He drained from all, and all they knew;
His apprehension quick, his judgment true,
That the most learned, with shame, confess
His knowledge more, his reading only less.

XII.

Amidst the peaceful triumphs of his reign,
What wonder, if the kindly beams he shed
Revived the drooping arts again,

If science raised her head,

And soft humanity, that from rebellion fled. Our isle, indeed, too fruitful was before; But all uncultivated lay

Out of the solar walk, and heaven's high way;

With rank Geneva weeds run o'er,

And cockle, at the best, amidst the corn it bore: The royal husbandman appeared,

And ploughed, and sowed, and tilled;

The thorns he rooted out, the rubbish cleared,
And blest the obedient field.

When strait a double harvest rose,
Such as the swarthy Indian mows,
Or happier climates near the Line,

Or paradise manured, and drest by hands divine.

XIII.

As when the new-born phoenix takes his way,
His rich paternal regions to survey,

Of airy choristers a numerous train

Attend his wonderous progress o'er the plain;
So, rising from his father's urn,

So glorious did our Charles return;

* A similar line occurs in the Annus Mirabilis, St. 160: Beyond the year, and out of heaven's high-way.

The expression is originally Virgil's :

Extra anni, solisque vias.

The officious muses came along,

A gay harmonious quire, like angels ever young; The muse, that mourns him now, his happy triumph sung. t

Even they could thrive in his auspicious reign; And such a plenteous crop they bore

Of purest and well-winnowed grain, As Britain never knew before.

Though little was their hire, and light their gain,
Yet somewhat to their share he threw;
Fed from his hand, they sung and flew,

Like birds of paradise, that lived on morning dew.
Oh never let their lays his name forget!
The pension of a prince's praise is great.
Live then, thou great encourager of arts,
Live ever in our thankful hearts;

Live blest above, almost invoked below;
Live and receive this pious vow,

Our patron once, our guardian angel now!
Thou Fabius of a sinking state,

Who didst by wise delays divert our fate,
When faction like a tempest rose,

In death's most hideous form,

Then art to rage thou didst oppose,
To weather out the storm;

Not quitting thy supreme command,
Thou heldst the rudder with a steady hand,
Till safely on the shore the bark did land;
The bark, that all our blessings brought,

Charged with thyself and James, a doubly-royal fraught.

XIV.

Oh frail estate of human things,

And slippery hopes below!

Now to our cost your emptiness we know;

+ See the Astræa Redux.

For 'tis a lesson dearly bought,
Assurance here is never to be sought.
The best, and best beloved of kings,
And best deserving to be so,

When scarce he had escaped the fatal blow
Of faction and conspiracy,

Death did his promised hopes destroy;
He toiled, he gained, but lived not to enjoy.
What mists of Providence are these
Through which we cannot see!

So saints, by supernatural power set free,
Are left at last in martyrdom to dię;
Such is the end of oft repeated miracles.-
Forgive me, heaven, that impious thought,
'Twas grief for Charles, to madness wrought,
That questioned thy supreme decree !
Thou didst his gracious reign prolong,
Even in thy saints and angels wrong,
His fellow-citizens of immortality:

For twelve long years of exile born,

Twice twelve we numbered since his blest return: So strictly wer't thou just to pay,

Even to the driblet of a day.

*

Yet still we murmur, and complain

The quails and manna should no longer rain :

Those miracles 'twas needless to renew;

The chosen flock has now the promised land in view.

XV.

A warlike prince ascends the regal state,

A prince long exercised by fate:

Long may he keep, though he obtains it late!

Reckoning from the death of his father, Charles had reigned thirty-six years and eight days; and, counting from his restoration, twenty-four years, eight months, and nine days.

Heroes in heaven's peculiar mould are cast;
They, and their poets, are not formed in haste;
Man was the first in God's design, and man was made
the last.

False heroes, made by flattery so,

Heaven can strike out, like sparkles, at a blow;
But ere a prince is to perfection brought,
He costs Omnipotence a second thought.
With toil and sweat,

With hardening cold, and forming heat,
The Cyclops did their strokes repeat,
Before the impenetrable shield was wrought.
It looks as if the Maker would not own
The noble work for his,

Before 'twas tried and found a master-piece.

XVI.

View then a monarch ripened for a throne. Alcides thus his race began,

O'er infancy he swiftly ran;

The future God at first was more than man:
Dangers and toils, and Juno's hate,

Even o'er his cradle lay in wait,

And there he grappled first with fate;

In his young hands the hissing snakes he prest,
So early was the Deity confest;

Thus, by degrees, he rose to Jove's imperial seat;
Thus difficulties prove a soul legitimately great.
Like his, our hero's infancy was tried;
Betimes the furies did their snakes provide,

And to his infant arms oppose

His father's rebels, and his brother's foes;
The more opprest, the higher still he rose.
Those were the preludes of his fate,
That formed his manhood, to subdue
The hydra of the many-headed hissing crew.

XVII.

As after Numa's peaceful reign,

The martial Ancus* did the sceptre wield, Furbished the rusty sword again,

Resumed the long-forgotten shield, And led the Latins to the dusty field; So James the drowsy genius wakes Of Britain long entranced in charms, Restiff and slumbering on its arms; 'Tis roused, and, with a new-strung nerve, the spear already shakes.

No neighing of the warrior steeds,
No drum, or louder trumpet, needs
To inspire the coward, warm the cold;

His voice, his sole appearance, makes them bold.
Gaul and Batavia dread the impending blow;
Too well the vigour of that arm they know;
They lick the dust, and crouch beneath their fatal
foe.

Long may they fear this awful prince,

And not provoke his lingering sword;
Peace is their only sure defence,
Their best security his word.

In all the changes of his doubtful state,
His truth, like heaven's, was kept inviolate ;
For him to promise is to make it fate.

His valour can triumph o'er land and main ;
With broken oaths his fame he will not stain;
With conquest basely bought, and with inglorious
gain.

*Ancus Martius, who succeeded the peaceful Numa Pompilius as king of Rome.