BRITANNIA ITERUM BEATA: OR, A Poem-Narrative OF Her Gracious MAJESTIES Departure from LISBONE, With Her Thrice-Welcome Arrival at PORTSMOUTH.
By W. W.
Veni jam AƲGƲSTAE Oceani VICTRIX.
Juvenal:
—Omen habes magni clarique triumphi,
Regem aliquem capies.—
Printed at London by James Cottrel, Anno 1662.
BRITANNIA ITERƲM BEATA: OR, A Poem-Narrative Of Her Gratious Majesties Departure from Lisbone, &c.
NO Victories o'er the Dutch, do I here sing,
Nor what new Treasures from the Indies bring
Our dancing Fleet; but from a Neighb'ring Myne,
What's greater far, the Treasure KATHARINE.
Till now I thought, the Portuguez in vain
So eagerly did Plow the Indian Main
In quest of Gold, when his own private Store
Could shew far richer then their Dirty Ore.
But see the Reason, sure, he did intend
To make our Britain Wealthy, and to lend
Us Lisbon's All: Nay, and to sent it home,
Suppose our CHARLES obliged would become.
He's bound; she comes: yet it that Nation knew
To falsifie their Word, it can't be true:
[Page 2] For sure, me thinks, I see fair Lisbon's Strand
Wall'd round with Thousands, which though drooping stand,
Do living Bulwarks seem, to keep her there;
Yet do they fall, when she doth once appear:
And those that thought her Passage to deny,
Now walk a Breach, that she might pass thereby.
Fain would they have her stay, fain have her go;
At one time question'd tongues speak I and No.
Each bended have two Knees; the one to pray
The Gods for Wind, the other Her to stay.
Each pleasant, yet sad Face, a double Eye
Doth bear; the one doth weep, whilst t' other's dry.
Great Contradictions sure, doth reconcile
That Peace-make Cheek on which Tears meet a Smile.
'Tis strange; and none but such a Saint as she
Of such a Miracle could Actress be.
Hold! hold your Medley-Mourning; 'tis in vain:
See where she comes, heading her Virgin-train.
The Crowd straight make a circling Lane, that she,
Though going from them, yet might with them be:
And like a Labyrinth, they run it round;
But the Way out to Her's not long unfound.
She saw their Drift; yet angry not, look'd down
With such a Brow as never knew to frown,
Upon the kneeling Throng on either Hand,
Whose Knees were couchen'd by the yeilding Sand.
Here casts an Eye, there Nods; here throws a Smile:
So parting Nurses Children do beguile.
But see, she now unto the Bank is come
Which parts great Neptunes Kingdom from her Home;
[Page 3] Where she survey'd, as proudly there did stand
A floating City under the Command
Of Neptunes eldest Son, which that did bring
A Present to Her from the Oceans King.
She kindly doth accept it; but what's more,
Resolves to thank Him on the British Shore.
Then Smiles a Farewel, looking round about;
And thus she puts the People out of doubt:
Steps on the Boat; where whilst this Foot did stand,
The other is kept Prisoner by the Land:
But sure it was not long; for smiling, She
Again looks back, and straight it was set free.
No sooner entred, but the Saylors shout;
And cry, They Portugal have in their Boat.
And well as heavy lading might they fear,
VVhen Lisbons Hearts, and sad ones, all were there.
Now scarce their Oars had struck a treble Stroke,
But they, unto a greater Bulk of Oak
Resigne their pretious Fraight; where Sayls they hoise,
And sleeping Anchors, with a hideous Voice,
They call from the Deep: so doth Charon roar,
VVhen tugging he, Styx Waves do bend his Oar.
The rais'd-now Canvas swells, 'cause proud to know
Their CHARLES his KATHARINE doth stand below:
And straight into a Canopie they spread,
Although unfit for their great Mistress Head:
VVho checks their promptness, bids the Vessel stay;
Which they straight hear, and crouching do obey:
The Reason she, almost forgot a Thing,
Design'd a Present for great Britains King:
A pretious Thing indeed; it was her Heart,
Which would take leave before it did depart.
