Sivut kuvina


71 For, as all warlike nations take delight

So easy is thy sense, thy verse so sweet,
To hear how their brave ancestors could fight, Thy words so proper, and thy phrase so fit,

You have advanc'd to wonder their renown, We read, and read again, and still admire (fire!
And no less virtuously improv'd your own; Whence came this youth, and whence this wondrous
That 'twill be doubtful, whether you do write, Pardon this rapture, sir! But who can be
Or they have acted, at a nobler height.

Cold and unmov'd, yet have his thoughts on thee?
You, of your ancient princes, have retriev'd Thy goodness may my several faults forgive,
More than the ages knew in which they liv'd; And by your help these wretched lines may live.
Explain'd their customs and their rights anew,

But if, when view'd by your severer sight,
Better than all their druids ever knew;

They seem unworthy to behold the light,
Unriddled those dark oracles as well

Let them with speed in deserv'd flames be thrown!
As those that made them could themselves foretell. They'll send no sighs, nor murmur out a groan,
For, as the Britons long have hop'd in vain, But, dying silently, your justice own.
Arthur would come to govern them again,
You have fulfill'd that prophecy alone,
and in your poem plac'd him on his throne.
Such magic power has your prodigious pen,

To raise the dead, and give new life to men, When through the world fair Mazarine had run,
Make rival princes meet in arms and love, Bright as her fellow-traveller, the Sun,
Whom distant ages did so far remove.

Hither at length the Roman eagle flies,
For, as eternity has neither past

As the last triumph of her conquering eyes.
Nor future, authors say, nor first nor last, As heir to Julius, she may pretend
But is all instant, your eternal Muse

A second time to make this island bend;
All ages can to any one reduce.

But Portsmouth, springing from the ancient race
Then why should you, whose miracles of art Of Britons, which the Saxon here did chase,
Can life at pleasure to the dead impart,

As they great Cæsar did oppose, makes head,
Trouble in vain your better-busied head,

And does against this new invader lead.
observe what times they liv'd in, or were dead? That goodly nymph, the taller of the two,
For, since you have such arbitrary power, Careless and fearless to the field does go.
It were defect in judgment to go lower,

Becoming blushes on the other wait,
Or stoop to things so pitifully lewd,

And her young look excuses want of height.
As use to take the vulgar latitude.

Beauty gives courage; for she knows the day
For no man's fit to read what you have writ, Must not be won the Amazonian way.
That holds not some proportion with your wit: Legions of Cupids to the battle come,
As light can no way but by light appear,

For little Britain these, and those for Rome.
He must bring sense, that understands it here. Dress'd to advantage, this illustrious pair

Arriv'd, for combat in the list appear.
What may the Fates design! for never yet

From distant regions two such beauties met.

Venus had been an equal friend to both,

And Vict'ry to declare herself seems loath;

Over the camp with doubtful wings she fljes,
What all men wish'd, though few could hope to Till Chloris shining in the field she spies.
We are now blest with, and oblig'd by thee. (see, The lovely Chloris well-attended came,
Thou ! from the ancient learned Latin store, A thousand graces waited on the dame:
Giv'st us one author, and we hope for more. Her matchless form made all the English glad,
May they enjoy thy thoughts !- Let not the stage And foreign beauties less assurance had.
The idlest moment of thy hours engage.

Yet, like the three on Ida's top, they all
Each year that place some wondrous monster breeds, Pretend alike, contesting for the bali:
And the wits' garden is o'er-run with weeds. Which to determine, Love himself declin'd,
There farce is comedy ; bombast call'd strong ; Lest the neglected should become less kind.
Soft words, with nothing in them, make a song. Such killing looks! so thick the arrows fly!
'Tis hard to say they steal them now-a-days; That 'tis unsafe to be a stander-by.
For sure the ancients never wrote such plays. Poets, approaching to describe the fight,
These scribbling insects have what they deserve, Are by their wounds instructed how to write
Not plenty, nor the glory for to starve.

