: these lines refer to the ceremonies used
by such heathens as escaped from shipwreck. _Alga marina_, or sea-weed,
was strewed about the altar, and a lamb sacrificed to the winds.]

[Footnote 22: 'Portumnus:' Palaemon, or Melicerta, god of shipwrecked
mariners.]

[Footnote 23: 'Booth's:' Sir George Booth, an unsuccessful and premature
warrior on the Royal side in 1659.]

[Footnote 24: 'Fougue:' a French word used for the fire and spirit of a
horse.]

[Footnote 25: 'Schevelin:' a village about a mile from the Hague, at
which Charles II. embarked for England.]

[Footnote 26: 'Naseby:' the ship in which Charles II. returned from
exile.]

[Footnote 27: 'Great Gloster:' Henry, Duke of Gloucester, third son of
Charles I., landed at Dover with his brother in 1660, and died of the
smallpox soon afterwards.]

[Footnote 28: Charles entered London on the 29th of May.]

[Footnote 29: 'Star:' said to have shone on the day of Charles' birth,
and outshone the sun.]

* * * * *

TO HIS SACRED MAJESTY.

A PANEGYRIC ON HIS CORONATION.

In that wild deluge where the world was drown'd,
When life and sin one common tomb had found,
The first small prospect of a rising hill
With various notes of joy the ark did fill:
Yet when that flood in its own depths was drown'd,
It left behind it false and slippery ground;
And the more solemn pomp was still deferr'd,
Till new-born nature in fresh looks appear'd.
Thus, Royal Sir, to see you landed here,
Was cause enough of triumph for a year: 10
Nor would your care those glorious joys repeat,
Till they at once might be secure and great:
Till your kind beams, by their continued stay,
Had warm'd the ground, and call'd the damps away,
Such vapours, while your powerful influence dries,
Then soonest vanish when they highest rise.
Had greater haste these sacred rites prepared,
Some guilty months had in your triumphs shared:
But this untainted year is all your own;
Your glories may without our crimes be shown. 20
We had not yet exhausted all our store,
When you refresh'd our joys by adding more:
As Heaven, of old, dispensed celestial dew,
You gave us manna, and still give us new.

Now our sad ruins are removed from sight,
The season too comes fraught with new delight:
Time seems not now beneath his years to stoop,
Nor do his wings with sickly fea