---

Oh for an Ovid1 or a Homer2 now

Whose sweet immortalizinge pen knowes how

To give such life by that there excellence

To this dayes joy that many ages hence

Decreped Grandsires by their workes divine

5

May warme there blood by readinge but a line

And greiv’d they liv’d not in that blessed houre

When heaven rain’d soe much joy to have the power

To make times rusty chimes to backward runne

Untwistinge soe the thred the Fates had spunne

10

And children curse slow natures longe delay

That had not them producte to see this day

Is Spencer3 dead & Daniel4 gone, oh then

This morninges glories lost: theres not a pen

Can point on shaddow much lesse lustre give

15

To that daies fame that might for ever live

Now doe I wish I had the power to charme

All Poetts now a sleepe theise doe but harme

All writers now have soe farr wrackt their braines

With cloven-footed rough Satyrick straines

20

That everie thinge seemes monstrous they produce

Libellous rimes are onlie now in use

The soule of poetrie alas is fledd,

For Homer Ovid Spenser Daniells dead

And Charles & George5 that have outstript all story

25

Must want a pen t’imortalize their glory

The thunder mockinge Cannons lowde do hollow

And fame woulde force from harme the great Apollo6

As if the subject did require the pen

Rather of gods then anie mortall men

30

The acclamations of the people peirce

The roofe of heaven & thence would draw a verse

Great Sydneis7 soule I thinke they woulde invite

On this unsampled theame some lines to write

That in record of everlastinge fame

35

Men still might read great Charles & Georges name

And by the vertue of his Muses fire

Draw after times their actions to admire:

That when there ashes rested in there urne

Yett men might read of joy for there returne

40

Which is soe farr beyond all mens expression

As none attempt itt may without transgression

Noe pen, noe tongue, noe excellence of art

Can speake the rapture of each good mans heart

Children uncapable to each mans thinkinge

45

Were drunke with joy as others were a drinkinge

Matrons & Virgins who untill that morninge

Nere lookt on wine but with a modest scorninge

Did drinke & blush & blush & drinke againe

For joy prince Charles was safe return’d from Spaine

50

Cripples lett fall there crutches, sick & lame

Forgott there paine when they but heard his name

The blind man now lamentinge lowdlie cries

He never greiv’d soe much his losse of eies

Infants scarce taught to goe were seene to run

55

To see prince Charles great Britaines only son

The dumbe man now his want of speech bemoanes

Ventinge his joyes in sighes, in teares, in groanes

They sigh & groane for greife they cannot speake

Emptyinge there heartes by teares that els would breake

60

The Country clowne as he past on the waie

Aid8 force from night an artificiall day

The Citizens to shew there deere affection

Did strive to bringe time under there subjection

And kept back night by stratagems & force

65

Five howers longer then her common course

The eveninge now att midnight did beginne

The starrs lookt out & blusht & soe shutt in

Heaven wept for joy the useless sun retirde

Fearinge his cheekes should by our flames9 be fir’d

70

Aurora10 rose survaide from East to West

Saw day without her & went back to rest

Yea Jove11 himselfe did call the gods about him

Fearinge the worlde had fir’d himselfe without him

And whether this the last day were or noe

75

Swift Mercury12 is sent in hast to know

The sullen fates13 that never till that day

Were merry knowne to be he found att play

And on there brass-leav’d bookes14 castinge his eye

Hee saw it written for eternitie

80

A day of rest & sport, & lett it stande

For ever in the Calends of this land

And lett the fift of October15 be found

Like August fift wth a redd letter crown’d16

For never soe much good as this before

85

Unshipt itt selfe upon the Brittish shore

Our weepinge summer was no sooner gone

But Charles a gratious after spring brings home

Speake mightie prince found you not mens lookes

As are indeed the Common peoples bookes

90

Where those of understandinge read & find

Where17 very soules, there thoughts there hearts there minds

Have you not such a welcome written there

As noe tongue can deliver to your eare

Have you not th’heraulds of each Brittans hart

95

Mantled in deepest scarlett dy ready to start

Out of each blushinge cheeke, each sparklinge eye

Proclaiminge there (without base flattery)

