ODE TO THE KING, On His Return from IRELAND.

WElcome, thrice Welcome, Sir, from all the Harms,
The rough Fatigues, & threatning Dangers past,
To your Britannia's, and Maria's Arms;
By each alike with Eager Joys embrac'd.
Both equally did for your Absence Mourn,
And both alike Languish'd for your Return.
For wheresoe're abroad in Camps y' appear,
We not for Us, but for your Person fear.
In your Great Breast so much does Valour burn,
You urge so home, so much your self expose,
Your Courage does affright your Friends, as well as Foes.
[Page 2]Your Troops, when charg'd to March by your Com­mand,
Astonish'd with Prodigious Wonder stand,
To see the Crowding Bullets fly
At unregarding Majesty;
While their Great Leader is concern'd no more
Than at some gentle and refreshing Showr.
But soon they Recollect, are soon Inspir'd
To act such Deeds as He alone can teach:
By his unparallel'd Example sir'd,
They press towards That which they can never reach.
You not alone your Troops Command, but show
What you wou'd have 'em Bear, what Do;
Who, with Amazement, find all first Perform'd by You.
Most with Impatience Toil, and Hazards bear;
Some grieve at Wounds, and apprehend each Scar;
But your Vast Soul alone Enjoys the War.
Not the fierce Lover shows more chearful haste,
Meeting the beauteous Nymph to be Embrac'd,
As the Reward of all his Service past;
Than you to joyn in Battle with a Foe:
So much your Mighty Mind does Glory prize,
In your erected Look fierce Joy you show,
And kindled Virtue flashes in your Eyes,
VVhile you all Hazards, Wounds, and Death despise.
You to your Dangerous Wound would give no rest;
You wou'd not be at leisure to be Cur'd:
The pain of which sound room in every Breast,
Unfelt by you alone; or else endur'd
VVith that Great Temper, and that God-like Mind
VVhich in your Sacred Breast alone we find.
That Wound, at which th' Astonish Muse
Aid to all Numbers, did refuse.
[Page 3]A Wound, which deeply pierc'd each Gen'rous Heart:
Which your Three Kingdoms tenderly did feel;
A Blow, which made all injur'd Princes start,
And all the Great Confederacy Reel.
The only Holy League, that e're was made,
A League oppress'd Mankind to free
From the most Barb'rous Foe did e're Invade
VVith Sword, and Fire, and Treachery.
But Heav'n of you took such peculiar Care
That soon the Royal Breach it did Repair,
And sav'd your Great Allies from all Despair.
And now through all the League, in every Heart
Your Vig'rous Influence does it self exert;
You, like the Soul, are All in every Part.
When Coz'ning Fame did the false Tidings spread
Through France, That our Nassau was Dead;
The Great Faux Brave, void of all Shame,
Loudly to Europe did Proclaim
How much he did your Sacred Person dread:
By the most Barbarous, and Abject ways;
Such as the Turk, or Tartar scorns to use.
Thus, thus he did your Awful Valour praise,
And his own Fear to all Mankind Accuse.
Who in his mean, and Savage Joys must find
More of a Woman, than a Hero's Mind.
Who, with no Decence, then his Joy cou'd bear,
With no sound Temper can Support his Fear,
(Tho Bullets he resolves not to come near)
When you, Sir, at the Head of this Great League appear.
Now, since so many, and so great Affairs
Employ your Royal Mind with Cares;
[Page 4]And you the mighty Weight alone Sustain,
Your happy Subjects you with Arms defend,
Instruct with Manners, and with Laws amend;
I, from Mankind, cou'd no Indulgence gain
If, from the Public Good, you longer I detain.
Welcome, Great Prince! from Toils, and Arms,
To soft Maria's Beauteous Charms:
Who in your Absence Reign'd so well,
And did so much the Virgin Queen excel,
No more shall we old Tales of our Eliza tell.
VVelcome, Great Sir! to fill your Brittish Throne:
Brittain, with Justice, you may call your own;
VVhich to a Mighty Kingdom you advance.
From a poor Province, to Insulting France.
FINIS.

Books Newly Printed for James Knapton, at the Crown in St. Paul's-Church-yard.

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