A POEM TO THE QUEEN, UPON The KING's Victory IN IRELAND, AND HIS Voyage to HOLLAND.
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Euripides.
OXFORD, Printed by Leonard Lichfield, for John Wilmot, 1691.
TO The Highly Honour'd, THE Lady M. S.
MADAM,
WHEN I sent you this Poem in Manuscript (an account how I spend my time; being a Tribute you always exact from me) you were pleas'd to return it with a very harsh Request that I should Print it. I cannot hinder my self from saying, that it is somewhat Tyranical, and very much like the French Monarch, who imposeth a fresh Gabelle upon his Vassals, when they are burden'd with Taxes sufficiently before; but since you have provok'd me to be an Author, I'le assure you it is at your own peril, for I'le haunt you with Panegyrick, and tease you with the Commendation of your self: Nay, I could pursue my Revenge farther, by pulling off your Mask, and discovering to the world who you are; and so make a reprisal upon your Modesty for disturbing my Solitude. If I follow'd the common Mode of Dedications, I should declare, That all the scatter'd Excellencies of your Sex are united in your single Self; which like the Sun-beams contracted in a Burning-glass, forbid too familiar an approach: But there must be a distance to allay the brightness, that it may be a gentle, and to me, MADAM, I hope a most auspicious Influence: however I can affirm with great truth, That your Complexion is of the first and most elaborate blush, not farded with Art, but a genuine native mixture; and your Genius is as refin'd as your Person: You are neither a Coquette nor a Precieuse; neither a vain Talker, nor an affected Wit: I only fear that your enjoyning the Publication of this Trifle, will be the first time that ever your Judgment was called in question. Whilst other Ladies are taken up with their Toilette and Looking-glass, you are employ'd in reading the best Authors; and not only so, but in an happy Imitation of them: This your several Composures would manifest to the world, if you would think them worthy to see the light; but you are obstinate against all Solicitations of that [Page]nature; so that it must be a Posthumous work, and the care of an Executor. But let me tell you, MADAM, you in the mean while defraud the World of what would benefit and enrich it, and we shall cast but a doleful regard upon the Copy when the Original is gone: I know not any One to whom these Verses may be more properly apply'd, than to your self.
Non tu Corpus eras sine pectore, Dii tibi formam
Dii tibi divitias dederint artemque fruendi.
I am very sensible, MADAM, of the absurdity to speak Latin in a Ladies presence, but I am sure you understand it; and for the sake of those who do not, I will translate them after my way, that is somewhat Paraphrastically.
MADAM, the Gods did smile when you were Born,
And you an Heavenly Beauty doth adorn;
You with a Mind as elegant are blest,
The House is suited to the noble Guest;
A Soul degenerate doth not it disgrace,
(Like a Brass Watch within a Silver Case)
And Jove doth court you in a Golden Shower,
Into your Lap doth mighty Treasures pour;
And you profusely don't the Gifts employ,
You have the Art those Riches to enjoy.
Your Charity, MADAM, as it is very diffusive, so it is that of the best kind; which conveys Relief privately to the afflicted: You don't make a pompous invitation of the Poor into your great Hall, where they eat with constraint, and tremble under their Benefactors: this is not to succor but expose their Wants; like a shallow River it makes a noise with Ostentation; but your Bounty spreads in Cascade, and is very gentle in its descent: 'tis like a refreshing Dew that falls silently, and in the Night. Tho' some affirm that Wit and Courage are inconsistent; yet in you, MADAM, they are reconcil'd; and you are Heroical as well as Ingenuous: For give me leave to remember, That upon the first Landing of our Glorious KING, you were touch'd with a more than ordinary Joy; nay, You once resolv'd to do that Honor to our Sex, by dissembling your Own, as to disguise your self En Cavalier, and go in to the Prince: Then, MADAM, you would have appear'd like the Goddess of Wisdome, with your Spear and Shield; or like another Boadicia, Fighting against Romans too, in vindication of your injur'd Country. You always had an untainted prospect [Page]of Affairs, and foretold that the heat Things were push'd up to, would end either in absolute Slavery, or a mighty Deliverance; and the success hath justified the better part of the Augury: For whilst this poor Nation was in the last defailances of Spirit, NASSAU, like a good Samaritan, pour'd a Sovereign Balsome into her Wounds; and restor'd a distress'd and almost an abandon'd Church, which had fall'n into the hands not only of Forreign, but Domestick Thieves: Amongst many others which I could name, this is a conspicuous instance of your Prudence; that when you liv'd in a place where the Genius of it is Calumny, and where Weeds only thrive and grow luxuriant, but there's a Malignity in the Air which destroys all generous Plants; yet even there the most envious and inquisitive had nothing to object to your Conduct: Nay once, MADAM, you fell Sick, and they did not count it a Judgment, tho' this is their usual way of executing their Piques; they will wound you in the most sensible parts of your Fortune and Reputation, and then entitle Heaven to their own Treachery and Malice: There was but one time wherein I heard you but so much as slightly tax'd, and that was when a celebrated Man for voice and gesture, like a travelling Shower, came to spend his Tropes and Figures upon an Audience where you were in, when the rest of your Sex were in Tears your Eyes were observ'd to be dry: Yet this did not proceed from want of tenderness in your Temper, but it was an effect of your Judgment; for you distinguish'd the Enthusiast from the true Orator: You have often declaim'd against this rapturous way of talking, as the most frivolous, so the easiest attainment possible; for the Man of this talent when he is a little put to it for sense, he hath alwaies recourse to warm Topicks in reserve, which bring him in again. Methought you compar'd an extempore Harangue very prettily to weak Wine upon the fret, which gives a brisk relish upon the Palate, and then dies upon it; whilst a studied Discourse, like Liquor drawn out of an old consular Vessel, hath a strong body, and conveys a practical heat to the Conscience: You must know, MADAM, that this Gentleman hath deriv'd all his Eloquence from your Sex, for being kindled with an Amour in his youth, his Imagination hath not been cool ever since; and now he applies all the strains of a prophane Passion to a divine Object; and the Affection he could not gain in the Ruelle, he endeavours to captivate in the Pulpit: As in a Catholick Country, a disgrac'd Lover always turns Capuchine; and the most zealous [Page]Votary in a Convent is he that hath lost his Mistress. Mendoza the Spaniard, MADAM, hath a very severe Expression; El ambicion de la emprenta es una colpa que non basta arrepentirse; That the ambition to be in Print is a fault for which repentance can be no sufficient expiation: Now besides the presumption of the attempt, I am conscious of a great many defects in this Poem; there are flaws in the Conduct of it, and the Characters are not work'd up with that vigor of thought and stile as they ought to be: but as I was never equal to such a performance, so at present I labour under a great decay of Spirits; being but slowly recovering of those Wounds the iniquity of some Mens proceedings have given me: Besides, MADAM, you know, I was always a Dreamer; and one who, for want of better Company, generally converseth with himself: we lose our selves in our own Labyrinths, and weaken the powers of our Mind by too much thinking: I am sensible it is an Humor not to be indulg'd, for with the least incouragement it grows headstrong, and becomes frequent in its Accesses; and tho' the lucid Intervals, as they call them, when the Clouds are dispers'd, are I believe more sprightly then the softest Moments of any other Men whatever; yet they do not recompence for the Fears and Sadnesses which are incident to this condition at all other times. This, MADAM, I have often lamented to you, and you have been so kind as to mix your Condolances with my Complaints: It hath this peculiarly unhappy, That as it discolours those Objects to us which strike others with an agreeable light; so it subjects all that we say or do to mistakes; a little neglect in our Behaviour is censur'd to be Pride; and that unwieldiness it loads us with, is call'd an affected Sloth; tho' it is impossible to be assiduous and eager in the pursuit of that we fancy we can take no pleasure in: But it was never so dark with me yet, but I could distinguish my Friends, and take the right measure of their Obligations: Those I have receiv'd from you, MADAM, are lodg'd in a distinct Archive, with the marks of a particular Esteem; for I am with the deepest Respect possible, for your Person and great Endowments,
Your LADYSHIPS, Most Humble, and Obedient Servant, MATT. MORGAN.
To the QUEEN.
MADAM, with eager Joy your Conqueror meet,
He comes to lay his Laurels at your Feet;
Who in his absence made our Troubles cease,
Present him now with Olive-wreaths of Peace;
Let Garlands crown him at his finish'd race,
He is your Prisoner in a strict embrace:
Tho' he escap'd the Dangers of the War,
The Wounds you give leave an immortal Scar:
We with swift motion to the Center move,
Danger endears us unto those we love:
Nothing's so gay as dissipated fear,
When beauteous Sun-shine doth refract the tear;
For when the Bullet in its wanton scope
Was like to have destroy'd all Europe's Hope;
Your Soul was clouded with a dark presage,
Did feel, almost anticipate its rage:
It touch'd his Shoulder, but it pierc'd your Heart,
Your quick resentment did intend the smart:
Like tuneful Unisons what him did strike,
Did equally affect your string of life,
The bleeding Husband, and condoling Wife!
