A Congratulatory ODE TO Admiral RUSSEL, And the other Sea-Commanders, For their late Glorious VICTORY.


In the SAVOY: Printed by Edward Jones, in the Year 1692.

A Congratulatory ODE to Admiral Russel, &c.

WElcom, Ye Worthies of the British Isle,
Welcom from War's tumultuous Noise;
To Peace and Plenty's quiet Joys,
Joys bought for Us by your successful Toile!
Loudly abroad the dreadful Tempests roar;
But You, Our Bulwark and Defence,
Arrest the baleful Influence,
And scarce their faintest Ecchoes reach the Shore:
Safely the distant Dangers We survey,
Secur'd with Wooden Walls, and Guarded by the Sea.
Not so the French; who view'd with watry Eyes
Their Naval Strength at once o'rethrown;
A Loss too Great and Publick grown,
For any Pageant Triumph to disguise:
The Conq'ring Fleet does all her Canvas Wings display;
And like the Royal Bird of Jove,
Does with resistless Fury move,
And seizes in its Nest the trembling Prey:
From the near Shore affrighted Normans see
The Flames of burning Squadrons upwards rise,
A Bonfire fit to solemnize
So Great a Victory.
In vain at Land, by dull delays they strive
Ingloriously to keep their dying Hopes alive;
In vain they shun the English Arms,
Nor answer Our Great Monarch's loud Alarms;
Whilst unsecur'd by all the Arts of Fear,
His Presence awes them there, his Influence strikes them here.
How bright and dazling was the Glorious Scene!
How rich the Trophies of the conquer'd Main!
[Page 4] Room for the Valiant RĘ²SSEL arm'd with Thunder;
See! how he breaks the Gallick Line in sunder!
In vain the furious Elements conspire,
Rocks, Winds, and Waves, and Hostile Fire;
Undauntedly through All he rushes on;
Their Order's broke, the routed Squadron flies;
Down goes the Royal Sun,
Down to the bottom, down,
And Sets in Flames, but never more to Rise.
France mourns her Navy; and this vast Defeat
Shews Louis only in his Losses Great.
Strongly this Great Example works on All;
Through ev'ry Ship, each Loyal Heart,
And Warlike Hand distinctly acts its Part;
So well they Copy out their great Original!
Some Live to Triumph on, some Conquer as they Fall:
A Troop of Glorious Shades; while ev'ry Name
Shall Flourish still, and Live in Fame,
Mention'd by ev'ry Tongue, where Honour is the Theme:
Yet let no mournful Sighs arise,
Let no salt Tears for Them be shed;
Whilst to the Living Brave we Sacrifice
Our Sorrow for the Valiant Dead.
Go on, True Sons of Honour, still advance
The English Glory, by depressing France:
Go on to prove, how much a Royal Trust
Works upon Spirits that are Brave and Just:
This Our Great Mistress knew, whose piercing Eyes,
Unprejudic'd by Lying Calumnies,
Could look through ev'ry faithful Breast;
And saw the Loyal Zeal they afterwards exprest:
Continue still to prop that awful Throne,
Which joins the Subjects Int'rest with its Own:
Whilst France by sad Experience learns from You,
What WILLIAM's Thunder, plac'd in a Good Hand, can do.

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