TO His Sacred MAJESTY, King WILLIAM III. A PANEGYRICK. Presented to the EARL of PORTLAND.
The Second Edition.
By Mr. MANNING.
Nil majus generatur Ipso,
Nec Viget Quidquam simile.
Horat.
LONDON, Printed for J. Weld, at the Crown in Fleet-street, between the two Temple-gates. 1698.
To the Right Honourable, WILLIAM Earl of PORTLAND, &c. Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Garter.
SInce by so Earnest, and so Wise a Care
You Rule that Treaty which Concludes the War:
Since Europe doth Confess the Peace is due
Next to our matchless King, my Lord, to You.
Well may the Muses grateful Offerings raise
To Him, whose Worth so far transcends their Praise:
Him, whose unwearied Services commend
The Faithfulst Subject, and the Faithfulst Friend.
Accept my Lord, a Muse that strives to Sing
The Greatest Hero, and the Greatest King.
She strives indeed, but to her Cost she found
Her Voice too Weak for so Sublime a Sound.
A Theme so Lofty, and a Work so Bold,
Ask strength and Fancy not to be Controul'd.
Like a rude Painter, whom propitious Chance
Directs (unknown) some Likeness to advance:
All I can boast amounts alone to bring
Some faint Resemblance of so Brave a King.
Portland is able best to judge How well
The Picture shews the Great Original:
Can with a glance Discern, if in the Lines
Ought that is like a true Proportion shines.
For You have from the Hero's mouth been taught
His gallant Aims, and all his inmost Thought.
And have Your Self been Witness of the Toil
He spent in Arms to save the Brittish Soil.
How with amazing Valour He pursu'd
His numerous Foes thro' Dust, and Fire, and Blood.
Whilst His Triumphant Fleet at his Command
Dispers'd His Thunder thro' the Hostile Land:
Destroying Towns, and Navys that presume
To share His Ocean, and to tempt their Doom.
Till now their Master, fearful of His Pow'r,
Solicites Peace, which he Disdain'd before.
With hast He Signs, releasing All his Claim
To Towns and Countries won, and bends to William's Name.
TO THE KING.
VOuchsafe, Great Sir, to hear without disdain
Some of the Wonders that Compose your Reign.
Take as your Due, suspending Arms a while,
The Title of Preserver of our Isle.
[...] other Monarchs found a wide Command
[...]n Laws Subverted, or a Conquered Land:
Born for the World's Relief, You glory more
To free that Nation, and those Laws restore.
There needs no Conquest to maintain Your Sway,
You Reign o'er People willing to Obey.
When Parents, lost to Nature, would forsake
Their Children, and the just Succession break:
Who blames an Heir, that with propitious Speed
Sets forth his Claim, and labours to Suceed?
So when old Saturn had resolv'd to chase
His Eldest Jove, and all his Lawful Race;
Mov'd with the Wrong, the injur'd Son arose,
Maintain'd his Title, and Dispers'd his Foes.
And here, Great King, what Praise and Thanks are due
For England's Happiness restor'd by You!
What storms of Fury this poor Island toss't,
Before You landed on the Brittish Coast!
The brand of Zeal was ready to inflame
Its Bosom, and destroy our native Claim
To Liberty, Religion, Law and Right,
When to prevent it, We Your aid invite.
You came, You saw, like Caesar You succeed,
And all our Captive-Laws by You are freed.
So Perseus once, to save the injur'd Maid,
Flew o'er the Deep, and brought a timely Aid.
Fain would I dwell upon this great Relief,
That fix'd our Safety, and dispers'd our Grief.
Recorded Let it be to future Time,
Inspiring Poets with unusual Rhime.
Let the Triumphant Subject fill each Page,
Exalt their Numbers, and increase their Rage.
But then, how Large, how Bright should be the Flame
That dares attempt to spread the Hero's Fame!
He, who like Lightning shone upon our Land,
(Dread in his Look, and Justice in his Hand,)
Yet when He shot thro' every guarded place
Forbore his Vengeance, and display'd his Grace.
A Love so Wondrous, and an Act so Bold
Make us believe Thee scarce of humane Mould:
But (what's more suited to such Deeds) that Fate
Some Guardian Angel sent to prop a sinking State.
