A panegyrick on His Most Excellent Majesty King William IIId occasioned by the happy conclusion of the general peace, September the 20th, 1697.

A panegyrick on His Most Excellent Majesty King William IIId occasioned by the happy conclusion of the general peace, September the 20th, 1697.

Table of contents

Title page

A PANEGYRICK On His Most Excellent Majesty, King WILLIAM the Third.

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A PANEGYRICK On His Most Excellent Majesty, King WILLIAM the Third.

GREAT Prince! the Arbiter of Europe's Fate,

Happy Restorer of our Tottering State;

That dost the Rule of willing Nations sway,

Whilst Your Commands Submissive Kings obey.

And he who to the World's Extreamest end

Strove his Ambitious Scepter to Extend.

That, what he once Usurpt, would now Restore,

And Suppliant like from You his Peace Implore:

Pardon my tender Muse's bold Design,

Whilst some kind Heav'nly Power Inspires my Pen;

[Page] Which (though in humble Accents) strives to Raise

Wonder at Your Great Deeds, and Trophies to Your Praise.

When Great Nassau in Arms and War Renown'd,

Note, His Majesty was born a Posthumus just after his Father's Death.

Whose bold Attempts such great Success had Crown'd;

And done such Mighty Things, and more Design'd

T'untimely Fate His Warlike Soul Resign'd;

To Asswage the Sorrow at his Obsequies,

You, Phoenix like, did from his Ashes Rise;

And as a Rising-Sun that Joy restore,

Which set in Seas of Tears the Night before:

His Breath transfus'd to Yours, it did Inspire

With the same Martial Heat, the same Desire

His Soul possest before it did Expire.

His Courage You Improv'd, and as it Rose,

Try'd it with Skilful Fury on Your Foes:

In Tender Youth You felt Wars Rough Alarms,

The Common Good exciting You to Arms.

This let the Fights of Mons and Seneff tell;

How first You Fought, and Fighting did excel;

The pleasant Mase, and Sambres conscious Stream

Can Witness to Your Deeds, and Speak Your Fame;

Where You (when Young) Your Conquering Troops have led,

And Mighty Armies have before You fled;

Where too so oft You've swel'd the blushing Flood

With heaps of Slain, and Streams of Gallick Blood.

Your drooping Country, o're-ran with Fire and Sword,

To Ancient Splendor was by You Restor'd:

[Page] Its Ruin with gen'rous Pity You beheld,

Then bravely dar'd, and bravely too Repell'd

The Insulting Foe, whose swoln Ambitious Mind

That thought 'twas all his own, or else Design'd,

Within just bounds was by Your Sword Confin'd.

And next by Heav'n Inspir'd, and to pursue

Your Great Designs, to our Relief You flew;

There all those Mists and Gloomy Clouds dissolv'd,

Which our unhappy Island had involv'd;

Arm'd with the Right and Justice of Your Cause

Reform'd Religion, and Restor'd the Laws

Which were before expell'd; 'twas bravely done;

And justly You obtain'd and wear a Crown:

To which Your Deeds declare You have as good

A Right by Merit, as You have by Blood.

That Labour done, Tempestuous Seas You Crost,

Reducing Kingdoms that before were Lost:

The stubborn Irish tam'd, and at the Boyne

A Vict'ry and Immortal Glory won;

And should my Pen decline this noble Theme,

Yet Fame it self would publish, when the Stream

A Thousand Ages hence shall Run no more,

The Wonders You perform'd upon the Shore.

How undismay'd You stem'd the eager Tide,

And turn'd the Doubtful Vict'ry on Your Side:

[Page] How Smoak and Sulphur fill'd the Air, and Storms

Of hissing Bullets flew in various Forms:

Death and Destruction rang'd about the Field,

And Thousands to their Fate their Gasping Breaths did yield;

Yet all those threatning Dangers You despis'd,

And more than Life the Common Good You priz'd:

Some Foe Inspir'd by Hell design'd Your Fall,

But Heaven averted the too daring Ball;

The Conscious Ball flew hissing by Your side,

Saw its Mistake, then quickly graz'd, and dy'd.

Some unseen Pow'r protects Your Life and Crown,

Who for Your Countrey's safety do neglect Your own.

