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Now he himself for pity prays,

His love in timorous sighs he breathes, While all his spoils, and glorious wreaths Of laurel, at her feet the vanquish'd warrior lays. Great prince! by that submission you'll gain

more

Than e'er your haughty courage won before;
Here on your knees a greater trophy gain,
Than that you brought from Lunsden's famous
plain;

Where, when your brother, fired with success,
Too daringly upon the foe did press,
And was a captive made, then you alone
Did with your single arm support the throne:
Your gen'rous breast, with fury boiling o'er,
Like lightning through their scatter'd troops you
flew,
[umph bore.

And from th' amazed foe the royal prize in tri-
You have your ancestors in this one act out-done,
Though their successful arms did this whole isle
o'er-run.

They, to revenge a ravish'd lady, came, You, to enjoy one spotless as your fame: Before them, as they march'd, the country fled, And back behind them threw Their curses as they flew;

On the bleak shore, expecting you, they stand, And with glad shouts conduct to land: Through gaping crowds you're forc'd to press [ones pray. While virgins sigh, the young men shout, and old And with this beauteous lady you may gain, (This lady, that alone

your way,

Of greater value is than any throne) Without that rapine, guilt, and hate,

By a calm and even fate,

[maintain.

That empire, which they did so short a while

ODE

ON THE SAME OCCASION'.

HINC, hinc, Camœnæ, cedite inutiles,
Nam cor potenti numine gaudium
Afflavit, exultansque pectus
Corripuit meliore flammâ.
Talesque cantus fundere gestio,
Ismene, quales auribus hauseras
Utrisque, quandò Dithyrambis
Pindarus incaluit solutis.
Dum nescit æquo flumine gaudium
Prolabi, et arctis limitibus, vagè
Nunc huc redundans, nunc retrorsum,
Vorticibus furit inquietis.
Adsis, triumphos dum canimus tuos,
Adsis, Cupido, illabere pectori :
Dum personamus te, decoris

Carminibus, bona Cypris, adsis.
Cypron beatam sperne volatilis,
Huc, hue amorum septa cohortibus,
Molire gressus, ad Britannos
Cærulcos age, Diva, currus.

1 From the Hymenæus Catabrigiensis. Cantabrigiæ, 1683,-Sce the preceding poem by Mr. Montagu, in English, on the same occasion. This Latin Ode (or rather MEDLEY) is much better than his English piece. KYNASTON.

VOL. IX.

Fallor? au ex lævâ Convexi parte sereni

Diva vocata venit?

Ecce! citis magnum (pendens in verbere prona)
Tranat inane rotis.

Fronde .comas, auroque premit pulcherrima,
Qualis adire solet.
[Martem
Gaudia, Blanditias, hilari vultuque renidens
Spargit ubique Jocos.

Lascivus pictas jaetantior explicat alas
Idaliusque puer.

Adventu dispersa Deæ sunt nubila, venti
Nec fremuêre minis.

Dum Nymphas una ante alias formosior omnes,
Dignaque cura Deæ,

Sic pæana canit, cœlum et modulamine complet Vox sociata lyræ:

"Egregiam laudem, Venus, et spolia ampla refertis

Tuque, puerque tuus; si virgo Britannica victa
Agnoscat numen (mentem jam saucia) vestrum.
Si votis, si sæva ullis insueta moveri,

Aut precibus præbere suas tractabilis aures,
Illum jam sentit, quem non miserata furorem est.
"Fervidus et Daniæ princeps, cui prælia curæ,
(Detestata tibi) pictis et splendor in armis,
Qui nec militiam vestram, nec castra, Cupido,
Novit, sed flammas et inania spicula risit,
Dum trepidos Suecos ardens agit æquore campi,
Jam Venerem accipiens invicto pectore totam,
Extendit palmas ad numina læsa rebelles.

"Jam non bella placent, et lituo lyram
Præfert, atque caput Itali casside ferreâ
Urgeri solitum, divitis Itali

Unguentum redolens, suæ

"Reclinat gremio conjugis; immemor
Somni, dumque vagis luminibus Deam
Perlustrat, roseis oscula quæ labris
Libavit sitiens bibit,

"Deponitque gravi militiâ latus
Defessum in thalamo lætus amabili:
Hâc mercede juvant vulnera, sic caput
Objecisse periculis.