With a divided Empire you did Reign,
And each the Province gallantly maintain;
Whilst Caesar did destroy the Irish Hosts,
Calphurnia drove the French-men from our Coasts;
They valiantly attack'd a naked Shore,
Like Faulcons unreclaim'd did wildly soar;
Herostratus a Cottage set on fire,
And when the Thatch blaz'd out he did retire:
The ancient Argonauts did sail from Greece
In Triumph, to bring home the Golden Fleece:
But they our bleating Captives took away,
'Twas like the Victors an ignoble prey;
But when we arm'd their Insolence to chastise,
With hasty Sails their abject Navy flies;
We'll scourge these false and domineering Braves,
A Whip held up shall quell this War of Slaves:
Encroaching Kings did by degrees obtrude
Upon their easy Necks this Servitude;
And their Despotick Government did rise
Upon the Peoples ruin'd Liberties:
Lewis th' Eleventh strip'd the noble Tree,
Whose stanchest Maxim was Hypocrisie;
His Faith he at the vilest price did sell,
And all his Art was to Dissemble well:
He bragg'd that Minor France he made of Age,
And brought the drivling Kingdome * Hors de Page;
But him a faithless Guardian we call,
Who with his Pupils Rents turns Prodigal;
For at his Fortune he arrives too late,
For when he is Mature there's no Estate;
But it receiv'd a more consummate Fall
Under that Cruel, Meager Cardinal;
Whose Purple with Patritian Blood was dy'd,
And Treachery was mix'd up with his Pride:
'Twas he that did his barbarous Arts employ,
The World in mutual Conflicts to destroy.
Caesar such spiteful Ministers forsook,
He would have him discarded for his look;
For he did more in Anthony delight,
Because he lov'd and revel'd all the Night;
Who in great Luxuries himself did soothe
His Body full, and all his Features smooth;
But he did hate a lean and envious Race,
He abhor'd Cassius for his plotting Face:
But this last Hand their Ruine doth compleat,
He's with the Spoyl of ravag'd Cities, Great;
And when whole Provinces do wasted lye,
They call that Solitude his Victory;
And now his Image they fall down before,
Bernini made the God they do adore;
Unto his Statue they do Incense burn,
The Marble Hero doth whole Nations spurn.
Spain to Augustus did an Altar raise,
As an Eternal Monument of Praise;
But frugal Sacrifice they did bestow,
For at its Foot a Laurel once did grow:
They did applaud the Omen of the Tree,
Of course it must portend a Victory;
He check'd their Paeans, and reprov'd their Sloth,
For constant Firing would have spoil'd its growth:
But here the Votaries incur no blame,
They with obsequious Oyl still imp the Flame:
'Tis the distinguishing Character of France,
Their Falshood's cover'd under Complaisance;
Their Wisdome's Craft, their Wit is being Loud,
Haughty when Prosperous, when Afflicted Proud:
Slaves by Tradition, and they can't refuse,
Salt without Meat, and Toil in wooden Shoes;
They clink at every Step they do advance,
Jolly they are, but they in Fetters dance;
Gloire in their empty Cottages doth rebound,
They live on great Reports, are fed with Sound:
This Country is the Rendezvous of Boys,
They return laded with St. Germain's Toys:
He at his Native Customes fiercely rails,
And all he boasts is Louvre and Versailles:
He chatters on, and all things talks by rote,
Like unfledg'd Preachers who the Fathers quote;
He learns to flatter, and unlearns to blush,
Accomplish'd is his Comb, well-bred his Snush:
His sober Looks are chang'd into Grimace,
And new impressions do the old efface;
As Cartes did his Candidates advise,
To strip themselves of all their prejudice;
To blot out the Ideas of their Mind,
Not the least trace of Notion leave behind:
Or else they were not adequately fit
For all the Resveries of his towring Wit;
So of what's Solid you must him devest,
E're he into a Monsieur can be drest:
We'd give the Traveller leave to be a Fop
With great Impunity, if he there would stop;
But he grows Wise, in Politicks refines,
His Land disgraceth first, then undermines;
He pierceth farther thro' the Alpes to Rome,
He goes, but he may safer stay at Home:
For Poyson there is exquisitely made,
And all their false Religion is a Trade:
This is the Forge of all their holy Leagues,
Where Popes are chose by Secular Intrigues;
'Tis the beloved Interest doth the feat,
Conscience the Fucus doth but smooth the cheat.
So of all Dogs the Mastiff is the prime,
A fierceness hath peculiar to the Clime;
He with arm'd Teeth on obvious Foes doth fall,
And with loud Threatnings fills the spacious Hall:
With a strict Paw and vigilant Eye doth watch
The Guardian of the solitary Thatch;
But if transported into Forreign Earth,
He Vappid grows, and doth disgrace his Birth;
Forgets the inbred Virtue of his Sires,
Who scorn'd Supiness before Country Fires:
But were inflicting Wounds in open Field,
And made the Curs of lesser Nations yield.
He generous was when he on Flesh did feed,
But Quelques Choses always spoil the English Breed:
No more with harsh Alarms the Campagne rings,
For he Barks shriller than an Eunuch Sings;
Their active Envoys here did sow their Tares,
And the unwary fell into their Snares:
All critical Occasions they did wait,
For each Complexion laid a different Bait.
When the Ressortes of their Machine did play,
They fir'd the Pile their Face another way:
All things to vile Constructions they did draw,
Corrupted Gospel, and perverted Law;
Our Hopes eluded, ridicul'd our Fears,
Our Sighs they tax'd, and did proscribe our Tears:
The feeble Stream did to a Torrent rise,
Swell'd with the tribute of their Flatteries:
The Lewd they did with secret Favours please,
The Slothful they enervated with Ease;
So large a Dose of Opium they did take,
Nothing but Smithfield Fires could them awake;
So strong a Lethargy did their Spirits seize,
Nothing could cure but actual Canteries;
Some they did Menace, others they did Bribe,
There always is a Mercenary Tribe.
So Monsieur Pelisson did keep a Court,
To which the hungry Converts did resort:
There in full Heaps the Louis d'ors were told,
For so much Proselyte there was so much Gold.
They at an Auction did their Faith abjure,
The dastard Quarry stoop'd unto the Lure:
These to the Conqueror are still ally'd,
Shifting the Gallican and Austrian Side;
For still as either Interest doth prevail,
They to be sure fall in and sink the Scale,
They'll buy a Lapland Wind to fill the Sail:
They have a Tithe in all the Blood that's spilt,
Their Holy hands do Consecrate the Guilt.
This with extravagance of Zeal was done,
Zeal is the frenzy of Religion,
As its soft place is Superstition.
They should have liv'd in Old Caligula's days,
He unto Flamen-ships their Pride might raise;
Who wish'd the Roman Empire in a Yoke,
To cut it off at one imperious Stroke:
They on his Rage a barbarous Edge might put,
Tho' dull themselves they have no power to Cut;
With an officious diligence give the Knife,
Whilst he destroy'd that complicated Life:
When Subjects both of Church and State were gone,
The Tyrant and his Priests might reign alone:
Then Rhadamanthus did his Poysons shed,
And like a Basilisk look'd the Pris'ner dead:
With a Rapacious hand, and Furies face,
Prophan'd the Bench, did desecrate the place,
Where sat the Reverend Sages of the Law,
Whose Age did with their Learning strike an awe,
And mild Behaviour did Affection draw.
He quarrel'd with himself, at Mankind rail'd,
Scurrility was a Weapon never fail'd,
Upon such spurious Orators entail'd.
Yet tho' he was of that Gigantick size,
He cramp'd himself into a mean disguise;
And his last Stake would venture on the Sea,
An Element less turbulent than he:
But let the Goat now browse upon the Vine,
As if he would destroy the future Wine;
Yet at the Altar there's enough to shed,
Betwixt the Horns on his devoted Head:
Nothing but Dirt you can expect from Mud,
And that in him was kneaded up with Bloud.
So when a flash of Lightning he espy'd,
The sneaking Roman Emperor did hide:
He in a Fright at last was downward sent,
(The greatest Cowards are the Insolent)
He trembled Waking, and did doze his Sleep,
At last the Vermine thro' an Hole did creep:
But all defects of Right are now supply'd,
By Him who in the roughest Times was try'd;
Who stoutly, and almost alone withstood,
The Risings of that Arbitrary Flood,
Before it had the Limits overflown,
And all our ancient Properties did drown.
He at a deep-mouth'd Pack did stand at Bay,
And threw them off as fast as they did play;
Made for the City Charter a Defence,
With all the Nerves of Manly Eloquence,
Words were Ambitious to express such Sense.
Some faithless Men did violate their Trust,
Aggressors were on their Fore-fathers Dust;
Where they should make a stand, they did submit,
And tamely yielded what they should transmit;
They would not let the Fruit an Offering be,
But like the Peasant they pluck'd up the Tree.
A luscious tho' a very servile Pen,
Did poorly Celebrate these worst of Men;
The Blot indelible which did it stain,
He call'd the greatest Glory of a Reign:
For their blind Zeal a subtle Bait was laid,
For a French Soupe their Birth-rights they betray'd.