Pale Horror now, nor Crimson Slaughter bear
Your feet ascending to the Regal Chair.
How soon our Great Preserver did unite
The Monarch's Grandeur, and the People's Right!
How soon were all our gathering Tempests o'er,
When once You shew'd Your Person on our shore!
So when the Winds at Juno's suit arose,
And pour'd impetuous fury on her Foes:
The Oceans God did all his Care employ
To lay those Winds, and save remaining Troy.
France for an Age her deep Designs had laid,
And for a War a Vast Provision made:
Whilst Neighb'ring Kings observ'd it not, or drown'd
In soft Amusements, slighted what they found.
Or what is worse, expected to partake
That Pow'r that did the World's whole Fabrick shake.
Thus Fleets were built, and Armies on the strand
Insulting spread a Fear thro' every Land.
On You, Brave Prince, the low'ring Tempest fell,
And Storms increase as You their Rage repell.
France, Hydra-like, no sooner lost one Head,
But still Two more seem'd risen in its stead.
Till You, pursuing with Herculean Toil,
Oppos'd her Progress, and regain'd the Spoil.
Plac'd in the Throne, by Law, by Right your Due
All our Complaints are soon redress'd by You.
O [...]c [...] more with joy we see our Laws restor'd,
The Nation's Honour, and the Prince's VVord.
[...] People now, whose universal Voice
Gave Thee the Crown, confirm the worthy Choice.
The grateful Senate votes with joynt Applause
Sufficient Aids for Thine, and Europe's Cause.
VVhilst You with care disposing of the same,
Make large returns of Empire and of Fame.
Thus Scotland (when Rebellious Arms withstood
The Joynt Election, and the Publick Good)
Glad to contribute to your Fame's increase,
VVas by your Arms restor'd to native Peace.
'Twas here a Savage Brood maintain'd the VVar,
Bred among Rocks, and harden'd by Despair,
Eager of Blood, inur'd to Toil and Cold,
Led by a hardy Rebel, Firm and Bold,
In vain attempted with a fierce Career
To check Thy Progress, and thy Laurels tear.
Fill'd with Thy Genius brave Mackay receiv'd
The Sturdy Foe, who such bold Acts atchiev'd,
That had his Cause been Right, his Fortune we had greiv'd.
But This may shew what Fate's decreed for Those
VVhose impious Arms dare such a King oppose.
To Ireland passing next I should disclose,
Great King, Thy Triumphs over other Foes.
There should I trace Thee to the dusty Fight,
Plung'd in the midst, and mov'd with fierce Delight:
Pursuing Squadrons of the yielding Foe,
VVhilst Boyn's white VVaves grew red at every blow:
VVhen Bullets by Divine Commission flew,
And pitying Europe's state distinguish'd You.
What Perils in the Tumult didst thou run,
Confronting Death, which had the World undone!
But Providence thy Guardian ever found,
Exchang'd the Ruine for a painful Wound.
O that I had but Waller's Heavenly flame
Powerful and Bright, proportion'd to Your Fame:
In Verse triumphant as my Theme, I'd sing
The Godlike Deeds of happy Britain's King!
How swift as Phoebus Rays he Pierc'd each place,
Terror and Conquest lightned from his Face:
His Foes Astonish'd, Sunk upon the Plain,
And scarce a Few escap'd Affrighted o'er the Main.
But These are Stroaks that claim a Master's Hand,
Unfit for me to touch, what Few can e're Command.
Mean while as long as Silver Boyne shall flow,
And fruitful Crops to neighbouring Meads bestow:
As long as Mountague's exalted Page,
Fill'd with Thy Glorys shall retain its Rage.
As long as Ireland's rescu'd Laws shall stand,
So long Thy Conquests shall adorn That Land.
Nor is Thy Conquering Soul to Lands confin'd,
The Ocean has to Thee her Bounds refign'd.
Lord of the Sea, where e're Thy Fleets are found,
The wondring Coasts Thy settled Fame resound.
The French, observing where Thy Navy rides,
Keep close at home, nor dare They trust the Tides.
Too well They call to mind that Fatal hour
When Russel chas'd Them with his floating Power.
