Chapter XX: Introduction: To Thomas Flatman (5)

See, see! she comes, she comes, and now adieu!
Let's bid adieu to shore,
And to all we fear'd before;
O Castabella! we depend on you,
On you our better fortunes lay,
Whose eyes and voice the winds and seas obey.

[_Castabella Going to Sea._] There was a _Philip_ Hart in the
next generation who was a composer, and perhaps James was his
father; for the less reputed and more professional arts
like music, painting, engraving, dancing, &c. tended to be
hereditary in those days.]

[Line: 17 Byron might have alleged Flatman's practice, in the
same context of sea-piece, for the too-celebrated 'There let
him _lay_'. But the correct use is possible.]

_On the Death of my worthy friend Mr. John Oldham._

PINDARIC PASTORAL ODE.

_Stanza I._

Undoubtedly 'tis thy peculiar fate,
Ah miserable Astragon!
Thou art condemn'd alone
To bear the burthen of a wretched life,
Still in this howling wilderness to roam,
Whilst all thy bosom friends unkindly go,
And leave thee to lament them here below.
Thy dear Alexis wouldn't stay,
Joy of thy life, and pleasure of thine eyes,
Dear Alexis went away, 10
With an invincible surprise;
Th' angelic youth early dislik'd this state,
And innocently yielded to his fate;
Never did soul of a celestial birth
Inform a purer piece of earth:
O! that 'twere not in vain,
To wish what's past might be retriev'd again!
Thy dotage, thy Alexis then
Had answer'd all thy vows and prayers,
And crown'd with pregnant joys thy silver hairs, 20
Lov'd to this day amongst the living sons of men.

II.

And thou, my friend, hast left me too,
Menalcas! poor Menalcas! even thou!
Of whom so loudly Fame has spoke
In the records of her eternal book,
Whose disregarded worth ages to come
Shall wail with indignation o'er thy tomb.
Worthy wert thou to live, as long as Vice
Should need a satire, that the frantic age
Might tremble at the lash of thy poetic rage. 30
Th' untutor'd world in after times
May live uncensur'd for their crimes,
Freed from the dreads of thy reforming pen,
Turn to old Chaos once again.
Of all th' instructive bards, whose more than Theban lyre,
Could salvage souls with manly thoughts inspire,
Menalcas worthy was to live:
Tell me, ye mournful swains,
Say you his fellow-shepherds that survive,
Has my ador'd Menalcas left behind 40
On all these pensive plains
A gentler shepherd with a braver mind?
Which of you all did more majestic show,
Or wore the garland on a sweeter brow?

III.

But wayward Astragon resolves no more
The death of his Menalcas to deplore.
The place to which he wisely is withdrawn
Is altogether blest.
There, no clouds o'erwhelm his breast,
No midnight cares shall break his rest, 50
For all is everlasting cheerful dawn.
The Poets' charming bliss,
Perfect ease and sweet recess,
There shall he long possess.
The treacherous world no more shall him deceive,
Of hope and fortune he has taken leave;
And now in mighty triumph does he reign
O'er the unthinking rabble's spite
(His head adorn'd with beams of light)
And the dull wealthy fool's disdain. 60
Thrice happy he, that dies the Muses' friend;
He needs no obelisk, no pyramid
His sacred dust to hide,
He needs not for his memory to provide,
For well he knows his praise can never end.

[_On the Death of Mr. John Oldham._] Oldham died in 1683.]

[Alexis seems to be Richard Flatman, Oldham Menalcas, the poet
himself Astragon. It is curious that the printers--and
perhaps even the writers--of this time were so besotted with
'apostrophation' as even to use it when the full value is
metrically necessary, as here in 'wouldn't', which must be
'would _not_' to scan.

These lines were first printed before _Remains of Mr. John
Oldham in Verse and Prose_, 1684. The chief variants are:

[Line: 8 wouldn't] would not.

[Line: 12 angelic] Angel-like.

[Line: 13 innocently yielded] cheerfully submitted.

[Line: 29 satire] In original, as often, 'Satyr'.]

[Line: 50 shall] can.]

[Lines 52 and 54 form one long line, followed by 53,
which reads 'soft recess'; lines 58 and 59 are transposed.]

[Line: 65 For well he knows] For he might well foresee.]

On Sir John Micklethwaite's Monument in S. Botolphs-Aldersgate-Church, London.

