







 
   
     
       
         A panegyrique humbly addrest to the Kings Most Excellent Majesty on his auspicious meeting his two houses of Parliament, February the 4th, 5th 1672/3 : and his most gratious speech there delivered on that occasion / by R.W.
         Wild, Robert, 1609-1679.
      
       
         
           1673
        
      
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             A panegyrique humbly addrest to the Kings Most Excellent Majesty on his auspicious meeting his two houses of Parliament, February the 4th, 5th 1672/3 : and his most gratious speech there delivered on that occasion / by R.W.
             Wild, Robert, 1609-1679.
          
           [2], 6 p.
           
             Printed by A.P. for Phillip Brooksby ...,
             London :
             1673.
          
           
             Attributed to Robert Wild. Cf. BM.
             Reproduction of original in Huntington Library.
          
        
      
    
     
       
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           Charles -- II, -- King of England, 1630-1685 -- Poetry.
           England and Wales. -- Parliament.
        
      
    
     
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           A
           PANEGYRIQUE
           Humbly
           Addrest
           to
           the
           Kings
           Most
           Excellent
           Majesty
           :
           ON
           His
           Auspicious
           Meeting
           His
           Two
           Houses
           OF
           PARLIAMENT
           ,
           February
           the
           4
           th
           .
           5
           th
           .
           1672
           /
           3.
           
           And
           His
           Most
           Gratious
           SPEECH
           There
           Delivered
           on
           that
           Occasion
           .
        
         
           By
           
             R.
             W.
          
           
        
         
           
             HONI
             SOIT
             QVI
             MAL
             Y
             PENSE
          
           
             DIEV
             ET
             MON
             DROIT
             .
          
        
         
           London
           ,
           Printed
           by
           
             A.
             P.
          
           for
           
             Phillip
             Brooksby
          
           ,
           next
           Door
           to
           the
           Ball
           in
           West-Smithfield
           ,
           neer
           the
           Hospital-Gate
           .
           1673.
           
        
      
    
     
       
         
         
         
           A
           PANEGYRIQUE
           TO
           His
           Sacred
           Majesty
           OF
           GREAT
           BRITTAIN
           .
        
         
           
             GReat
             SIR
             !
             When
             e'r
             your
             
               Gracious
               Voyce
            
             we
             hear
          
           
             Ravisht
             we
             stand
             ,
             and
             wish
             our selves
             
               all
               Ear
            
             ;
          
           
             Your
             Speech
             ,
             which
             equal
             Ioy
             and
             Wonder
             breeds
             ,
          
           
             Can
             be
             Excell'd
             by
             nothing
             but
             your
             Deeds
             ;
          
           
             Those
             Glorious
             Deeds
             Heaven
             sent
             you
             here
             to
             Act
             ,
          
           
             To
             Scourge
             the
             Insolent
             ,
             and
             Good
             Protect
             ;
          
           
             While
             with
             a
             strong
             ,
             and
             yet
             a
             gentle
             hand
             ,
          
           
             You
             Bridle
             Nations
             ,
             and
             our
             Hearts
             Command
             :
          
           
             Secure
             us
             from
             Our selves
             ,
             and
             from
             the
             Foe
             ,
          
           
             Make
             us
             Vnite
             ,
             and
             make
             us
             Conquer
             too
          
           
             Those
             
               Fiercer
               Factions
            
             which
             Mens
             Souls
             did
             move
             ,
          
           
             Are
             by
             your
             Favour
             Reconcil'd
             in
             Love
             :
          
           
             And
             now
             our
             only
             Strife
             is
             to
             Outvye
          
           
             Each
             other
             in
             the
             Fruits
             of
             Loyalty
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             When
             Fate
             or
             Error
             had
             our
             Age
             misled
             ,
          
           
             And
             o're
             these
             Kingdomes
             black
             Confusion
             spred
             ,
          
           
             The
             only
             Cure
             which
             could
             from
             Heaven
             come
             ,
          
           
             Was
             so
             much
             pow'r
             and
             Clemency
             in
             One
             ;
          
           
             The
             Genius
             of
             our
             Nation
             ,
             with
             disdain
          
           
             Beheld
             those
             Puppets
             which
             Usurp'd
             your
             Raign
             ;
          
           
             But
             long'd
             ,
             (
             with
             their
             
               Strange
               Madnesses
            
             opprest
             ,
             )
          
           
             Upon
             your
             Bosome
             its
             sick
             Head
             to
             rest
             :
          
           
             So
             when
             a
             Lyon
             shakes
             his
             Dreadful
             Mayn
          
           
             And
             angry
             grows
             ,
             let
             Him
             that
             first
             took
             pain
          
           
             To
             tame
             his
             youth
             ,
             Approach
             ,
             the
             Haughty
             Beast
          
           
             Will
             bend
             to
             him
             ,
             but
             fright
             away
             the
             rest
             .
          