The harmless Tourville thought it time to fly,
When he perceiv'd an English Fleet was nigh.
This is our Islands Strength: should Armies fail,
The Terror of our Ships would still prevail.
But thou at once art Fear'd upon the Plain,
And art Supream Controuler of the Main.
Well then may Tourville and the Gallick Fleet
Despair of Safety, when our Force They meet.
La Hogue's remembred still, whose Dreadful Name
Confounds their Spirits, and reveals their Shame.
With what Impatience did the Foes retire,
Led by the Light of their Own Navy's Fire!
Namur should be One Subject of my Song,
Namur, so Great, so Daring and so Strong.
No common Fortress here deludes Your Fame,
This won, You spread throughout the Globe Your Name.
Nature and Art, Blood, Fire, and Rage combine
To disappoint the Bold, the Brave Design.
How did the battering Canons prove their Force,
And fierce Battalions storm it in their Course!
In vain the warm Defenders would repell
Your Conquering Troops, for when the Boldest fell,
A New Supply was still reserv'd behind,
The same the Boldness, and the Conquering mind.
Cuits leads them on, the King's Example fires
The Hero, and to Conquest Him inspires.
Now would I Draw collected near the Town
The Foes United Strength to finish Thy Renown.
In vain doth Villeroy threaten to advance
With all the Pride, and all the Power of France:
In vain pretends with a Superior Force
To brave Your Army, and divert Your Course.
Slighting his Threats, quick Orders You dispence
To Storm the Fort, in spight of all Defence:
To gain their Lodgments, and the Work pursue,
Contemning All that Foes on either side can do.
Mean while the French are much alarm'd to find
Such Resolution, and such Conduct joyn'd.
Amaz'd at all the Actions they Behold,
At Troops so Daring, and a King so Bold,
Stand gazing on to see the Fort resign'd,
And own Nassau the Greatest of Mankind.
Thus Those, who aim'd at Universal Sway,
Are here Compell'd to Wonder and Obey.
Those who with Gold so often had o'errun
Whole Provinces, and strongest Places won,
Oppos'd in open VVar decline the Field,
Attest Your Valour, and Consent to Yeild.
THIS were a Task indeed; but, oh! my Muse,
Unknowing to be Bold must such a Work refuse.
Far from the War she humbly seeks to rove,
And sing in softer Strains of Peace and Love.
Now may she sing of both, for Mars resigns
His Empire, Venus with Apollo joyns:
The God of Day triumphs, again serenely shines.
War's now no more, the Trumpet's shrill Alarm
Excites no Terror, and implies no Harm.
No longer now destructive Engines roar,
No longer breath Defiance from our Shore:
Instead of Thunder, Peals of Joy afford,
For Your Return, and for the Peace restor'd.
Restor'd by You, Great KING! for You alone
Cou'd check th' Enlargment of the Gallick Throne.
Let others boast ignoble Foes to tame,
Foes much unequal and unus'd to Fame:
Unlike such Victors, stronger Armies You,
E'en in their height of Triumphs can subdue.
War's now no more, let every Wind diffuse,
Where'er the Ocean rouls the happy News.
On every Shore shall pressing Throngs be found,
Prepar'd with list' ning Ears to catch the joyfull Sound.
With Shouts of Gladness shall the Tidings hear,
Resume their Spirits and discharge their Fear.
War's now no more, the humble Shepherds lead
Their Flocks with Joy, securely now they feed.
The Husbandman no more his Toil restrains,
But reaps Himself the Harvest of his pains.
The thriving Merchant unmolested joyns
Both Indies, and returns with sailing Mines.
The Muses too their drooping Spirits raise,
And sing aloud the PEACE, the Triumph of our Days.
The Brittish Monarch has the lasting Fame
Of settling Europe's Peace, and every Lawfull Claim.
What Pow'r on Earth could e'er have long withstood
The just Attempt of one so Great, so Good?
A Prince, whose Name strikes Terror in his Foes,
Secures a constant and a firm Repose.
A Fame so bright, so much beyond the Praise
Of modern Heroes, well might Wonder raise
Enough to make an
Czar of Moscovy.
Emperor leave his ThroneSo far remote, his Conquests newly won,
And Greater still in view, to visit Him alone.
