A POEM Dedicated to the IMMORTAL MEMORY OF Her Late Majesty The Most Incomparable Q. MARY.

By Mr. HVME.

LONDON, Printed for Iacob Tonson, at the Iudge's Head, near the Inner-Temple-Gate, in Fleet-Street, 1695.

A POEM Dedicated to the IMMORTAL MEMORY OF her late Majesty QUEEN MARY.

WEEP on, bereav'd Britannia, weep on,
Whole Seas of Tears, an Inundation!
Let the tumultuous Tyde run ore,
From the Britannic, to the Belgic Shore:
And Deluge far the Universe,
As far as just impartial Fame,
Shall through the wondring World disperse
The Bright, the Blest Maria's Ermin Name.
Thy Guardian Angel has forsook her Throne,
Thy Eyes must over-cast thy shining Shield with Rust▪
And thy inverted Spear, inscribe thy Seat the Dust!
Weep on, bereav'd Britannia, weep on,
[Page 4]And through our heaving Hearts maintain,
Of Sighs and Tears, the Human Hurricane:
Till as her Goodness, our excessive Grief
Above Description, and beyond Belief,
Do through our leaky Eyes allow no more Relief:
Drein us to sweating Monuments of Stone,
And make a Niobe of the Nation!
Thy Guardian-Angel up to Heav'n is flown,
Weep on, bereav'd Britannia, weep on;
For thou undone; alone hast lost
More sov'reign Goodness, than the World can boast!
Ah charming Queen, to save thee from a Tomb,
Who would not help to make a Human Hecatomb?
When from frail Flesh enfranchis'd Souls remove,
Could they look down from their Abodes above,
'Twould almost violate thy Bliss, to know,
How much we lack, how much lament thee here below!
From which side of the shining Scene
Shall we our woful View begin?
Which of thy Royal Vertues represent,
Our Wonde [...] with our Sorrows to augment?
Which of so many? Where each single one
Is rais'd to so superlative a size;
That like the full-Orb'd, over-flowing Moon,
With new spring Tides of Tears, it floods our Eyes,
And does above Imagination lift
our Loss, while ruin'd Reason runs adrift!
Who can Ideas of the Great and Good,
The Meek, the Mighty, and the Fair
Frame such as may be understood,
O're whelm'd with Grief, and drowned in Despair?
Some Scenes may in Distemper be exprest,
But not the calm Sereneness of thy Brest;
None but the Happy, none can this perform;
In vain we draw our Landshape in a Storm;
In vain describe the wealthy Indian Coast,
When that to us, we to our selves are lost!
[Page 5]As Lunatics, untractable and fierce,
Are bound in Chains, in order to their Cure;
Ungovern'd Grief, must fetter'd be in Verse,
And Rhime, the Shackles Sence does worst endure.
Begin the Royal Representative,
Which, though our Grief in Water-colours draw,
Shall of all Vertues an Exemplar give,
The noblest Image that the World ere saw.
All Colours are too flat, Hyperboles too low:
What can the Painter or the Poet do?
In such vast Crowds, thy veying Vertues come,
Th' amaze Description, and strike Admiration dumb.
All Arts are at a loss to set thee forth,
Nothing can give Addition to thy Worth:
To such a heighth thou didst Perfection raise,
That to relate thee is supremest Praise!
Yet who sufficient is, to represent,
The noblest Princess, or the humblest Saint?
Describe thy Private, or thy Publick Life,
Th' inimitable Queen, or wondrous Wife?
The Matchless Mistress, easie in her State,
Majestick mixture of the Good and Great?
The Politic, the Pleasant, the Devout,
The severe Saint within, the shining Queen without?
The Pillar of the Church, the Partner of the Throne,
The Queen, the Wife, the bosom Friend in one?
The First best Minister of State,
Whose Breast was always silent and sedate?
Th' Amazement of the Council-Board,
The secret, soft Adviser of our Lord?
The Cabinet of all his Royal Care,
The Ornament of Peace, and the Reward of War?
The tender Nursing Mother of the Poor,
Not to thy Native Land confin'd:
[Page 6]Thy secret Charities, the World spread ore,
The Benefactor of Mankind:
Who fed a Thousand Mouths, that did not know
On whom their thankful Blessings to bestow,
Sadly discover'd, now thou art no more!