M. S.

_Heic juxta spe plenâ resurgendi situm est_
_Depositum mortale_

_JOANNIS MICKLETHWAITE Equitis_,
_Serenissimo Principi Carolo II. a Medicinâ_,
_Qui cum primis solertissimus_, _fidissimus_, _felicissimus_,
_In Collegio Medicorum Londinensium_
_Lustrum integrum et quod excurrit_
_Praesidis Provinciam dignissimè ornavit:_
_Et tandem emenso aetatis tranquillae stadio_, 10
_Pietate sincerâ_,
_Inconcussâ vitae integritate_,
_Benignâ morum suavitate_,
_Sparsâ passim Philanthropiâ_
_Spectabilis_;
_Miserorum Asylum_,
_Maritus optimus_,
_Parens indulgentissimus_,
_Suorum luctus_,
_Bonorum omnium Amor et Deliciae_, 20
_Septuagenarius senex_,
_Coelo maturus_,
_Fato non invitus cessit_
_IV Kal. Augusti Anno salutis MDCLXXXII_.
_Caetera loquantur_
_Languentium deploranda suspiria_,
_Viduarum ac Orphanorum_
_Propter amissum Patronum profundi gemitus_,
_Pauperumque_,
_Nudorum jam, atque esurientium_ 30
_Importuna Viscera_,
_Monumenta, hoc marmore longe perenniora_.
_Maerens posuit pientissima Conjunx_.

[_On Sir John Micklethwaite's Monument_, &c.] Micklethwaite
(1612-82) was President of the College of Physicians 1676-81
(_lustrum integrum_).]

[Line: 8 _Et quod excurrit_ is a technical Latin phrase in
scientific post-classical writers for 'and more', 'above'.]

[Line: 10 _emenso ... stadio_.] The exact threescore years and
ten.]

[Line: 33 _pientissima_.] The usual form for inscriptions,
though _piissimus_ (in spite of Cicero's condemnation) was
used elsewhere.]

M. S.

_Heic juxta jacet_

_THOMAS ROCK Armg. Salopiensis_,

_Vitâ functus Januarii 3. Aetat. 62. 1678_

_En Lector!_

_Cinerem non vulgarem_,
_Virum vere magnum_,
_Si prisca fides, pietasque primaeva_,
_Si amicitiae foedera strictissima_,
_Si pectus candidum, et sincerum_, 10
_Ac integerrima Vita_,
_Virum vere magnum conflare poterint_.
_En hominem Cordatum!_
_Calamitosae Majestatis_
(_Furente nuperâ perduellium rabie_)
_Strenuum assertorem_,
_Obstinatum Vindicem!_
_En animae generosae quantillum Ergastulum!_
_O charum Deo Depositum!_
_Vestrum undequaquam Inopes_, 20
_Vestrum quotcunque Viri praestantiores_,
_Dolorem inconsolabilem_,
_Desiderium, in omne aevum, irreparabile!_

[_Thomas Rock._] I know not Thomas Rock, Esq. His Royalism
(ll. 10-13) was befitting a Salopian.]

_On the Death of the Illustrious Prince Rupert._

PINDARIC ODE.

_Stanza_ I.

MAN surely is not what he seems to be;
Surely ourselves we overrate,
Forgetting that like other creatures, we
Must bend our heads to Fate.
Lord of the whole Creation, MAN
(How big the title shows!)
Trifles away a few uncertain years,
Cheated with hopes, and rack'd with fears,
Through all Life's little span,
Then down to silence and to darkness goes; 10
And when we die, the crowd that trembling stood
Erewhile struck with the terror of a nod,
Shake off their wonted reverence with their chains,
And at their pleasure use our poor remains.
Ah, mighty Prince!
Whom lavish Nature and industrious Art
Had fitted for immortal Fame,
Their utmost bounty could no more impart;
How comes it that thy venerable name
Should be submitted to my theme? 20
Unkindly baulk'd by the prime skilful men,
Abandon'd to be sullied by so mean a pen!
Tell me, ye skilful men, if you have read
In all the fair memorials of the Dead,
A name so formidably great,
So full of wonders, and unenvi'd love,
In which all virtues and all graces strove,
So terrible, and yet so sweet;
Show me a star in Honour's firmament,
(Of the first magnitude let it be) 30
That from the darkness of this World made free,
A brighter lustre to this World has lent.
Ye men of reading, show me one
That shines with such a beam as His.
Rupert's a constellation
Outvies Arcturus, and the Pleïades.
And if the Julian Star of old outshone
The lesser fires, as much as them the Moon,
Posterity perhaps will wonder why
An hero more divine than he 40
Should leave (after his Apotheosis)
No gleam of light in all the Galaxy
Bright as the Sun in the full blaze of noon.