They with less hazard might look on, and draw
That Spenser knew, that Tasso felt before,

The ruder combats in Alsatia;
And Death found surly Ben exceeding poor. And, with that foil of violence and rage,
Heaven turn the omen from their image here! Set off the splendour of our golden age :
May he with joy the well-plac'd laurel wear! Where Love gives law, Beauty the sceptre sways,
Great Virgil's happier fortune may he find, And, uncompellid, the happy world obeys.
And be our Cæsar, like Augustus, kind!

But let not this disturb thy tuneful head;
Thou writ'st for thy delight, and not for bread:
Thou art not curst to write thy verse with care,
But art above what other poets fear.

What may we not expect from such a hand,
That has, with books, himself at free command?
Thou know'st in youth, what age has sought in vain, Thus mourn the Muses ! on the hearse
Anri bring'st forth sons without a mother's pain. Not strowing tears, but lasting verse ;



Which so preserves the hero's name,

Make the sea shine with gallantry, and all They make him live again in fame.

The English youth flock to their admiral, Chloris, in lines so like his own,

The valiant duke! whose early deeds abroad Gives him so just and high renown,

Such rage in fight, and art in conduct show'd. That she th' amicted world relieves,

His bright sword now.a dearer interest draws, And shows, that still in her he lives:

His brother's glory, and his country's cause. Her wit as graceful, great, and good;

Let thy bold pencil, hope and courage spread Ally'd in genius, as in blood.

Through the whole navy, by that hero led :
His loss supply'd, now all our fears

Make all appear, where such a prince is by,
Are, that the nymph should melt in tears, Resolv'd to conquer, or resolv'd to die.
Then, fairest Chloris! comfort take,

With his extraction, and his glorious mind,
For his, your own, and for our sake;

Make the proud sails swell, more than with the Lest bis fair soul, that lives in you,

Preventing cannon, make his louder fame (wigd : Should from the world for ever go.

Check the Batavians, and their fury tame.
So hungry wolves, though greedy of their prey,
Stop, when they find a lion in their way.

Make him bestride the ocean, and mankind

Ask his consent to use the sea and wind :
CHLORIS! what's eminent, we know,

While his tall ships in the barr'd channel stand, Must for some cause be valued so:

He grasps the Indies in his armed hand. Things without use, though they be good,

Paint an east-wind, and make it blow away Are not by us so understood.

Th' excuse of Holland for their navy's stay: The early Rose, made to display

Make them look pale, and, the bold prince to shan, Her blushes to the youthful May,

Through the cold north, and rocky regions run,

To find the coast where morning first appears,
Doth yield her sweets, since he is fair,
And courts her with a gentle air.

By the dark pole the wary Belgian steers ;
Our stars do show their excellence,

Confessing now, he dreads the English more Not by their light, but influence:

Than all the dangers of a frozen shore; When brighter comets, since still known,

While from our arms, security to find, Fatal to all, are lik'd by none.

They fly so far, they leave the day behind.

Describe their feet abandoning the sea, So, your admired beauty still

And all their merchants left a wealthy prey ;
Is, by effects, made good or ill.

Our first success in war make Bacchus crown,
And half the vintage of the year our own.
The Dutch their wine and all their brandy lose,

Disarm'd of that, from which their courage grows :

While the glad English, to relieve their toil,

In healths to their great leader drink the spoil. The failing blossoms, which a young plant bears,

His high commands to Afric's coast extend, Engage our hope for the succeeding years :

And make the Moors before the English bend : And hope is all which Art or Nature brings,

Those barbarous pirates willingly receive At the first trial, to accomplish things.

Conditions such as we are pleas'd to give. Mankind was first created an essay;

Deserted by the Dutch, let nations know, That ruder draught the deluge wash'd away.

We can our own and their great business do; How many ages pass'd, what blood and toil,

False friends chastise, and common foes restrain, Before we made one kingdom of this isle !

Which, worse than tempests, did infest the main. How long in vain had Nature striv'd to frame

Within those straits, make Holland's Smyrna fleet A perfect princess, ere her highness came? With a small squadron of the English meet ; For joys so great we must with patience wait,

Like falcons these, those like a numerous flock "Tis the set price of happiness complete.

