It adds much to thy glory and our grace,
That this continued current of our love
Runs thus to thee all with so swift a pace;
And that from peace to peace we do remove,
Not as in motion but from out our place,
But in one course; and do not seem to move,
But in more joy than ever heretofore;
And well we may, since thou wilt make us more.

Our love, we see, coneurs with God's great love,
Who only made thy way, thy passage plain;
Levell'd the world for thee; did all remove
That might the show but of a let retain:
Unbarr'd the North; humbl'd the South; did move
The hearts of all, the right to entertain;
Held other states embroil'd, whose envy might
Have foster'd factions to impugn thy right:

And all for thee, that we the more might praise
The glory of his pow'r, and rev'rence thine;
Whom he hath rais'd to glorify our days,
And make this empire of the north to shine,
Against all th' impious workings, all th' assays
Or vile dis-natur'd vipers; whose design
Was to embroil the state, t' obscure the light,
And that clear brightness of thy sacred right.

To whose reproach, since th' issue and success
Doth a sufficient mark of shame return,
Let no pen else blazon their ugliness:
Be it enough, that God and men do scorn
Their projects, censures, vain pretendences.
Let not our children, that are yet unborn,
Find there were any offer'd to contest,
Or make a doubt to have our kingdom bless'd.

Bury that question in th' eternal grave
Of darkness, never to be seen again.
Suffice we have thee whom we ought to have,
And t' whom all good men knew did appertain
Th' inheritance thy sacred birth-right gave;
That needed n' other suffrages t' ordain
What only was thy due, nor no decree

To be made known, since none was known but thee

Witness the joy, the universal cheer,
The speed, the ease, the will, the forwardness,
Of all this great and spacious state; how dear
It held thy title and thy worthiness.
Haste could not post so speedy any where,
But Fame seem'd there before in readiness,
To tell our hopes, and to proclaim thy name;
O greater than our hopes! more than thy fame!

What a return of comfort dost thou bring,
Now at this fresh returning of our blood;
Thus meeting with the op'ning of the spring,
To make our spirits likewise to imbud!
What a new season of encouraging
Begins t' enlength the days dispos'd to good!
What apprehension of recovery
Of greater strength, of more ability!

The pulse of England never more did beat
So strong as now-Nor ever were our hearts
Let out to hopes so spacious and so great,
As now they are Nor ever in all parts
Did we thus feel so comfortable heat,
As now the glory of thy worth imparts:
The whole complexion of the commonwealth,
So weak before, hop'd never more for health.

Could'st thou but see from Dover to the Mount,
From Totnes to the Orcades; what joy,
What cheer, what triumphs, and what dear account
Is held of thy renown this blessed day!

A day, which we and ours must ever count
Our solemn festival, as well we may.

And though men thus court kings still which are new;
Yet do they more, when they find more is due.

They fear the humours of a future prince,
Who either lost a good, or felt a bad:
But thou hast cheer'd us of this fear long since
We know thee more than by report we had.
We have an everlasting evidence
Under thy hand; that now we need not dread
Thou wilt be otherwise in thy designs,
Than there thou art in those judicial lines.

It is the greatest glory upon Earth
To be a king; but yet much more to give
The institution with the happy birth
Unto a king, and teach him how to live.

We have by thee far more than thine own worth,
That doth encourage, strengthen, and relieve
Our hopes in the succession of thy blood,
That like to thee, they likewise will be good.

We have an earnest, that doth even tie
Thy sceptre to thy word, and binds thy crown
(That else no band can bind) to ratify
What thy religious hand hath there set down;
Wherein thy all-commanding sov'reignty
Stands subject to thy pen and thy renown.
There we behold thee king of thine own heart;
And see what we must be, and what thou art.

There, great exemplar! prototype of kings!
We find the good shall dwell within thy court:
Plain Zeal and Truth, free from base flatterings,
Shall there be entertain'd, and have resort:
Honest Discretion, that no cunning brings;
But counsels that lie right, and that import,
Is there receiv'd with those whose care attends
Thee and the state more than their private ends.

There grace and favour shall not be dispos'd,
But by proportion, even and upright,
There are no mighty mountains interpos'd
Between thy beams and us, t' imbar thy light.
There majesty lives not as if enclos'd,
Or made a prey t' a private benefit.
The hand of pow'r deals there her own reward,
And thereby reaps the whole of men's regard.

There is no way to get up to respect,
But only by the way of worthiness;
All passages that may seem indirect,
Are stopt up now; and there is no access
By gross corruption: bribes cannot effect
For th' undeserving any offices.

