A POEM ON THE CORONATION OF JAMES the II. King OF Great-Britain, France and Ireland, &c. Who was Crowned at Wistminster-Abey the 23 th of April, 1685.
Julium Sidus micat inter omnes, velut inter ignes Luna Minores
Horat.
A Thron's Promotions
Pyramid, and
Kings
Are
God's Vicegerants, and the Healthful Springs
Whence Judgment both and Equity do flow,
To cause the Flowers of
Peace and
Plenty Grow,
Which bear, and yield the Fruits of sweet Content,
The
Root and
Nosegey of a Government.
For as the
Sun darts forth his Beams and Light,
To clear the World from Darkness of the Night;
A Gracious
King makes
Anarchy to Flye,
By Justice joyn'd with
Soveraignity.
'Tis Providence (that's nominated Fate)
Guides and Governs all things in
Church and
State.
Promotion and a Kingdoms Royal
Crown
Comes not by Chance; 'tis
God al
[...]
[...]rows down
The Proud; Exalting those (who for D
[...]nce)
Take his decree and sure
Omnipotence.
Now since the Triumph of this joyful Day
Hath turn'd the Wheels of an
Hyperbole;
And
Expectation hath conceiv'd in Vain
A
Gemini; and Labour without Pain
Hath brought forth
One, who is (without Contest)
Of Royal Blood, and Soveraign Kings the Best:
Great
JAMES, who with his Conquest of Renown,
And Sacred Head, hath honour'd
Englands Crown;
Let all his Subjects sound and eccho forth
A Loyal
Simphonia to his Worth.
The first rate
Soveraign that was sadly tost,
From Wind to Wave, and was given o'r for Lost,
'Twixt
Scilla and
Charibis, now hath past
The Shore of Shipwracks, and Arriv'd at last
At that safe Harbour, where (tho Billows Rore)
No Tempest can prevail against him More.
Call and conveen the
Hystories of Time,
With all the Poems have been Wrote in Rhyme,
And all the
Hyrogliphicks that have been
'Twixt
Trismegistas and late
Guiccardeen:
Then let the great
Chronologers point forth
A
Prince that was more Eminent in Worth;
For
Gratitude (the Glory of a
King,
The Life of Loyalty, and only thing
That Binds a Subject firmly to persist
In Truth, to live and Die a Loyallist)
Is his Predominant; he casts an Eye
On those who did prove True, when
Anarchy
Eclips'd the Royal Race; and doth repay
Their Deeds and Service, till this very Day.
And furthermore, (as 'tis by all Confest)
Our present
MARY is of
Queens the Best;
Tho
Malice Judge and
Envy's
Jury Sit
Upon her Size, no Blemish shee'll admit;
Her spotless Reputation doth Defie
The rigid
Critick of Hypocrecy.
Cast all the vertues to one Total worth,
Her
Sume of partes will point the
Product forth.
But why should I presume thus to rehearse
A
Them that's far beyond the reach of
Verse;
Her innate
Candor sendeth forth a Light,
Can show her Splendour, in the darkest Night.
Her Fame's enough her person to extole,
And send her praises to the
Artick-Pole.
And tho blind Mortals now should not her prize,
Yet after ages will her canonize.
Hence then State-grumbling
Criticks get ye gon,
With all your prancks of Combination.
In
Israel the
Scismaticks and
Sects
The very
Prince of Peace himself did vex;
So
Trimmers now, and
Counterfeits throw dirt
At
Church and
State; and make Religion Squirt.
Yet thou Great
JAMES Vicegerant unto God,
Whos Providence hath brought Thee safe, dry-shod,
Through that
Red-Sea which threatned to fall down
Upon thine
Highness, and o'rwhelm thy Crown,
Minde his great power; and keep before thine eye
His Glory; that thy Name may never dye;
But have (when thou art laid in Earths vast Womb)
The Good and Great Engraven on thy Tombe.
All flesh is grass; turn back, and look behind
The vail of by past ages; and thou'lt fiind
Time's glistering Gloryes are but shadowes vain;
And Man once Dead returneth not again:
Crowns are but Cobwebs, and the Life of Man
Compaired to Long
Eternity's a Span.
P. K.
LONDON, Printed by George Croom, at the Sign of the Blue Ball in Thames-street, over against Baynard's- Castle. 1685.