III.

How shall my trembling Muse thy praise rehearse!
Thy praise too lofty ev'n for Pindar's verse!
Whence shall she take her daring flight,
That she may soar aloft
In numbers masculine and soft,
In numbers adequate
To thy renown's celestial height! 50
If from thy noble pedigree
The royal blood that sparkled in thy veins
A low plebeian eulogy disdains,
And he blasphemes that meanly writes of thee;
If from thy martial deeds she boldly rise,
And sing thy valiant infancy,
Rebellious Britain after felt full well,
Thou from thy cradle wert a miracle.
Swaddled in armour, drums appeas'd thy cries,
And the shrill trumpet sung thy lullabies. 60
The babe Alcides thus gave early proof
In the first dawning of his youth,
When with his tender hand the snakes he slew,
What monsters in his riper years he would subdue.

IV.

Great Prince, in whom Mars and Minerva join'd
Their last efforts to frame a mighty mind,
A pattern for brave men to come, design'd:
How did the rebel troops before thee fly!
How of thy genius stand in awe!
When from the sulphurous cloud 70
Thou in thunder gav'st aloud
Thy dreadful law
To the presumptuous enemy.
In vain their traitorous ensigns they display'd,
In vain they fought, in vain they pray'd,
At thy victorious arms dismay'd.
Till Providence for causes yet unknown,
Causes mysterious and deep,
Conniv'd awhile, as if asleep,
And seem'd its dear Anointed to disown; 80
The prosperous villany triumph'd o'er the Crown,
And hurl'd the best of monarchs from his Throne.
O tell it not in Gath, nor Ascalon!
The best of monarchs fell by impious power,
Th' unspotted Victim for the guilty bled.
He bow'd, he fell, there where he bow'd he fell down dead;
Baptiz'd Blest Martyr in his sacred gore.

V.

Nor could those tempests in the giddy State,
O mighty Prince, thy loyalty abate.
Though put to flight, thou fought'st the Parthian way, 90
And still the same appear'dst to be
Among the beasts and scaly fry,
A Behemoth on land and a Leviathan at sea;
Still wert thou brave, still wert thou good,
Still firm to thy allegiance stood
Amidst the foamings of the popular flood.
(Cato with such a constancy of mind,
Espous'd that cause which all his Gods declin'd.)
Till gentler stars amaz'd to see
Thy matchless and undaunted bravery, 100
Blush'd and brought back the murthered Father's Son,
Lest thou shouldst plant him in th' Imperial Throne,
Thou with thy single hand alone.
He that forgets the glories of that day,
When CHARLES the Merciful return'd,
Ne'er felt the transports of glad Sion's Joy,
When she had long in dust and ashes mourn'd:
He never understood with what surprise
She open'd her astonish'd eyes
To see the goodly fabric of the second Temple rise. 110

VI.

When CHARLES the Merciful his entrance made
The day was all around serene,
Not one ill-boding cloud was seen
To cast a gloomy shade
On the triumphal cavalcade.
In that, his first, and happy scene,
The Pow'rs above foretold his halcyon reign,
In which, like them, he evermore should prove
The kindest methods of Almighty Love:
And when black crimes his justice should constrain, 120
His pious breast should share the criminal's pain:
Fierce as the Lion can he be, and gentle as the Dove.
Here stop, my Muse,--the rest let Angels sing,
Some of those Angels, who with constant care
To His Pavilion, near attendants are,
A life-guard giv'n him by th' Omnipotent King,
Th' Omnipotent King, whose character he bears,
Whose diadem on Earth he wears;
And may he wear it long, for many, many years.

VII.