'Twas then the Ornament of our Nation fell,
(Who can his Tragedy without Weeping tell?)
Solemn as Age, He chearful was as Youth,
His Soul was Virtue, and his Words were Truth:
All without Affectation he did treat,
Kind without Fraud, without Ambition, Great;
No Country with a Braver Man was blest,
He was in all Capacities the Best:
Kingdomes might justly for him be at Strife,
(He lov'd his Country better than his Life.)
His aged Father lost a Glorious Son,
Who had thro' all degrees of Honor run.
His faithful Wife a mournful Farewel took,
And still Regretted with a parting look;
She with strong Tears did deprecate his Grave,
The great Southampton's Daughter could not save:
His Children next their Duty did address,
The Hand they Kiss'd did in requital Bless;
Still he was haunted with the Men in Black,
Who with false Arguments did his Soul attack;
Would force his latest Moments to receive
A Doctrine which themselves did not believe:
At least they never practic'd.—
Him with their Milk-sop Principle did tease,
And would not let him Dye who liv'd in Peace:
For being a Patriot they spill'd his Blood,
He Dy'd like Socrates for being Good.
The English what they are do still appear,
(The plainest Humor still is most sincere)
The Crasis of their Genius is such,
They always well, but sometimes think too much:
He like an Hospitable Lord doth treat,
Others may feast on his superfluous Meat;
Drink with the overflowings of his Cup,
And his wast Thoughts will set an Author up:
When like a Diamond he doth polish it,
'Tis a rich Stock, the Filings of his Wit;
The Water's splendid, and the Foil is dark,
And a true Lustre shines in every spark:
He is not singular, doth not write Essays
On purpose to discredit his own Days.
Great Affectation in the labour shines,
We scorn his Brachmans and his Mandarines;
Our Virtue in a finer Mould is wrought,
Purer then all his Naked Indians taught:
Our Laws compact, our Government is wise,
But stiff Formalities we do despise.
He doth defraud great Authors of their due,
Or them he doth contemn, or never knew:
Harvey's bright Reputation doth attack,
When his Chinese Physitian is a Quack;
Doth leave untouch'd Gassendus learned Toil,
And of all Philosophers the sweetest, Boyle:
His Ancestors he scarce his own doth call,
For he's Himself a great Original.
For Birth he's not ambitious to be known,
But his Experiments are all his own;
With a Promethean, Chymick Heat inspir'd,
All things are from Himself, and not acquir'd:
And to decide, the World is in Suspense,
Which greater is his Piety or Sense.
Hobbs to be sure is foremost of the List,
But he omits his great Antagonist,
Who hath so many Learned Volumes writ,
Not to be fathom'd with his fleering Wit:
He with mysterious Numbers fills each Page,
And is the Archimedes of the Age.
Hobbs altho' trod upon yet still would Bite,
And baffl'd had the Impudence to Write:
His boasted Penetration went not far,
His Atheisme only made him Popular;
For he of Libertines did lead the Van,
And only did old Heresies Japan:
Rather a lasting Pyramid of Disgrace,
Where he was Born should signalize the place,
With Capital Inscriptions of his Fault,
His very Memory should be raz'd with Salt.
The ancient Musick was an Oaken Reed,
When Mopsa listen'd, or the Flocks did feed;
Amphion they for Wisdome did admire,
Only in Metaphor he touch'd his Lyre:
For a great Legislator he became,
And did with Laws their savage Manners tame:
What's more complaining than the Lover's Flute?
And what's more sweet and learned than the Lute?
It doth in high Imperial Strains command,
And is not fit for every Vulgar Hand;
He must have deep, and Mathematick skill,
Who can the Chords with a true Measure fill:
What Passions can't the noble Wood excite,
To make us Serious, or move Delight?
In mournful Accents chiefly doth prevail,
A Widow 'tis which doth the Dead bewail,
Her Beauty shines the brighter thro' the Veil.
Now the severest Remedies apply,
He is far gone in Etymology:
H' hath all the Symptoms of a Feaverish Wit,
But now he is outragious in his Fit;
For he his Runick Poetry would obtrude,
Tho' like their Country it was very rude:
The Goths like Locusts every where were seen,
And all things they destroy'd of fresh and green;
They o're the World did like Banditi rove,
All Learning to extirpate, not improve:
So a shrewd Author in conjecture Wise,
Hath prov'd his Sweden to be Paradise:
To all the World that Country he prefers,
And our first Parents hath made Laplanders.
Judicious Spencer shakes his Reverend Head,
Depress'd when living, slighted now he's dead:
Passionate Tasso doth almost Blaspheme,
To see aspers'd his great Jerusalem:
The Colour's lively and the Flesh is sound,
'Tis Gold Embroidery on a Purple Ground:
Marini can't be angry, but doth smile,
His Humour is as charming as his Stile:
A Table richly spread you there enjoy;
Tho' all desert the Dainties do not cloy:
The least resenting he provoketh most,
'Tis the Ingenuous, Candid Cowley's Ghost:
He did complain of Fame's inconstant Breath,
And he is robb'd of that too after Death:
His Davideis merits a first place,
The Body's strong, and sprightly is the Race:
'Tis solid sense in vehicle of Rime;
As Ovid sweet, like Virgil is sublime:
If Nature had but lengthned out his Span,
Cham's had exceeded far the Mantuan Swan:
For a begg'd Lunatick he needs must pass,
Who prefers Rabelais unto Hudibras.
An Edge-hill Souldier where some Blood was spilt,
Cries up the Target, and the Basket Hilt;
Upon his Arm shews an old-fashion'd Scar,
But damns our modern Discipline of War:
So an Old Woman at her times doth rail,
Commends the Velvet-hood and Farthingale;
But the Commode and Top-knot doth decry
Where now the Head is rear'd three Stories high:
But He his own Idaeas doth confute,
The Ancients still must yield to him in fruit:
Like Dioclesian He his hours doth wast
In Gardens, to impose upon our Tast:
And each Opinion's false that is not His,
A Tyrant like his spurious Phalaris.
The very Names would Columella fright,
He doth with Labyrinths perplex our sight:
here the Quincuncial Lozenges are seen;
There never was such Fruit as is at Sheen.
Pardon me, MADAM, if these words are us'd
To vindicate an Age that is traduc'd;
And such an one Augustus would have chus'd.
England in Miniature doth the World contain;
All things are Great where You vouchsafe to Reign:
England to Tyranny doth set the Bars,
And is the Arbiter of Forreign Wars:
Rational Duty to their Kings is shown,
Fear is the worst Supporter of a Throne;
When it breaks out into a publick Hate,
To be Complyant then it is too late:
They're justly balanc'd betwixt each extreme,
The Frenchman's Levity, and Spaniard's Phlegme.
They the Ingredients in right temper have,
As gay as Athens, and like Sparta, grave;
Tho' these did in Formality exceed,
Their adust Choler did Moroseness breed:
The Man look'd sad, and did in method walk,
Wise in his Nods, but frugal of his Talk;
In a Laconick Syllable he speaks,
These were the Puritans amongst the Greeks:
Admir'd themselves, despis'd the World beside,
Their Talk was Calumny, and Silence, Pride;
Their Laughter was Hypocrisy disguis'd,
And Merit, tho' it serv'd them, never priz'd:
They to promote their politick ends of State,
Did shift alternately their Love and Hate:
On trivial Matters they insisted long,
Were obstinate and positive in the wrong;
They to great Torments did themselves inure,
All things but Contradiction could endure;
For you might lash these Stoicks till they bled,
Their Body Iron, and their Soul was Lead.
Our Nobles Courteous, Valiant are, and Wise,
Tenacious of their ancient Liberties;
And great Immunities do the People bless,
(Oh if they did but know their Happiness!)
Wise and rich Senators them represent,
And they are Govern'd by their own Consent:
Nay, the industrious Owner of the Flail,
A Freedome claims by vertue of Entail;
They great Supplies do with Affection bring,
And give their Hearts up with the Offering:
He doth their Chearfulness with Thanks approve,
And with Protection doth repay their Love.
Just so in Lombardy that fruitful Land,
Where Nature sows with no illiberal Hand;
A well-proportion'd Elme sustains the Vine,
In mutual Embraces they combine,
And Strength and Beauty do together joyn:
The Fruit refresheth, and the Shade delights,
With grateful Clusters its support requites.
But Coward! Oh the infamous Disgrace!
That Stigma ne're was fix'd on English Race:
It is enough to baffle that Report,
To mention Poitiers-Field, and Agen-Court;
Where a whole Nation was a Captive made,
Each Souldier Pris'ner had a whole Brigade.
Let Cavendish and Hawkins now revive,
Methinks I see Old Frobisher alive;
He riseth to assert our tarnish'd Fame,
His Mouth is foam, and both his Eyes are flame:
Drake's artificial Thunder then should roar,
Their tawdry Ships should by his Guns be tore;
He first invented that compendious way,
With an ex tempore, floating Death to slay:
Their rotten Carcasses should then expire,
In towring Pyramids of Nitrous fire.