Of fowl, which scatter to avoid the shock. As a first-fruit, Heaven claim'd that lovely boy :

There paint confusion in a various shape,
The next shall live, and be the nation's joy.

Some sink, some yield, and, flying, some escape.
Europe and Africa, from either shore,
Spectators are, and hear our cannon roar;

While the divided world in this agree,
INSTRUCTIONS TO A PALNTER, Men that fight so, deserve to rule the sea.

But, nearer home, thy pencil use once more,

And place our navy by the Holland shore; OF HIS HIGHNESS-ROYAL: TOGETHER WITH THE BAT

The world they compass'd while they fought with TLE AND VICTORY OBTAINED OVER THE DUTCA, JUNE

But here already they resign the main : (Spain, 3, 1665.

Those greedy mariners, out of whose way

Diffusive Nature could no region lay, First draw the sea; that portion, which between At home, preserv'd from rocks and tempests, lie, The greater world, and this of ours, is seen: Compellid, like others, in their beds to die. Here place the British, there the Holland feet, Their single towns th’ Iberian armies prest; Vast Boating armies! both prepard to meet. We all their provinces at once invest, Draw the whole world, expecting who should reign, And in a month ruin their traffic more, After this combat, o'er the conquer'd main. 'Than that long war could in an age before. Make Heaven concern'd, and an unusual star But who can always on the billows lie? Peclare th' importance of th' approaching war, The wat'ry wilderness yields no supply.

Spreading our sails, to Harwich we resort, Three worthy persons 7 from his side it tore,
And meet the beauties of the British court. And dy'd his garment with their scatter'd gore.
Th' illustrious dutchess, and her glorious train, Happy! to whom this glorious death arrives,
(Like Thetis with her nymphs) adorn the main. More to be valued than a thousand lives!
The gazing sea-gods, since the Paphian queen On such a theatre as this to die,
Sprung from among them, no such sight had seen. Por such a cause, and such a witness by !
Charm'd with the graces of a troop so fair,

Who would not thus a sacrifice be made,
Those deathless powers for us themselves declare, To have his blood on such an altar laid ?
Resolv'd the aid of Neptune's court to bring, The rest about him strook with horrour stood,
And help the nation where such beauties spring: To see their leader cover'd o'er with blood.
The soldier here his wasted store supplies,

So trembled Jacob, when he thought the stainsAnd takes new valour from the ladies' eyes. Of his son's coat had issued from his veins.

Meanwhile, like bees when stormy winter's gone, He feels no wound, but in his troubled thought; The Dutch (as if the sea were all their own) Before for honour, now revenge, he fought: Desert their ports, and, falling in their way, His friends in pieces torn (the bitter news Our Hamburgh merchants are become their prey. Not brought by Fame) with his own eyes he views. Thus flourish they, before th' approaching fight, His mind at once reflecting on their youth, As dying tapers give a blazing light.

Their worth, their love, their valour, and their truth, To check their pride, our fleet half victual'd goes, The joys of court, their mothers, and their wives, Enough to serve us till we reach our foes;

To follow him, abandon'd--and their lives ! Who now appear so numerous and bold,

He storms, and shoots : but flying bullets now,
The action worthy of our arms we hold.

To execute his rage, appear too slow :
A greater force than that which here we find They miss, or sweep but common souls away;
Ne'er press'd the ocean, nor employ'd the wind. For such a loss, Opdam his life must pay.
Restrain'd awhile by the unwelcome night,

Encouraging his men, he gives the word,
Th' impatient English scarce attend the light. With fierce intent that hated ship to board,
But now the morning (heaven severely clear!) And make the guilty Dutch, with his own arm,
To the fierce work indulgent does appear;

Wait on his friends, while yet their blood is warm.
And Phoebus lifts above the waves his light, His winged vessel like an eagle shows,
That he might see, and thus record, the fight. When through the clouds to truss a swan she goes:

As when loud winds from different quarters rush, The Belgian ship unmov'd, like some huge rock Vast clouds encount'ring one another crush: Inhabiting the sea, expects the shock. With swelling sails, so, from their sev'ral coasts, From both the fleets men's eyes are bent this way, Join the Batavian and the British hosts.