And now (illustrious Ghost!) what shall we say? 130
What tribute to thy precious memory pay?
Thy death confounds, and strikes all sorrows dumb.
Kingdoms and empires make their moan,
Rescu'd by thee from desolation;
In pilgrimage hereafter shall they come,
And make their offerings before thy tomb,
Great Prince, so fear'd abroad, and so ador'd at home
Jove's Bird that durst of late confront the Sun,
And in the wanton German banners play'd,
Now hangs her wing and droops her head, 140
Now recollects the battles thou hast won,
And calls too late to thee for aid.
All Christendom deplores the loss,
Whilst bloody Mahomet like a whirlwind flies,
And insolently braves the ill-befriended cross.
Europe in blood, and in confusion lies,
Thou in an easy good old age,
Remov'd from this tumultuous stage,
Sleep'st unconcern'd at all its rage,
Secure of Fame, and from Detraction free: 150
He that to greater happiness would attain,
Or towards Heav'n would swifter fly,
Must be much more than mortal man,
And never condescend to die.

_Dec. 13, 1682._

[_On the Death of Prince Rupert._] First printed in folio,
1683; there are two trivial changes in the text--'Blest Martyr
baptized', l. 87, and 'Diadems', l. 128. That both the English
and the Latin of these poems are Flatman's, despite the
_Authore Anonymo_ of the latter, is a conclusion which I shall
give up at once on production of any positive evidence to the
contrary, but shall hold meanwhile. Rupert's love for the Arts
would of itself attract Flatman, and he hints at this in ll.
16 and 65.]

[Line: 21 The 'prime skilfulness' may glance at Dryden--there
were few others who were primely skilful at funeral odes or
any other in 1682. But Rupert had kept aloof from Court for
years.]

[Lines: 74-6 Orig. 'displaid' and 'dismaid': but not 'pr_ai_d'.]

[Lines: 90-4 A rather ingenious handling of those adventurous
and almost heroic cruises of Rupert's with the remnant of the
Royalist fleet which some have unkindly (and in strictness
quite unjustifiably) called 'buccaneering' or 'piratical'.]

[Lines: 111-29 One would have expected, instead of the banal
laudation of Charles, something about Rupert's share in the
Dutch wars, and his occupations in chemistry, engraving, &c.
But there was perhaps some ox on Flatman's tongue (for the
Prince had not been fortunate at the last in fight); and,
besides, all these later poems show a want of the spirit and
the verve which is by no means wanting in the earlier. The
words to Woodford (_v. sup._, p. 367) were rather too well
justified.]

Poema in Obitum Illustrissimi Principis Ruperti

Latine Redditum

Non carmine Pindarico (ut illud) sed, (ut vocatur,)

Lapidario

(Quod est medium inter Oratoriam et Poesin)

Vide sis Emanuelem Thesaurum, in Patriarchis.

AUTHORE ANONYMO.

I.

_Proculdubio non sumus quod videmur_,
_Et nosmet ipsos aequo plus aestimamus_,
_Obliti quod_, _veluti Creatis omnibus_,
_Et nobis etiam Fato succumbendum_.
_Homo_, _totius Terrarum Orbis Dominus_,
(_Heu quam superbe_, _quam fastuose sonat!_)
_Paucos et incertos illudit annos_,
_Nunc spe deceptus_, _nunc metu cruciatus_,
_Per angustum Vitae curriculum_,
_Tandem ad taciturnas labitur Tenebras_. 10
_Et quando morimur_, _quam cito Turba tremula_,
_Jamdudum Nutus terrore percita_,
_Venerationem solitam_ (_cum Catenis_) _exuunt_
_Et ad libitum despectas tractant Reliquias_.
_Potentissime Princeps!_
_Quem prodiga Natura_, _et Ars industria_
_Ad celebritatem immortalem adaptâssent_,
_Cui plus addere non valuit ipsius ultima Benignitas_;
_Unde venit quod Nomen tuum Venerandum_
_Themati meo prostitueretur?_ 20
_Per Viros Doctiores ingrate neglectum_,
_Et indoctâ meâ Musâ delineari relictum!_

II.

_Dicite mihi_, _Viri peritiores_, _si legistis_
_In pulchris Mortuorum Catalogis_
_Nomen adeo formidate Magnum_,
_Tantis Mirâclis et inaemulo amore refertum;_
_In quo omnes Charites & Virtutes concertârunt_.
_Adeo terribile_, _et adeo dulce Nomen_.
_Ostendite mihi Stellam in Firmamento Honoris_
(_Sit etiam Primae Magnitudinis_) 30
_Quae a tenebris hujus Mundi erepta_
_Majorem Mundo fulgorem praestitit;_
_O Viri eruditi_, _ostendite mihi unam_,
_Quae tam splendido Radio effulget_.
_Rupertus est Constellatio--_
_Praelucens Arcturum et Pleiades_.
_Et si olim Stella Juliana praefulsit_
_Ignes minores_, _quantum illos Luna_,
_Posteritas forsitan mirabitur_, _quare_
_Hero illo multo Divinior_, 40
_Nullum_ (_post ejus Apotheosin_)
_In Galaxiâ jubar relinqueret_
_Sole clarius Meridionali_.