But where shall we another Ossory have,
Who was cropt off by an untimely Grave?
A Mulct upon the Witty and the Brave:
In Times untroubl'd was Mankind's Delight,
And equally their Terror in a Fight;
He Govern'd mildly, fiercely did Command,
Peace in his looks, and Vengeance in his hand.
In his Illustrious Son he doth survive,
Who doth his Virtues with his Blood derive;
With equal steps of Honor thou may'st run,
But thy great Father ne're can be out-done.
Fortune did from her Caesar now divide,
Like Labienus turn'd to Pompey's side:
At Sea to Conquer is our ancient Right,
And there for our Inheritance we Fight;
But she like that, her self Inconstant shows,
And as the Ocean, hath her Ebbs and Flows.
But we our blemish'd Honor will regain,
With Tracts of Blood we'll chase them thro' the Main:
Nay, the Fubs-yatch shall their great Admiral hail,
He to her Flag shall strike his lofty Sail.
Tho' in that Element we were distrest,
The Land repair'd the wrong with Interest:
With actual Slaughter did retort their Boasts,
And for their empty Smoak we sent them Ghosts.
Who's qualify'd to tell that strange Defeat?
Pharsalia should be writ with Lucan's heat:
In a true light who can the Battle show?
Fit for the Traits of hardy Angelo:
Raphael a softer Deity invokes,
But he dash'd strong, and aim'd at mighty strokes:
Let him the Efforts of his Genius try,
Mix on the Pallette his Ingredients high;
But chiefly let him heighten up the Red,
To paint the Blood in large effusions shed;
Then pleat the Armor in a curious fold,
And the deep Shadows burnish o're with Gold;
Then let him scatter a more florid Light,
And set off all with Prominence to the sight:
But to describe the generous Horses rage,
Breathing out Fire, impatient to engage;
The Pencil thrown at randome does that part,
And Chance shall finish what's deny'd to Art.
Death doth in several shapes it self disguise,
In a disploded Globe of Fire it flies,
And with a Cynick Spasme the Souldier dies:
With his last Anger he tears up the Ground,
His Soul is summon'd to attend the Wound;
This tender being every Fit doth seize,
Lies at the mercy of each slight Disease;
A Feaver burns it, and an Ague shakes,
Morbid impressions from the Body takes:
And here the fatal Shot its powers doth reach,
It makes a Sally at an open Breach;
But single Fate no pensive Eye bemoans,
These are Preludiums to deeper Groans:
For by the Canon Cohorts are destroy'd,
The Earth regorgeth with the Slaughter cloy'd.
Now draw our flaming Heroe on the Banks,
Expos'd to Death the foremost of the Ranks;
Where Wounds the thickest flew he still was seen,
And nothing left of Victory to glean:
Then all the Troops in a close order joyn,
On the unfaithful Marble of the Boyne.
Auspicious Heaven to the Bold's a Friend,
Against two Elements they do contend;
Whilst of the Waters they the Depths explore,
A swift-wing'd Fire comes wounding from the Shore:
The Work grows warm, discolour'd is the Flood,
The tinctur'd Waves swell higher with the Blood;
Tho' deeply gash'd yet still they persevere,
Veterane Souldiers know not how to fear:
The Danger's near, they are upon the brink,
Their Courage buoys them up, they cannot sink.
The flying Mischief doth not always hit,
For sometimes a good Genius frustrates it;
And interposing doth divert the Blow,
In vain it murmurs then, in vain doth glow:
But it doth like a blust'ring Meteor rise,
It a false Terror gives, and then it dies,
It only huffs the Bully of the Skies:
Or as the Antients thought the Sun did drown
When it did Set, and hiss'd when it went Down;
It in the watry Region doth command.
And Fish are Massacr'd at second hand:
So Caesar whom no Element could confine,
Nor Danger ever stopt, thus pass'd the Rhine:
He with large Beams the River Captive made,
And curb'd its Fury with a strong Steccade:
He Warr'd in Britain, Germany, and Gaul,
And did return Unwounded from them all:
But the Pellaean Youth great Risques did run,
Tho' he adopted was great Ammon's Son:
For at the Oxydraques his chief Renown,
Where he did single fight against a Town;
Two Javelins did his mighty Spirit check,
One in his Shoulder, t'other in his Neck:
He at the Granick did a Blow receive,
A vulgar Hatchet did his Helmet cleave;
His Head it left unhurt, that Sacred part;
At Gaza he was wounded with a Dart:
When Swords did cut him, and the Slings did maim,
His Heavenly Parentage he did disclaim;
From that Enthusiastick Dream was freed,
He thought himself no God when he did bleed:
The Granick could not stop his youthful rage,
Of a soft Nation made a great Carnage:
Apparently he had the weaker side,
But that defect with Courage was supply'd.
In all great Actions there is something rash,
As generous Wine's diluted with a dash;
If the concerted Measures do succeed,
Th' Event applauds it for a glorious Deed:
As 'tis the plague of an ingenious Mind,
That unto Madness it is oft inclin'd;
The Fancy an Ecstatick Rapture feels,
And the brisk circulation fires the Wheels.
We in Great WILLIAM his Example see,
His Valour hath, but from his Vices free;
Intemperance that split him was the Shelf,
And then he did degenerate from himself;
His later Life his former did reproach,
When his great Soul did sink into Debauch.
To gain their Breath now let the Souldiers halt,
Then make the Guns against their Foes revolt:
'Tis a Sedition terrible and new,
Their very Mortars now prove Rebels too:
Let the Pretorian Guards now make a stand,
'Tis like the Persian's immortal Band;
Or like that Company which never yields,
Whose Men have Hearts of Brass, and Silver Shields.
The Irish leave their Bogs, and shew their Face,
And with arm'd Squadrons fill an empty space:
They are the Off-spring of weak-hearted Men,
The plastick Egg was from a Dunghil-Hen;
Their sluggish Customes with Religion keep,
They're Country bleats, their Ancestors were Sheep:
With Punick Faith they flatter and deceive,
Impostures ne're so gross they will believe:
Their Talk with Solaecisme doth still abound,
And they will stumble upon Carpet-ground;
Shoes they have none, are clad in Native Freeze,
The ancient Nomades were these Rapperies:
The Sun doth Vapors from their Swamps exhale,
But still their weight doth o're his Beams prevail;
Too heavy for his Chariot to bear,
He's forc'd to drop them in the Atmosphere;
With their moist Fleeces it is always full,
And this Baeotian Air doth make them dull:
So that betwixt two constant Plagues they move,
Morasse below, and weeping Clouds above.
To pierce the dark Retreats where they did lurk,
Before was Labour, 'twas the mighty Work:
A kind, protecting Shrub, they shrunk behind,
'Twas easier to Conquer them, than to find;
Nay, on the Surface they were rarely found,
They liv'd like Troglodites, all under-ground:
To kill them scarce a Triumph doth afford,
Ignoble Blood pollutes the Victor's Sword.
So great Aemilius, Perseus did despise,
And when he Kneel'd, in scorn he bid him rise;
With too much ease he did the Glory reap,
His Baseness made the Victory too cheap:
The knotty Oak is worthy of the Wedge,
The passive Willow only dulls the Edge.
Now paint two fierce Competitors for Fame,
Vers'd in the Sleights of this inhumane Game:
If thy ingenious Art can fix a Sound,
Eccho which doth in hollow Vaults rebound;
Draw the Upbraidings which they first do throw,
And them they urge with a Reprisal-blow;
The velitary Skirmish is with Words,
But the Triarian Weapons are their Swords.
The Knot is cut which could not be unty'd,
The Rivals fall by one another's side;
He doth himself with his Revenge confound,
Stabs, but his Purple Soul leaves in the Wound:
That and the Body are at mutual strife,
When Death approacheth the Frontiers of Life;
How to elude its Force it cannot tell,
It must evacuate the Cittadel:
Death takes possession of the batter'd place,
Slights all the Lines, and doth the Works deface;
Martial Encounters they are glad to see,
Disease is an unequal Enemy:
Tho' this thro' all the Field did strike a damp,
It was a Charnel-house, and not a Camp:
Here he his Court like Eastern Monarchs keeps,
He Triumphs in the midst of slaughter'd Heaps.
Old Masinissa in a Rage doth cry,
Let my brave Souldiers Fight before they Dye:
No Mortal yet that Skeleton withstood,
Nothing can Conquer them that's Flesh and Blood.
He scarce from Execrations can refrain,
Demands of Death his Legions back again:
Their Veins did with distemper'd Pulses beat,
Blood that was kindled with the Summer's heat
Now in the streightned Passages it swells,
Like to proud Monks within their narrow Cells;
Is clog'd with Heterogeneous Particles.
They like a Friend do not a Visit make,
But like rude Tartars do Free-quarter take;
For there they fix a riotous Abode,
The stream of Life with forreign Mixtures load:
Upon it they do violent Torments lay,
And force it with themselves to come away.