To Pity so propense, that there alone
You found the narrow Compass of a Throne;
Beyond Compassion and self-Sympathy,
Sometimes you felt the Wants you did supply;
And when your Pow'r, your Will could not suffice,
Laid out the precious Treasures of your Eyes:
Eyes wherein no Ambition ere did dwell,
But that of doing Good, and living well;
Eyes, wherein nothing ere did swell,
Unless it were a charitable Tear,
Because you could not help as soon as hear;
That you were Circumscrib'd in doing Good.
That only, that provok'd the pious Flood.
Thus thy diffusive Bounties blest our Isle,
Profuse of Goodness, like oreflowing Nile.
In all things Excellent, to a surprize,
Beneath thy Feet Malice and Envy lies.
If any Wretch, whom those dire Plagues infest,
Against thy Excellence dares draw his Tongue,
He of all Goodness must be dispossess'd,
The vilest of the Atheist Throng,
To lewdest, lying Impudence giv'n ore,
And would, with thee, Blaspheme the Heav'nly Pow'r.
In thee alone, in wondrous thee,
Contesting Contrarieties agreed,
Humble Submission and Supremacy,
Temp'ring their opposite Extreams so well,
Empire and Duty did together dwell,
And from their fierce Antipathies were freed!
Empire disdains a Partner in the Throne,
Duty implies humble Subjection,
Yet both in thee combining were but one:
[Page 7]In Foreign Fields, while our Heroic Lord,
'Gainst th' oregrown French, drew his undaunted Sword;
Secure the Sceptre rested in thy Hand,
Yet though accomplish'd for the high Command;
The Martial Monarch, above Empire dear,
Though absent, still commanded here:
Strange Paradox of Power, by Love allay'd,
While the Queen govern'd, still the Wife obey'd!
How didst thou Pray against a long Campagne?
How often wish to interrupt thy Reign?
How didst thou fly to meet him on the Shore?
Ambitious only to give ore,
At his Return, thy undervalu'd Pow'r?
In thee alone dispensing Pow'r appear'd,
Such as our jealous Isle could ne'er have fear'd:
You could alone our slavish Fears confute,
Who only ore your self were absolute.
Oh charming Queen, inimitably high,
More by your Vertues, than your Throne sublime,
In vain thy lab'ring Sex does after climb,
Mated by meer Impossibility!
What Excellence soe'er in them appears,
To thy vast Vertue such proportion bears,
As human Structures of the noblest Name,
Compar'd with Nature's universal Frame:
Thy private Vertues none can e'er attain,
None can be such a Wife, but such a Queen!
Such as none are, who should obey;
Nor ever any was, who did a Sceptre sway.
Bring from the sleeping Nations of the Dead,
That ere adorn'd a Crown, the noblest Head;
Bring forth your fam'd Eliza Ages past,
In her best Light, and strongest Lustre plac't:
Set her with all advantage on her Throne,
With all her Graces and her Virtues round:
Let none of her dark Shades be shown,
'Cause in our Parallel no such are found;
[Page 8]Ours is all brightness, all unshaded Light,
Amazing the Beholders with Delight.
On Her right Hand, place disappointed Spain,
Here the supported States, exhausted France,
From Civil Wars, to Peace restor'd again,
Let these her loftiest Trophies high advance.
Lay the Beseeching Nation at her Feet,
And of Her Virgin Majesty,
Let them a much-desired Heir entreat,
And making Court-Enamour'd Anjou by:
Describe her haughty jealous of her Pow'r,
To Love's soft Yoke unwilling to submit;
This minute yielding in the Female Fit,
The next disdaining the despised Amour.
Then let the true Reform'd Religion
Reflect a radiant Glory round her Throne:
And last of Years, let many Ages crown
Her Life, her Subjects Blessing, not her own.
Till dampt with Age, her Faculties decline,
And her own mind of Fate's approach divine,
Conceal her weary of her State and Crown;
Like Heav'ns great Light, that in a Cloud goes down!
In Crowds, while changling Statesmen Northward run,
And ere she sets, adore the Rising Sun.