Neglecting all the bus'ness of the day:
For a less prize, with less concern and rage, Bullets their flight, and guns their noise suspend;
The Roman fleets at Actium did engage:

The silent ocean does th' event attend,
They, for the empire of the world they knew, Which leader shall the doubtful vict'ry bless,
These, for the old contend, and for the new. And give an earnest of the war's success,
At the first shock, with blood and powder stain'd, When Heaven itself, for England to declare,
Nor heaven nor sea their former face retain'd: Turns ship, and men, and tackle into air.
Pury and art produce effects so strange,

Their new commander from his charge is tost,
They trouble Nature, and her visage change. Which that young prince 8 had so unjustly lost,
Where burning ships the banish'd Sun supply, Whose great progenitors, with better fate,
And no light shines, but that by which men die, And better conduct, sway'd their infant state.
There York appears; so prodigal is he

His flight tow'rds Heaven th’aspiring Belgian took; Of royal blood, as ancient as the sea !

But fell, like Phaëton, with thunder strook :
Which down to him, so many ages told,

From vaster hopes than his, he seem'd to fall,
Has through the veins of mighty monarchs roll'd! That durst attempt the British admiral:
The great Achilles march'd not to the field, From her broadsides a ruder flame is thrown,
Till Vulcan that impenetrable shield

Than from the fiery chariot of the Sun:
And arms had wrought: yet there no bullets flew; That bears the radiant ensign of the day,
But shafts, and darts, which the weak Phrygians And she, the flag that governs in the sea.
Our bolder hero on the deck does stand (threw.

The duke (ill-pleas'd that fire should thus prevent Expos'd, the bulwark of his native land;

The work, which for his brighter sword he meant) Defensive arms laid by as useless here,

Anger still burning in his valiant breast,
Where massy balls the neighbouring rocks do tear. Goes to complete revenge upon the rest.
Some pow'r unseen those princes does protect, So, on the guardless herd, their keeper slain,
Who for their country thus themselves neglect. Rushes a tiger in the Lybian plain.

Against him first Opdam his squadron leads, The Dutch, accustom'd to the raging sea,
Proud of his late success against the Swedes, And in black storms the frowns of Heaven to see,
Made by that action, and his high command, Never met tempest which more urg'd their fears,
Worthy to perish by a prince's hand,

Than that which in the prince's look appears.
The tall Batavian in a vast ship rides,

Fierce, goodly, young! Mars he resembles, when
Bearing an army in her hollow sides;

Jove sends him down to scourge perfidious men;
Yet, not inclin'd the English ship to board, Such as with foul ingratitude have paid,
More on his guns relies, than on his sword; Both those that led, and those that gave them aid.
From whence a fatal volley we receiv'd,
It miss'd the duke, but his great heart it grier'd: 7 Earl of Falmouth, lord Muskerry, and Mr.


☆ Prince of Orange,

6 Venus.

Where he gives on, disposing of their fates, Thus cry the people ;--and, their land to keep,
Terrour, and death, on his loud cannon waits, Allow our title to command the deep :
With which he pleads his brother's cause so well, Blaming their States' ill conduct, to provoke
He shakes the throne to which he does appeal. Those arms, which freed them from the Spanish yoke.
The sea with spoils his angry bullets strow,

Painter! excuse me, if I have awhile
Widows and orphans making as they go :

Forgot thy art, and us'd another style : Before his ship, fragments of vessels torn,

For, though you draw arm'd heroes as they sit, Flags, arms, and Belgian carcasses, are bome, The task in battle does the Muses fit : And his despairing foes, to flight inclin’d,

They, in the dark confusion of a fight, Spread all their canvass to invite the wind.