Th' ascent is clean; and he that doth ascend,
Must have his means as clean as is his end.

The deeds of worth, and laudable deserts,
Shall not now pass thorough the straight report
Of an embasing tongue, that but imparts.
What with his ends and humours shall comport.
The prince himself now hears, sees, knows what parts
Honour and virtue acts, and in what sort;
And thereto gives his grace accordingly,
And cheers up other to the like thereby.

Nor shall we now have use for flattery;
For he knows falsehood far more subtle is
Than truth, baseness than liberty,
Fear than love, t' invent these flourishes:
And adulation now is spent so nigh,
As that it hath no colours to express

That which it would, that now we must be fain
T" unlearn that art, and labour to be plain.

For where there is no ear to be abus'd,

None will be found that dare t' inform a wrong:
The insolent depraver stands confus'd;
The impious atheist seems to want a tongue.
Transform'd into the fashion that is us'd,
All strive t' appear like those they live among:
And all will seem compos'd by that same square,
By which they see the best and greatest are.

Such pow'r hath thy example and respect,
As that without a sword, without debate,
Without a noise, (or feeling, in effect)
Thou wilt dispose, change, form, accommodate,
Thy kingdom, people, rule, and all effect,
Without the least convulsion of the state;
That this great passage and mutation will
Not seem a change, but only of our ill.

We shall continue and remain all one,
In law, in justice, and in magistrate :
Thou wilt not alter the foundation
Thy ancesters have laid of this estate,
Nor grieve thy land with innovation,
Nor take from us more than thou wilt collate;
Knowing that course is best to be observ'd,
Whereby a state hath longest been preserv’d.

A king of England now most graciously
Remits the injuries that have been done
T'a king of Scots, and makes his clemency
To check them more than his correction:
Th' anointed blood that stain'd most shamefully
This ill-seduced state, he looks thereon

With eye of grief, not wrath, t' avenge the same,
Since th' authors are extinct that caus'd that shame.

By which improvement we shall gain much more
Than by Peru; or all discoveries:

For this way to embase, is to enstore
The treasure of the land, and make it rise.
This is the only key t' unlock the door,
To let out plenty, that it may suffice:
For more than all this isle, for more increase
Of subjects than by thee, there can increase.

This shall make room and place enough for all,
Which otherwise would not suffice a few:
And by proportion geometrical,

Shall so dispose to all what shall be due,
As that without corruption, wrangling, brawl,
Intrusion, wrestling, and by means undue ;
Desert shall have her charge, and but one charge,
As having but one body to discharge.

Whereby the all-incheering majesty
Shall come to shine at full in all her parts,
And spread her beams of comfort equally,

As being all alike to like deserts.

For thus to check, embase, and vilify

Th' esteem of wealth, will fashion so our hearts
To worthy ends, as that we shall by much
More labour to be good than to be rich.

This will make peace with Law; restore the Bar
T'her ancient silence; where contention now
Makes so confus'd a noise-This will debar
The fost'ring of debate; and overthrow
That ugly monster, that foul ravener,
Extortion, which so hideously did grow,
By making prey upon our misery,
And wasting it again as wickedly.

The strange examples of impov'rishments,
Of sacrilege, exaction, and of waste,
Shall not be made, nor held as presidents
For times to come; but end with th' ages past.
When as the state shall yield more supplements
(B'ing well employ'd) than kings can well exhaust;
This golden meadow lying ready still
Then to be mow'd, when their occasions will.

Favour, like pity, in the hearts of men
Have the first touches ever violent;
But soon again it comes to languish, when
The motive of that humour shall be spent:
But b'ing still fed with that which first hath been
The cause thereof, it holds still permanent,
And is kept in by course, by form, by kind;
And time begets more ties, that still more bind.

The broken frame of this disjointed state
B'ing by the bliss of thy great grandfather
(Henry the Seventh) restor❜d to an estate
More sound than ever, and more stedfaster,

Stands bound to thee, that art his successor:
For without him it had not been begun;
And without thee we had been now undone.

[thing

He of a private man became a king;
Having endur'd the weight of tyranny,
Mourn'd with the world, complain'd, and knew the
That good men wish for in their misery
Under ill kings; saw what it was to bring
Order and form, to the recovery

Of an unruly state: conceiv'd what cure
Would kill the cause of this distemp'rature.

Thou, born a king, hast in thy state endur'd
The sowre affronts of private discontent,
With subjects' broils; and ever been inur'd
To this great mystery of government:
Whereby thy princely wisdom hath allur'd
A state to peace, left to thee turbulent,
And brought us an addition to the frame
Of this great work, squar'd fitly to the same.

