[Page] THE TRIUMPH OF PEACE. A POEM.

Aggredere O magnos (aderit jam tempus) honores
Chara Deûm Soboles, magnum Jovis incrementum!
Aspice convexo nutantem Pondere mundum,
Terrasque, tractusque maris, Coelumque profundum
Aspice, venturo laetantur ut omnia Soeclo!
—Virgil.

LONDON: Printed for Jacob Tonson, at the Judges-Head in Fleetstreet, near the Inner-Temple-Gate, 1698.

To Sir Richard Blackmore, Knt. M. D. Fellow of the College of Physicians in London, and Physician in Ordina­ry to his Majesty.

SIR,

I Hope you will pardon my Presumption in prefixing your Name to so small a Trifle. 'Tis the first Essay of a young Poet that has not yet reach'd his Twentieth Year; the first I mean that I have ventur'd to make Publick, and therefore having but little Experience to recommend me to the World, I make bold to chuse you for my Guardian during my Minority. The favourable Judg­ment you've been pleas'd to make of some former Lines, makes me flatter my self that you will not be less Indulgent to these; and I am proud to make this publick Acknowledgement of the kind Reception I have met with from so great and worthy a Person; One who has vindicated the Reputation of the Muses from the Dis­honour reflected on 'em by the loose Lives and Writings of some witty men, and has given the World a noble Instance that good Mo­rals and good Poetry are very consistent. But I must not pro­ceed; trifling Presents ought not to be usher'd in with much Ce­remony. I shall only add, that in a Sense of the many Favours receiv'd from You, I shall always endeavour to approve my self,

Sir,
Your most oblig'd, and most humble Servant, JOHN HUGHES.

THE TRIUMPH OF PEACE. A POEM.

