TO THE KING, Upon his comming with his Army into the West.

WElcome, most welcome to our Vowes and us,
Most great, and universall Genius!
The Drooping West, which hitherto has stood
As one, in long-lamented-widow-hood;
Looks like a Bride now, or a bed of flowers,
Newly refresh't, both by the Sun, and showers.
War, which before was horrid, now appears
Lovely in you, brave Prince of Cavaliers!
A deale of courage in each bosome springs
By your accesse; (O you the best of Kings!)
Ride on with all white Omens; so, that where
Your Standard's up, we fix a Conquest there.