis publisht now that
Charles is Crown'd,
Heark, heark, how Ecchos do go round,
And Voices in the Air are drownd.
[Page 20] As if Earth to make this day a wonder
Had stoln from Heav'n Lighning and Thunder.
Behold the Canons rore,
Which were all mutes before.
Guns, Trumpets, Drums, into their proper speech do breake,
And in a Warlike language speake
And that Heav'ns concords may be found
In the like tones they do rebound.
All these for to confesse
Our joyes, which neither doth expresse.
Unruly in this one affection,
That our joy knows no subjection:
Your proper, and peculiar due,
And yet not to be rul'd by You.
Conduits the juice of th' Grape do vent
Instead of th' watry Element.
Founts change their source, and shew to Him
In what Liquor
Baechus was wont to swim.
As if Heav'n to
Charles such power did resigne,
To turn Water into Wine.
The night draws on, while the Heav'ns bemoane
His so long absence from the Throne.
They clouded are, but the friendly Earth,
Presents their wonted Jollity and Mirth,
In kindling Flames, and making them arise
To enlighten the neighbouring Skies.
And so (as 'twere) aspires
To new-star them by its fires.
To make them bright
By its new fangled light,
Or change their Theam,
By a Chimney beam.
[Page 21] As if it meant Heav'ns kindnesse to repay,
By 'ts innate rayes, to make them day:
Or as if in exchange for one night
They'd tak'n up shades, and thrown down Light,
Or prodigally hurl'd
Their flames upon this nether world;
While th' earth that favour to requite
Resign'd up all its proper right,
Made them look dark as night,
So that He that the Heav'ns doth view
Finds them turn'd sad of a earthly hue:
While that the Earth doth now appear
A starry, or enlightning Sphere,
Its fires shining here, and there.
None but our
Charles, 'tis none but He
Could make this strange Apostrophe.
Flames in the open Air do fly,
Like Lights erroneous in the Sky,
Which still do multiply,
As if the world would see, now on another score,
And be behold'n to Heav'n for light no more.
As if now
Charles his Reign's begun,
The Earth would need no other Sun.
Thus Heav'n and Earth together meet,
And His Scepter greet,
Casting themselves down at His feet:
Whilst His Soveraign Virtue doth
Move, and govern both:
Being the only Prince, that can
Rule the whole Globe of Earth, and Man▪
[Page 22]
Sic vos, non vobis sceptra tenete Jovis.
Sic vos, non vobis tesqua parate boves.
Nocte fucum radij lucis gradiendo striata
Sic testudo struit, sibi tecta, focosque reponens.
Sic Sol non tibi lux jubara fusa moves:
Sic vos non vobis stig mata fert is oves.
Ye for Your selves don't Scepters weild;
So patient Oxen Plow the Field.
Snails move by night a Silver trace,
Carrying their houses in the race.
Light to it self is still in dark.
Sheep for themselves do bear no mark▪
Then let your Scepter never faile,
You are the Sun, and I the Snail.
FINIS.