Discover all, instruct us how to write, So the rude Boreas, where he lists to blow,

And light and honour to brave actions yield, Makes clouds above, and billows fly below,

Hid in the smoke and tumult of the field. Beating the shore; and with a boisterous rage, Ages to come shall know that leader's toil, Does Heaven at once, and Earth, and sea, engage. And his great name, on whom the Muses smile:

The Dutch, elsewhere, did through the wat'ry field Their dictates here let thy fam'd pencil trace, Perform enough to have made others yield; And this relation with thy colours grace. But English courage, growing as they fight, Then draw the parliament, the nobles met ; In danger, noise, and slaughter takes delight: And our great monarch 9 high above them set : Their bloody task, unweary'd still, they ply, Like young Augustus let his image be, Only restrain'd by death or victory.

Triumphing for that victory at sea, Iron and lead, from Earth's dark entrails torn, Where Egypt's queen "o, and eastern kings, o'erLike showers of hail, from either side are bome: Made the possession of the world his own. [thrown, So high the rage of wretched mortals goes,

Last draw the commons at his royal feet,
Hurling their mother's bowels at their foes ! Pouring out treasure to supply his fleet :
Ingenious to their ruin, every age

They vow with lives and fortune to maintain
Improves the arts and instruments of rage: Their king's eternal title to the main :
Death-hastening ills Nature enough has sent, And, with a present to the duke, approve
And yet men still a thousand more invent! His valour, conduct, and his country's love.

But Bacchus now, which led the Belgians on
So fierce at first, to favour us begun:
Brandy and wine (their wonted friends) at length

Render them useless, and betray their strength.
So corn in fields, and in the garden flow'rs,

Great sir! disdain not in this piece to stand
Revive, and raise themselves, with moderate showers; Supreme commander both of sea and land:
But, overcharg'd with never-ceasing rain,

Those which inhabit the celestial bower Become too moist, and bend their heads again. Painters express with emblems of their power ; Their reeling ships on one another fall,

His club Alcides, Phoebus has his bow, Without a foe, enough to ruin all.

Jove has his thunder, and your navy you. Of this disorder, and the favouring wind,

But your great providence no colours here The watchful English such advantage find,

Can represent, nor pencil draw that care, Ships fraught with fire among the heap they throw, Which keeps you waking to secure our peace, And up the so-intangled Belgians blow.

The nation's glory, and our trade's increase: The flame invades the powder-rooms; and then

You, for these ends, whole days in council sit; Their guns shoot bullets, and their vessels men. And the diversions of your youth forget. The scorch'd Batavians on the billows float;

Small were the worth of valour and of force, Sent from their own, to pass in Charon's, boat. If your high wisdom govern’d not their course: And now our royal admiral success

You as the soul, as the first mover, you (With all the marks of victory) does bless: Vigour and life on every part bestow : The burning ships, the taken, and the slain, How to build ships, and dreadful ordnance cast, Proclaim his triumph o'er the conquer'd main.

Instruct the artists, and reward their haste. Nearer to Holland as their hasty fight

So Jove himself, when Typhon Heaven does brave, Carries the noise and tumult of the fight,

Descends to visit Vulean's smoky cave, His cannons' roar, forerunner of his fame,

Teaching the brawny Cyclops how to frame Makes their Hague tremble, and their Amsterdam: His thunder, mix'd with terrour, wrath, and fame. The British thunder does their houses rock,

Had the old Greeks discover'd your abode, And the duke seems at every door to knock.

Crete had not been the cradle of their god: His dreadful streamer (like a comet's hair,

On that small island they had look'd with scom; Threatening destruction) hastens their despair; And in Great Britain thought the thunderer born. Makes them deplore their scatter'd fleet as lost, And fear our present landing on their coast.

The trembling Dutch th' approaching prince beAs sheep a lion, leaping tow'rds their fold: (hold, RUIN OF THE TURKISH EMPIRE: Those piles, which serve them to repel the main, They think too weak his fury to restrain. “What wonders may not English valour work, Led by th' example of victorious York ?

Since James the Second grac'd the British throne, Or what defence against him can they make,

Truce, well-observ'd, has been infring'd by none : Who, at such distance, does their country shake? His fatal hand their bulwarks will o'erthrow;

9 King Charles II. Cleopatra. And let in both the ocean and the foe.”

· King Charles II.





your line.