        
         
           
             By
             sweet
             ,
             yet
             
               secret
               Politicks
            
             you
             Raign
             ,
          
           
             Which
             
               Forraign
               Statesmen
            
             Pry
             into
             in
             vain
             ;
          
           
             The
             Nations
             Ancient
             Honour
             you
             encrease
             ,
          
           
             And
             Heal
             ,
             as
             well
             with
             
               Needful
               Wars
            
             ,
             as
             Peace
             :
          
           
             Heav'n
             ,
             that
             hath
             plac'd
             this
             Island
             ,
             to
             give
             Law
             ,
          
           
             To
             Ballance
             Europe
             ,
             and
             her
             States
             to
             Aw
             ,
          
           
             In
             this
             Conjuncture
             doth
             on
             Brittain
             smile
             ,
          
           
             The
             
               Greatest
               Soveraign
            
             ,
             and
             the
             
               Greatest
               Isle
            
             :
          
           
             Some
             think
             
               this
               Portion
            
             of
             the
             VVorld
             ,
             was
             Rent
          
           
             By
             the
             rude
             Ocean
             ,
             from
             the
             Continent
             ;
          
           
             But
             whilst
             your
             Forces
             with
             the
             French
             Combine
             ,
          
           
             You
             make
             the
             Lands
             more
             Terribly
             to
             Ioyne
             .
          
        
         
           
             Fame
             swifter
             than
             your
             winged
             Navy
             flies
          
           
             Through
             ev'ry
             Land
             that
             near
             the
             Ocean
             lies
             ,
          
           
             Sounding
             your
             Name
             ,
             and
             telling
             dreadful
             News
          
           
             To
             all
             that
             Pyracy
             and
             Rapine
             use
             ;
          
           
           
             Algiers
             with
             trembling
             Knees
             for
             Peace
             does
             begg
             ,
          
           
             Undone
             by
             'th
             Valour
             of
             your
             Noble
             Spragg
             :
          
           
             And
             
               greater
               Pyrates
            
             too
             ,
             much
             nearer
             home
             ,
          
           
             VVho
             thought
             to
             graspe
             a
             pow'r
             great
             as
             old
             Rome
             ;
          
           
             Striving
             to
             carry
             all
             Commerce
             away
             ,
          
           
             And
             make
             the
             Vniverse
             their
             only
             Prey
             :
          
           
             Are
             now
             forc'd
             to
             Disgorge
             ,
             and
             sadly
             find
          
           
             Nature
             has
             
               You
               ,
               Lord
               of
               the
               Seas
            
             design'd
             .
          
        
         
           
             VVith
             such
             a
             Chief
             ,
             the
             meanest
             Nation
             ,
             blest
             ,
          
           
             Might
             hope
             to
             lift
             her
             Head
             above
             the
             rest
             :
          
           
             VVhat
             may
             be
             thought
             Impossible
             to
             do
          
           
             For
             us
             ,
             embraced
             by
             the
             Sea
             and
             You
             :
          
           
             Lords
             of
             the
             worlds
             
               great
               wast
            
             ,
             the
             Ocean
             ,
             we
          
           
             VVhole
             Forrests
             send
             to
             range
             upon
             the
             Sea
             :
          
           
             And
             ev'ry
             Coast
             may
             trouble
             or
             Relieve
             ,
          
           
             But
             none
             can
             visit
             us
             without
             your
             leave
             .
          
           
             Angels
             and
             we
             have
             this
             Prerogative
          
           
             That
             none
             can
             at
             our
             happy
             Seat
             Arrive
             :
          
           
             Whilst
             we
             discend
             at
             Pleasure
             to
             Invade
          
           
             The
             bad
             with
             vengeance
             ,
             and
             our
             friends
             to
             aid
             :
          
           
             Our
             
               little
               VVorld
            
             ,
             the
             Image
             of
             the
             great
             ,
          
           
             Like
             that
             amidst
             the
             
               boundless
               Ocean
            
             set
             ,
          
           
             Of
             her
             own
             growth
             hath
             all
             that
             Nature
             craves
             ,
          
           
             And
             all
             that
             's
             rare
             ,
             as
             Tribute
             from
             the
             VVaves
             :
          
           
             As
             Aegypt
             does
             not
             on
             the
             Clouds
             rely
             ,
          
           
             But
             to
             her
             Nile
             owes
             more
             than
             to
             the
             sky
             :
          