In Namur's Siege, that Glorious Siege, we find,

The next Experience of Your daring Mind;

Where just success deserving Valour found,

And Lofty Louis his Superior found;

His Army looking on, You won the prize;

All Your Great Deeds before, this One does signalize.

How unlike to this was the fam'd Troy of Old,

Of which such strange Romantick Tales are told?

None did the use of Modern Engines know,

To hurl Destruction on the assailing Foe;

But the Old Walls their Nodding Heads reclin'd,

Their Forts submitting to the very wind,

Though built by Gods, to Men at last resign'd.

[Page] What noble Act was in this Siege, to be

A Subject fit for lasting Poetry!

Yet the blind Bard (with an Inspir'd Pen)

Wrote this Mock-siege in so sublime a strain;

And the Greek Heroes has extoll'd so high,

As if with daring Hand they'd storm'd the Sky,

And 'gainst the gods obtain'd a Victory.

What would he write, had he the Town survey'd,

G'ainst which Bold You, Your Chearful Squadrons lead;

Whose Rocky Walls, like pointed Cliffs do rise,

That pierce with their stupendious height the Skies,

And with their pondrous weight oppress the Ground,

Engines of massy Brass being planted round;

Who when in flames, disgorge their sulph'rous breaths,

In various forms disperse a thousand Deaths;

With hissing noise Great Flaming Globes extend,

Which Fear and Death diffusively extend.

Their Common Fate whole Troops together found,

Whilst thundring Drums and Trumpets dreadful sound,

The louder Groans of dying Men confound.

So when the Foe sprung their Infernal Mines,

Curst as their Counsels, close as their Designs,

In Flakes of Fire the shatter'd Rocks did rise,

Which fill'd with gloomy Clouds the darken'd Skies.

Thick in the Air the darting Meteors flew,

Which seem'd the Ancient Chaos to renew,

And struck with horror all, except undaunted You.

[Page] Yet there you stood dispeacing Your Command,

Expos'd the Bulwark of the British Land;

Dead Corps and mangled Limbs about You spread,

In Rapid Balls, Death hissing round Your Head.

No Danger You declin'd, but bravely stood,

Too lavish for us of that Precious Blood;

Which many Ages through a Royal Vein,

To You in long successive Order ran.

Nor are Your Deeds to Earth alone control'd,

Your Naval Power's inimitably bold;

Steer without Rivals to what Point they please,

And make Your Fame as boundless as the Seas.

All Nations, when Your Floating Forts they view,

Lowring their Flags, resign the Right to You:

Your wide Command to every Coast extends,

And the scorcht Moor before the English bends.

Neptune lays down his Trident at Your Feet,

And pays submissive Homage to Your Fleet.

The Lofty Louis now can do no more,

But foam with Rage, and standing on the Shore,

Sees from Your Ships his routed Squadrons fly,

And his Bomb'd Towns in dismal Ruins lye.

As when fierce Wolves the harmless Herd ore-pow'r,

Just as they wou'd their welcome Prey devour,

[Page] The Lordly Lyons unexpected sound

Approaching near their wakeful Ears, doth wound:

Home to their Dens they fly as swift's the Wind,

Grinning, look back, and leave their Prey behind.

So when the Gallick Fleet usurps Your Right,

And on the Seas our Trembling Merchants fright;

When they perceive the English Flag appear,

Quickly they sculk behind their Forts for fear.

With pregnant Sails they hasten to the Shore,

Quitting the Prize they took but just before.

The Sea You Rule, and the French Monarch Awe,

Set Bounds to's Pride, and give's Ambition Law.

That Vaunting Prince, whose vain Ambitious Mind,

Victory o're us, and all the World, design'd;

And to an Universal Monarchy aspir'd,

With's beaten Fleet behind Strong Forts retir'd:

Sees the Britannia with a just disdain,

Riding Triumphant on the Liquid Plain,

To keep Your Right, and Lord it on the Main.

O would this Theam some Abler Pen inspire,

To give just Praise, where I can but admire.

Or would Great Homer now revive again,

To write Your Actions in that Lofty Strain,

As once he sung (nor did he sing in vain)

Of Gods and Heroes, as he rais'd his Voice,

When Wars and Battels were his Lofty Choice:

[Page] Or would some mighty Virgil now rehearse

In Golden Lines, and never-dying Verse,

Your Glorious Acts, the Immortal Piece should be

Ingrav'd in Brass t' instruct Posterity:

To rouse Luxurious Monarchs from their Ease,

To do like You, and Emulate Your Praise.