"Plaudit, Dione, læta Britannia,
Olim cruentum nec meminit mare,
Fusosve cives indecorè, aut
Regna Dano populata forti;
"Hæc dum renidens vindicat omnia
Pulchris ocellis Anna, Georgium
Ducensque captivum catenis,

Per thalamum graditur triumphans.
"Tuisque surgit laudibus Haffnia,
Volvendo retrò secula præcinens,
Cum Cimber Anglo junctus omni
Det trepido sura jura mundo.
"lö Dione! Suecia jam canit,
Pulsos colonos dun neque fulgidis
Deterret armis, nec tremendo
Georgius indomitus tumultu.
"Vos, par beatum, ter, ter et ampliùs,
Vos obligatam ferte Deæ dapem,
Semperque amantes hanc benignam
Perpetuo celebrate plausu!"

CAROLUS MONTAGU, Generosus, et A. M. Trin. Coll

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THE MAN OF HONOUR.

OCCASIONED BY

A POSTSCRIPT OF PENN'S LETTER.

Nor all the threats or favour of a crown,

A prince's whisper, or a tyrant's frown,
Can awe the spirit, or allure the mind,
Of him, who to strict honour is inclin'd.

When Danger calls and Honour leads the way,
With joy they follow, and with pride obey:
When the rebellious foe came rolling on,
And shook with gathering multitudes the throne,
Where were the minions then? What arm, what
force,

Could they oppose to stop the torrent's course?
"Then Pembroke, then the nobles firmly stood,
Free of their lives, and lavish of their blood;

Though all the pomp and pleasure that does wait But, when your orders to mean ends decline,

On public places, and affairs of state,
Should fondly court him to be base and great;
With even passions, and with settled face,
He would remove the harlot's false embrace.
Though all the storms and tempests should arise,
That church-magicians in their cells advise,
And from their settled basis nations tear,
He would unmov'd the mighty ruin bear;
Secure in innocence contemn them all,
And decently array'd in honours fall.

For this, brave Shrewsbury and Lumley's name
Shall stand the foremost in the list of Fame;
Who first with steady minds the current broke,
And to the suppliant monarch boldly spoke:

"Great sir, renown'd for constancy, how just
Have we obey'd the crown, and serv'd our trust,
Espous'd your cause and interest in distress,
Yourself must witness, and our foes confess!
Permit us then ill Fortune to accuse,
That you at last unhappy councils use,
And ask the only thing we must refuse.
Our lives and fortunes freely we'll expose,
Honour alone we cannot, must not lose;
Honour, that spark of the celestial fire,
That above Nature makes mankind aspire;
Ennobles the rude passions of our frame
With thirst of glory and desire of fame;
The richest treasure of a generous breast,
That gives the stamp and standard to the rest.
Wit, strength, and courage, are wild dangerous
force,

Unless this softens and directs their course;
And would you rob us of the noblest part?
Accept a sacrifice without a heart?
'Tis much beneath the greatness of a throne,
To take the casket when the jewel's gone;
Debauch our principles, corrupt our race,
And teach the nobles to be false and base;
What confidence can you in them repose,
Who, ere they serve you, all their value lose?
Who once enslave their conscience to their lust,
Have lost their reins, and can no more be just.
"Of honour, men at first like women nice,
Raise maiden scruples at unpractis'd vice;
Their modest nature curbs the struggling flame,
And stifles what they wish to act with shame:
But once this fence thrown down, when they per-
ceive

That they may taste forbidden fruit and live;
They stop not here their course, but, safely in,
Grow strong, luxuriant, and bold in sin;
True to no principles, press forward still,
And only bound by appetite their will:
Now fawn and flatter, while this tide prevails,
But shift with every veering blast their sails.
Mark those that meanly truckle to your power,
They once deserted, and chang'd sides before,
And would to morrow Mahomet adore.
On higher springs true men of honour move,
Free is their service, and unbought their love:

With the same constancy they all resign."

