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A short Hymn upon the Birth of Prince Charles.
YOu that on Stars do look,
Arrest not there your sight,
Though Natures fairest Book,
And signed vvith propitious light;
Our Blessing novv is more Divine,
Then Planets that at Noon did shine.
To thee alone be praise,
From vvhom our Joy descends,
Thou Chearer of our Days,
Of Causes first, and last of Ends:
To thee this May vve sing, by vvhom
Our Roses from the Lilies bloom.
Upon this Royal Flower,
Sprung from the chastest Bed,
Thy glorious sweetness shower,
And first let Myrtles Crown his Head;
Then Palms and Lawrels wreath'd between;
But let the Cypress late be seen.
And so succeeding men,
VVhen they the fulness see
Of this our Joy, shall then
In consort joyn as vvell as vve,
To celebrate his Praise above,
That spreads our Land vvith fruits of Love.
H. WOTTON.