[Page 4] The Bruitish Sea-men cry, Their Wind doth fail,
When straight the Peoples Sighs do swell their Sail.
Which plainly doth their Mountain-Grief express
To let her go, and yet their willingness.
But what far stranger is, I'll tell you, they
Could water lend, if shallow were their Bay:
For now sad Lisbons Pavements do drink more
Then ever did her large and spungie Shore.
But wind nor water wanting, doth she go,
Gliding from what her Eyes direct her to:
Till crawling distance at the length had made
Of Lisbons Towers and Bulk, an Azure shade.
Then do her sad and gloomed Eyes survey
The lofty Banks of the wide-gaping Bay:
Whose distance seem'd willing to let her out,
Till their sharp Nooks advancing, put this Doubt,
Whether they did not all intend to meet,
And so to hinder the glad-passing Fleet:
Who void of Fear, with a Majestick Pride,
Doth cut her Channel, and through it doth ride
Unto her Mother-Ocean; where fit Gales
Do gladly whistle in her willing sails;
And puffs her on so fast, that what a Land
Spacious once seem'd, seems now a heap of sand.
And now the Queen her Portugal can't see,
Yet sees her Portugals Epitomie.
But 'twas not long; for whilst she look'd about,
Her Eyes returning, finde the spot wash'd out.
The Sun at length, though posting he did ride,
Who was at Sea, had from his Wain now spy'd;
And therefore leaves the Spheres, cause he did know
The Sea had then Divinity below
[Page 5] In greater store: here he dances, here he plays;
Here he falls, here he baths his cholerick Rays.
But when he found that he was look'd upon
With greater lustre far, then was his own,
Blushing looks down; and then, for anger he
Will needs go drown himself there in the Sea.
The Night follows; veil'd with a Mourning-Cloud,
His Sister-Moon doth bring his Milky-shrowd:
The Stars his Torches; all the Planets run
Now to the Burial of their Brother-Sun.
They all descended are now to the Deep,
And yet they do their Heavenly station keep:
For when the Saylor doth his forehead rear
Unto the skie, they to him there appear:
Then looking down into the Oceans Brine,
He also doth observe them there to shine.
Why doth the foolish Sterns-man look so high,
When he may sayl, now, by the Oceans skie?
By this time had sad Cynthia almost gone,
In both her heavens, her procession:
But bolder now, by grief, resolves to see,
Before she went away, that glittering she
Sol fell by: through the chrystal venters in,
Where slumbring lay the thoughtless Queen, within;
And boldly dar'd to reach her veiled eyes,
Which feel, unveil, then bid their Mistress rise;
Who angry rouz'd, doth with one single breath
Two Miracles; both give, and take from death:
She life unto the buried Sun straight gave,
And bids the Moon go take his watry grave.
No sooner spoke, but Moon and Night are fled;
The thankful Sun, now peeping, rears his head:
[Page 6] E'er since, sad Night attends the Moon; the Sun
Dances, glad of his Resurrection:
They both, by turns, thrice seven times did shine
Upon the Poup, the Flanks, the lofty Pine,
Which from the spreading middle up doth sprout,
Of her so mountanous, yet moving root;
Whilst the poor Brittons longings, and their fears,
Do think it more then thrice three seven years.
But see now, how the Saylors thronging stand,
Who shall discover first, and shew the Land
Unto the ready Queen, whose wandring eyes
Do fetch long Journies in the seas and skies
In vain; when a too-forward sea-man cries,
With chearful Voyce, See where Great Britain lies!
Then did directly point at that which he
Nor any of his Fellows, sure, could see:
But for his credit, at length there appears
A Bank, which to the skies his sharp Head rears.
He seen, sees; and as the Queen drew nigher,
The Hill grows proud, and still strutteth higher.
And now, each gentle Gale affords their Eyes
More then thrice welcome fresh Discoveries.