And both you (by th' all-working providence,
That fashions out of dangers, toils, debates,
Those whom it hath ordained to commence
The first and great establishments of states)
Came when your aid, your pow'r's experience
(Which out of judgment best accommodates
These joints of rule) was more than most desir'd,
And when the times of need the most requir'd.

And as he laid the model of this frame,
By which was built so strong a work of state,
As all the pow'rs of changes in the same,
All that excess of a disordinate

And lustful prince, nor all that after came;
Nor child, nor stranger, nor yet women's fate,
Could once disjoint the compliments, whereby
It held together in just symmetry.

So thou likewise art come, as fore-ordain'd
To reinforce the same more really,
Which oftentimes hath but been entertain'd
By th' only style and name of majesty ;
And by no other counsels oft attain'd
Those ends of her enjoy'd tranquillity,
Than by this form, and by th' encumbrances
Of neighbour-states, that gave it a success.

That had'st thou had no title, (as thou hast
The only right; and none hath else a right)
We yet must now have been enforc'd t' have cast
Ourselves into thy arms, to set all right;
And to avert confusion, bloodshed, waste,
That otherwise upon us needs must light.
None but a king, and no king else beside,
Could now have sav'd this state from b'ing destroy'd.
Thus hath the hundred years brought back again
The sacred blood lent to adorn the north,
And here return'd it with a greater gain,
And greater glory than we sent it forth.
Thus doth th' all-working Providence retain,
And keep for great effects the seed of worth,
And so doth point the stops of time thereby,
In periods of uncertain certainty.

Margret of Richmond, (glorious grandmother
Unto that other precious Margaret,

From whence th' Almighty worker did transfer
This branch of peace, as from a root well set)
Thou mother, author, plotter, counsellor
Of union! that did'st both conceive, beget,
And bring forth happiness to this great state,
To make it thus entirely fortunate:

O could'st thou now but view this fair success,
This great effect of thy religious work,
And see therein how God hath pleas'd to bless
Thy charitable counsels; and to work
Still greater good out of the blessedness
Of this conjoined Lancaster and York:
Which all conjoin'd within; and those shut out,
Whom nature and their birth had set without!

How much hast thou bound all posterities
In this great work to reverence thy name!
And with thee that religious, faithful, wise,
And learned Morton! who contriv'd the same,
And first advis'd, and did so well advise,

As that the good success that thereof came,
Show'd well, that holy hands, clean thoughts, clear
Are only fit to act such glorious parts. [hearts,

But, Muse, these dear remembrances must be
In their convenient places registred,
When thou shalt bring stern Discord to agree,
And bloody War into a quiet bed.
Which work must now be finished by thee,
That long hath lain undone; as destined
Unto the glory of these days: for which
Thy vows and verse have laboured so much.

Thou ever hast opposed all thy might
Against contention, fury, pride, and wrong;
Persuading still to hold the course of right;
And peace hath been the burden of thy song.
And now thyself shalt have the benefit
Of quietness, which thou hast wanted long ;
And now shalt have calm peace, and union
With thine own wars; and now thou must go on.

Only the joy of this so dear a thing
Made me look back unto the cause, whence came
This so great good, this blessing of a king;
When our estate so much requir'd the same:
When we had need of pow'r for th' well-ord'ring
Of our affairs: need of a spir't to frame
The world to good, to grace and worthiness,
Out of this humour of luxuriousness:

And bring us back unto ourselves again,
Unto our ancient native modesty,
From out these foreign sins we entertain,
These loathsome surfeits, ugly gluttony;
From this unmanly, and this idle vein
Of wanton and superfluous bravery;
The wreck of gentry, spoil of nobleness;
And square us by thy temp'rate soberness.
When abstinence is fashion'd by the time,
It is no rare thing to be abstinent: [crime)
But then it is, when th' age (full fraught with
Lies prostrate unto all misgovernment.
And who is not licentious in the prime
And heat of youth, nor then incontinent
When out of might he may, he never will;
No pow'r can tempt him to that taste of ill.

Then what are we t' expect from such a hand,
That doth this stern of fair example guide?
Who will not now shame to have no command
Over his lusts? who would be seen t' abide
Unfaithful to his vows; t' infringe the band
Of a most sacred knot which God hath ty'd?
Who would now seem to be dishonoured
With th' unclean touch of an unlawful bed?

What a great check will this chaste court be now
To wanton courts debauch'd with luxury;
Where we no other mistresses shall know,
But her to whom we owe our loyalty?
Chaste mother of our princes, whence do grow
Those righteous issues, which shall glorify
And comfort many nations with their worth,
To her perpetual grace that brought them forth.

