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ACT V.
SCENE I.
The King rises from a Couch.
FRom Amber shrouds I see the morning rise
Her Rosy hand begins to paint the Skies;
And now the City Emets leave their Hive,
And rouzing Hinds to chearful labour drive;
High Cliffs, and Rocks are pleasing objects now,
And Nature smiles upon the Mountains brow;
The Joyful Birds falute the Sun's approach;
The Sun too laughs, and mounts his gaudy Coach,
While from his Car the dropping Gems distil,
And all the Earth, and all the Heaven does smile:
But Charles, still wrapt in Shades, like Night appears,
His sighs the Vapors, and the Dews his Tears.
Yet, O Just Power, with pity, O behold
The wretch, whose fault is in your Book inroll'd:
Behold these streams, with which his Soul aspires
To slake your wrath, and quench your angry fires.
Enter Genius.
Gen.
Thy Genius, lo, from his sweet Bed of rest,
Adorn'd with Jassamin, and with Roses drest,
The Pow'r Divine has rais'd to stop thy Fate;
A true Repentance never comes too late:
So soon as born, she made her self a Shroud,
The weeping Mantle of a Fleecy Cloud,
And swift as thought, her Airy Journy took,
Her hand Heav'ns Azure Gate with trembling strook;
The Stars did with amazement on her look;
She told thy Story in so sad a Tone,
The Angels start from Bliss, and gave a groan.
But Charles beware, oh dally not with Heav'n,
For after this no Pardon shall be giv'n.
[Exit.