Thus spake the youth, who open'd first the

way,

And was the Phosph'rus to the dawning day;
Follow'd by a more glorious splendid host,
Than any age, or any realm can boast:
So great their fame, so numerous their train,
To name were endless, and to praise in vain:
But Herbert and great Oxford merit more;
Bold is their flight, and more sublime they soar;
So high their virtue as yet wauts a name,
Exceeding wonder, and surpassing fame;
Rise, glorious church, erect thy radiant head;
The storm is past, th' impending tempest fled;
Had Fate decreed thy ruin or disgrace,

It had not given such sons so brave a race;
When for destruction Heaven a realm designs,
The symptoms first appear in slavish minds.
These men would prop a sinking nation's weight,
Stop falling vengeance, and reverse ev'n fate.
Let other nations boast their fruitful soil,
Their fragrant spices, their rich wine and oil;
In breathing colours, and in living paint,
Let them excel; their mastery we grant.
But to instruct the mind, to arm the soul
With virtue which no dangers can control;
Exalt the thought, a speedy courage lend,
That horrour cannot shake, or pleasure bend;
These are the English arts, these we profess,
To be the same in misery and success;
To teach oppressors law, assist the good,
Relieve the wretched, and subdue the proud.
Such are our souls: but what doth worth avail
When kings commit to hungry priests the scale?
All merit's light when they dispose the weight,
Who either would embroil or rule the state,
Defame those heroes who their yoke refuse,
And blast that honesty they cannot use;
The strength and safety of the crown destroy,
And the king's power against himself employ;
Affront his friends, deprive him of the brave; ·
Bereft of these, he must become their slave.
Men, like our money, come the most in play,
For being base, and of a coarse allay.
The richest medals, and the purest gold,
Of native value and exactest mould,
By worth conceal'd, in private closets shine,
For vulgar use too precious and too fine;
Whilst tin and copper with new stamping bright,
Coin of base metal, counterfeit and light,
Do all the business of the nation's turn,
Rais'd in contempt, us'd and employ'd in scorn;
So shining virtues are for courts too bright,
Whose guilty actions fly the searching light:
Rich in themselves, disdaining to aspire,
Great without pomp, they willingly retire;
Give place to fools, whose rash misjudging sense
Increases the weak measures of their prince;
They blindly and implicitly run on,

Nor see those dangers which the others shun:

Who, slow to act, each business duly weigh,
Advise with freedom, and with care obey;
With wisdom fatal to their interest, strive
To make their monarch lov'd, and nation thrive.
Such have no place where priests and women
Who love fierce drivers, and a looser rein. [reign,

AN EPISTLE

ΤΟ

CHARLES EARL OF DORSET,

OCCASIONED BY

HIS MAJESTY'S VICTORY IN IRELAND, 1690.

WHAT! shall the king the nation's genius raise,
And make us rival our great Edward's days;
Yet not one Muse, worthy a conqueror's name,
Attend his triumphs, and record his fame?
Oh, Dorset! you alone this fault can mend,
The Muses' darling, confident, and friend;
The poets are your charge, and, if unfit,
You should be fin'd to furnish abler wit;
Oblig'd to quit your ease, and draw again,
To paint the greatest hero, the best pen.

A hero, who thus early doth out-shine
The ancient honours of his glorious line;
And, soaring more sublimely to renown,
The memory of their pious triumphs drown;
Whose actions are deliver'd o'er to Fame,
As types and figures of his greater name.
When Fate some mighty genius has design'd,
For the relief and wonder of mankind,
Nature takes time to answer the intent,
And climbs, by slow degrees, the steep ascent:
She toils and labours with the growing weight,
And watches carefully the steps of Fate;
Till all the seeds of Providence unite,
To set the hero in a happy light;
Then, in a lucky and propitious hour,
Exerts her force, and calls forth all her power.
In Nassau's race she made this long essay:
Heroes and patriots prepar'd the way,
And promis'd, in their dawn, this brighter day;
A public spirit distinguish'd all the line,
Successive virtues in each branch did shine, [sign.
Till this last glory rose, and crown'd the great de-
Blest be his name! and peaceful lie his grave,
Who durst his native soil, lost Holland, save!
But William's genius takes a wider scope,
And gives the injur'd, in all kingdoms, hope;
Born to subdue insulting tyrants' rage,
The ornament and terrour of the age;
The refuge where afflicted nations find
Relief from those oppressors of mankind,
Whom laws restrain not, and no oaths can bind.
Him, their deliverer Europe does confess,
All tongues extol, and all religions bless;
The Po, the Danube, Boetis, and the Rhine,
United in his praise, their wonder join;
While, in the public cause, he takes the field,
And shelter'd nations fight behind his shield.
His foes themselves dare not applause refuse :
And shall such actions want a faithful Muse?
Poets have this to boast: without their aid,
The freshest laurels nipp'd by malice, fade,
And virtue to oblivion is betray'd:

The proudest honours have a narrow date,
Unless they vindicate their names from Fate
But who is equal to sustain the part?
Dryden has numbers, but he wants a heart;
Injoin'd a penance, which is too severe
For playing once the fool, to persevere.
Others, who knew the trade, have laid it down";
And, looking round, I find you stand alone.

