A PANEGYRICK To His Renowed MAjESTIE, Charles the Second, King of Great Britaine, &c.

REturn, return, strange Prodigie of Fate!
Gird on thy Beams, and re-assume thy State.
Miraculous Prince, beyond the reach of Verse,
The Fame and Wonder of the Universe!
Preserv'd by an Almighty hand, when Rome,
And raging Oliver had read thy doom!
Deliver'd from a bloudy Junto (men,
That gladly would be Murtherers agen!)
Thy valiant Arms have strugled with the Tide,
Encountred all the Winds, and scorn'd their Pride:
Guarded with Angels; yet preserv'd to be
Distracted, heart-sick England's Remedie!
Come, Royal Exile! We submit, we fall,
We bend before thy Throne, and give thee all:
Accept Eternal Honour, and that Crown,
Which Vertue, and rare Actions make thine own.
Thou shalt Eclipse the petty Courts, where Thou,
Too long a Noble Sojourner, didst bow.
The Monsieur's bravery shall vail to Thee,
And the grave Don adore thy Majestie,
While thine encreasing Glories shall out-shine
The Plumes o'th' One, and t'other's Golden Mine.
The German Eagle, when thy Lions roare,
Shall flag her wing, and towre above no more;
Shall gaze upon Thy Lustre, crouch down lower,
And bask within the Sun-shine of thy Power:
As for those Potentates that lesser be,
They shall be Greater if they stoop to Thee:
Subjects to such a King, are better far,
And happier, than other Monarchs are.
Heav'n, and brave Monck, conspire to make thy Raign
Transcend the Diadems of Charlemain.
T. F.

LONDON, Printed for HENRY MARSH at the Princes Arms in Chancery Lane near Fleetstreet, MDCLX.

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