Your heavenly parentage and earthly too;
  By that same mildness, which your father’s crown
  Before did ravish, shall secure your own. 
  Not tied to rules of policy, you find 260
  Revenge less sweet than a forgiving mind. 
  Thus, when the Almighty would to Moses give
  A sight of all he could behold and live;
  A voice before his entry did proclaim
  Long-suffering, goodness, mercy, in his name. 
  Your power to justice doth submit your cause,
  Your goodness only is above the laws;
  Whose rigid letter, while pronounced by you,
  Is softer made.  So winds that tempests brew,
  When through Arabian groves they take their flight, 270
  Made wanton with rich odours, lose their spite. 
  And as those lees, that trouble it, refine
  The agitated soul of generous wine;
  So tears of joy, for your returning spilt,
  Work out, and expiate our former guilt. 
  Methinks I see those crowds on Dover’s strand,
  Who, in their haste to welcome you to land,
  Choked up the beach with their still growing store,
  And made a wilder torrent on the shore: 
  While, spurr’d with eager thoughts of past delight, 280
  Those, who had seen you, court a second sight;
  Preventing still your steps, and making haste
  To meet you often wheresoe’er you past. 
  How shall I speak of that triumphant day,
  When you renew’d the expiring pomp of May![28]
  (A month that owns an interest in your name: 
  You and the flowers are its peculiar claim.)
  That star[29] that at your birth shone out so bright,
  It stain’d the duller sun’s meridian light,
  Did once again its potent fires renew, 290
  Guiding our eyes to find and worship you.

   And now Time’s whiter series is begun,
  Which in soft centuries shall smoothly run: 
  Those clouds, that overcast your morn, shall fly,
  Dispell’d to farthest corners of the sky. 
  Our nation with united interest blest,
  Not now content to poise, shall sway the rest. 
  Abroad your empire shall no limits know,
  But, like the sea, in boundless circles flow. 
  Your much-loved fleet shall, with a wide command, 300
  Besiege the petty monarchs of the land: 
  And as old Time his offspring swallow’d down,
  Our ocean in its depths all seas shall drown. 
  Their wealthy trade from pirates’ rapine free,
  Our merchants shall no more adventurers be: 
  Nor in the farthest East those dangers fear,
  Which humble Holland must dissemble here. 
  Spain to your gift alone her Indies owes;
  For what the powerful takes not, he bestows: 
  And France, that did an exile’s presence fear, 310
  May justly apprehend you still too near.