Cou'd swell the Soul to Rage, or kindle soft Desire.

At last Divine Cecilia came,

Inventress of the Vocal Frame;
The sweet Enthusiast, from her Sacred Store,

Enlarg'd the former narrow Bounds,

And added Length to folemn Sounds, With Nature's. Mother-Wit, and Arts unknown

(before, Let old Timot bewe yield the Prize,

Or both divide the Crown
He raised a Mortal to the Skies;

She drew an Angel down.

Grand Chorus.
At laft Divine Cecilia came,

Inventress of the Vocal Frame za
The Sweet Enthusiaft, from her sacred Store,

Enlarg’d the former narroto Bounds;

Andadded Length to solemn Sounds, With Nature's Mother-Wit, and Arts unknown before. Let old Timotheus yield the Prize,

Or both divide the Crown;
He raised a Mortal to the Skies;

She drew an Angel down.

XCI:

The Cunning Man, or Conjarer,

HE
E deals in Detinie's dark Counsels,

And Sage Opinions of the Moon Sells i
To whom all People, far and near,
On deep Importances repair;
When Brass and Perpter hap to stray,
And Linnen (links out of the way :

When

When Geefe and Pullen are feduc'd,
And Soms of Sucking-Pigs are chous'
When Cattle feel Indisposition,
And need th' Opinion of Physician;
When Murrain reigns in Hogs or Sheepa
And Chickens languish of the Pip.
When Yeast and outward Means do fail,
And have no power to work on Ale.
When Butter does refuse to conie,
And Love proves Cross and Humoursom,
To him with Questions, and with Vrine,
They for Discovery flock, or Caring.

Hudibras.

XCIL

FLIGHT.

Disguis'd in all the Mask of Night;

Weleft our * Champion on his Flights
At Blindman's-Buff to grope his Way,
In equal fear of Night and Day :
He never was in greater Need,
Nor less Capacity of Speed :
Disabled both in Man and Beast,
To fly, and run away, his best,
To keep the Enemy, and Fear,
From equal Falling on his Rear.
And tho with Kicks and Bangs he ply'd
The further and the nearer fide :
(As Seamen ride with all their force,
And tug as if they rom’d the Horse;

* Hudibras,

And when the Hackney Sails most swift,
Believe they lag, or run a-drift.)
So tho'he posted e'er fo fait,
His Fear was greater than his Haste :
For Fear, tho' Aeeter than the Wind,
Believes 'tis always left behind.

Hudibrasi

XCIII.

Presented to the KING, at his Arrival in

Holland, after the Discovery of the Conspiracy, in 1696. By Mr. Priør.

Serus in calum redeas ; diuque
Latus interfis populo Quirini :
Neve te noftris vitiis iniquum

Ocyor aura.
Tollat

Hor. ad Auguftuma YE E careful Angels, whom eternal Fate

Ordains, on Earth and human Acts to wait;
Who turn with fecret Pow'r this reftless Ball;
And bid alternate Empires rise and fall :
Your facred Aid religious Monarchs own
When first they Merit, then afcend the Throne :
But Tyrants dread you, left your just Decree
Transfer the Pow'r, and set the People free :
See rescu'd Britain at your Altars bow ;
And hear her Hynns, your happy Care avow
That still her Axes and her Rods fapport
The Judges frown, and grace the awful Court:

That

1

That Law with all her pompous Terror stands
To wrest the Dagger from the Traitors Handsg
And rigid Justice reads the fatal Word;
Poiles the Ballance first, then draws the Sword.

Britain her Safety to your Guidance owns,
That she can rep'rate Parricides from Sons:
That, impious Rage disarni’d, she lives and reigns;
Hur Freedom kept by hiin, who broke her Chains.

And Thou, great Minister, above the rest
Of Guardian Spirits, be Thou forever bleft:
Thou, who of old wert sent to Israel's Court,
With secret Aid great David's Itrong Support;
To mock the frantick Rage of cruel Saul;
And strike the useless Jav'lin to the Wall.
Thy later Care o'er Willian's Temples held,
On Boyn's propitious Banks, the heav'nly Shield,
When Pow'r Divine did Sov'raign Right declare,
And Cannons niark'd, whom they were bid to spare.

Still, bleffed Angel, be thy Care the same;
Be William's Life untouch'd, as is his Fanie:
Let him own Thine, as Britain owns his Hand ;
Save thou the King, as He has fav'd the Land.

We Angels Forins in pious Monarchs view;
We reverence William ; for he acts like you:
Like you Commission'd to chastize and bless,
He must avenge the World, and give it Peace.

Indulgent Fate our potent Pray’r receives; And still Britannia smiles, and William lives:

The Hero dear to Earth, by Heav'n belov'd, By Troubles must be vex'd, by Dangers provid; His Foes muft aid to make his Fame conipleat; And fix his Throne fecure on their Defeat.

So, tho' with fudden Rage the Tenipest conies; Tho' the Winds roar, and thoʻthe Water foams; Imperial Britain on the Sea looks down ; And smiling sees her Rebel Subjects frown:

Strikin

Striking her Cliff, the Storm confirns her Pow'r; The Waves but whiten her Triumphant Shore: In vain they wou'd advance, in vain retreat; Broken they dash and perish at her Feet.

For William still new Wonders shall be shown; The Pow'rs that rescu'd shall preserve the Throne : Safe on his Darling Britain's joyful Sea, Behold, the Monarch plows his Liquid way: His Fleets in Thunder thro' the World declare, Whose Empire they obey, whose Arms they bear. Bless’d by aspiring Winds he finds the Strand Blackend with Crouds; he fees the Nations stand Blesling his Safety, proud of his Command. In various Tongues he hears the Captains dwell On their great Leader's Praise; by Turns they tell And listen (each with emulous Glory fir'd) How William conquer'd, and how France retir'd; How Belgia freed the Hero's Arm confess’d, But trembld for the Courage which she blest.

O Louis, from this great Example know, To be at once a Hero, and a Foe: By founding Trumpets, mark, and furly Drunis, When William to the open Vengeance comes Heading his Troops, and foremost in the Fight, Behold the Soldier plead the Monarch's Right.

Hence then, close Ambush, and perfidious War, Down to your Pristin Seats of Night repair. And thou, Bellona, weep thy cruel Pride Restrain'd, behind the Victor's Chariot tyd In brazen Knots, and Everlasting Chains. ( So Europe's Peace, fo William's Fate Ordains:) While on the Iv'ry Chair, in happy State He ficsfecure in Innocence, and great In regal Clemency; and views beneath Averted Darts of Rage; and pointless Arnis of Death

XCIV. Love