How sir, can you, or any English Muse,
Our country's fame, our monarch's arms, refuse?
'Tis not my want of gratitude, but skill,
Makes me decline what I can ne'er fulfil.
I cannot sing of conquest as I ought,
And my breath fails to swell a lofty note.
I know my compass, and my Muse's size,
She loves to sport and play, but dares not rise:
Idly affects, in this familiar way,

In easy numbers loosely to convey,
What mutual friendship would at distance say.
Poets assume another tone and voice,
When victory's their theme, and arms their choice.
To follow heroes in the chase of fame,
Asks force and heat, and fancy wing'd with flame.
What words can paint the royal warrior's face?
What colours can the figure boldly raise,
When cover'd o'er with comely dust and smoke,
He pierc'd the foe, and thickest squadrons broke?
His bleeding arm, still painful with the sore,
Which, in his people's cause, the pious father
[way,

bore:

Whom, cleaving through the troops a glorious
Not the united force of France and Hell could stay.
Oh, Dorset! I am rais'd! I'm all on fire!
And, if my strength could answer my desire,
In speaking paint this figure should be seen,
Like Jove his grandeur, and like Mars his mien;
And gods descending should adorn the scene.

See, see! upon the banks of Boyne he stands,
By his own view adjusting his commands:
Calm and serene the armed coast surveys,
And, in cool thoughts, the different chances weighs:
Then, fir'd with fame, and eager of renown,
Resolves to end the war, and fix the throne.
From wing to wing the squadrons bending stand,
And close their ranks to meet their king's com-
mand;

The drums and trumpets sleep, the sprightly noise
Of neighing steeds, and cannons' louder voice,
Suspended in attention, banish far

All hostile sounds, and hush the din of war:
The silent troops stretch forth an eager look,
Listening with joy, while thus their general spoke:
"Come, fellow-soldiers, follow me once more,
And fix the fate of Europe on that shore;
Your courage only waits from me the word,
But England's happiness commands my sword:
In her defence I every part will bear,
The soldier's danger, and the prince's care,
And envy any arm an equal share.
Set all that's dear to men before your sight;
For laws, religion, liberty, we fight; [flame,
To save your wives from rape, your towns from
Redeem your country sold, and vindicate her

name;

At whose request and timely call I rose,
To tempt my fate, and all my hopes expose;
Struggled with adverse storms and winter seas,
That in my labonrs you might find your ease.
Let other monarchs dictate from afar,
And write the empty triumphs of the war:

In lazy palaces supinely rust;
My sword shall justify my people's trust,
For which-but I your victory delay;
Come on; I and my genius lead the way."

He said, new life and joy ran through the host,
And sense of danger in their wonder lost;
Precipitate they plunge into the flood,

In vain, the waves, the banks, the men, withstood:
The king leads on, the king does all inflame,
The king-and carries millions in the name.

As when the swelling ocean bursts his bounds, And, foaming, overwhelms the neighbouring grounds,

The roaring deluge, rushing headlong on,
Sweeps cities in its course, and bears whole forests
So on the foe the firm battalions prest, [down;
And he, like the tenth wave, drove on the rest;
Fierce, gallant, young, he shot through every
place,

Urging their flight, and hurrying on the chase;
He hung upon their rear, or lighten'd in their face.
Stop! stop! brave prince! allay that generous
flame,

Enough is given to England and to fame.
Remember, sir, you in the centre stand,
Europe's divided interests you command,
All their designs uniting in your hand:
Down from your throne descends the golden chain,
Which does the fabric of our world sustain;
That once dissolv'd by any fatal stroke,
The scheme of all our happiness is broke.
Stop! stop! brave prince! fleets may repair
And routed armies rally on the plain; [again,
But ages are requir'd to raise so great a man!
Hear how the waves of French ambition roar,
Disdaining bounds, and breaking on the shore,
Which you, ordain'd to curb their wild destructive
power,

That strength remov'd; again, again, they flow,
Lay Europe waste, nor law, nor limits know.

Stop! stop! brave prince!-what, does your
Muse, sir, faint?

