A POEM, Occasion'd by the General PEACE.
By J. W. Gent.
Jam Fides, & Pax, & Honor, Pudorque
Priscus, & neglecta redire Virtus
Audet, apparetque beata pleno
Copia Cornu.
Hor. Car. Sec.
LONDON, Printed for Robert Battersby at Staple-Inn-Gate, near the Barrs, in Holbourn, 1698.
A POEM, Occasioned by the General Peace.
COuld to Virgil's loftiest Flights attain,
To sing the Heroe in immortal Strain,
Like Pindar, with aspiring Fancy raise
Past Human Reach, above the endless Skies,
And sing of Gods and Heroes in his Lays.
In what great Numbers would I then rehearse?
In boundless Thought, and never-dying Verse?
What mighty Deeds by Albion's Monarch done,
What Battels fought, and early Trophies won?
Tell the whole World, how at the rapid Boyne,
Undaunted, He amid'st a Thousand Slain,
Through dang'rous Torrents at his Army's Head,
Like Caesar Conquer'd, and like Caesar led:
Whilst fawning Waves, and every guilty Stream
Lay still, as conscious 'twas the Mighty HIM.
There Conq'ring, crush'd at once a Springing War,
And sought new Laurels on a distant Shoar.
Pitch'd his Victorious Banners in the Feild,
Which the whole World with wondring Terrour fill'd.
Next Namure's Siege his Daring Courage try'd,
Namure! which on her mighty Forts rely'd:
Built Strong by Art, by Nature made secure,
From bold Attempts of a far greater Pow'r.
But when the Great NASSAƲ before it came,
NASSAƲ Recorded in the List of Fame.
How did the Town at his Approaches fear?
How bravely fought, 'twixt Safety and Despair?
Till with assailing Foes encompass'd round,
They the true Conduct of our Heroe found;
Beheld Him wrapt in Clouds of circling Smoke,
Which from the Town in Thund'ring Language broke,
Whilst thro' his Camp, the Bombs in louder strain,
Those lesser Murmurs Eccho'd back again:
Their num'rous Armies looking vainly on,
Saw how He fought, and with what Praise he won
Immortal Glory, and th'amazing Town.
How did his Fame to farthest Regions move?
Swift as the Lightning from the Hand of Jove,
Become a Terrour to th'amazing Gaul,
As to Old Rome, was the Young Conqu'ring Hannibal.
Why do I talk of Namure and the Boyne,
Are those his only noted Vict'ries won?
Let Steinkirk, Landen, Mons, Athlone, declare
What Deeds He acted, and what Toils He bore:
Deeds! well ingrav'd, and seen upon each Place,
Shall far out-live all Monumental Brass;
And will to future wondring Times be shown,
Whilst fleeting Years in endless Circles run,
And last, till dull Eternity be gone.
Nor is his mighty Pow'r and large Command,
Barr'd to the scanty Limits of the Land;
But in his Fleets, renown'd for Golden Trade,
To th'utmost Bounds of Natures-Self convey'd.
His Marine Power's, so greatly Fam'd for War,
That strike th'unknown, like the Old World, with Fear:
With Canvas Wings, sail on the swelling Tide,
Dance o'er the Waves, and on the Surges Ride;
Thro' the vast Plains they cut their Liquid Way,
To them each Land their willing Tributes pay.
The Sooty Indian, when the Fleet arrives,
His richest Gems, and dearest Presents gives.
The watry Nymphs to them their Corals bear;
Menander Swans, and Tagus Golden Oar;
Neptune to them does silently submit,
And lays his Trident at the British Heroe's Feet.
Kings that have Rule beneath the Frozen Zone,
And perfect Strangers to th' All-seeing Sun,
Crawl from the Summit of the World's great Frame,
To pay Respect to Conqu'ring NASSAƲ's Fame.
Thro' pathless Ways, o'er the Cold Alpes they go,
And Mountains buried in Eternal Snow;
Cross Floods that rowl like Cataracts of Nile,
In vast Impetuous Torrents down the Hill,
Saw with amazing Pleasure ev'ry Town,
'Gainst Gallick Troops by Albion's Forces won:
Then to Victorious WILLIAM's Camp repair,
And saw how Great the Heroe did appear,
All Stern and Raging, like the God of War.
What pleasing Change did the new Sight create?
How warm their Brests, with a Young Martial Heat?
Which thro' their glowing Veins diffus'dly ran,
And bade the Great NASSAƲ to Slaughter lead them on.
His Sight refreshing, like a Morning Beam,
Adds Day to Night, and a new Face to Time;
Makes Nature wanton in his ripening Rays,
And Belgia Drunk with indigested Joys.
Yet Britian, pensive with continual Care,
Looks with Impatience to her Rival Shoar:
Fearful and Trembling at her Monarch's Stay,
Bids the dull Hours anticipate the Day.
With Sighs and Pray'rs, she Courts the heedless Wind,
Speaks to the swelling Surges to be kind:
And waft him safe o'er vast Tempestuous Seas,
Crown'd with Eternal Victory and Peace.
Far from the dismal Noise of Angry War,
Within her longing Arms, to rest for ever here.
But see, He comes Triumphant o're the Main,
The Seas grow Calm, the Heavens are all Serene.