Now like Autumnal Wine it doth ferment,
But its Impurities not having vent,
Unto the sharp Intestines they are sent:
There thro' the Arteries they find open Dores,
Whilst the dull Air doth Constipate the Pores:
Tortion the Nervous Fibres doth molest,
The Carneous with Convulsive throws opprest;
These racking Pains the Patient waking keep,
And all their Opiates can't procure him Sleep:
In vain their Stiptick Remedies they put,
They can't the Mouths of gaping Vessels shut:
His Spirits quite decay'd, he weltring lies,
And when the Blood is all drain'd out, he Dies.
Now the Clinquant and well-drest Volunteer,
Wisheth for Armour, and begins to fear;
Death is a frightful Spectacle when near.
He scorns to fight for Mercenary pay,
But gratis comes to throw his Life away:
He is distinguish'd by his gawdy Plumes,
His Fortune all in Equipage consumes,
And the Pursuers trace him by Perfumes:
They at his Face their murd'ring Piles do hurl,
They storm his Locks, and put them out of Curl:
A Crimson Wound into his Bosome flies,
And pierceth deeper than Corinna's Eyes;
Nay, in Ritratto her it doth deface,
It breaks her Image in a Chrystal Case;
With Lockets of her Chesnut-hair 'tis set,
But for her Lover a weak Amulet:
For against Fate it can't his Breast defend;
In Death we are forsaken by our Friend:
This doth so fast unto the Fortress climb,
To write a Billet doux he hath not time:
With his last Sigh he doth invoke her Name,
And now is Martyr'd in a fiercer Flame:
Before he only had a modish Blot,
But now he is all o're a Powder-spot:
The Palpitations of his Heart doth quell,
Ah Lycidas! Poor Lycidas thus fell.
Shomberg doth now his ancient Prowess show,
His Courage stagnated begins to flow;
He prodigal of Wounds doth now repay,
With Usury his Phlegmatick delay.
So Hannibal did the Cunctator dread,
He like a Tempest hover'd o're his Head;
He always did suspect that hanging Shower,
Would fall at last, and like a Torrent pour;
Altho' it look'd so quiet on the Hill,
It did the Fields with Inundations fill:
He in the World had tarried now so late,
He seem'd indulg'd as an exempt of Fate:
His reverend Hairs the Assassines should surprise,
As they were daunted once with Marius Eyes:
In those black Orbs Intelligences rowl,
They are the polisht Mirrors of the Soul.
The Gauls in their Pursuits relentless are,
And Age their Ancestors did never spare;
That they the Gates were enter'd, when they heard,
The Senate to the Capitol repair'd;
And there like Romans did expect their Fate,
They sate like Gods, and they would dye in State:
But they were worry'd by a savage Herd,
And the rude Souldier pluckt the Conscript Beard:
They all things had of Age but panick Fears,
In them were ruin'd Centuries of Years:
Against Posterity it was a Crime
To kill these living Registers of Time.
Brennus sack'd Rome with more than barbarous Rage,
He was the cruel Boufflers of his Age:
Boufflers! His Birth strange Prodigies did attend,
The Mischiefs he should act they did portend;
He hath fulfill'd all his foreboding Stars
With Murthers, Rapines, and Piratick Wars:
With Fire and Sword whole Provinces he clears,
He's fann'd with Sighs, and swims in Orphans Tears.
A Mormoe to the Cradle is become,
Strangling a future World too in the Womb:
In dread of him the trembling Infant grows,
And Mothers Curse him with abortive throws.
Dying he will not for his Vengeance call,
And have the World's accompany his Fall;
Heaven mixt with Earth the Monster might survive,
But he will see it Ruin'd whilst alive:
They to the Work the Instrument did suit,
Their bloody Edicts fit to execute;
For thither savage Men their Course direct,
And them they do Employ, or else Protect.
The proud Tarquinius was expell'd from Rome,
The place where now Apostate Princes come;
And here a Convert lately did reside,
And to the grief of all her Minions, Dy'd:
A train of Favourites did to her belong,
Cherish'd the Learned, but much more the Strong:
She to indulge her Passions hither came,
When her cold Country could not quench her flame:
Fresh Conquests over Italy did obtain,
She brought her Goths and Vandals there again;
Those formerly did like a Tempest spread,
But these were soft and more politely bred.
That Faith she did with all her Kingdomes yield,
For which her Father dy'd in Lutzen-field:
When Life with Wounds was forc'd to quit its Post,
He put off Man, and fought the rest a Ghost;
She with new Poinancies did her pleasures tast,
Lucrece when Ravish'd in her Mind was Chast;
But she such Injuries could well sustain,
So Ungentile she thought it to Complain:
She for her Vices chose a proper Land,
Where Absolution ready was at hand.
So Donna Olympia at the Rudder sat,
Her Distaff govern'd the Pontificate:
At such a rate did all Preferments sell,
A Female-Pope is sure Infallible:
Tho' on the Tyber her a Chair should hold,
It is a lustral Water for a Scold;
She to the Vatican had a private Door,
Wheedled the Rich. and did oppress the Poor;
And Ruffians for her Ministers she chose,
She baffl'd Crowns, and Mitres did dispose:
On those who were not Rich they did not fall,
And the whole Church was Simoniacal;
She did not under-hand require a Bond,
But Scudi must be paid into the Fond;
The Vicar slept in an Incestuous Bed,
With Tyrian Purple and with Holy spread;
In softer Fetters then St. Peter bound,
Tho' Mortal so deform'd could not be found,
Or in Prophane or Consecrated Ground:
His Nose in grain, sharp Look, his Eyes did gloat,
A Woman once they chose, but now a Goat:
He had no Gifts his Merit to enhance,
He was made up of Lust and Ignorance;
With a Red Cap he did an Abbot bless,
He thought him Uglier than his Holiness:
Learning tho' ne're so great did not regard,
But what was Monstrous met with a Reward.
Tarquin capricious Time and Fortune's sport,
At last took Refuge in Porsenna's Court;
Strict Correspondence did their Friendship bind,
And were in Sympathy of Humour joyn'd.
Cocles a narrow Avenue did gain,
Against an Army did the Pass maintain;
And when the Bridge behind was broken down,
He thro' the River Swam into the Town.
Claelia the Heroine must next advance,
Whose Name hath furnish'd out a whole Romance,
Sprightly as the Pucelle of Orleans:
She from a flight Confinement did escape,
And a short Voyage o're the Tyber make;
The Noble burthen did the Courser save,
So that he did not founder in the Wave;
When he his charming Hostage re-demands,
She did her self refund into his hands:
When he such Valour, and such Faith did see,
Himself dismist his generous Enemy.
But Scaevola was with a great warmth possest,
He was for striking at the Tyrant's Breast;
But by his side did an Addresser kill,
Who serv'd him with his Life against his will:
He Gamester-like Curs'd the unslucky throw,
Martyr'd the hand which did mistake the Blow;
'Twas bravely aim'd, in vain it was not spent,
It spoil'd a Courtier's fulsome Complement:
Porsenna did in him by Proxy bleed,
The Error did excel the real Deed.
Tasso a lofty Complement once had,
When he told him who writ the Lusiad;
Camaens.
That Vasco whom the Portugueses prize,
Who farthest pusht their large Discoveries,
Where Phoebus with his infant Beams doth rise:
That he with Wishes fraught did sail away,
And the rich Cargo he brought back was Day.
So when Great WILLIAM did from us depart,
Each individual Venture was an Heart;
And when again restor'd unto our sight,
His Presence will be welcomer than Light:
But that he should be from all Dangers free,
His Tutelar Angel was the Guarantee;
He did protect the Charge which he did love,
And liberal Heaven can't Insolvent prove:
Preserv'd a Life which doth exceed all Price,
Clear'd up the Mists, and sunk the drifts of Ice:
With two collided Clouds struck out a Ray,
Which did the Wanderers to their Port convey;
This Harbinger wth streaks of light did mark the way.
Till you come back we with Impatience burn,
And we keep here the Pledge of your Return:
She without you cannot enjoy the Court,
Your Absence if 'tis long, she can't support;
Till her Ulysses hath repass'd the Flood,
Her Life is but a sort of Widow-hood.
But he must first his Native Belgium view,
Receive the Homage to his Valour due:
Affairs of Moment he must first debate,
And by their Model cut out Europe's Fate.
He Executes, but first he doth Advise,
Valiant as Scipio, and like Fabius, Wise;
An Heroc of Immaculate Renown,
A Solemn Look, and yet without a Frown;
Fearless in Danger, Humble with a Crown.
Xenophon Cyrus in false Colours drew,
He really that Fiction doth out-do;
He hath surpass'd in all his Actions since,
The most exalted Plat-form of that Prince:
His Genius in Infancy excels,
Out-stript the Body's sluggish Particles;
It would not wait its slow and tedious pace,
But flew like Atalanta in the Race:
Weak Barriers could not the great Champion hold,
Unfoil'd his Strength, but incorrupt with Gold;
The Purple Clusters did oppress the Root,
From the Dwarf-tree there hung down ripen'd Fruit:
His Mind did great Conceptions entertain,
Thro' all the Rock there shin'd a glist'ring Vein;
Image of War his slumb'ring Thoughts did teise,
It did disturb our Young Themistocles:
Awake he finish'd the unpolish'd Scheme,
And Conquests got of which he first did Dream.