The British shores are crowded all along
VVith a still praying and expecting throng;
VVho furnish'd, since their own eyes could not do't,
Each with a glazen eye to play the scout;
These wandring to and fro, at length did meet
A happy one with the advancing Fleet.
He joy'd, cries out, See how they cut the Main!
See how attended with a scaly train,
The wooden hills do roul! see how they show,
With Sayls, like walking mountains topt with snow.
[Page 7] But 'twas not long, that onely this, and some
VVere happie; for now, all cry out, They come!
And whilst they gazing stand, each private eye,
Without a help, each Pulley can discry.
Now Peasants dancing, from aloft do give
A welcome to the Queen, with a Long live!
The courchying Shepherdesses too, stand by,
For joy, clad in the gay months Livery.
The Queen observes, and bids the Pilots ride
Neerer unto the high Cliffs craggie side;
Over whose top, the wealthy soil doth peep,
To see her new Queen, while she's in the deep.
The panching Rocks fain would fall asunder,
That they might welcome her with a thunder,
Such as they know will do the neighb'ring Forts,
VVith roaring Ecchoes of their Guns reports.
The trees all bow, and drooping seem to stand,
Because their roots now tie them to the land:
But by their messenger, the VVinde, they strow
Those waves with leaves, o'er which the Queen doth go.
From whom, these soft amusements stole the thought
Of landing, till she to her Port was brought;
To whose blest shore, the Pilot with glad pride,
His sad and melancholy Bulks doth guide;
Grieving, since past all dangers of the sea,
They in the Haven now should shipwrack'd be:
And now, thus to receive their heaviest doom,
As banish'd Traytors, when returned home:
They onely to their King their lives resigne;
But these, their dearest All, their KATHARINE.
The Sayls now flagging fall, the Streamer too,
Which us'd, with dancing courtship, so to woo
[Page 8] The wind into the sayls, now hangs his head;
The fluttering Jack resolves no more to spread.
But see! the flaming shore doth now express
The better contrary, in its excess:
And whilst her sands, the Queens advancing feet
Do bless, a thousand thousand hearts them meet;
And thrice thrice-loyal ones are all thrown down,
To pave a Causey for them, to the town;
Whose gates she with the like joy enters through,
As Londons did great CHARLES, not long ago.
The Peoples shouts now fill the smiling skies,
They Vows, with sparkling Bonfires sacrifice;
VVhere round them doth a busie small crowd stand;
Each hath a liberal, though little hand.
The Pavements all, do by their lustre shine,
VVhilst some allay their heat with lustie wine.
The Chanel drunk, yet gulping, doth he go,
And whistles joy, as he reels to and fro:
And whilst some, sweating, do the Bells employ,
The Steeples know the cause, and dance for joy.
The lofty Towers, which o'er the rest do clime,
Do, with their singing Cannons too, keep time.
In fine, nought else but general Joy is seen;
Each action eccho'd with Long live the Queen.
The tongue-ty'd Babe, which can nor speak nor go,
Doth, with his shrug and smile, express it too:
His little gelly'd hands, joyn'd, seem to pray
Both for his Queen, and many such a day.
Great CHARLES, ere this, had heard a fresh Express
Speak Portmouths joy, and Britains happiness:
He straight glad London leaves; the first time he
Did leave her, that, he gone, she glad could be.
[Page 9] Her streets have fires too; but her hearts within
Have more, to sacrifice them to their Queen;
To whom, ere this, he swell'd with joy doth bring
Great Britains All, wrapt up in her great King:
And now they interview; but what they say
Is for the gods to speak, for us to pray.
May he now tie their hands, which ty'd their heart;
And may the world give end before they part.
May from them both, to future England spring
Such as himself, a good, a valiant King.
May also after-ages from them shine,
With such as she, a vertuous KATHARINE.
To this, let all but sea-men cry Amen:
May our blest Queen ne'er go to Sea agen.
FINIS.