There speechlesse blisse there loves sinceritie

There soules gladnesse there heartes alacritie

100

Countinge nothinge more happy then t’expresse

To you there joy, to heaven there thankefullnes

O lett the memory of itt ever rest

Within the Cabinett of your princely breast

And lett itt bringe forth fruite when you are old

105

So shall you reape from us a thousand fould

Each graine of love cast on our humble ground

Shall with a glorious harvest still be crown’d

Winter shall loose its powers, noe mill-dew blast itt

Time may sinke with itt Sir, but not out last itt

110

What need your highness seek for love far hence

Or fetch itt home with hazzard or expence

Husband but what you have great Sir then know

Emperours & Kinges the worlds Monarkes shall throw

There sisters daughters neeces on our shoare

115

And gaininge your alliance aske noe more

Beautie & blood & wealth & birth shall stand

The humble vassals of your great command

England Scotland, Ireland joynd together

What dares she call her name they’le not fetch hither

120

Leave us not then in everlasting night

By such your absence Sir, by such your flight

Day without sunn may better govern’d be

Then England Scotland Ireland wantinge thee

And thou great Buckingham fortunes best child

125

On whom both heaven & earth & seas have smil’d

Live long in that high sphere wherein you move

In Gods, the Kinges, the Princes peoples love

Detraction now repeales what she hath spoken

Envy hath drunke her last is swolne & broken

130

And mightie prince whiles others offer gold

Some mirrhe, some frankinsence, some from the fold

Bring goats & kidds, some oxen from the stall

They offer but in part, I offer all

Some billetts brought some faggotts to the fire

135

I bringe a zealous heart whose flames aspires

As high as did the greatest piles of wood

And what they spent in wine Ile spend in blood

All that they did was but to speake there love

Upon the selfe same warrant comes this dove

140

From forth the arke then of your grace & favour

Vouchsafe to looke, putt forth your hand and save her

She bringes but 2 bare leaves of olive now

But att next flight great Sir expect a bow.

---

Source. Rosenbach MS 239/27, pp. 6-10

Nv16

Quick links to other poems within this section

Select page here < N0. Introduction Ni1 You men of Britaine Ni2 A Prince out of Ni3 A Prince out of the North Ni4 If 88 be past then Nii1Some say Sir Edward Nii2 Whiles thy sonnes rash Nii3 The famous Embassador Nii4 The Belgick Frogge Nii5 When we but heare Nii6 Religion the most sacred Niii1 Why? what meanes this? Niii2 Adew deere Don Niii3 Anagram on Count Niv1 If Saints in heaven Niv2 Your bold Petition Mortalls Nv1 What suddayne change Nv2 From Englands happy Nv3 I’ve read of Ilands flotinge Nv4 False on his Deanrye? Nv5 Tell mee for gods sake Nv6 The day was turnd Nv7A Phillipp once to england Nv8 The starre that rose Nv9 Since Arthure, or his Nv10 Ilium deplores, but still Nv11Our eagle is yett flowne Nv12 Poor silly wight that Nv13 Our Prince whom we Nv14 The Prince of Wales Nv15 All the newes thats Nv16 Oh for an Ovid Nv17 The Prince is now Nv18 The fift of August Nvi1O stay your teares yow Nvi2 Contemne not Gracious Nvi3 Withold thy fiery steeds

¹   Ovid: Roman poet. <back>

²   Homer: ancient Greek epic poet. <back>

³   Spencer: Edmund Spenser, English epic poet (d.1599). <back>

⁴   Daniel: English poet Samuel Daniel (d.1619). <back>

⁵   Charles & George: Prince Charles and George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, whose return from Spain is the occasion of the poem. <back>

⁶   Apollo: sun god and god of the muses. <back>

⁷   Sydneis: Sir Philip Sidney (d.1586), Elizabethan poet and writer. <back>

⁸   Aid: probable scribal error; read “Did”. <back>

⁹   our flames: bonfires were lit to celebrate Charles’s return. <back>

¹⁰   Aurora: goddess of dawn. <back>

¹¹   Jove: king of the gods. <back>

¹²   Mercury: messenger of the gods. <back>

¹³   fates: the three fates, Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos. <back>

¹⁴   bookes: i.e. the books of fates. <back>

¹⁵   fift of October: Charles and Buckingham arrived in England on 5 October 1623. <back>

¹⁶   August fift...crown’d: bells were rung on 5 August to commemorate the anniversary of King James’s deliverance from the Gowrie conspiracy in Scotland. “Red letter” days were holidays marked with red ink in the prayer book. <back>

¹⁷   Where: probable scribal error; read “There” (i.e. “Their”). <back>