III.

_Quo pacto Musa mea tremens laudes tuas recitabit?_
_Laudes tuas_, _etiam Pindari Carmine excelsiores!_
_Unde volatum sumet audacem_,
_Ut in altum sublevetur_
_In Numeris Masculis et Blandis_,
_In numeris adaequatis_
_Coelesti Famae tuae sublimitati?_ 50
_Si a Nobili tuâ Genealogiâ_
_Sanguis Regalis in Venis tuis scintillans_
_Humilem et Plebeiam dedignatur Eulogiam_,
(_Nam de Te modice loquens Blasphemat_)
_Si a claris Bellicis facinoribus incipiet_,
_Et Virilia incunabula decantet_,
_Rebellis jamdudum sentivit Britannia_,
_Quantis Mirandis Cunae tuae claruere_,
_Loricis fasciatus_, _Tympana lachrymas demulserunt_,
_Et Tubarum clangores somnum allicierunt:_ 60
_Sic olim Alcides praematurum dedit specimen_
_In primo Infantiae Diluculo_,
_Angues teneris collidens manibus_
_Qualia in aetate provectâ superaret Monstra_.

IV.

_Auguste Princeps_, _in quo Mars et Minerva suas_
_Vires contulere ingentem formare Animum_
_Praeclaris Posteris in Exemplar designatum_,
_Quoties Turmae Rebelles coram te profugerunt_
_Genii tui Numine terrefactae?_
_Cum de Nube Sulphureâ_ 70
_Fulminibus dedisti sonoris_
_Leges tuas tremendas_
_Perduellibus insolentibus_,
_Frustra vexilla explicârunt perfida_,
_Frustra pugnârunt_, _frustra fuderunt preces_,
_Armis tuis Victricibus attonitae._
_Donec Superi_, _causis adhuc incognitis_,
_Causis secretis et profundis_
_Connivêre paulisper_, _quasi obdormientes_,
_Et peramatum Christum suum dereliquisse videbantur_. 80
_In Coronam triumphavit prosperum Nefas_
_Et Regum optimum a Solio deturbavit_,
_Ne annuntietis hoc in Gath aut Ascalon_,
_Monarcharum optimus impiâ vi corruit_,
_Immaculata Victima pro Sontibus fudit sanguinem:_
_Inclinavit se, cecidit_, _ubi inclinaverat cecidit mortuus_
_Martyr beatus in Sacro suo Cruore Baptisatus_.

V.

_Nec valuerunt Turbines in Anarchiâ istâ vertiginosâ_,
_Invicte Princeps_, _fidelitatem tuam vibrare_,
_Nam retrocedens pugnasti more Parthico_, 90
_Et semper Idem remansisti_,
_Inter pecora_, _et pisces squamosas_,
_In terrâ Behemoth_, _in mari Leviathan:_
_Infractus adhuc et adhuc Bonus_
_Fidelitati firmiter perseverasti_
_Inter fremitus Fluctuum Popularium_.
_Sic olim Cato pari animi constantiâ_
_Causam desponsavit_, _quam Dii omnes repudiârunt_.
_Donec Planetae benigniores_, _stupentes aspicere_
_Imparilem et impavidam tuam fortitudinem_, 100
_Erubuerunt_, _et Percussi Patris filium reduxerunt_,
_Ne tu illum in Solio Imperiali collocares_,
_Tu unicâ tuâ manu solus_.
_Qui Solis istius splendores oblitus fuerit_
_Quo Clementissimus redivit Carolus_,
_Nunquam sentivit laetae Sionis gaudia_
_Cum diu pulvere et cineribus lugisset_;
_Nunquam intellexit quali Raptu_
_Oculos extollebat attonitos_
_Templi Secundi Structuram renascentem videns_. 110

VI.

