We do not give the wine a sparkling name, As if we meant those sparks implied a flame; The flame lies in our blood: and 'tis desire Fed by loose appetite sets us on fire, and concluding with lines 29-32.] _By occasion of the Young Prince his happy Birth._ [Charles II. Born May 29, 1630.] At this glad triumph, when most poets use Their quill, I did not bridle up my Muse For sloth or less devotion. I am one That can well keep my Holy-days at home; That can the blessings of my King and State Better in pray'r than poems gratulate; And in their fortunes bear a loyal part, Though I no bonfires light but in my heart. Truth is, when I receiv'd the first report Of a new star risen and seen at Court; 10 Though I felt joy enough to give a tongue Unto a mute, yet duty strook me dumb: And thus surpris'd by rumour, at first sight I held it some allegiance not to write. For howe'er children, unto those that look Their pedigree in God's, not the Church book, Fair pledges are of that eternity Which Christians possess not till they die; Yet they appear, view'd in that perspective Through which we look on men long since alive, 20 Like succours in a Camp, sent to make good Their place that last upon the watches stood. So that in age, or fate, each following birth Doth set the parent so much nearer earth: And by this grammar we our heirs may call The smiling Preface to our funeral. This sadded my soft sense, to think that he Who now makes laws, should by a bold decree Be summon'd hence, to make another room, And change his royal palace for a tomb. 30 For none ere truly lov'd the present light, But griev'd to see it rivall'd by the night: And if 't be sin to wish that light extinct, Sorrow may make it treason but to think't. I know each malcontent or giddy man, In his religion, with the Persian Adores the rising Sun; and his false view Best likes, not what is best, but what is new. O that we could these gangrenes so prevent (For our own blessing, and their punishment), 40 That all such might, who for wild changes thirst, Rack'd on a hopeless expectation, burst, To see us fetter time, and by his stay To a consistence fix the flying day; And in a Solstice by our prayers made, Rescue our Sun from death or envy's shade.