A poem on St. James's Park as lately improved by His Majesty. Written by Edmund Waller, Esq; Waller, Edmund, 1606-1687. 1661 Approx. 13 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 8 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2008-09 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A97029 Wing W508 Thomason E1080_55 99862682 99862682 114852 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A97029) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 114852) Images scanned from microfilm: (Thomason Tracts ; 161:E1080[25]) A poem on St. James's Park as lately improved by His Majesty. Written by Edmund Waller, Esq; Waller, Edmund, 1606-1687. 15 p. printed [by Thomas Ratcliffe and Edward Mottershead] for Gabriel Bedel and Thomas Collins at the Middle-Temple-Gate, London : 1661. In verse. Printers' names from Pforzheimer catalogue. An earlier, unauthorized edition was published with title "On the park at St. Jamese's" (Wing W504). Separate poem begins p. 11 with caption title "Of our late war with Spaine..." Reproduction of the original in the British Library. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. 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St. James's Park (London, England) -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800. 2007-02 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2007-02 Aptara Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2007-03 Mona Logarbo Sampled and proofread 2007-03 Mona Logarbo Text and markup reviewed and edited 2008-02 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion A POEM ON St. James's PARK As lately improved by his MAIESTY . Written by EDMUND WALLER , Esq Tudor rose LONDON , Printed for Gabriel Bedel and Thomas Collins at the Middle-Temple-Gate . 1661. ON St. James's PARK As lately improved by his MAIESTY . OF the first Paradise there 's nothing found , Plants set by heav'n are vanisht , & the ground ; Yet the description lasts , who knows the fate Of lines that shall this Paradise relate ? Instead of Rivers rolling by the side Of Edens garden , here flowes in the tyde ; The Sea which alwayes serv'd his Empire , now Pays tribute to our Prince's pleasure too . Of famous Cities we the founders know : But Rivers , old as Seas , to which they go , Are natures bounty ; 't is of more renown To make a River then to build a Town . For future shade young Trees upon the banks Of the new stream appear in even ranks : The voice of Orpheus or Amphions hand In better order could not make them stand . May they increase as fast , and spread their boughs , As the high fame of their great Owner growes ! May he live long enough to see them all Dark shadows cast , and as his Palace tall . Me thinks I see the love that shall be made , The Lovers walking in that Amorous shade , The Gallants dancing by the Rivers side , They bath in Summer , and in Winter slide . Methinks I hear the Musick in the boats , And the loud Eccho which returnes the notes , Whilst over head a flock of new sprung fowle Hangs in the aire , and does the Sun controle : Darkning the aire they hover or'e , and shrowd The wanton Saylors with a feather'd cloud . The Ladies angling in the Cristal lake , Feast on the water with the prey they take . A thousand Cupids on the billows ride , And Sea-nimphs enter with the swelling tyde : From Thetis sent as spies to make report , And tell the wonders of her Soveraign's Court. All that can living feed the greedy eye , Or dead the Pallat here you may descry , The choicest things that furnisht Noahs Ark , Or Peters sheet , inhabiting this Park : All with a border of rich fruit-trees crown'd , Whose loaded branches hide the lofty mound . Such various wayes the spacious Alleys lead , My doubtful Muse knows not what path to tread . Yonder the harvest of cold months laid up , Gives a fresh coolnesse to the Royal Cup ; There Ice like Christal , firm and never lost , Tempers hot July with Decembers frost , Winters dark prison ; whence he cannot flie , Though the warm Spring , his enemy grows nigh : Strange ! that extreames should thus preserve the snow , High on the Alpes , and in deep Caves below . Here a well-polisht Mall gives us the joy To see our Prince his matchless force imploy ; His manly posture and his graceful mine Vigor and youth in all his motion seen , His shape so comely and his limbs so strong Confirm our hopes we shall obey him long . No sooner has he toucht the flying ball , But 't is already more then half the mall , And such a fury from his arm has got As from a smoaking Culverin 't were shot : May that ill fate my enemies befall To stand before his anger or his ball . Near this my muse , what most delights her sees ▪ A living Gallery of aged Trees ; Bold sons of earth that thrust their armes so high As if once more they would invade the sky . In such green Palaces the first Kings reign'd , Slept in their shades , and Angels entertain'd : With such old Counsellors they did advise And by frequenting sacred Groves grew wise ; Free from th' impediments of light and noise Man thus retir'd his nobler thoughts imploys ▪ Here CHARLES contrives the ordering of his States , Here he resolves his Neighb'ring Princes Fates : What Nation shall have Peace , where War be made , Determin'd is in this oraculous shade : The world , from India to the frozen North , Concern'd in what this solitude brings forth . His Fancy objects from his view receives , The prospect thought and Contemplation gives : That seat of Empire here salutes his eye , To which three Kingdoms do themselves apply . The structure by a Prelate rais'd , White-Hall , Built with the fortune of Romes Capitol ; Both disproportion'd to the present States Of their proud founders , were approv'd by Fates . From hence he does that Antique Pile behold , Where Royal heads receive the sacred gold ; It gives them Crowns , and does their ashes