_Cum Carolus Clemens introitum fecit_
_Coelum erat undique serenum_,
_Nulla male-ominosa Nubes apparuit_
_Umbram dare tenebricosam_,
_In Equitatum istum Triumphalem_.
_In illa primâ et felici Scenâ_
_Praedixere Superi Regimen ejus Halcyoneum_
_In quo sicut illi_, _in aeternum probaret_
_Benignissimas Methodos praepotentis Amoris_.
_Et cum magna flagitia Vindictam eius provocarent_, 120
_Pectus ejus humanius Rei compateretur poenas_.
_Ut Leo ferox, mitis ut Columba_.
_Hic sileat Musa--quod reliquum est Angeli praedicent_,
_Angeli isti qui assiduâ curâ_
_Tentorio ejus quam proxime inserviunt_
_Somatophylaces à Rege Omnipotente delegati_,
_A Rege Omnipotente_, _cujus Majestatem praefert_,
_Cujus in terrâ gerit Diadema_
_Et diu gerat per multos, multos annos_.

VII.

_Quid autem_, (_Illustris Anima_) _quid dicemus?_ 130
_Quale Tributum Piae tuae Memoriae solvemus?_
_Mors tua obtundit et mutum reddit Dolorem_.
_Regna et Imperia lugubres planetus faciunt_
_Ab extremâ Ruinâ per te redempta_.
_Posthac è longe Peregrinantes venient_,
_Et ad Tumulum tuum Oblationes tribuent_,
_O Magne Princeps foris verende_, _et domi venerate!_
_Jovis Ales, qui dudum Solem tentare ausus est_,
_Et in mollibus Germanorum lusit vexillis_,
_Nunc alas demittit_, _et caput declinat_, 140
_Nunc repetit Victorias a Te potitas_,
_Et sero nimis tuum implorat auxilium_.
_Orbis Christianus deplorat Damnum_,
_Dum truculentus Mahomet Turbinis instar volat_
_Et impotenter bacchatur in male-sustentatam Crucem_.
_Sanguine et ruinâ volutans Europa jacet_.
_Tu in tranquillâ et plenâ senectute_
_Semotus a tumultuoso Mundi Theatro_
_Rabiosâ eius insaniâ intactus dormis_,
_Famae securus et ab omni obtrectatione liber_. 150
_Qui ampliorem attineret felicitatem_,
_Vel usque ad Coelos ocyus volaret_,
_Oportet esse plusquam Mortalem_,
_Nec unquam prorsus dignari mori_.

[_Poema in Obitum, &c._] Heading: 'Vide sis' = _vide, si
vis._]

[_Emanuel, &c._] Pepys read his 'new _Emanuel Thesaurus_
[_Tesaufro_] _Patriarchae_' on Jan. 23, 1660/1. It was a
genealogy of Christ and a very popular book.]

[Line: 22 _delineari_] _deliniri_ in the text. 'Fidelitati'
in l. 95 should be the ablative. In 63 'teneribus manibus' was
probably a printer's blunder, but the author must be credited
with such erroneous forms as 'sentivit' and 'lugisset'.]

_On the much lamented Death of our late Sovereign Lord King Charles II. of Blessed Memory._

A PINDARIC ODE.

_Stanza_ I.

Alas! Why are we tempted to complain,
That Heav'n is deaf to all our cries!
Regardless of poor mortals' miseries!
And all our fervent pray'rs devoutly vain!
Tis hard to think th' immortal Powers attend
Human affairs, who ravish from our sight
The Man, on whom such blessings did depend,
Heav'n's and mankind's delight!
The Man! O that opprobrious word, _The Man!_
Whose measure of duration's but a span, 10
Some other name at Babel should have been contriv'd
(By all the vulgar World t' have been receiv'd),
A word as near as could be to Divinity,
Appropriate to Crown'd Heads, who never ought to die;
Some signal word that should imply
All but the scandal of mortality.
'Tis fit, we little lumps of crawling Earth,
Deriv'd from a plebeian birth,
Such as our frail forefathers were,
Should to our primitive dust repair; 20
But Princes (like the wondrous Enoch) should be free
From Death's unbounded tyranny,
And when their godlike race is run,
And nothing glorious left undone,
Never submit to Fate, but only disappear.

II.