           
             So
             what
             our
             Earth
             ,
             and
             what
             our
             Heav'n
             denies
             ,
          
           
             Our
             ever
             constant
             Friend
             
               the
               Sea
            
             supplies
             :
          
           
             That
             friend
             whom
             whilst
             base
             Neighbours
             seek
             to
             gain
             ,
          
           
           
             Your
             Thunder
             with
             their
             
               blood
               Purples
            
             the
             Main
             :
          
           
             The
             Tast
             of
             
               hot
               Arabian
               Spice
            
             we
             know
          
           
             Free
             from
             the
             
               scorching
               Sun
            
             that
             makes
             it
             grow
             :
          
           
             Without
             the
             VVorm
             ,
             in
             
               Persian
               Silks
            
             we
             shine
             ,
          
           
             And
             without
             Planting
             ,
             drink
             of
             ev'ry
             Vine
             :
          
           
             To
             Digg
             for
             VVealth
             ,
             we
             weary
             not
             our
             Limbs
             ,
          
           
             Gold
             ,
             though
             the
             heaviest
             Mettal
             ,
             hither
             Swims
             :
          
           
             Ours
             is
             the
             Harvest
             where
             the
             
               Indians
               Mow
            
             ,
          
           
             We
             Plow
             the
             Deep
             ,
             and
             Reap
             what
             others
             Sow
             :
          
           
             Things
             of
             the
             
               Noblest
               kind
            
             our
             own
             Soil
             breeds
             ,
          
           
             Stout
             are
             our
             Men
             ,
             and
             Warlike
             are
             our
             Steeds
             :
          
           
             Rome
             ,
             though
             her
             Eagle
             through
             the
             world
             had
             flown
             ,
          
           
             Could
             never
             make
             this
             
               Island
               all
            
             her
             own
             :
          
           
             Here
             the
             
               Third
               Edward
            
             ,
             and
             the
             
               black
               Prince
            
             too
             ,
          
           
             Victorious
             Henry
             flourisht
             ,
             and
             now
             You
             :
          
           
             For
             whom
             ,
             
               Proud
               Dutch
            
             ,
             (
             reserv'd
             ,
             like
             the
             Greek
             State
             ,
          
           
             Till
             Alexander
             came
             to
             urge
             their
             Fate
             )
          
           
             Must
             make
             
               New
               Trophies
            
             ,
             which
             the
             Couq'ring
             hands
          
           
             Of
             
               Mighty
               York
            
             ,
             or
             (
             who
             in
             's
             sted
             Commands
             )
          
           
             The
             
               Matchless
               Rupert
            
             from
             the
             Sea
             do
             bring
             ,
          
           
             To
             Adorn
             the
             Triumphs
             of
             our
             Glorious
             King
             :
          
           
             Whilst
             most
             
               Heroick
               Montmouth
            
             ,
             to
             add
             more
             ,
          
           
             Transplants
             the
             Laurels
             of
             the
             Belgian
             Shore
             .
          
        
         
           
             Yet
             need
             your
             Foes
             not
             Dread
             (
             if
             they
             'l
             Submit
             )
          
           
             Your
             Power
             ,
             you
             with
             such
             Sweetness
             Temper
             it
             :
          
           
             Prefer'd
             by
             Conquest
             ,
             happily
             o'rethrown
             ,
          
           
             Falling
             they
             'l
             Rise
             ,
             to
             be
             with
             us
             made
             one
          
           
             That
             
               Aiery
               Liberty
            
             ,
             whereof
             they
             Boast
          
           
             Is
             but
             a
             
               Spacious
               Shadow
            
             at
             the
             most
             :
          
           
           
             For
             they
             'l
             find
             on
             
               just
               Account
            
             of
             things
          
           
             No
             Freedom
             ▪
             like
             the
             Rule
             of
             Pious
             Kings
             :
          
           
             So
             kind
             Dictators
             made
             ,
             when
             they
             came
             Home
             ,
          
           
             Their
             
               Vanquisht
               Foes
            
             ,
             Free
             Citizens
             of
             Rome
             ,
          
           
             Less
             Pleasure
             take
             ,
             
               brave
               souls
            
             ,
             in
             Battails
             won
             ,
          
           
             Than
             in
             restoring
             those
             that
             are
             Vndone
             :
          
           
             Tygers
             have
             Courage
             ,
             and
             the
             
               rugged
               Bare
            
             ,
          
           
             But
             Man
             alone
             can
             ,
             whom
             he
             Conquers
             spare
             ;
          
           
             To
             Pardon
             willing
             ,
             and
             to
             Punish
             loth
             ,
          
           
             You
             strike
             with
             one
             Hand
             ,
             but
             you
             Heal
             with
             both
             ;
          
           
             Lifting
             up
             all
             that
             Prostrate
             lye
             ,
             you
             grieve
          
           
             You
             cannot
             make
             the
             Dead
             again
             to
             Live
             :
          
           
             Whilst
             your
             Arms
             make
             
               your
               Stubborn
            
             Foes
             to
             fall
             ,
          
           
             Your
             
               Gracious
               Favours
            
             needs
             must
             Conquer
             all
             .
          