keep ; There made like gods , like mortals there they sleep : When others fell , this standing did presage , The Crown should triumph over popular rage : Hard by that House where all ours ills were shap't ; Th' Auspicious Temple stood , and yet escap'd . So snow on Aetna does unmelted lie , Whence rolling flames and scatter'd cinders flie ; The distant Countrey in the ruine shares , What falls from heav'n the burning mountain spares . Next that capacious Hall , he sees the room , Where the whole Nation does for Justice come : Under whose large roofe flourishes the Gown , And Judges grave on high Tribunals frown . Here he does like the peoples Pastor goe , His flock subjected to his view below : On which reflecting in his mighty mind , No private passion does indulgence finde ; The pleasures of his youth suspended are , And make a sacrifice to publick care . Here free from Court compliances He walks , And with himself , his best adviser , talks ; How peaceful Olive may his Temples shade , For mending Laws , and for restoring trade : Or how his Brows may be with Laurel charg'd . For Nations conquer'd , and our bounds inlarg'd : Of ancient Prudence here He meditates , Of rising Kingdoms and of falling States : What Ruling Arts gave great Augustus fame , And how Alcides purchas'd such a name : His eyes upon his native Palace bent Close by , suggest a greater argument , His thoughts rise higher when he does reflect , On what the world may from that Star expect Which at his Birth appear'd to let us see Day for his sake could with the night agree ; A Prince on whom such different lights did smile , Born the divided World to reconcile : What ever Heaven or high extracted blood , Could promise or foretell , he will make good : Reform these Nations , and improve them more , Then this fair Park from what it was before . Of our late WAR with SPAINE And first VICTORY at Sea near St. LUGAR . NOw for some ages had the Pride of Spain Made the Sun shine on half the world in vain , Whilst she bid War to all that durst supply The place of those her cruelty made die : Of Natures bounty men forbore to taste , And the best portion of the Earth lay wast . From the new world her silver and her gold , Came like a tempest to confound the old ; With these accomplishing her vast designs , Europe was shaken with her Indian mines . When Brittain looking with a just disdain , Upon this guilded Majesty of Spain , And knowing well that Empire must decline , Whose chief support and sinews are of coin , Her native force and virtue did oppose To the rich troublers of the worlds repose . And now some months encamping on the main , Our naval Army had besieged Spain , They that the whole worlds Monarchy design'd Are to their ports by our bold fleet confin'd , Frown whence our Red-crosse they triumphant see , Riding without a rival on the Sea : Others may use the Ocean as their road ; Onely the English make it their abode : Our Oaks secure as if they there took root ; We tread on billows with a steady foot . Mean while the Spaniards in America , Near to the line the Sun approaching saw : And hop'd their European Coasts to find Cleard from our ships by the Autumnal wind : Their huge capacious Gallions stuft with plate , The labouring winds drive slowly towards their fate : Before St. Lugar they their Guns discharge To tell their joy or to call forth a Barge : This heard , some ships of ours , though out of view , And swift as Eagles to the quarrey flew : So heedlesse Lambs which for their mothers bleat ▪ Wake hungry Lyons and become their meat . Arriv'd , they soon begin that tragick play , And with their smoaky Cannon banish day ; Night , horrour , slaughter with confusion meets , And in their sable armes imbrace the fleets ; Through yeelding planks the angry bullets flie , And of one wound hundreds together die , Born under different stars one Fate they have , The ship their Coffin , and the Sea their grave . Bold were the men who on the Ocean first Spread their new sayles when shipwrack was the worst ; More danger now from man alone we find Then from the rocks , the billows or the wind ; They that had sayld from near th' Antartique pole , Their treasure safe and all their vessels whole , In sight of their dear countrey ruin'd be , Without the guilt of either rock or Sea ; What they would spare our fiercer Art destroys , Surpassing stormes in terrour and in noise : Once Jove from Ida did both Hosts survey , And when he pleas'd to thunder part the frey ; Heaven here in vain that kind retreat should sound , The louder Canon had the thunder drown'd . Some we made prize , while others burnt and rent With their rich lading to the bottom went , Down sinks at once , so fortune with us sports , The pay of Armies and the pride of Courts : Vain man ! whose rage buries as low that store , As avarice had digg'd for it before ! What earth in her dark bowels could not keep From greedy hands , lies safer in the deep ; Where Thetis kindly does from mortals hide Those seeds of luxury , debate and pride : And now into her lap the richest prize Fell with the noblest of our enemies . The Marquis glad to see the fire destroy Wealth that prevailing foes were to enjoy : Out from his flaming ship his children sent To perish in a milder element : Then laid him by his burning Ladies side , And since he could not save her , with her dy'd ; Spices and Gums about them melting fry , And Phoenix like in that rich nest they die ; Alive in flames of equal love they burn'd , And now together are to ashes turn'd Ashes , more worth then all their funeral cost , Then the huge treasure which was with them lost . The Reader is desired to take notice , that a false Copy of these verses on St. James's Park was surreptitiously and very imperfectly printed in one sheet , without the Authors knowledge and consent , several lines being there left out . FINIS .