HEAR, Britain, hear a rough unpractis'd Tongue!
Tho rough my Voice, the Muse inspires the Song;
The Heav'n-born Muse; ev'n now she springs her Flight,
And bears my raptur'd Soul thro' untrac'd Realms of Light.
We mount aloft, and in our airy way
Retiring Kingdoms far beneath survey.
Amid the rest a spacious Tract appears,
Obscure in view, and on its Visage wears
Black hov'ring Mists, which thick'ning by Degrees,
Extend a lowring Storm o're Earth and Seas.
[Page 2] But, lo! an Eastern Light arising high,
Drives the tempestuous Wrack along the Sky!
Then thus the Muse—Look down, my Son! and see
The bright Procession of a Deity!
She spoke; the darkning Gloom was vanisht quite,
And well-known Europe stands disclos'd to Sight.
Of various States the various Bounds appear;
There wide Hispania, fruitful Gallia here!
Belgia's low Soil conspicuous from afar,
And Flandria, long the Field of a destructive War.
Germania too, with cluster'd Vines o'respread;
And lovely Albion from her watry Bed,
Beauteous above the rest, rears her auspicious Head.
Sea-Nymphs beneath her chalky Cliffs resort,
And awful Neptune keeps his reedy Court;
His Daughter Thames, rich Presents in her Hand
Of bounteous Ceres, traverses the Land;
And seems a mighty Snake, whose shining Pride
Does thro' the Meads in sinuous Volumes glide.
Ah, charming Isle! fairest of all the Main!
Too long thou dost my willing Eye detain.
[Page 3] For see a Heroe on the adverse Strand!
And, lo! a blooming Virgin in his Hand!
All hail, Coelestial Pair!—a Goddess she
Of Heav'nly Birth confest, a more than Mortal He!
Victorious Laurels on his Brows he wears;
Th' attending Fair a branching Olive bears.
Slender her Shape, in Silver Bands confin'd;
Her snowy Garments loosely flow behind,
Rich with embroider'd Stars, and ruffle in the Wind.
But once such differing Beauty met before,
When Warriour Mars did Love's bright Queen adore.
Ev'n Love's bright Queen might seem less winning fair,
And Mars submit to his Heroick Air.
Not Jove himself, Imperial Jove can show
A nobler Mien, or more undaunted Brow,
When his strong Arm thro' Heav'ns Aetherial Plains,
Compels the kindl'd Bolt, and awful Rule maintains.
And now embark'd they seek the British Isles,
Pleas'd with the Charge propitious Ocean smiles.
Before, old Neptune smooths the liquid way;
Obsequious Tritons on the surface play;
And sportful Dolphins with a nimble Glance,
To the bright Sun their glist'ring Scales advance.
[Page 4] In oozy Beds profound the Billows sleep,
No clamorous Winds awake the silent Deep;
Rebuk'd, they whisper in a gentle Breeze,
And all around is universal Peace.
Proceed, my Muse! The following Pomp declare;
Say who, and what the bright Attendants were!
First Ceres in her Chariot seated high,
By harness'd Dragons drawn along the Sky;
A Cornucopia fill'd her weaker Hand,
Charg'd with the various Off-spring of the Land,
Fruit, Flowers, and Corn; her right a Sickle bore;
A yellow Wreath of twisted Wheat she wore;
Next Father Bacchus with his Tygers grac'd
The Show, and squeezing Clusters as he pass'd,
Quaff'd flowing Goblets of rich-flavour'd Wine.
In order last succeed the tuneful Nine;
Apollo too was there; behind him hung
His useless Quiver, and his Bow unstrung;
He touch'd his Golden Lyre, and thus he sung.
Lead on, bright WILLIAM! In thy happy Reign
Peace and the Muses are restor'd again.
[Page 5] War that fierce Lyon long disdaining Law
Rang'd uncontroul'd, and kept the World in aw,
And trembling Kingdoms crouch'd beneath his Paw.
At last the reeling Monster, drunk with Gore,
Falls at thy Feet subdu'd, and quells his Roar;
Tamely to thee he bends his shaggy Mane,
And on his Neck admits the long-rejected Chain.
At thy protecting Court for this blest Day,
Attending Nations their glad Thanks shall pay:
Not Belgia, and the rescu'd Isle alone,
But Europe shall her great Deliverer own;
Rome's mighty Grandeur was not more confest,
When great Antonius travell'd thro' the East,
And Crowds of Monarchs did each Morning wait
With early Homage at his Palace-Gate.
Haste then, bright Prince! thy Britain's Transports meet;
Haste to her Arms, and make her Bliss compleat!
What'ere glad News has reach'd her list'ning Ear,
While her long absent Lord provokes her Fear,
Her Joys are in suspence, her Pleasures unsincere.
He comes, thy Heroe comes! O beauteous Isle!
Revive thy Genius with a chearful Smile!
Let thy rejoycing Sons fresh Palms prepare,
To grace the Trophies of the finish'd War;
[Page 6] On high be hung the Martial Sword insheath'd,
The Shield with Ribbons dress'd, and Spear with Ivy wreath'd!
Let speaking Paint in various Tablets show
Past Scenes of Battel to the Crowd below!
Round this Triumphant Pile in rustick Dance
The shouting Swains shall hand in hand advance;
The wealthy Farmer from his Toils shall cease;
The Ploughman from the Yoke his smoaking Steers release,
And joyn to solemnize the Festival of Peace.
No more for want of Hands th' unlabour'd Field,
Choak'd with rank Weeds, a sickly Crop shall yield;
Calm Peace returns; behold her shining Train!
And fruitful Plenty is restor'd again.—
Apollo ceas'd;—The Muses take the Sound:
From Voice to Voice th' harmonious Notes rebound,
And echoing Lyres transmit the volant Fugue around.
Mean while the Steddy Bark with prosp'rous Gales
Fills the large Sheets of her expanded Sails,
And gains th' intended Port; thick on the Strand,
Like swarming Bees, th' assembl'd Britons stand,
And press to see their welcome Sov'reign land:
At his Approach unruly Transport reigns
In ev'ry Breast, and Rapture fires their Veins.
[Page 7] A general Shout succeeds, as when on high
Exploded Thunder rends the vaulted Sky.
A short Convulsion shakes the solid Shore,
And rocks th' adjacent Deep, unmov'd before;
Loud Acclamations thro' the Valleys ring,
While to Augusta's Walls the Crowd attend their King.
And now behold
The Quire of St. Pa [...]s op [...] Peace.
a finish'd Temple rise,
On lofty Pillars climbing to the Skies!
Of Bulk stupendous its proud Pile it rears,
The gradual Product of successive Years.
An inner Gate that folds with Iron Leaves
The charm'd Spectator's entring Steps receives:
Where curious Works in twisted Stems are seen
Of branching Foliage vacuous between.
O're this a vocal Organ mounted high
On marble Columns strikes the wondring Eye,
And feeds at once two Senses with Delight,
Sweet to the Ear, and splendid to the Sight.
Marble the Floor, enrich'd with native Stains
Of various Dye, and streak'd with azure Veins.
Ev'n Aemulous Art with Nature seems to strive,
And the carv'd Figures almost breath and live;
[Page 8] The painted Altar, glorious to behold,
Shines with delightful Blue, and dazling Gold.
Here first th' illustrious Three of Heav'nly Race
Religion, Liberty, and Peace embrace;
Here joyful Crowds their pious Thanks express
For Peace restor'd, and Heav'ns Indulgence bless,
Auspicious Structure! Born in happy Days,
Whose first Employment is the Noblest, PRAISE!
So when by just degrees, th' Eternal Thought
His Six-Days Labour to Perfection brought,
With Laws of Motion first endu'd the Whole,
And bad the Heav'ns in destin'd Circles rowl;
Then polish'd Spheres commenc'd their Harmony;
All Nature in a Chorus did agree,
And the World's Birth-Day was a Jubilee.
FINIS.

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