Brauely deckt, come forth, bright day,
Thine houres with Roses strew thy way,
                As they well remember.
Thou receiu'd shalt be with feasts :
Come, chiefest of the British guests,
                Thou fift of Nouember.
Thou with triumph shalt exceede
                In the strictest ember ;
For by thy returne the Lord records his blessed deede.

Britaines, frolicke at your bourd ;                                               
But first sing praises to the Lord
                In your Congregations.
Hee preserued your state alone,
His louing grace hath made you one
                Of his chosen Nations.
But this light must hallowed be
                With your best Oblations ;
Prayse the Lord, for onely great and mercifull is hee.

Death had enter'd in the gate,
And ruine was crept neare the State ;                                        
                But heau'n all reuealed.
Fi'ry Powder hell did make,
Which, ready long the flame to take,
                Lay in shade concealed.
God vs helped, of his free grace :
                None to him appealed ;
For none was so bad to feare the treason or the place.

God his peacefull Monarch chose,
To him the mist he did disclose,
                To him, and none other :                                            
This hee did, O King, for thee,
That thou thine owne renowne might'st see,
                Which no time can smother.
May blest Charles, thy comfort be,
                Firmer then his Brother :
May his heart the loue of peace, and wisedome learne from thee.