His Recreations Manly did appear,
More Serious than others Business were;
He drew the stubborn Bow, and shook the Spear:
In vain the savage Monster of the Wood,
With raging Jaw and Tusks his Arm withstood;
In his tough sides he did the Javelin lance,
And thus, saith he, I'le Ganch the Boar of France;
Who doth with Desolations fill the Land,
And he shall fall by Meleager's hand:
On a resisting Prey his Shafts were sent,
Fairly he Kill'd, but scorn'd to Circumvent;
Tho' Stratagem they say first here was laid,
Which after was improv'd to Ambuscade:
That Terror grew which was at first Delight,
And Hunting was the Rudiment of a Fight.
A longer Life doth only Years encrease,
With an united Strength to force a Peace:
Of a contagious War the World to cure,
But long ago his Wisdome was Mature;
Fortune from you did a strong Philtre take,
Charm'd to your Side it will not it forsake:
Smil'd on your Youth, when Old it shall not Frown,
Your Victories to the Earth shall weigh you down;
The Laurel which escap'd the Thunder's rage,
And still was Green, shall hoary grow with Age.
Augustus, when he had the World ally'd
In mutual Amity, contented Dy'd:
Harwich by Union's join'd unto the Brill,
Holland he treads but England's with him still:
Of our Nobility he hath the flower,
To serve and to adorn his Royal Power.
So that our Monarch at the Hague doth sit,
'Compass'd with Honor, Courage, and with Wit:
They in one Sphere Concentrically move,
Like Medicaean Stars attending Jove:
There they a Country Cultivated see,
A State whose Genius is Industry:
The meanest doth with Application thrive,
And every One brings Thyme unto the Hive.
Frugal they are, but Plenty they enjoy,
The Poor they best relieve, that is, Employ:
Their Merchants to the utmost Indies run,
Where they have spawn'd another Nation.
They with high Ramparts have the Sea withstood,
And have o'rewhelm'd the Spaniards with their Blood;
For they by Inches did their Country gain,
For every spot of Earth an Army slain.
* Charles did with sober Policy design,
More closely all these Provinces to joyn,
Into a mighty Kingdome them unite,
But he in Discontent turn'd Anchoret:
With drowsy Fryars he his Days did close,
He did disturb the World's, and their repose:
He left the Plan unfinisht to his Son,
To fix it with the Inquisition;
For this Tribunal is a spiritual Throne,
And here the Priest doth domineer alone:
Injustice here, and holy Thefts do dwell,
The Darkness, and the Cruelty of Hell;
For in the Dungeon there's Cimmerian Night,
And yet then that more terrible is Light;
For then they barbarous Judges only see,
Who do their Death without remorse decree:
In Sanbenitoes dress those wretched Men,
Whom to Eternal Flames they do condemn:
If Rich, then unavoided is your Fate,
The flagrant Heresy is a great Estate,
If Poor, half the Damnation they'le abate:
This a peculiar Name and Triumph hath,
They call this Butchery an Act of Faith:
Holland these Usurpations did oppose,
The Shield was hammer'd with Pyracmon's blows.
Philip did fight for what was his before,
And his own Flesh he like a Madman tore;
But Self-defence did their Resentments draw,
The Sword prevented that Draconick Law;
This they ow'd chiefly unto Great NASSAU:
Whose Family of Heroes is the source,
And hath flow'd on in a Pacifick course;
With Surface smooth an even stream doth keep,
'Tis not obstreperous, silent 'tis and deep:
In him the same Affection doth remain,
Those whom his Fathers rais'd he doth sustain,
And they are shaded with his prosperous Reign:
With Arcs Triumphal now her Prince receives,
His Conquests all cut out in Bas-reliefes;
And the rich Ground is plentifully spread,
With blooming, future Honors for his Head.
Savoy doth anxiously Supplies request,
Succor him first for he is most Distrest;
The Eagles in his Rocks have built their Nest:
The French thro' rugged Paths have made their way,
Those Heighths are proper for such Birds of prey:
They in a barren, abrupt Country live,
Their Diet like their Faith is Primitive;
For slender Sustenance their strength recruits,
Where they can dig them out they feed on Roots:
Wines they have none, their Drink is melted Snow,
When heated with the Sun their Hills do flow;
Their Bodies Nervous are, but very thin,
They've hanging down a mighty, Double-Chin;
It makes their Women look like Endor-Haggs,
With livid Visages, and flaccid Baggs:
This evil doth proceed as some do think,
Because the Alpine-water they do drink;
Which from the Springs within the Clefts do fall,
Impregnate with an Acid Mineral:
With the same Vigour they their Prince sustain,
As against him they did their Faith maintain.
Altho' these Vallies have but glimmering Light,
Yet for their Hearths and Altars they did fight:
Heaven doth not always take the juster side,
His Power to shew, and to chastise our Pride;
Like Plague and Famine it doth suffer France,
Upon his injur'd Kinsman to advance:
Victorious Princes break thro' sacred Ties,
Those Webs were only made for vulgar Flies.
Nothing could Charles-Emanuel controul,
His Country was too Narrow for his Soul;
Still his Ambition did fresh Objects seek,
His pent up Courage into Flames did break:
These were the cause, the Jealousies of Spain,
That he a larger Empire did not gain;
But he for Christendome did cut out work,
And like a Fox did in his Mountains lurk:
With Hannibal's Vinegar they all are cleft,
This Prince hath scarce a Territory left;
But these Events don't with our Prophets suit,
It doth their Revelation-Dreams confute:
Nostre-Dame saw in Hieroglyphick Scrole,
The Convoys all cut off from Pignerol;
In his Divining Elbow-Chair he sat,
And looking wisely as did Montaigne's Cat,
Foretold the Overthrow of Catinat.
These Arts unto their Merchants we should leave,
Whose profest Livolihood is to Deceive;
Wth Schemes of Weather they dawb round their Brain,
And if 'tis Cloudy it may chance to Rain:
And now that all the World with Wars is fill'd,
If there's a Fight some Troopers may be kill'd:
Embargo should be laid on Platonists,
Else all our Knowledge will be lost in Mists.
A noble Treatise lately hath been wrote,
Gainst these Idaealists an Antidote:
There's nothing rough the tender Mind to tear,
But from those Thorns the fertile Ground is clear:
Nothing but what's perspicuous there is taught,
You are not like the Ram in Brambles caught;
To extricate himself he vainly tries,
And you to Jargon fall a Sacrifice.
His Arguments are in a due method plac'd,
His Notions by their bright impressions trac'd;
They all do like a regular Prospect ly,
Not to amuse, but please the Learned Eye:
His Reas'nings in a deeper Mould are seen,
His Metaphors like Beams do play between;
Tho' they're profound, yet they the Mind delight,
As Shade is but a sort of thicker Light.
Nature with Assiduity he hath serv'd,
Her utmost Favours are for him reserv'd;
Into her Closet doth admission gain,
And all her Mysteries he shall explain:
He with his Judgment shall new-form our Clay,
Solve all Phaenomena another way;
New Passages shall by his Eye be seen,
Which lurk within this curious Machine:
He thinks beyond an ordinary stint,
He brings his Bulloine to a finer Mint;
His Grains unto the Sixtieth part assay'd
Are true, tho' in the tender'st Balance weigh'd;
As in Philosophy, he shall impart
His Nostrums in the Aesculapian Art:
Scurvey, and every insolent Disease
Shall be subdu'd by our great Hercules;
The pallid Legions shall their Victor fear,
And the Augean Stable he shall clear:
From New-discover'd Indies bring home Wealth,
The Author of our Learning and our Health:
The Moderns, nay, the Antients hath Out-done;
The Nation may be proud of such a Son.
Others for Martial Exploits are born,
But such as he the Kingdome must adorn;
As in that Land where Nature's always drest,
With the Sun's genial Caresses blest:
Ripe Fruit is justl'd out with younger Seeds,
Still a fresh Colony of Blossomes breeds:
So to our KING all Seasons Laurel bring,
And the whole Year is a perpetual Spring;
For every Conquest, like a pregnant Rose,
With op'ning Buds fresh Triumphs doth disclose:
We'll Conquer with the Auguries of his Fame,
As Nicias carry'd Victory in his Name;
With Carcasses we'll surfeit all the Ground,
We'll shake their Walls down wth our Trumpets sound;
Display the Eagles, Legions advance,
We'll fix our Standards in the Heart of France.
Now, MADAM, who your Merit can set forth,
In strains adjusted to such wondrous Worth?
So bright a Theme should rapturous Thoughts infuse,
A Task too weighty for a vulgar Muse:
This should the Genius of Old Waller raise,
Whose rich and elegant Talent was to Praise;
The sweetest Bard that ever yet hath sung,
When to his Voice his learned Harp he strung,
On his melodious Lips the Audience hung.
