The muses joy for the recovery of that weeping vine Henretta Maria, the most illustrious Queen-Mother and her royal branches. Crouch, John, fl. 1660-1681. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription B08869 of text R174398 in the English Short Title Catalog (Wing C7301A). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 12 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 5 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 B08869 Wing C7301A ESTC R174398 64551138 ocm 64551138 184499 2240886188

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 Early English books online text creation partnership. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 2, no. B08869) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 184499) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English Books, 1641-1700 ; 2865:18) The muses joy for the recovery of that weeping vine Henretta Maria, the most illustrious Queen-Mother and her royal branches. Crouch, John, fl. 1660-1681. [8] p. [s.n.], London : Printed in the year 1660. Epistle dedicatory signed: "Jo. Crouch" -- p. [4]. Part in verse. Reproduction of original in: British Library. eng Henrietta Maria, -- Queen, consort of Charles I, King of England, 1609-1669 -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800. English poetry -- Early modern, 1500-1700. eebo The muses joy for the recovery of that weeping vine Henretta [sic]-Maria, the most illustrious Queen-Mother, and her royall branches. Crouch, John, 1660 8 1866 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 A This text has no known defects that were recorded as gap elements at the time of transcription. 2013-07 Assigned for keying and markup 2013-07 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2014-01 Sampled and proofread 2014-01 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2014-03 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

THE MUSES JOY For the recovery of that Weeping Vine HENRETTA-MARIA , The most Illustrious Queen-Mother , and Her Royall Branches .

London , Printed in the year , 1660.

TO THE Virtuous and Right Honourable , ANNA-MARIA , Countess of Shrewsbury . Madam ,

YOV might upon the first view condemn this Oblation ( coming so late ) as unvoluntary ; and therefore unacceptable ; did it not bring with it an Apology , which common charity cannot refuse , the truth is , this Poem hath struggled for life with no less opposition than Mortality it selfe ; the honest Printer who undertook to give it birth , dying in the very act of its Delivery : where it hath remained these three weeks wrapt in a dead mans sheet , striving for birth like one of those preternatural Issues of the Sun upon the slime of Nilus , part shaped and alive , part without forme or motion , and it had deservedly expired with him , had it not born in the Front of it two sacred Signatures of my duty to Her Majesty , and my respect to Your Ladiship . You must needs beg me the Queens pardon for being guilty of an innocent Homicide , for Her Majesties sake ; vvhich accident hath added to my presumption . What the Ambition of others aims at in their high addresses , I shall not determine ; whenever I put on Eagles wings , the Augury of my design is ( the natural effect of distance ) by soaring high to lessen my own merits , and magnifie my obligations . And although I never had the honor to be related to those noble Families the Shrewsburies and Brudenals ( now in a happy conjunction ) yet when I hear the high Expressions of both from a Brother and a Sister , I cannot be unconcern'd in their debt of duty , or passive in their transportations : but as I am warm'd , so I must admire by reflection . This ( the greater Her presumption is my Muses second Service to your Ladyship ; though yet she never brought an Embassy of ill news , never put your fair eyes to the expense of one pearl . Before she solemniz'd your auspicious Nuptials : perhaps the dress of that Poem might , the subject could not be troublesom , which was so pleasing to your Ladyship . At this time my Muse celebrates the new espousals of a Royal Widdow to her Crown , I wish I could say to her King . Now though your Ladyship be entertain'd in the Porch , the Dedication of this Poem ; yet the fabrick , namely the Subject , is part of her Majesties Revenue ; unto whom I need no nearer Access than your Ladyship , your person being as near the Queen as her shadow to her Body , or rather as her Body to her Head ; joyn'd not onely by propinquity , but by influence also . And now ; Madam , I have unbosom'd my whole design , which is , that the world by me , and her Majesty by you may knovv , how much I am her Majesties loyal Subject , and

