Classic Poem

We are a people now againe, and may
Style our selues Subjects: your prolong'd delay
Had almost made our jealousie engrosse
New feares, and rayse your absence into losse.
'Tis true the Kingdomes manners and the Lawe
Retain'd their wonted vigour; the same awe
And loue still kept us loyall: but 'twas so
As Clocks once set in motion doe yet goe,
The hand being absent; or as when the Quill
Ceaseth to strike, the string yet trembles still.
O count our sighs and feares! there shall not be
Againe such absence, though sure victorie
Would waite on every step, and would repay
A severall conquest for each severall day.
We doe not crowne your welcome with a Name
Coy'nd from the Iourney, nor shall soothing fame
Call't an adventure: Heretofore when rude
And haughty Power was knowne by solitude,
When all that Subjects felt of Majesty
Was the oppressing yoke, and tyranny;
Then it had pass'd for valour, and had beene
Thought Prowesse to haue dar'd to haue beene seen;
And the approaching to a neighbour Region
No Progresse, but an Expedition.
But her's no cause of a Triumphall dance,
'Tis a Returne, not a Deliverance:
Your pious Raign secur'd your Throne, your Life
Was guard unto your Scepter: no rude strife,
No violence there disturb'd the Pompe, unlesse
Their eager Loue, and Loyalty did presse
To see and know, whiles lawfull Majesty
Spread forth its Presence, and its Piety.
So hath the God, that lay hid in the voyce
Of his directing Oracle, made choyce
To come in Person, and untouch't hath crown'd
The Supplicant with his Glory, not his sound.
Whiles that this Pompe was moving, whiles a fire
Shot out from you, did but provoke desire,
Not satisfie, how in loyalty did they
Wish an eternall Solstice, or a day
That might make Nature stand, striving to bring
Ev'n by Her wrong, more homage to the King!
But may'st Thou dwell with us, Iust C HARLES , and show
A Beame sometimes to Them: so shall we owe
To constant light, They to Posteritie
Shall boast of this, that they were seene by Thee.