Teach Amorous Sots to shun a Woman's Charme,

Having been circled in more Noble Arms:

Kindle in tender Breasts a Warlike Fire,

And their soft Souls with Daring Thoughts inspire;

Then Times to come should celebrate Your Birth,

And future Heroes Copy from Your Worth:

Their Souls inspir'd by Your Immortal Fame,

Would Tyrants Crush, and Gallick Monsters Tame,

And terrify their Boldest Foes with Your repeated Name.

Thus Great You are, and thus unenvyed stand,

Since what you Act, transcends what You Command.

Not like Luxurious Kings neglect the State,

Or to a General trust a Kingdom's Fate.

In Person all Your Great Exploits are done,

You conquer all Your Self, and make the Work Your own

O happy those that such a Prince obtain,

Happy the Kingdoms where such Monarchs Rain:

Blest the Allyance Crown'd with such a Head;

And Troops, by such a Daring Courage led.

[Page] Happy are they whom such Examples Fire,

And bravely in such a Glorious Cause Expire:

How undismay'd they meet approaching Death;

With what Delight they Gasp their Dying Breath,

And dare their Fate, when such a Prince is by,

Who us'd to Conquer, never fears to Dye.

'Tis brave to quit one's Life for Common Good,

And Seal one's Love to You with Streams of vital Blood.

If thus by Arms You've won us such Renown;

Now Europe's Quiet doth Your Actions Crown;

Now Martial Noise is husht, and Battels cease,

Happy You'l make the Effects of such a Peace,

Our Trade shall flourish and our Wealth Increase:

We shall with Plenty and Excess be cloy'd,

And all that Heaven can grant, by us enjoy'd.

The World's whole product be in England view'd,

And in our Isle the Golden Age renew'd:

Our Merchants unmolested on the Main,

Shall free Commerce with Neighbouring States regain;

Who shall with Europe's Wealth our Stores supply,

And choicest Wines to feed our Luxury:

We shall the Luscious Sweets of Asia know,

The Indies both shall to our Havens flow;

And Africk's dazling o're at every Tide,

On the sweet Stream of Silver Thames shall Ride:

Your dread Commands all Countries shall Obey,

And to Your Stores their Grateful Tribute Pay:

[Page] Our Different Factions You shall Reconcile,

And reunite our now-Divided Isle.

Those stubborn Souls which Justice ne're could Tame,

Shall become Vassals meerly to Your Fame.

Those misled Fools who scorn'd to own Your Power,

By Your Merit won, shall Loyal Thoughts restore,

And pay the Allegiance they deny'd before.

A Series of new Time shall now begin,

And every Rowling Year shall usher in

A long continned Scene of Happiness.

But here:

My Muse! Transported with the Endless Bliss,

The welcome Peace approaching to our Isle;

And to those high flown Thoughts, that Lofty Stile

The Subject craves, unable to aspire,

Must the high Theme desist, and silently admire.

G. B.

FINIS.

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§

§

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A PANEGYRICK On His Most Excellent Majesty King William the IIId.

Occasioned by the HAPPY CONCLUSION OF THE GENERAL PEACE, SEPTEMBER the 20th, 1697.

LONDON: Printed for Richard Baldwin, near the Oxford-Arms in Warwick-Lane. MDCXCVII.

Information about this book

Title statement

A panegyrick on His Most Excellent Majesty King William IIId occasioned by the happy conclusion of the general peace, September the 20th, 1697.

G. B.

Edition statement

1697

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2008-09 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A30862

ID [STC]

Wing B68

ID [STC]

ESTC R28326

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

10526038

ID [OCLC]

ocm 10526038

ID [VID]

45202

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Early English books online.

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(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A30862)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 45202)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 1394:34)

Source

— A panegyrick on His Most Excellent Majesty King William IIId occasioned by the happy conclusion of the general peace, September the 20th, 1697., G. B..

Extent

12 p.

Printed for Richard Baldwin,. London :: 1697.. (Signed at end: G.B.) (Reproduction of original in the British Library.)

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