Your Ladyships humblest Servant , JO. CROVCH .
THE MUSES JOY For the Recovery of that Weeping Vine HENRETTA MARIA . THe Queen return'd ! more wonders still ! a Troy Of spoiles and blood has built a Greece of joy ! Dull Age ! thy long imprison'd faith release , Believe , nay see , that miracles do not cease : Heav'ns arm has broke the cloud , made bare & bright Hath eas'd our faith , turn'd vision into sight . But is the Queen arriv'd ? come safely over ? Then Calice mingle Cliffs , and kiss thy Dover ? Then France and Christendom be joyn'd to Kent , Not by a fast League , but firm Continent . But Waves made not this wonder , there hath stood 'Twixt her and us a wider Sea of Blood : This Sea dry'd up , the Queen might freely pass , Her ship mov'd on a pavement , smooth as glass : The waters sensible ( as those we please ) Smile to transport the Queen of th' Narrow Seas . Phoebus if ever thou deserv'd a Bow , Or Occidental Sacrifice , 't is now ; The East-world to thy perfum'd Rising kneels , But now the West thy Healing virtue feels : The glorious splendor of thy Golden Rays Has wing'd the Hours , and hasten'd happy dayes . All ominous Meteors spent , this Sixtieth Year The Stars drop hony in our Hemisphere . Never was Spring so verdant , spruce and gay ; For Mildews , Manna fell last Month of May : Three sent from Heav'n to curb unbridled Men : One out of Gratitude went to Heav'n agen : Resolv'd , what careless Subjects lest undone , The Fathers Funeral should be his Son . But the auspicious Pow'rs above conclude To mollifie this hard Vicissitude : Send us fresh Balm to heal that sharp Rebuke , Mother for Son , a Queen instead of Duke . Venus a Golden Apple sent before , A pledg of her Arrival on our shore : Brings in her Arms Henretta too the fair ; Princes and Princesses a Double pair , Exeters Angel breath'd here but a while , Babe , Jesus-like , an Infant in Exile ! Is this that Queen whom a Rebellious Crew Sent Bullets after for a kind adieu ? One bor'd the place where Majesty did sit , And came as near as Heav'n would suffer it : Had you been present there , you might have seen The King of Terrors prostrate to a Queen . Such Iron pills the sons of Death and Fate , Prescrib'd to cure the Feavers of a State ! Is this that living Martyr so hard prest With Injuries , would split a vulgar Breast ? Wh ' endur'd Affronts , Indignities and Force , An unjust Exile , more unjust Divorce ? Such a Divorce the worlds great eye ne'er saw , Writ by the Sword , and seal'd by Canon-Law ; Whose Act might past , and future times out-do , When Law and Gospel were divorced too : A strange Divorce ! where the whole guilt was Love , And constancie the cause of such Remove : Divorce more monstrous yet ! which rends the wife ; Not from her Husbands Bosom , but his Life . You Loyal Shepherdesses , who these Floods , Have liv'd 'mongst Wolves and Satyrs in the Woods ; 'Mongst Ladies of all Trades , without respect , Compell'd to use their ruder Dialect ; Spring out with your Diana , O break forth , And shew the blest world , not your height , but worth . To your long clouded Firmament resort , And shine like bright stars in your Brittish Court : You 've now a Mistress , an auspicious Guide , To teach you modes of Modesty , not Pride : To make you Wise , not in a narrow sense , But measur'd by a Queens circumference . Be like your Gems , not sleek'd up for meer sight , But Influential too , as well as bright : Of which some help the head , some heart , some spleen ; One Lady cures all these , that 's like the Queen . Welcom great Princess , by good Prov'dence sent Home to us , from your Native Banishment ! Delight to see your Royal Branches twine Their Arms about you , their Beloved Vine ; ( That fruitful Vine , whose goodness made it smart ; That lives , and yet so long has bled at heart . ) On your Just Throne in serene safety sit ; Forget all past , except the Benefit . The Heav'ns and Earth rejoyce at your return . You cannot gratify their Joys , and mourn . Madam , let no past suff'rings make you sad ; When three Realms now conspire to make you glad ; Your triumphs bound not here ; the general voyce Of more than Christian World ecchoes , Rejoyce . London ( long Widdow ) was espous'd last May , But till you came kept not her Nuptial day . Share Empire with your Sons , our King , and Brother ; They shall command one Sex , and You the other . And now since Cromwell ( by a fatall Boon ) Gasp't in his bed too late , and yet too soon ! Since Bradshaw could not so much mercy win To live to Hang and suffer for his sin : ( Though his and Cromwels bloud together spilt Were both too black to expiate their guilt ) Since divine Justice ( so severely kind ) Has scourg'd their Drudges , too long left behind ! Since Nolls whole Reign was but a Dream at best , We'ill wind his story up into a Jest . When this swoln Phaeton in the full Carreer Of his usurpt dominion 'mongst us here ; Must in a brave his forraign Prancers rule , ( As if an Ass grown proud would guide a Mule ) When this Suns Son fell from his hot Caroach , Then the blest hours prepar'd the Kings approach : His panting Heart presag'd his tumbling down , Not from his Chariot , but a Triple Crown , I say a Triple Crown , for that was all , ( He gave the other to the Cardinal : ) Whose Diadem ne'er girt his brow , till Dead ; O thus may Death still crown a Traitors Head ! He 's now below the Earth , there let him lie , There rot , and once more in our Memories die . But let our joys bless Heav'n for this rich Change , A King , Queen , Duke , and virtuous Orange , Henretta too ; who left her native Air , Not to be greater , but more Debonair : Wh ' abroad like injur'd Pilgrims did converse , Here chain'd , there Tenants of the Universe . Great England ! Great , not in thy breadth or length ; Protected more by Providence than Strength : Thou , in thy little Circle dost contain Princes too mighty both for France and Spain . O may thy People washt in so much blood , Be humble , thankful , loyal , wise and good ! And may our good Queen never weep again , Unless it be for joy she once had pain , That once her blest Womb with a Charls did teem , Should both a Crown Inherit and Redeem . Let proud Rebellion , sunk as low as Hell , For ever There , in its own Region , dwell . FINIS .