So Sheba's Queen to distant Judah came,
To see a Prince that fill'd the World with Fame.
To Thee, Great KING, united Europe gave
Their Armies to command, their Rights to save.
Wisely They chose, for what Their joynt Consent
Resolv'd, is answer'd by the Great Event.
By long Experience of Your Arms They knew
What such a Leader, such a King could do.
No Wonder then Thy vast Heroick Toil
Makes Mighty Princes court the Brittish Soil,
In Person come to view and to admire
Him, who has sav'd the World from Rage and Fire;
Who, fearless, thro' incircling Dangers sprung,
Eager of Fame, Wise, Pow'rful, Brave, and Young,
And wheresoe'er He flew, brought Victory along.
O, how I could enlarge this pleasing Scene!
(The Subject pleases, tho' the Verse be mean)
But that I know your Patience and your Time
Too weighty to be spent on trifling Rhime.
Else would I spread the Glories of Thy Line,
How Great, how full of Splendor, how Divine!
What heaps of Honours, and of Conquests grace
The numerous Branches of Thy Godlike Race!
Triumphant, All the Publick Good pursue,
And yet are pleas'd to be outdone by You.
But yet, so Great, so Gallant, so Renown'd
As Thou in all the Courts of Fame art found,
Yet have we seen Thee All the Man forego,
Lavish in Grief, and far oppress'd with Woe.
But then, what Power is This, that could Controul
Such Martial Heat, and Shake so firm a Soul?
MARIA could Alone. MARIA's hapless Fate
Made All the Hero Sink, the Fierce, the Bold, the Great.
Oh! She was Goodness All, with Pride unstain'd,
And yet the Port of Majesty retain'd.
Of Manly Spirit, yet Serene of Face,
Adorn'd with every Virtue, every Grace.
Whilst in her Eyes transcendent Charms were seen,
Minerva's Wisdom, Juno's Awful Meen,
Arose Conspicuous in This Matchless QƲEEN.
Pow'r, Mercy, Bounty, All conspir'd to show
The World an Angel, whilst She liv'd below.
Just were Thy Tears on This occasion shewn,
For such a Loss no Age had ever known.
With Thee whole Nations wept, and press'd with Grief
Prolong'd their Mourning, careless of Relief.
Thine was a nearer Loss; We more admire
Thou couldst so soon revive Thy Martial Fire,
Than that we saw Thy Tears: but Fate ordain'd
The Hero still should rise, and so his Grief restrain'd.
Now has He gain'd his Height, for what remains
For Valour to perform, since Europe Peace obtains?
This was His Work, in which the Hero spent
His Generous Blood for such a Great Event.
A Work so full of Wonder and of Fame,
That all the World Consents to rev'rence his Name.
Let other Writers other Acts rehearse,
Display His Bolder Deeds in Bolder Verse;
Mine be the Task of Peace, diffusing o'er
Its golden Fruits to every happy Shore.
Here, when I weigh, that None beside was found
Able to check Ambition, and to bound
Insulting Foes, whose project was to Awe
United Nations, and give Europe Law;
How am I rais'd with Wonder, and with Flame!
Rage, Fury, Transport, All that I can name,
Hurries me on to spread Thy Matchless Fame.
Who doth not feel th' Effect of all Thy Cares
At Home in Council, or Abroad in Wars?
What Part of All the Universe complains,
Whilst so Renown'd, so Just a Monarch reigns?
Is there a Virtue, that to Human Sense
Seems Useful, and goes Unrewarded hence?
By Thee the Muses are advanc'd above
The People's Censure, or Uncertain Love.
Rais'd to Thy Councils, or in meaner Trust,
Their least degree of Merit's to be Just.
Thou know'st their Worth, and with Remark hast seen
How faithful to Thy Service They have been.
In all Sublime Occasions that Require
A Watchful Conduct, and an Active Fire:
Let the World judge, if Those of Phoebus Train,
Those whom the KING has chosen to retain,
Have e'er been found Remiss in Needful Care,
Or in the Wish'd Success without a Double Share.
Then let the KING the Muses Tribe increase,
Indulge their Labours, and Secure their Peace.
FINIS.