Behold our Princess in her blooming Youth,
In Royal Honour Rich, and native Truth;
With undiscover'd Indies in her Breast,
More worth than all the Treasures of the East;
Than all the Wealth, the new World sends the old,
Than Tangier had't been made of Massy Gold;
Giving to Great Nassaw her Nuptial Hand:
Of exact Beauty and exalted Mind,
From all the Frailties of her Sex refin'd;
Knowing of others, of her self and State,
Thence humble, affable, yet truly great.
See how she gains upon the hostile Land?
[Page 9]How soon her winning Vertues reconcile
Us, and the Sea-born Rivals of our Isle?
Whom Matchivilian France to Ruine sought,
Took Part on both sides, and for neither fought,
Yet could our greedy Interest agree,
Might Master half the Land, and Command all the Sea.
Her Charms obtain'd so absolute Command,
As for our bloody Battles to atone;
The Foreign Daughter of an adverse Land,
The Dutch ador'd as Mother of their own.
Now Clouds of Superstition 'gan lowr,
And overcast the British Hemisphere;
And Thunder-claps of Arbitrary Pow'r
Foreshe [...]'d the Tyrant Tempest near.
See how she ventures to relieve th' Opprest,
The darling Inmate of her Royal Brest.
A sinking Church and State to save,
Heroie Nassau on the Winter Wave!
Hark how the hideous Tempest roars,
How Seas confound the circumscribing Shores;
Heav'n all, but in her Eyes, in Storms appears;
A quiet Calm possess'd the Royal Pair:
Nor adverse Winds, nor adverse Fleets he fears,
Nor the dark Prince that domineers the Air.
Sure as the Sun, though Clouds the World o'ercast,
He holds his Course, and gains his Port at last.
Now Armies rais'd t' enslave their native Land,
Amaz'd with their own guilty Fears disband;
The monstrous Hydra of Arbitrary sway,
Dismay'd, had scarce the pow'r to run away.
While the freed States in Consultation meet,
And lay the Crown at their Deliverer's Feet.
Now Albion's Fleet upon the Alli'd Shore
Appears more terrible than when they fought
For all the Wealth, that through the wat'ry World is brought;
Imperious Peace seems now to demand more,
[Page 10]Than unsuccessful War could e'er have lost,
No more their Nautic Skil they boast;
Which through the waving Wilderness descrys
A Road to land, that underneath us lies;
Wish undiscover'd the enriching Stone,
And the Magnetic Pole were still unknown.
Now Life, and Liberty, and mighty State,
Seem overvalu'd at too high a rate;
Dear bought with her departure, they refuse,
Since to keep these, they must their Princess loose;
Strangely, now first in the Exchange, o'erseen,
Though parting with a Princess for a Queen.
Shipwrack'd between two mighty Tydes of Woe,
Undone unless she stay, undone unless she go.
Now the distracted Nation crowds the Coast,
Looking, as if their forlorn Land were lost;
And Shipping Shoals, ran swarming on the Shore,
Their Eyes bring in the Tyde that sets her o'er;
Fresh gusts of sighing Grief augment the Gale,
And Sorrow self-encreasing swells the Pyrates Sail.
In vain their heavy Hearts hang on the Shrouds,
In vain through doubled Waves they strain their Eyes,
The winged Fleet looms through enclining Clouds,
Where swelling Seas seem to salute the Skies.
So the deserted Wretches saw the Sun,
For half his Race, from their Horison run:
Buried in Death like Darkness, and Despair
Ever to see him gild again their Hemisphere.
In shoals the wond'ring Sea Nymphs waft her o'er,
Aloft his Trident-Mace glad Neptune bore;
And on his Sovereign more attendance gave,
Than on the Goddess, native of the teeming Wave.
Safe she arrives on Albion her own,
Sought not, but came to save a sinking Throne;
Fill'd not her Father's, but empty an one;
Legally Vacant by Desertion.
[Page 11]Conscience, the Righteous Balance of her Breast,
Hung up the golden Scales, in this was laid
Her filial Duty, and unsullied Fame,
Heap'd with the precious Odors of her Name,
In opposite Circumference were weigh'd,
Duty to God, and to her Native Land,
All Christendom, that did her aid demand;
Europe with adamantine Chains opprest!
With Heav'n's she counterpois'd the erring World's Esteem;
The first Scale went aloft, and kick'd the oblique Beam.
Virtue triumphant now prepar'd her Throne;
Heav'n's universal Eye, in all his vast survey,
While round the wond'ring World he drives the Day;
Among Earth's glitt'ring Gods, discover'd none,
Whose sov'reign Influence came so near his own,
And Rival'd his All-animating Ray.