We shall not fear to have our wives distain'd,
Nor yet our daughters violated here
By an imperial lust, that b'ing unrein'd,
Will hardly be resisted any where.

He will not be betray'd with ease, nor train'd
With idle rest, in soft delights to wear

His time of life; but knows whereto he tends; How worthy minds are made for worthy ends.

And that this mighty work of Union, now
Begun with glory, must with grace run on,
And be so clos'd, as all the joints may grow
Together firm in due proportion:

A work of pow'r and judgment, that must show
All parts of wisdom and discretion,
That man can show; that no cloud may impair
This day of hope, whose morning shows so fair.

He hath a mighty burden to sustain
Whose fortune doth succeed a gracious prince;
Or where men's expectations entertain
Hopes of more good, and more beneficence:
But yet he undergoes a greater pain,

A more laborious work; who must commence
The great foundation of a government,
And lay the frame of order and content.

Especially where men's desires do run
A greedy course of eminency, gain,
And private hopes; weighing not what is done
For the republic, so themselves may gain
Their ends; and where few care who be undone,
So they be made: whilst all do entertain
The present motions that this passage brings,
With th' infancy of change, under new kings.

So that the weight of all seems to rely
Wholly upon thine own discretion;
Thy judgment now must only rectify
This frame of pow'r thy glory stands upon:
From thee must come, that thy posterity
May joy this peace, and hold this union.
For whilst all work for their own benefit,
Thy only work must keep us all upright.

For did not now thy full maturity

Of years and wisdom, that discern what shows,
What art and colours may deceive the eye,
Secure our trust that that clear judgment knows
Upon what grounds depend thy majesty,
And whence the glory of thy greatness grows;
We might distrust, lest that a side might part
Thee from thyself, and so surprise thy heart.
Since thou 'rt but one, and that against thy breast
Are laid all th' engines both of skill and wit;
And all th' assaults of cunning are address'd,
With stratagems of art, to enter it;
To make a prey of grace, and to invest
Their pow'rs within thy love; that they might sit,
And stir that way which their affection tends,
Respecting but themselves and their own ends.

And see'ng how difficult a thing it is

To rule; and what strength is requir'd to stand
Against all th' interplac'd respondences
Of combinations, set to keep the hand
And eye of Pow'r from out the provinces,
That Avarice may draw to her command;
Which, to keep hers, she others vows to spare,
That they again to her might use like care.

But God that rais'd thee up to act this part,
Hath giv'n thee all those pow'rs of worthiness,
Fit for so great a work; and fram'd thy heart
Discernible of all apparencies;

Taught thee to know the world, and this great art
Of ord'ring man: knowledge of knowledges!
That from thee mén might reckon how this state
Became restor❜d, and was made fortunate.

That thou the first with us in name, might'st be
The first in course, to fashion us a-new;
Wherein the times hath offer'd that to thee,
Which seldom t' other princes could accrue.
Thou hast th' advantage only to be free,

T' employ thy favours where they shall be due ;
And to dispose they grace in general,

And like to Jove, to be alike to all.

Thy fortune hath indebted thee to none,
But t' all thy people universally;
And not to them, but for their love alone,
Which they account is placed worthily.
Nor wilt thou now frustrate their hopes, whereon
They rest; nor they fail in their loyalty:
Since no prince comes deceived in his trust,
But he that first deceives, and proves unjust.

Then since we are in this so fair a way
Of restoration, greatness, and command;
Cursed be he that causes the least stay
In this fair work, or interrupts thy hand;
And cursed he that offers to betray
Thy graces, or thy goodness to withstand;
Let him be held abhorr'd, and all his race
Inherit but the portion of disgrace.

And he that shall by wicked offices
Be th' author of the least disturbancy,
Or seek t' avert thy godly purposes,
Be ever held the scorn of infamy.

And let men but consider their success,
Who princes' loves abus'd presumptuously;
They shall perceive their ends do still relate,

That sure God loves them not, whom men do hate.

And it is just, that they who make a prey
Of princes' favours, in the end again
Be made a prey to princes; and repay
The spoils of misery with greater gain:
Whose sacrifices ever do allay

The wrath of men conceiv'd in their disdain:
For that their hatred prosecuteth still
More than ill princes, those that make them ill.

But both thy judgment and estate doth free
Thee from these pow'rs of fear and flattery,
The conquerors of kings; by whom, we see,
Are wrought the acts of all impiety.
Thou art so set, as thou'st no cause to be
Jealous, or dreadful of disloyalty:
The pedestal whereon thy greatness stands,
Is built of all our hearts, and all our hands.