        
         
           
             What
             you
             have
             done
             already
             is
             well
             known
             ,
          
           
             And
             we
             with
             
               humblest
               Gratitude
            
             must
             own
             ;
          
           
             When
             in
             your
             
               Royal
               Robes
            
             ,
             you
             lately
             went
          
           
             To
             meet
             your
             
               Kind
               and
               Dutious
               Parliament
            
             ,
          
           
             (
             That
             
               healing
               Senate
            
             ,
             which
             all
             Storms
             can
             Calme
             ,
          
           
             And
             cure
             the
             Nation
             with
             its
             Acts
             of
             Balme
             :
             )
          
           
             
               Blessings
               and
               Pray'rs
            
             were
             sent
             to
             Heav'n
             aloud
             ,
          
           
             By
             ev'ry
             Member
             of
             the
             Gazeing
             Croud
             :
          
           
             No
             sooner
             that
             
               Illustrious
               body
            
             saw
          
           
             Their
             
               Dearest
               Soveraign
            
             ,
             but
             a
             
               Loveing
               Awe
            
          
           
             Shines
             in
             each
             Face
             ,
             and
             with
             a
             
               greedy
               Ear
            
          
           
             Receives
             those
             Oracles
             he
             utter'd
             there
             :
          
           
             Their
             
               Grateful
               Duties
            
             streight
             the
             Cause
             Espouse
             ,
          
           
             As
             Highly
             Just
             to
             make
             our
             Lyon
             Rouse
             :
          
           
             They
             Thank
             His
             
               Royal
               Cares
            
             so
             much
             has
             done
             ,
          
           
             And
             
               Vote
               supplies
            
             for
             what
             there
             is
             to
             come
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             Ah!
             
               blessed
               fruits
            
             !
             such
             happy
             Vnion
             brings
             ,
          
           
             The
             Loyalst
             Subjects
             with
             the
             best
             of
             Kings
             :
          
           
             Subjects
             that
             to
             maintain
             this
             needful
             Warr
             ,
          
           
             Freely
             will
             part
             with
             what
             he
             fain
             would
             spare
             :
          
           
             Their
             
               publique
               Purse
            
             they
             offer
             —
             
               Let
               all
               go
            
             ,
          
           
             Rather
             then
             Truckle
             to
             'th
             encroaching
             Foe
             :
          
           
             When
             our
             
               Kings
               Honour
            
             ,
             and
             our
             
               Countries
               good
            
          
           
             Is
             touch'd
             ,
             we
             value
             neither
             Coyn
             nor
             Blood
             :
          
           
             Cursed
             be
             he
             ,
             those
             
               Sacred
               bonds
            
             that
             parts
             ,
          
           
             "
             Kings
             greatest
             Treasures
             ,
             are
             their
             Subjects
             Hearts
             :
          
           
             And
             there
             your
             Majesty
             hath
             such
             a
             share
             ,
          
           
             No
             
               Earthly
               Monarch
            
             may
             with
             you
             Compare
             .
          
        
         
           
             But
             our
             
               Weak
               Muse
            
             begs
             Pardon
             ,
             that
             she
             dare
          
           
             I'
             th
             Face
             of
             
               Dazling
               Majesty
            
             appear
             :
          
           
             She
             only
             ment
             ,
             her
             
               own
               full
               Ioys
            
             to
             sing
             ,
          
           
             Succeeding
             Times
             ,
             shall
             Bays
             and
             Olive
             bring
          
           
             To
             Crown
             your
             head
             ,
             whilst
             you
             in
             Triumph
             Ride
          
           
             O're
             Vanquisht
             Nations
             ,
             and
             the
             Sea
             beside
             :
          
           
             Whilst
             all
             the
             
               Neighbouring
               States
            
             shall
             unto
             You
             ,
          
           
             Like
             Iosephs
             Sheaves
             ,
             pay
             Reverence
             ,
             and
             Bowe
             .
          
        
         
           
             ITER
             BOREALE
             .
          
        
         
           FINIS
           .
        
         
      
    
     
  

