Just Charles like measure has return'd to these 17 Whose Pagan hands had stain'd the troubled seas; With ships they made the spoiled merchant mourn; With ships their city and themselves are torn. One squadron of our winged castles sent, O'erthrew their fort, and all their navy rent; For, not content the dangers to increase, And act the part of tempests in the seas, Like hungry wolves, those pirates from our shore Whole flocks of sheep, and ravish'd cattle bore. Safely they might on other nations prey-- Fools to provoke the sovereign of the sea! Mad Cacus so, whom like ill fate persuades, The herd of fair Alcmena's seed invades, 30 Who for revenge, and mortals' glad relief, Sack'd the dark cave and crush'd that horrid thief. Morocco's monarch, wond'ring at this fact, Save that his presence his affairs exact, Had come in person to have seen and known The injured world's revenger and his own. Hither he sends the chief among his peers, Who in his bark proportion'd presents bears, To the renown'd for piety and force, Poor captives manumised, and matchless horse.[2] 40 [1] 'Sallè': Sallè, a town of Fez, given to piracy, was taken and destroyed in 1632 by the army of the Emperor of Morocco, assisted by some English vessels. [2] 'Horse': the Emperor of Morocco, in gratitude to Charles, sent him a present of Barbary horses, and three hundred manumitted Christian slaves.-- UPON HIS MAJESTY'S REPAIRING OF ST PAUL'S.[1] That shipwreck'd vessel which th'Apostle bore, Scarce suffer'd more upon Melita's shore, Than did his temple in the sea of time, Our nation's glory, and our nation's crime. When the first monarch[2] of this happy isle, Moved with the ruin of so brave a pile, This work of cost and piety begun, To be accomplish'd by his glorious son, Who all that came within the ample thought Of his wise sire has to perfection brought; 10 He, like Amphion, makes those quarries leap Into fair figures from a confused heap; For in his art of regiment is found A power like that of harmony in sound. Those antique minstrels, sure, were Charles-like kings, Cities their lutes, and subjects' hearts their strings, On which with so divine a hand they strook, Consent of motion from their breath they took: So all our minds with his conspire to grace The Gentiles' great Apostle, and deface 20 Those state-obscuring sheds, that like a chain Seem'd to confine and fetter him again; Which the glad saint shakes off at his command, As once the viper from his sacred hand: So joys the aged oak, when we divide The creeping ivy from his injured side.