ΤΟ

LORD KEEPER OF THE GREAT SEAL OF ENGLAND.

WELL hath the powerful hand of majesty,
Thy worthiness, and England's hap beside,
Set thee in th' aidfull'st room of dignity;
As th' isthmus these two oceans to divide,
Of rigour and confus'd uncertainty,

To keep out th' intercourse of wrong and pride,
That they ingulf not up unsuccour'd right,
By th' extreme current of licentious might.

Now when we see the most combining band,
The strongest fast'ning of society,

Law, whereon all this frame of men doth stand,
Remain concussed with uncertainty;
And seem to foster, rather than withstand
Contention; and embrace obscurity,
Only t' afflict, and not to fashion ns,
Making her cure far worse than the disease:

As if she had made covenant with wrong,
To part the prey made on our weaknesses;
And suffer'd falsehood to be arm'd as strong
Unto the combat, as is righteousness;
Or suited her, as if she did belong
Unto our passions; and did ev'n profess
Contention, as her only mystery,
Which she restrains not, but doth multiply.

Was she the same she 's now, in ages past?
Or was she less, when she was used less;
And grows as malice grows; and so comes cast
Just to the form of our unquietness?

Or made more slow, the more that strife runs fast;
Staying t' undo us, ere she will redress?

That th' ill she checks, seems suffer'd to be ill,
When it yields greater gain than goodness will.

Must there be still some discord mix'd among
The harmony of men; whose mood accords
Best with contention, tun'd t' a note of wrong?
That when war fails, peace must make war with
words,

And b' arm'd unto destruction ev'n as strong,
As were in ages past our civil swords :
Making as deep, although unbleeding wounds;
That when as fury fails, wisdom confounds.

If it be wisdom, and not cunning, this
Which so embroils the state of truth with brawls,
And wraps it up in strange confusedness;
As if it liv'd immur'd within the walls

Of hideous terms, fram'd out of barb'rousness
And foreign customs, the memorials
Of our subjection; and could never be
Deliver'd but by wrangling subtilty.

Whereas it dwells free in the open plain,
Uncurious, gentle, easy of access:
Certain unto itself; of equal vein;
One face, one colour, one assuredness.
It's falsehood that is intricate and vain,
And needs these labyrinths of subtleness:

For where the cunning'st cov'rings most appear,
It argues still that all is not sincere.

Altar of safeguard! Whereto affliction flies,
From th' eager pursuit of severity.
Haven of peace! That labour'st to withdraw
Justice from out the tempests of the law;

And set her in a calm and even way,
Plain, and directly leading to redress;
Barring these counter-courses of delay,
These wasting, dilatory processes.
Ranging into their right and proper ray,
Errours, demurs, essoigns, and traverses;
The heads of hydra, springing out of death,
That gives this monster Malice still new breath.

That what was made for the utility

And good of man, might not be turn'd t' his hurt,
To make him worser by his remedy,

And cast him down with what should him support,
Nor that the state of law might lose thereby
The due respect and rev'rence of her port;
And seem a trap to catch our ignorance,
And to entangle our intemperance.

Since her interpretations, and our deeds,
Unto a like infinity arise;

As being a science that by nature breeds
Contention, strife, and ambiguities.
For altercation controversy feeds,
And in her agitation multiplies:
The field of cavil lying all like wide,
Yields like advantage unto either side,

Which made the grave Castilian king devise
A prohibition, that no advocate
Should be convey'd to th' Indian colonies;
Lest their new setting, shaken with debate,
Might take but slender root, and so not rise
To any perfect growth of firm estate.
"For having not this skill how to contend,
Th' unnourish'd strife would quickly make an end."
So likewise did the Hungarian, when he saw
These great Italian bartolists, who were
Call'd in of purpose to explain the law,

T" embroil it more, and make it much less clear;
Caus'd them from out his kingdom to withdraw,
With this infestious skill, some other-where ;
Whose learning rather let men further out,
And open'd wider passages of doubt.

Seeing ev'n injustice may be regulate;
And no proportion can there be betwixt
Our actions, which in endless motion are,
And th' ordinances, which are always fix'd:
Ten thousand laws more cannot reach so far,
But malice goes beyond, or lives immix'd
So close with goodness, as it ever will
Corrupt, disguise, or counterfeit it still.

And therefore did those glorious monarchs (who
Divide with God the style of majesty,
For being good; and had a care to do
The world right, and succour honesty)
Ordain this sanctuary, whereunto

Th' oppress'd might fly; the seat of equity,
Whereon thy virtues sit with fair renown,
The greatest grace and glory of the gown.