Discount'nanc'd Vice stood of her Eyes, in awe,
Goodness sate there enthron'd, and forc'd her to withdraw:
So amaz'd Chaos, and confounded Night
Retir'd, shot through with beamy Darts of Light.
Dark Superstition, which th'enlighten'd Reign
Of great Eliza did some Years adjourn;
Like an Egyptian Mist arose again,
And a Disease more fierce in its return;
None but Bless'd Marie could our Church secure,
Fatal Relapses are most hard to cure.
In all her Actions bright Religion shin'd,
Reform'd before, by her much more refin'd;
Of what the Priest so often Preach'd in vain,
Her daily Duties made the Practice plain,
Amidst the Cares that did the World sustain.
She ty'd the Gordian Knot of mighty War▪
To cut which all the Gallic Pow'rs despair;
War which makes a Confederate of Spain
Alone the Terror of Eliza's Reign;
Guarded the mighty States, endanger'd more
At their full growth, than Infancy before,
Attack'd by a more formidable Pow'r.
[Page 12]The Ancient Poets tell, how Heaven's great Light
Sets in the Western Ocean ev'ry Night,
This her great Reign most strangely has outdone,
Our narrow Seas saw set the Rising Sun;
While through the hissing Deep scorch'd Neptune did retire,
And chill old Ocean fear'd the Element of Fire.
Armies beheld amaz'd their Navy burn'd,
And their Maritime Towns to Bonfires turn'd:
Helpless whole Armies fring'd th' affrighted Shore,
Witness'd their dire Disgrace, and made the Conquest more.
She forc'd the French to skulk behind the Boom,
Fear like a Frost Embargoes them at home:
Vain-glorious France, who would the World o'er-bear,
Quits th'Oceans Empire▪ and turns Privateer.
None could pretend, none this perform but she,
Birth made our Venus Sov'reign of the Sea.
Easie she sate, thus on a thorny Throne,
The Wife was yearly by Queen undone;
Yet silently constraints of State obey'd,
As without jarring heav'nly Motions made.
With undisorder'd Grandeur did sustain
Severe Divorces of the dire Campaign,
Which her consorted Soul did separate;
By these Divulsions learn'd to die in State;
In Life and Death most unconcern'dly great.
Behold her in Life's last, most dismal Scene,
Behold her on her Death-bed laid,
All unconcern'd, all undismay'd!
Nor Youth, nor Love, nor rising Palaces,
Nor all Earth's gawdy Joys that used to please,
Nor sov'reign Pow'r, nor an unenvied Throne,
Nor th'Hero valu'd above any Crown,
At Death's undue Arrest concern'd our Heroine;
All, and her self more worth than all, she did resign,
As Life unsought receiv'd, unconcern' laid it down:
Heroic Courage above all Repine!
[Page 13]Fearless the Brave, bold Battles may maintain,
All are not sure, though fighting, to be slain;
Fate, pow'ring Deaths down in a leaden Show'r,
Comes unexpected, and as soon is o'er:
When Death apparent nothing can prevent,
None can be easie, but the Innocent.
She Vertues vastest compass did comprize,
And ripe for Glory Wrinkles did prevent;
Human Perfection could no higher rise,
To be accomplish'd up to Heav'n she went:
And does both earthly Grief, and heav'nly Joy augment.
Of all the Daughters of the unborn Bride,
None liv'd so faultless, none so fearless dy'd.
As when a Journy's early to be made,
All things in order over night are laid:
Certain to go, uncertain yet how soon,
Though much she had to do, she nothing left undone.
With fault'ring Words, left nothing to entreat,
Which Death might, or disord'ring Grief forget;
Whate'er for Church, or State, her mighty Mind,
(Pond'ring on their Prosperity) design'd,
Her Royal Hand left legible behind:
With that she did her sorrowing Servants grace,
And after Death her Privy-Seal takes Place.
So some great Gen'ral on whose watchful care,
The Fate of mighty Empires does depend;
Provides against the suddain Chance of War,
And does his Labours beyond Life extend.
Thus greatly good, she lived much, though not long
And left the World desirable and young:
Thus our young, matchless Mary, does excel
Ev'n her, who did admit no Parallel:
So her blest Namesake was prefer'd before
Aged Eliza, who the Baptist bore.
