A POEM upon Their MAJESTIES Speeches to the Nonconformist Ministers.
OUr Churches
Ark o're Troubled Waters rode,
Like that blest Ship whose burden was a
God;
In vain we judg'd the
Card or
Sailers Cares,
Our
Peters Faith, or our
Apostles Prayers:
But when our Mighty
Saviours came on board,
The Stormy Winds and Waves no longer roar'd;
At whose Approach the gloomy Shadows brake,
And of the Light all Humane kind partake:
No home-bred Jars or Pious Frenzy burns,
But wild Confusion into Order turns:
We bless our Ears and Eyes, and all Admire,
Queen
Mary's Voice tun'd by King
David's Lyre;
The Glorious
Pair in equal Sounds agree,
And Subjects Joys compleat the Harmony.
Let
Levi's Tribe to
Ergo's Bid adieu,
Or still their Metaphysick Toils persue,
Thro' Senseless
Labyrinths the People draw,
Confound the Gospel, and perplex the Law.
Our
Royal Pair a safer passage lead,
And in the paths of Truth and Love do tread.
Hail
Mighty Two! our common Votes approve;
You are the
God of War and
Queen of Love.
As the Sun's Beams replenisheth the Earth,
Purges the Flood, and gives to Seasons birth;
So your bright Ray diffus'd within our Sphere,
Gives Vital Warmth to every Creature there:
Our Heats you cool, and moderate their Force,
And of our Passions stop th' unruly course;
By great Examples, you our Love provoke,
And reconcile the
Cassock to the
Cloak:
Beneath your Shadow we in safety sit,
And all our former Toils and Scars forget.
By you the Tyrant Monsters are undone,
And all the Force of
Hell and
Rome o'rethrown;
Religious Freedom all our Saints enjoy,
No more shall frantick Zeal the
Church annoy,
Nor shall it dread a fatal Shipwrack more,
In Stormy
Adria or
Melita's shore;
When charm'd to Sense, the giddy
Priesthood yield,
And all destructive Errors quit the Field.
What tho' we did by
Sion's Waters mourn?
The Golden Age and Golden days return.
The Pristine Ages now we imitate,
We imp their Grandeur, and we wish their Fate.
VVhen
God appointed Kings with his own Voice,
And joyful people blest him for the Choice;
Then
Kingly Vertues set the
Monarch forth,
And not Succession Crown'd him, but his worth.
Such is thy Fate, blest
Isle! and may'st thou be
A Blessing to thy Prince as He's to thee!
May he thy Altars build, and Temples rear,
And late a Crown of Glory may he wear.