You, MADAM, have a glorious Instance given,
That Woman's the peculiar Work of Heaven;
Men are debas'd with very course allay,
Theirs is a delicate, a China Clay:
They defaecated are from spurious Dross,
The Texture soft, and beautiful the Gloss;
As when the Horizon doth begin to clear,
To those who have been Darken'd half the Year;
When it doth gradually improve to Day,
And the saint Beam becomes a pointed Ray;
The amazing Splendor doth at first surprise,
But after doth refresh their longing Eyes:
Nay that which we less North-ward never saw,
Discourse congeal'd with solid Ice doth thaw;
For Cold doth all their Syllables condense,
Transparent Words they have, and Chrystal Sense:
But when the Sun's Meridian Heat is felt,
They all into their proper Idioms melt.
Olaus Magnus doth this Story tell,
Or else John Struys, Le Blanc, or Mandeville.
So till your Monarch, MADAM, hither came,
We scarce were kindled with a vital Flame;
But then a new Creation did appear,
And a fresh Colour in our Hemisphere:
We with loud Accents did proclaim our Wrongs,
For his kind Influence did unloose our Tongues.
A Blemish on our humane Nature lies,
That we a candid Temper do despise,
Whilst the ill-humour'd Wretch is counted wise;
An Horror strikes with his mysterious looks,
As dark and false as are the Sybills Books;
And when he opens trivial Things are spoke,
Only that vilest sort of Wit, a Joke:
As Monsters never have an easy Birth,
There is Austerity in his very Mirth.
On a calm River unconcern'd we slide,
But startle at the roughness of the Tide;
We are surpris'd, our Joy proclaim aloud,
When only Strictures issue from the Cloud;
When his stiff Wrinkles do grow supple, then
'Tis to oblige himself, not other Men:
So peevish is, his Mind is so diseas'd,
You watch his Minutes when he will be pleas'd:
For being surly they to Honors rise,
And want of Breeding all their Merit is;
Either they are capricious or severe,
And they prefer them purely out of Fear:
The World's so intricate, and so untrue,
To pass its Labyrinths we want a Clow;
If Corydon had but the secret knew!
He hath spun out his Melancholy Years,
Betwixt deluding Hopes and certain Fears;
Hath been deceiv'd by Consecrated Wiles,
By Frowns affronted, and betray'd by Smiles:
We of an open Enemy can beware,
But Saint-ship is an unavoided Snare.
He to his Head did arrogate a Ray,
And this false Glory made him lose his way;
Did prosecute too much the Thinking Trade,
The place indulg'd him with too great a Shade;
If he had left it soon, or never seen,
Competently Happy he perhaps had been:
But the Supplanter's fallen from his Sphere,
He ne're deserv'd to be promoted there:
He was reflected in a treacherous Light,
The Bigot did conceal the Hypocrite;
All his Asceticks strictly he did want,
His Fancy else would grow luxuriant;
Living despise his sanctify'd Grimace,
When Dead thy Blood shall spurt into his Face:
Good-Nature always hath a kindly heat,
It keeps the Mass of the Creation sweet;
All distrest Objects his Compassion move,
Forgives his Enemy, his Friend doth love;
Avoids excess in Sorrow, and in Joys,
His Mind is steddy with an equal poise:
He is not querulous, won't for Trifles fight,
Censure, when undeserv'd, doth nobly slight:
His Humour disengag'd, his Carriage free,
He o're the weak cannot Insulting be:
It is unjust to Droll upon a Fool,
When the Philosophers may go to School;
And looking down they the Abyss do dread,
Beyond the reach of all their probing Lead:
Scarce of one Argument we know the force,
Yet the least Knowing, with most warmth Discourse,
Are still prescribing Magisterial Laws,
And with a shake sollicite for Applause:
What should in humane Nature kindle Pride?
Yet Changlings one another we deride.
Madness deserves our Pity, not our Blame;
The Soul is shock'd, and Organs out of frame:
Counsel corrects the wild Extravagant,
And we with doles of Bounty succor Want:
But nothing comforts a Soul deeply griev'd,
That sad Condition cannot be reliev'd;
But he unbiass'd to the World is kind,
An Halcyon Benignity of Mind!
This Character my Muse in Sketches drew,
But, MADAM, the true Protraicture is You:
There's a Balsamick Virtue in your Blood,
Which makes the Customs of your Life so good;
Of easy and Familiar Access,
You with Impartial Beams your Subjects Bless;
The meanest in your condescensions share,
All your Deportments so obliging are:
There's a Majestick Sweetness in your Meen,
Nature design'd, and Fortune crown'd You Queen;
The Peoples Darling as You were their Choice,
Heaven did applaud your Unction with their Voice:
Your very Enemies assert your Right,
Them to your Cause your Looks do proselyte;
Each Glance doth charm, and every Smile engage,
Attracts Affection, and disarms their Rage:
If to attempt your Life a Plotter came,
Horror would seise him, an uncommon shame,
He could not violate so bright a Frame:
Heaven doth its Ministers about You place,
They seem but the reflections of your Face;
They stop the passages with bars of Light,
And the Prophane prohibit from your Sight;
With heap'd Designs if they should dare to storm,
You strike them dead with your Angelick Form.
A Matron did a Tax to * Edward bring,
Who was a Brave and very Handsome King;
The Jolly Monarch in her Arms she took,
Nothing could be deny'd to such a Look:
So what we pay, and all that we can do,
Is but a Tribute to your Beauty duo.
Your Courage, MADAM, is in-laid with Wit,
That a Rich Metal, this enamels it:
The Noble Guests do in one Mansion dwell,
The purest Gold is still most flexible:
Objects of such transcendent Excellence,
With too intense a Beam confound the Sense;
Some great Allay should interpose between,
As the Malteses Spectacles are green;
For with white Earth their Countrey is so bright,
The darted Atomes overcome the Sight.
Your Tongue attracts the Hearer, but your Eyes
Approaches too intruding, do chastise;
But like a Friend with Sweetness they Reprove,
And we the Charming Reprimander love;
Unto the Wound they make, the Cure do bring,
The Hybla-sweetness expiates for the Sting:
So in Zenobia Palmyra's Queen,
Valour and Ingenuity were seen:
In Person she her thick Battalions led
Like Pallas, born out of the Thunderer's Head:
She with fierce On-sets did the Romans vex,
Yet still retain'd the Softness of her Sex:
Warlike, but could in gentle Accents speak;
Her Odenat taught her Arms, Longinus Greek:
And these two Qualities in that Language meet,
Altho' 'tis very lofty, yet 'tis sweet:
Th' Illustrious Princess beautifies your side,
A pregnant Mother, and a faithful Bride:
They a conspicuous Example give
To all the World, how wedded pairs should live:
A Friendship 'tis to a great height refin'd,
Happy we cannot be, unless we're kind:
For the Ill-natur'd do themselves devour,
Their Blood is tainted, all their Juices sower:
We're not so far discourag'd to Despair,
But that You still will Bless us with an Heir,
A Young Ascanius is the People's Prayer.
You shall have true, not personated Groans;
The Cargo for the stay it made, atones:
Tho' the Rich Carrack peevish Winds detain,
It makes a Recompense with treble Gain.
Groans, did I say? You shall bring forth with Ease,
The Birth as soft as what it gives us, Peace:
If Heaven our servent wishes doth defeat,
(As still our Happiness is incompleat)
The Fruitful Princess shall the Throne supply,
And in her Off-spring You shall never die.
This Lewis to the World was slowly sent,
Inflicted on it as a Punishment,
Tho' the French say, He was Heaven's Complement:
A fatal Present to the World was made,
By whom it hath been ruin'd and betray'd:
For he a Publick Mischief is become,
In his Conception he was troublesome;
His Mother tortur'd with unusual pain,
Did of the Conflicts of her Womb complain;
The struggling Burden could not quiet keep,
Oppress'd her waking, did distract her sleep;
She with her startings did her Ladies tire,
And in her Midnight-Dreams she scream'd out, Fire:
Myriades of Ghosts did in her Fancy rise,
With gaping wounds did glide before her Eyes,
Heard Imprecations mix'd with doleful Cries:
Starv'd Nurses with their murder'd Infants came,
And Ruines glowing with a sullen Flame;
Swords hung impending, and before her stood
An ample Vessel fill'd with reeking Blood:
She thought she saw a cruel Monster dead,
And in the Purple-stream a floating head:
Heaven should its marks of Vengeance on him place,
A Fire-brand should be stamp'd upon his Face,
That with this Signature they him might flie;
Seleucus had an Anchor on his Thigh.
To carry on his barbarous Designs,
Makes a vile Peace with the false Algerines:
The Christian Princes should united be
T' attack their Mole, and throw them in the Sea,
This Nest of Pyrats sink, demolish Rome,
They both are Scandals unto Christendome:
An Emissary is a Privateer,
Comes smoothly on, and doth false Colours wear:
He like a Proteus doth himself disguise,
Till he has ta' [...]e and carry'd off the Prize;
A Congregation doth promote this Trade,
It is an Office for such Converts made.