75 Christians to him their present union owe, Wishing you may with as great pleasure view And late success against the common foe: This, as we take in gazing upon you. While neighb'ring princes, loath to urge their fate, Thus we writ then : your brighter eyes inspire Court his assistance, and suspend their hate. À nobler flame, and raise our genius high’r. So angry bulls the combat do forbear,

While we your wit and early knowledge fear, When from the wood a lion does appear.

To our productions we become severe:
This happy day peace to our island sent, Your matchless beauty gives our fancy wing;
As now he gives it to the continent.

Your judgment makes us careful how we sing. A prince more fit for such a glorious task,

Lines not compos'd, as heretofore, in haste, Than England's king, from Heaven we cannot ask : Polish'd like marble, shall like marble last, He (great and good !) proportion'd to the work, And make you through as many ages shine, Their ill-drawn swords shall turn against the Turk. As Tasso has the heroes of

Such kings, like stars with influence unconfin'd, Though other names our wary writers use, Shine with aspect propitious to mankind,

You are the subject of the British Muse : Favour the innocent, repress the bold,

Dilating mischief to yourself unknown, And, while they flourish, make an Age of Gold. Men write, and die of wounds they dare not

Bred in the camp, fam'd for his valour young;
At sea successful, vigorous, and strong;

So the bright sun burns all our grass away,
His fleet, his army, and his mighty mind, While it means nothing but to give us day.
Esteem and reverence through the world do find.
A prince, with such advantages as these,
Where he persuades not, may commaud a peace.

THESE VERSES WERE WRIT IN THE TASSO OF Britain declaring for the juster side,

The most ambitious will forget their pride:
They that complain will their endeavours cease,

Tasso knew how the fairer sex to grace;
Advis'd by him, inclin'd to present peace,

But in no one durst all perfection place:
Join to the Turk's destruction, and then bring

In her alone that owns this book, is seen
All their pretences to so just a king.

Clorinda's spirit, and her lofty mien,
If the successful troublers of mankind,

Sophronia's piety, Erminia's truth,
With laurel crown'd, so great applause do find ;

Armida's charms, her beauty, and her youth.
Shall the vex'd world less honour yield to those Our princess here, as in a glass, does dress
That stop their progress, and their rage oppose ?

Her well-taught mind, and every grace express.
Next to that power which does the ocean awe,

More to our wonder than Rinaldo fought,
Is, to set bounds, and give ambition law.

The hero's race excels the poet's thought.
The British monarch shall the glory have,
That famous Greece remains no longer slave:
That source of art, and cultivated thought!
Which they to Rome, and Romans hither, brought.

The banish'd Muses shall no longer moum;
But may with liberty to Greece return:

Though slaves (like birds that sing not in a cage) Ingenious Higgons never sought
They lost their genius and poetic rage;
Homers again, and Pindars, may be found;

To hide the candour of her thought;
And his great actions with their numbers crown'd. And now her clothes are lost, we find

The Turk's vast empire does united stand :

nymph as naked as her mind:
Christians, divided under the command

Like Eve while yet she was untaught

To hide herself or know a fault.
Of jarring princes, would be soon undone,
Did not this hero make their interest one:

For a snatch'd ribbon she would frown,
Peace to embrace, ruin the common foe,

But cares too little for her gown;
Exalt the cross, and lay the crescent low.

It makes her laugh, and all her grief

Is lest it should undo the thief.
Thus may the gospel to the rising Sun
Be spread, and flourish where it first begun:

Already she begins to stretch

Her wit, to save the guilty' wretch,
And this great day (so justly honour'd here !)
Known to the East, and celebrated there!)

And says, she was of goods bereft'

By her own bounty, not by theft.
Hæc ego longævus cecini tibi, maxime regum!

She thought not fit to keep her clothes
Ausus et ipse manu juvenum tentare laborem.

Till they were eaten up with moths,
Virg. But made a nobler use of store,

To cloth the naked and the poor.

Should all that do approve the fair
Her loss contribute to repair,

Of London she would have the fate,

And rise (undone) in greater state,
Madam! I here present you with the rage,

In points, and hoods, and Indian gown,
And with the beauties of a former age,

As glorious as the new-built town.



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