Poetical recreations consisting of original poems, songs, odes, &c. with several new translations : in two parts / part I, occasionally written by Mrs. Jane Barker, part II, by several gentlemen of the universities, and others.

An ELEGY on King CHARLES the Second, who dyed of an Apoplexy.

NO more, he's gone, with Angel's Wings he fled, What Mortal Art cou'd keep him from the Dead? The Miracles of Art were shewn in vain, Such as cou'd give a meaner Life again; But Miracles were common in his Reign. A Diet in distress no comfort brings, Thus are we sure to lose the best of Kings.

Great Charles, or lov'd or fear'd too much by Death! Our Bribes cou'd get us but a parting breath. Unusual Fate destroy'd our chief design, And ev'ry Sister cut the Royal Twine; Direfull Solemnities they us'd below, And thrice they gave the irrevocable Blow. Thrice on the Monarch (for each Nation) seize, And to his Empire suited the Disease. So did Geryon take his long farewell, And saw two Heads expire before he fell; So put Alcydes Vict'ry to a stand, And piece-meal fell by an All-conqu'ring hand.

Say, envious Stars, did he deserve your spight; Say, all ye grand Caballers of the Night, Did you remember with regret the Day, When his new Star drove all your Beams away, When the glad Sky did wond'rous smiles dispence, Fear'd you to lose your ancient Influence?

The same good Omen gave our Charles his Birth, As usher'd in Salvation to the Earth.

Under one Planet grisly Death was slain, But the same bad him live, and slay again. O ye, just Pow'rs! That Death (by Faith o'er-come) Shou'd lead the Faith's Defender to his Tomb.

Britains lament, inspir'd by sorrow, sing, Embalm with Tears and Verse your Gracious King; Where-ever Death can come, let it be said, In mournfull Elegies, our Gracious King is Dead. A Soul so large, so generous a Mind, As Heav'n all knowing, and as Heav'n all kind. Let the sad News be born through ev'ry Sea, And the Winds groan whilst they the News convey. Our Peacefull Ships will need no Cannon roar, And with the Tidings terrifie the Shoar.

What Grief in Neighb'ring States shall not be known, Now the soft link of Amity is gone? Love has the Nat'ral World to Peace confin'd, But the Political by Charles was joyn'd. What Grief shall not the Foreign Reg••ons shew? For they have lost their Ioy, and ••onder too. Libyans shall slash their Bre••••••s, and so ••eclare Their outward Grief to Ch••rl•••• 〈…〉〈…〉 there.

One, o'er her Gold, corroding Drops shall shed, The other Ind. weep Gems for Iames's head; No Quarter but shall Sighs and Blessings send, And to a thousand Gods our King shall recommend.

Pardon, Great Ghost, your sinfull People spare, And be our Genius with your Princely care. Smiling, the Story of your Troubles tell, And pity the mean Souls who cou'd Rebell. With joy recount the Changes you have known, And all the shapes attend the British Crown. How faithless, as incircling Waves, were We; How you became the Proteus of our Sea: How on the Wing you'd now deceive the Foe, Then vanish't into Air unseen you'd go: How like a stately Oak you'd sometimes Reign, And with long Scepters awe the shrubby Plain.

Such were the forms, Alive, you us'd to have, Immutable and stiff now in the Grave; Variously prest, and molded up and down, You were reserv'd for an Eternal Crown.