Proceed, pursue his conquests-faith, I can't:
My spirits sink, and will no longer bear;
Rapture and fury carry'd me thus far
Transported and amaz'd

That rage once spent, I can no more sustain
Your flights, your energies, and tragic strain,
But fall back to my natural pace again;
In humble verse provoking you to rhyme;
I wish there were more Dorsets at this time.
Oh! if in France this hero had been born,
What glittering tinsel would his acts adorn!
There 'tis immortal fame and high renown,
To steal a country, and to buy a town:
There triumphs are o'er kings and kingdoms sold,
And captive Virtue led in chains of gold.
If courage could, like courts, be kept in pay,
What suins would Lewis give, that France might

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The wounded arm would furnish all their rooms,
And bleed for ever scarlet in the looms:
Boileau with this would plume his artful pen:
And can your Muse be silent? Think again.
Spare your advice; and since you have begun,
Finish your own design; the work is done.

Done! nothing's done! nor the dead colours laid,

And the most glorious scenes stand undisplay'd;
A thousand generous actions close the rear;
A thousand virtues, still behind, stand crowding
to appear.

The queen herself, the charming queen should

grace

The noble piece, and in an artful place
Soften war's horrour with her lovely face.
Who can omit the queen's auspicious smile,
The pride of the fair sex, the goddess of our
isle?

Who can forget, what all admir'd of late,
Her fears for him, her prudence for the state?
Disguising cares, she smooth'd her looks with

grace,

Doubts in her heart, and pleasure in her face,
As danger did approach, her spirits rose,
And, putting on the king, dismay'd his foes.
Now, all in joy, she gilds the cheerful court;
In every glance descending angels sport.
As on the hills of Cynthus, or the meads
Of cool Eurotas, when Diana leads

The chorus of her nymphs, who there advance
A thousand shining maids, and form the dance;
The stately goddess with a graceful pride,
Sweet and majestic, does the figure guide,
Treading in just and easy measures round;
The silver arrows on her shoulder sound;
She walks above them all. Such is the scene
Of the bright circle, and the brighter queen.
These subjects do, my lord, your skill com

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Upon seeing Vandyke's picture of the old lady
Sunderland.

VANDYKE had colours, softness, fire, and art,

When the fair Sunderland inflam'd his heart.
Waller had numbers, fancy, wit, and fire,
And Sacharissa was his fond desire.
Why then at Althrop seem her charms to faint,
In these sweet numbers and that glowing paint!
This happy seat a fairer mistress warms;
This shining offspring bas eclips'd her charms:
The different beauties in one face we find;
Soft Amoret with brightest Sacharissa join'd.
As high as Nature reach'd, their art could soar;
But she ne'er made a finish'd piece before.

VERSES,

WRITTEN FOR THE TOASTING-GLASSES OF THE KIT-CAT CLUB, 1703.

Dutchess of St. ALBANS.

THE line of Vere, so long renown'd in arms,
Concludes with lustre in St. Albans charms.
Her conquering eyes have made their race com-
They rose in valour, and in beauty set. [plete;

Dutchess of BEAUFORT.

Offspring of a tuneful sire,
Blest with more than mortal fire;
Likeness of a mother's face,

Blest with more than mortal grace;
You with double charms surprise,
With his wit, and with her eyes.

Lady MARY CHURCHILL.

1

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VERSES BY LORD HALIFAX. FROM DR. Z. GREY'S MSS. ALL the materials are the same

Of beauty and desire,

In a fair woman's goodly frame

No brightness is without a flame,

No flame without a fire.

Then tell me what those creatures are,

That would be thought both chaste and fair?

Go ask but thy philosophy

What gives her lips the balm,

What makes her breasts to heave so high,
What spirit gives motion to her eye,
Or moisture to her palm?
Then tell me, &c.

Ah Cælia, then, be not so nice,

For that betrays thy thoughts and thee;
There's not a feature or a grace
Bedecks thy body or thy face,
But pimps within for me.
Then tell me, &c.

ON THE

COUNTESS DOWAGER OF

COURAGE, dear Moll, and drive away despair.
Mopsa, who in her youth was scarce thought fair,
In spite of age, experience, and decays,
Sets up for charming, in her fading days;
Snuffs her dim eyes to give one parting blow,
Have at the heart of every ogling beau!
This goodly goose, all feather'd like a jay,
So gravely vain, and so demurely gay,
Last night, t' adorn the court, did overload
Her bald buff forehead with a high commode:
Her steps were manag'd with such tender art,
As if each board had been a lover's heart.
In all her air, in every glance, was seen
A mixture strange, 'twixt fifty and fifteen.
Admiring fops about her crowding press;
Hambden himself delivers their address,

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