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What they would fpare our fiercer art destroys,
Surpaffing ftorms in terrour and in noise.
Once Jove from Ida did both hosts survey,
And, when he pleas'd to thunder, part the fray;
Here heav'n in vain that kind retreat should found;
The louder cannon had the thunder drown'd.
Some we made prize; while others, burnt and rent,65
With their rich lading to the bottom went:
Down finks at once (fo Fortune with us fports!)
The pay of armies, and the pride of courts.
Vain man! whose rage buries as low that store
As avarice had digg'd for it before:

What earth in her dark bowels, could not keep
From greedy hands, lies fafer in the deep,
Where Thetis kindly does from mortals hide
Thofe feeds of luxury, debate, and pride.

And now into her lap the richest prize

Fell with the nobleft of our enemies:

The Marquis *, (glad to see the fire destroy
Wealth that prevailing foes were to enjoy)
Out from his flaming ship his children sent,

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To perish in a milder element ;

Then laid him by his burning lady's fide,

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And, fince he could not save her, with her dy’d.
Spices and gums about them melting fry,
And, phoenix-like, in that rich neft they die :
Alive, in flames of equal love they burn'd,
And now together are to ashes turn'd;
* Of Bajadoz.

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Ashes! more worth than all their fun'ral cost,
Than the huge treasure which was with them loft.
Thefe dying lovers, and their floating fons,
Sufpend the fight, and filence all our guns:
Beauty and youth about to perish, finds
Such noble pity in brave English minds,
That (the rich spoil forgot, their valour's prize)
All labour now to fave their enemies.

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How frail our paffions! how foon changed are 95
Our wrath and fury to a friendly care!

They that but now for honour and for plate
Made the fea blufh with blood, refign their hate;
And, their young foes endeav'ring to retrieve,
With greater hazard than they fought they dive. Ico
With these returns victorious Montagu,

With laurels in his hand, and half Peru.
Let the brave generals divide that bough,
Our great Protector hath fuch wreaths enough:
His conqu❜ring head has no more room for bays: 1c5
Then let it be as the glad nation prays;

Let the rich ore forthwith be melted down,
And the ftate fix'd by making him a crown:
With ermine clad, and purple, let him hold
A royal fceptre, made of Spanish gold.

L.

UPON THE DEATH OF

THE LORD PROTECTOR.

We must refign! Heav'n his great foul does claim

In ftorms, as loud as his immortal fame :

His dying groans, his last breath, shakes our ifle,
And trees uncut fall for his fun'ral pile;
About his palace their broad roots are toft
Into the air.So Romulus was loft!

New Rome in fuch a tempeft mifs'd her king,
And from obeying fell to worshipping.
On Oeta's top thus Hercules lay dead,
With ruin'd paks and pines about him spread.
The poplar, too, whose bough he wont to wear
On his victorious head, lay postrate there.
Thofe his laft fury from the mountain rent:
Our dying hero from the continent

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Ravish'd whole towns, and forts from Spaniards reft,
As his last legacy to Britain left.

The ocean, which fo long our hopes confin'd,
Could give no limits to his vafter mind;
Our bounds' enlargement was his latest toil,
Nor hath he left us pris'ners to our ifle :
Under the tropick is our language spoke,
And part of Flanders hath receiv'd our yoke.

Volume I.

M

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From civil broils he did us difengage,
Found nobler objects for our martial rage;
And, with wife conduct, to his country show'd
The ancient way of conquering abroad.
Ungrateful then! if we no tears allow

To him that gave us peace and empire too.
Princes that fear'd him grieve, concern'd to fee
No pitch of glory from the grave is free.

Nature herself took notice of his death,

And, fighing, fwell'd the fea with fuch a breath,
That to remoteft fhores her billows roll'd,
Th' approaching fate of their great ruler told.

LI.

ON ST. JAMES'S PARK,

AS LATELY IMPROVED BY HIS MAJESTY..

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Or the first Paradife there's nothing found;
Plants fet by Heav'n are vanish'd, and the ground;
Yet the description lafts; who knows the fate
Of lines that fhall this paradife relate?
Inftead of rivers rolling by the fide

Of Eden's garden, here flows in the tide :
The sea, which always ferv'd his empire, now
Pays tribute to our Prince's pleasure too.
Of famous cities we the founders know;

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But rivers, old as seas, to which they go,

ΤΟ

Are Nature's bounty: 't is of more renown
To make a river than to build a town.

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For future shade, young trees upon the banks Of the new stream appear in even ranks: The voice of Orpheus, or Amphion's hand, In better order could not make them stand: May they increase as fast, and spread their boughs, As the high fame of their great owner grows! May he live long enough to fee them all Dark shadows cast, and as his palace tall! Methinks I fee the love that shall be made, The lovers walking in that am'rous shade, The gallants dancing by the river fide; They bathe in fummer, and in winter flide. Methinks I hear the musick in the boats, And the loud echo which returns the notes, While over head a flock of new sprung fowl Hangs in the air, and does the fun control, Dark'ning the sky: they hover o'er, and fhrowd The wanton failors with a feather'd cloud. Beneath a fhoal of filver fishes glides, And plays about the gilded barges' fides: The ladies angling in the crystal lake, Feast on the waters with the prey they take : At once victorious with their lines and eyes, They make the fishes and the men their prize. A thousand Cupids on the billows ride, And fea-nymphs enter with the fwelling tide;

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