But, since th' eternal Law will have it so,
That Monarchs prove at last but finer clay,
What can their humble vassals do?
What reverence, what devotion can we pay,
When these, our earthly Gods, are snatch'd away? 30
Yes, we can mourn, Yes, we can beat our breast,
Yes, we can call to mind those happy days
Of pleasure, and of rest,
When CHARLES the Merciful did reign,
That Golden Age, when void of cares,
All the long summer's day,
We atoms in his beams might sport and play:
Yes, we can teach our children to bewail
His fatal loss, when we shall fail,
And make babes learn in after days 40
The pretty way of stammering out his praise,
His merited praise, which shall in every age
With all advantage flame
In spite of furies or infernal rage,
And imp the wings, and stretch the lungs of Fame.

III.

Excellent Prince, whom every mouth did bless,
And every bended knee adore,
On whom we gaz'd with ecstasy of joy
(A vision which did satisfy, but never cloy)
From whom we dated all our happiness, 50
And from above could ask no more,
Our gladsome cup was fill'd till it ran o'er.
Our land (like Eden) flourish'd in his time,
Defended by an Angel's Sword,
A terror 'twas to those abroad,
But all was Paradise to those within:
Nor could th' Old Serpent's stratagem
Ever supplant his well-watch'd diadem.
Excellent Prince, of whom we once did say
With a triumphant noise, 60
In one united voice,
On that stupendious day,
_Long live, Long live the King!_
And songs of IO PAEAN sing,
How shall we bear this tragical surprise,
Now we must change _Long live_, for _Here he lies_?

IV.

Have you forgot? (but who can him forget?)
You watchful Spirits that preside
O'er sublunary things,
Who, when you look beneath, do oft deride, 70
Not without cause, some other petty Kings;
Have you forgot the greatness of his mind,
The bravery of his elevated soul,
(But he had still a Goshen there)
When darkest cares around his Royal heart did wind,
As waves about a steady rock do roll:
With what disdain he view'd
The fury of the giddy multitude,
And bare the Cross, with more than manly fortitude,
As he had learn'd in sacred lore, 80
His mighty Master had done long before?
And you must ever own
(Or else you very little know
Of what we think below)
That when the hurricanes of th' State were o'er,
When in his noontide blaze he did appear,
His gentle awful brow
Added fresh lustre to th' Imperial Crown,
By birthright, and by virtue, more than once his own.

V.

He was! but what he was, how great, how good, 90
How just, how he delighted not in blood,
How full of pity, and how strangely kind,
How hazardously constant to his friend,
In Peace how glorious, and in War how brave,
Above the charms of life, and terrors of the grave--
When late posterity shall tell:
What he has done shall to a volume swell,
And every line abound with miracle
In that prodigious Chronicle.
Forgive, unbodied Sovereign, forgive, 100
And from your shining mansion cast an eye
To pity our officious blasphemy,
When we have said the best we can conceive.
Here stop, presumptuous Muse! thy daring flight,
Here hide thy baffled head in shades of night,
Thou too obscure, thy dazzling theme too bright,
For what thou shouldst have said, with grief struck dumb,
Will more emphatically be supplied
By the joint groans of melancholy Christendom.

[_On the Death of King Charles II._] First printed in folio in
1685.]

[Line: 25 Browning somewhere in a letter laughs at this line,
in the form 'Kings do not die, they only disappear', which
is neither Flatman's nor Waller's, from whom he borrowed the
notion, nor Oldham's, who has it likewise, though both these
have the 'disappear'. The thought is not foolish: it means,
'their names and works live after them'. But Browning's
knowledge of Flatman, as of other out-of-the-ways, is
interesting. He might have made him a 'Person of Importance'.]

_To His Sacred Majesty King James II._

Dread Prince! whom all the world admires and fears,
By Heav'n design'd to wipe away our tears,
To heal our wounds, and drooping spirits raise,
And to revive our former halcyon days,
Permit us to assure ourselves, that you
Your happy brother's fortune will pursue,
For what great thing is that you dare not do?
Whose long known, unexampled gallantry
So oft has shaken th' Earth, and curb'd the haughty Sea.
And may those Stars, that ever o'er you shone, 10
Double their influence on your peaceful throne.
May you in honourable deeds outshine
The brightest heroes of your Royal line,
That when your enemies shall the sceptre see
Grasp'd in a hand enur'd to victory,
The rebels may like Lucifer fall down,
Or fly like phantoms from the rising Sun.

_Extremum Hunc Arethusa mihi concede Laborem._

Virgil.

ODES OF HORACE

PARAPHRASED BY THOMAS FLATMAN.