In both this sad Equality we find,
Neither left any like themselves behind.
Now born on Angels Wings, she does inspect
The Wonders of th'Almighty Architect;
How his Hand balanc'd th' universal Ball,
And out of empty nothing, call'd this glorious all.
Whether the Sun continually career,
Or Earth self-balanc'd, spin through yielding Air.
What secret Furnace makes the deep boil o'er,
Shackled with Sand upon the shelving Shore.
What feeds th'Ethereal Lamps that ever burn;
What Engine does the mighty Machine turn;
How Heav'ns seav'n Wand'rers their strange Rounds maintain,
Without the Mazes, that turn Mankinds Brain;
Pity's the giddy Systems that we boast,
Those Lab'rinths in which vain Philosophy is lost.
Uncertain how Immortal Inmates come
To be confin'd in Nature's narrow Room;
Uncertain how, when hence they take their flight,
They wing the radiant Regions of the Light;
If Liberty be lovely, sure 'tis best,
From the dark Prison soon to be releast:
What boots it still to run the same Careers
To see the Sun rise and set Forty Years,
By the same low Allurements still befool'd,
While Reason is by rebel Sence o'er-rul'd.
The mean Designs of trifling Life pursue,
Beguil'd by the same Phantosms drest anew!
W'are all Death's Vassals born, but when we die,
Deliver'd from that Doom, Heir Immortality:
Eas'd of Life's Load, we quit encombring Clay,
And one Night past, breaks everlasting Day.
Rise, overwhelm'd Britannia, rise; thou must
Nor stay to shake off thy condoling Dust,
Nor polish thy unshining Shield,
Twill nobler shew, when fully'd o'er
Stain'd and ensanguin'd with much Gallic Gore,
[Page 15]Thy Purple Heroe calls thee to the Field:
That Colour shews what Harvest it must yield,
Harvest of Death, which though excessive grown,
So as t' a hundred thousand to arise
(If he survive, on whom the World relies)
Will be but Cyphers added to this one!
He, whose ev'n beating Breast did never fail,
In Storms of Death surcharg'd with Iron Hail;
Who unconcern'd did in Iverna bleed,
And the grim King of Terrors still outbrave,
When dastard Death the Wound behind him gave:
Who ev'ry where defi'd his fatal Dart,
Found this stroke come too near his Heroic Heart;
On this side only Man, whence the fair Sex proceed,
Too justly griev'd for her, who did them all exceed!
Since he loath'd Life undaunted dares endure,
Bold with thy bloody Shield his sacred Head secure.
Get up, Britannia, th'ast no time to moan,
Get up, thy warlike William leads thee on:
His and thy Triumphs what can intervene,
Now thy bold Youth's indifferent to their Doom,
Victorious with their King to overcome,
Or dying, wait on their departed Queen?
Heav'n in compassion now will end the War,
That we may Life endure now she is gone,
Who did for all th' allays of Life attone!
Peace, and the Reign of such a matchless Pair,
Were Blessings for this worthless World too dear;
First Phoenix Pair the World could ever boast,
And oh too like, in that their Race is lost!
Had Heav'n been pleas'd to grant us a joint-Heir.
Of their unparallel'd Perfections, he had been
The Son of mighty Mars, and Loves all-conqu'ring Queen,
Darling of Peace, and Thunder-bolt of War.
Products so perfect, are deny'd by Fate,
Seraphic Angels never propagate!
As the dumb Son, affrighted when he saw
The Villain, on his Monarch-Father draw,
The Ligature that tied his Tongue up, tore,
And spoke aloud, who never spoke before:
I, who the various Tides and Turns of State,
All-unconcern'd in silence bore;
When I beheld untimely Fate,
Lay his cold, o'erhasty hand,
Upon the Royal Mother of our Land,
Could not forbear to burst and rore,
And write dismay'd, who wrote not heretofore.
The meanest Tribute to vast Vertue due,
Both from a Subject and a Servant too;
That I presume upon her Royal Herse,
To hang so mean, such an ignoble Verse,
Pardon me, Mighty Monarch, and believe
Many may better write, none more sincerely grieve;
Poems demand a Mind entire at case;
In vain do wretched Writers hope to please.

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