The Fifth.
Charles their Reduction once did undertake,But Fortune did the Brave Attempt forsake:
To blow up Tempests they a Witch did hire,
The conjur'd Winds against him did conspire;
Their Legs the reeling Bodies can't sustain,
They were beat down with mighty drops of Rain:
The forreign Clouds came gathering from afar,
Did with Auxiliary Showers maintain the War,
It was a Deluge Perpendicular:
Darkness so thick at randome they did slay,
They stumbled o're the Bodies in their way,
Flashes of Lightning only made the Day.
Aurora would not now a Smile bestow,
Her ancient Favourites she would not know;
Tho' in their Country they do her enjoy,
She now is sullen, and her Beams are coy:
The tender Emporor his Captives saves,
Throws over all the Horse, retain'd the Slaves;
There they Curvette [...] are foaming like the Waves:
Luxuriant Mangers did these Coursers feed,
Were of the sprightly, Andaluzian Breed;
Unmov'd with Danger, nothing doth them shock,
They'll tread upon the Summitte of a Rock;
Sure-footed stand within an Inch of Death,
And Neighing scorn the Precipice beneath:
These are employ'd in a much milder sport,
When Cavalleros the Ventana Court;
Where the Donzella sees her Lover ride,
Admires the Trappings, and his Horse's Pride;
When from her hands he doth a Favour begg,
Perfumes him with an Orange-water Egg:
The Ginnetts do no better usage find,
Altho' they were begotten of the Wind;
The Sea they with their floating Bodies fill,
The cruel Parents did their Off-spring kill.
When Charles these terrible Disasters knew,
From the unequal Combat he withdrew;
Thousands of Drown'd and Slain he left behind,
And every thing was Conquer'd but His Mind.
At Rome with more Success he did prevail,
In seconding his Fortune, yet did fail;
Being work'd upon by a relenting Tear,
Let loose his Triple-headed Prisoner:
From the great Undertaking Bourbon falls,
For he was kill'd in storming of the Walls:
The Curtezans their Interest employ'd,
That the young Cardinals should not be destroy'd:
But he did from his Victory desist,
Carry'd the Faulcon Hooded on his Fist;
Would not repeat the Game, nor let him fly
Against that ravenous Tyrant of the Sky;
That he a mortal Wound might then receive,
And pounce him to the Earth beyond retrieve:
Francis did cut this Monarch tedious work,
And for a Journey-man he brought in the Turk.
So Lewis keeps erect the Horse's-tail,
His Crowns supply the stock when Aspres fail:
He on the Musselman side himself doth range,
Nay his Religion too he would exchange;
Already the severest Rites are done,
For he hath suffer'd Circumcision:
Henry, who justly was sir-nam'd the Great,
Did gain by Courtesy those he did defeat;
He like a generous Enemy besieg'd,
The Towns he took he never dis-oblig'd:
In a new Model Europe would refine,
He to each State their Portions did assign
With such a poise, they should not break the Line:
Kingdoms must yield Republicks to compleat,
These must be par'd when they are grown too Great:
If one Division offers to rebel,
Then all con-joyn'd on the Disturber fell;
For the Contrasting World is like an Hide
Rais'd in one part, tho' plain in all beside;
But he these rough Impediments removes,
As sinooth as Frangipane or Chamois Gloves.
But single Mutinies do not now suffice,
For every part doth in Combustion rise:
In the Phlaegrean Fields what they admire,
Out of each Pore of Earth there bursts out Fire.
The King had this projecting in his Head,
When an infernal Villain struck him dead;
After he had escap'd so many harms,
Wounded he tumbles in Monthazon's Arms;
Which now his bleeding Monarch did sustain,
It shed his Life, and stopt a glorious Reign:
The mournful'st Story ever told in Verse,
For his Triumphant Chariot was his Hearse:
But when Ravillack on the Greve did Dye,
Not an Old Woman did so much as Cry;
Tho' her own Sex did execrate his Nurse,
For each inflicted Torture gave a Curse:
These could not force altho' they were severe,
Pity from them, or from himself a Tear;
For the damn'd Wretch as harden'd was as they,
Like his Spectators too he would not Pray.
A temperate People, MADAM, you command,
'Tis like your Majesty a good-natur'd Land;
The happy place where you have fix'd your Throne,
Is not the frozen nor the torrid Zone:
Cold doth not mortify, nor Sun forsake,
Doth in remiss degrees of both partake;
It is a Kingdome competently great,
Henry the Seventh's pretty Country Seat:
Th' Iberian Sun exhausts and makes them dry,
They like their Mountains barren are and high:
Their Women early do begin to Paint,
And in the middle of the Race they faint;
For woven in an over-curious Loom,
Decay in Youth, are wither'd in their Bloom.
Nothing but what's their own the English wear,
Complexion like their Manners is sincere:
Italy boasts that they have hit the mark,
And the World Tramontane is in the dark;
Altho' in Heat they do so much excel,
We have enough their Popery to dispel:
As Wool we vindicate, and staple Cloth,
So fine-spun Atheisme is that Country's growth;
A courser Ignorance is the Peoples Webb,
For they run foul as Rivers at an Ebb:
Priests Minds unpractis'd with false Maxims fill,
With early Education them instil;
Which thro the Actions of their Life do flow,
Unto this Source all Prejudice we owe:
To work it off doth Time and Labour ask,
'Tis of our Reason the severest Task,
The unctuous Face doth fasten on the Mask.
Great WILLIAM their Society dissolves,
Hath rooted out these second Race of Wolves;
A non-resisting Sheep-fold they did seise,
And their degenerate Blood their Paws did squeeze;
But they from pointed Canon quickly run,
Nay you may fright them with a single Gun.
Now all malignant Aspects dis-appear,
When Your's, a kind and brighter one is near;
The joyful Atoms in the Sun-beams play,
And Shades must vanish at the sight of Day:
Hatred before you, and pale Envy flies,
And all the Clouds are scatter'd by your Eyes.
Holland had long esteem'd you for her own,
The noble Graft into the Stock was grown;
Th' adopted Branch was like the Parent Fair,
And suffer'd all Inclemencies of Air:
Unshock'd it stood, and did its Verdure hold,
In spite of Tempests, and the Northern Cold,
Which doth with solid Bars the Sea congeal,
The Waters are bound up in Ribs of Steel;
And yet o're these the Travellers do pass,
They slide on Marble, and do walk on Glass;
They sail along, and are a living Fleet,
Masts in their Hands, and Rudders at their Feet:
These to their speed are substituted helps,
With these they penetrate those Chrystal Alpes;
Untrodden Paths of harden'd Snow they clear,
And to their several Ports their Bodies steer:
You with Regret was from their Bosome torn,
You left that Land your Native to adorn;
Tho' with your Presence you brought us Relief,
You left that Country swallow'd up in Grief:
Their Sorrows did with their profuseness drown,
They sigh'd altho' you sail'd unto a Crown;
Their Tears did now their ancient Foe supply,
The Dams were all broke up, no Eye was dry:
The mournful Fraw no more her Princess meets,
But goes lamenting thro' the Widow'd Streets:
People as thin as if there was a Plague,
Your Absence did depopulate the Hague;
But we Congratulate what they Deplore,
Their Loss is an Accession to our Shore;
And we gain what detracted was from them,
We've set the Jewel in a Diadem;
Like that upon the Sacerdotal Breast,
Foretels our Fate which always is the best:
For from those mystick and enlivening Rays,
With Joy we'll calculate our future Days:
Others like Meteors ominously shone,
You an auspicions Star do gild the Throne;
You are not like imperious Juno, Proud,
Or Ranting still, or always in a Cloud:
The Trojans she with Tempests did annoy,
And once sack'd Ilium would again destroy;
Our sublunary Ruine to compleat,
She forg'd Jove's Bolts with her outragious heat:
He with unstinted Appetite did devour,
And Thunder'd with an Arbitrary Power.
This did the bright Inhabitants provoke,
Studded with piercing Beams to break the Yoke:
The Planets first of Quality did conspire,
Him to dethrone with an united Fire:
Inferior Orbs did threaten Civil Wars,
Then murmur'd next the Galaxy of Stars:
The Mild at last were mingled in the Fray,
The peaceful Subjects of the Milky-Way.
Then of the multitude a Chaos fights,
'Tis the rude Mobile of vulgar Lights:
Comets which did with direful Faces burn,
Which he had rais'd the State to over-turn;
Do in the general Revolt combine,
And will not now against the People shine:
When he did see such mighty Tumults rise,
In Mercury's shape he did himself disguise,
And with wing'd speed did Abdicate the Skies:
A milder Genius the Ascendant gains,
He shall keep strong, and you relax the Reins;
Whilst Government requires Imperial sway,
Your Sweetness all those Rigors shall allay:
When the Ledean Stars they single saw,
The Seamen did improsperous Omens draw;
But Fear doth yield to all their gay Desires,
The Sails enlighten'd with these lambent Fires:
So nothing we'll presage but what's serene,
From our Two Princes when together seen.
FINIS.