The Nereids sporting on the Surges sit,
And Crowding Sea-Gods stop the hastning Fleet:
The Nymphs proclaim Victorious WILLIAM's Praise,
And Triton tells it to the list'ning Seas;
The Waves on gentle Steps move slowly on,
And grieve to lose his Royal Weight so soon:
Whil'st Thronging Subjects spread the spacious Shoar,
And with his Praises rend the patient Air:
From ev'ry Fort Discharged Cannons play,
(No longer Dreadful) sostest Sounds of Joy;
BRITANNIA rising from her Oozy Bed,
Where She in short and silent Slumbers laid.
Old ALBION saw, with flowing Joys grown young,
Prepar'd to meet the Heroe with this Song.
WILLIAM! thou mighty Off-spring of a God,
On us, by Heavens Almighty Power bestow'd:
Heaven propitious to our sinking Isle,
T'appoint our happy Genius here to Rule.
When we regardless of our Danger lay,
Saw Forein Kings stretch Conquests ev'ry way,
And Tyger-like, devour th'unguarded Prey.
But thy Victorious Arm their Troops subdu'd,
Thy Pow'rful Rays dispers'd their threatning Cloud;
Made GALLIA tremble at thy sure Success,
And Her proud King to humbly sue for Peace.
Peace! in what distant Regions hast thou been?
Where so long Exil'd from our Sight hast lain?
EƲROPE could give thee no secure Retreat,
Nor ALBION room to rest thy weary'd Feet.
Wert Thou to PARTHIA, to the INDIES gone?
Sought'st Thou new Worlds, unpeopled and unknown?
Ev'n there the Fruitful Seeds of jarring War,
Grow without Culture, or the Tillers Care.
Did'st Thou not on the Heavens Great AXIS tread,
Whilst Fire and Sword did the whole World invade?
See Towns, whose Spires once reach'd the Azure Sky,
Now low Intomb'd in their own Ashes lye,
The' effects of Rage, and a Proud Gallick Enemy.
'Till the Great WILLIAM to thy Aid was seen,
To lend his Warlike and all Conqu'ring Arm,
And Shield each Part of Thee from ev'ry Harm;
Whil'st to his ALBION's Ark, He drew Thee safely in.
Say! Welcom Peace, by Antients thought Divine,
Say, in what Words shall I thy Pow'r define;
Teach me thy blest Original, to trace,
And prove thy Being from some Heavenly Race.
Thee whom the Chaos wrapt in gloomy Shade,
Thro' a long Chain of unknown Time obey'd,
Each stirring Atom in the diff'ring Heap,
Aw'd with thy Presence melted into Sleep:
No Rebel Seeds did the great Mass divide,
The smallest Part its own dear Rights injoy'd.
Thus whil'st the ALL in jumbled Order lay,
And pleas'd with disagreeing Harmony,
Beside thy Self, it knew no other Deity.
But when the God of Nature spoke the Word,
A kinder Scene of a New World appear'd;
An Infant Sun did the large Globe Survey,
And Darkness fled before his Rising Day.
All things look'd then so Innocent and Young,
Birds undisturb'd on the green Branches sung,
And Silver Streams crept silently along.
The Happy Mortals in soft Slumbers laid,
Bless'd with a Beech-Tree's thick and growing Shade:
No Breast was troubled yet with biting Care,
No Mind was fearful of approaching War.
The Trumpets Clangor shook no tremb'ling Plain,
Nor were there Engines of Destruction seen;
They Food from Neighb'ring Bushes did receive,
And only eat what bounteous Nature gave:
None labour'd hard for a next Years Increase,
Yet soon grew rich in Honesty and Ease.
But the succeeding Ages brought to light,
Arms, War, and Bloodshed, Rapine and Deceit;
Ambition, Int'rest, Discord, crowded in,
And num'rous Ills quite chang'd the former Scene.
Which long o'er Man in various Humours reign'd,
At length in one great monstrous Body joyn'd,
Which with its Greatness did the World invade,
O'er-power'd Countries, Towns in Ruins laid.
'Till Great NASSAW the growing Ill withstood,
Destroy'd the Fiend, and slew the Hellish Brood;
He the Britannick Conqu'ring Hercules
From threatning Harms his Joyful Albion frees,
And with his Sword, obtains the wish'd-for Peace.
Fly all the Zephyrs with unusual haste,
Touch on yon' Mountain, on that farthest Coast;
There peaceful Branches from the Olive tear,
And to the Presence of your Monarch bear:
You Cupids too, that Revel in his Ray,
And all around his shining Brightness play.
Fly to the Delphian Groves, and quickly come
With verdant Laurels laden richly home;
Strip every Branch from the Coy Blushing Maid,
And tell Her, 'tis for the New Horoe's Head.
But Oh! how vain must the Young Bard appear,
(Whose flagging Wings can't reach so high a Sphere?)
Who with unusual Boldness, dares proclaim
His uncouth Lays on so sublime a Theame?
Yet what dull Fancy could be longer still,
And no soft Pow'rs of Charming Muses feel?
When Europe's Fate, the Great NASSAƲ is come
From War and Slaughter, Crown'd with Laurels Home;
New Thoughts untry'd, my ruder Breast inspire,
And warming Zeal sets my whole Soul on Fire:
Yet in the bold Attempting of his Praise,
How am I hurri'd to some Erring Maze?
On Wings of lawless thronging Fancies tost,
And my whole Thoughts in the vast Perspective, are lost.
FINIS.