Prefented to the KING, at his Arrival in HOLLAND,' after the Discovery of the CONSPIRACY, 1696.
"Serus in cœlum redeas, diúque
"Lætus interfis populo Quirini :
Néve te noftris vitiis iniquum
E careful angels, whom eternal Fate
Ordains, on earth and human acts to wait;
Who turn with fecret power this reftlefs ball,
And bid predeftin'd empires rife and fail:
Your facred aid religious monarchs own;
When first they merit, then afcend the throne:
But tyrants dread you, left your juft decree
Transfer the power, and fet the people free.
See refcued Britain at your altars bow;
And hear her hymns your happy care avow:
That fill her axes and her rods fupport
The judge's frown, and grace the awful court;
That Law with all her pompous terror stands,
To wreft the dagger from the traitor's hands;
And rigid Juftice reads the fatal word,
Foifes the balance firft, then draws the fword.
Britain her fafety to your guidance owns,
That the can feparate parricides from fons;
That, impious rage difarm'd, the lives and reigns,
Her freedom kept by him, who broke her chains.
And thou, great minister, above the rest Of guardian fpirits, be thou for ever bleft; Thou who of old waft fent to Ifrael's court, With fecret aid great David's strong support, To mock the frantic rage of cruel Saul, And firike the useless javelin to the wall. Thy later care o'er William's temples held, On Boyne's propitious banks, the heavenly shield; When power divine did fovereign right declare ; And cannons mark'd whom they were bid to fpare. Still, bleffed angel, be thy care the fame ! Be William's life untouch'd, as is his fame! Let him own thine, as Britain owns his hand : Save thou the King, as he has fav'd the land!
We angels' forms in pious monarchs view;
We reverence William; for he acts like you;
Like you, commission'd to chastise and bless,
He muft avenge the world, and give it peace,
Indulgent Fate our potent prayer receives ;
And ftill Britannia fmiles, and William lives.
The hero dear to earth, by heaven belov'd,
By troubles must be vex'd, by dangers prov'd:
His foes must aid, to make his fame compleat,
And fix his throne fecure on their defeat.
So, though with fudden rage the tempest comes ; Though the winds roar; and though the water foams Imperial Britain on the fea looks down,
And fmiling fees her rebel-fubjects frown.
Striking her cliff, the ftorm confirms her power;
The waves but whiten her triumphant shore;
In vain they would advance, in vain retreat; -,
Broken they dash, and perish at her feet.
For William ftill new wonders fhall be fhown:
The powers, t that refcued, fhall preferve the throne.
Safe on his darling Britain's joyful sea,
Behold, the monarch plows his liquid way :
His fleets in thunder through the world declare,
Whofe empire they obey, whofe arms they bear.
Blefs'd by afpiring winds, he finds the strand
Blacken'd with crouds; he fees the nation ftand,
Bleffing his fafety, proud of his command.
In various tongues he hears the captains dwell
On their great leader's praife; by turns they tell,
And liften, each with emulous glory fir'd,
How William conquer'd, and how France retir'd;
How Belgia, freed, the hero's arm confefs'd,
But trembled for the courage which she bleft.
O Louis, from this great example know,
To be at once a hero and a foe:
By founding trumpets, hear, and rattling drums,"
When William to the open vengeance comes:
And fee the foldier plead the monarch's right,,
Heading his troops, and foremost in the fight.
Hence then, clofe ambush and perfidious war,
Down to your native feats of night repair.
And thou, Bellona, weep thy cruel pride
Reftrain'd, behind the victor's cha iot tied
In brazen knots and everlasting chains
(So Europe's peace, fo William's fate ordains).
While on the ivory chair, in happy state,
He fits, fecure in innocence, and great
In regal clemency; and views beneath
Averted darts of rage, and pointless arms of death.
Written at The HAGUE, 1696.
WHILE with labour affiduous due pleasure I mix,
And in one day atone for the business of fix,
In a little Dutch chaife on a Saturday night,
On my left-hand my Horace, a Nymph on my right:
No memoirs to compofe, and no post-boy to move,
That on Sunday may hinder the foftnefs of love;
For her, neither vifits, nor parties at tea,
Nor the long-winded cant of a dull refugee.
This night and the next fhall be her's, fhall be mine,
To good or ill-fortune the third we refign:
Thus fcorning the world, and fuperior to fate,
I drive on my car in proceffional state.
So with Phia through Athens Pifistratus rode ;
Men thought her Minerva, and him a new god.
But why fhould I ftories of Athens rehearse,
Where people knew love, and were partial to verfe;
Since none can with juftice my pleasures oppose,
In Holland half drowned in interest and profe?
By Greece and past ages what need I be tried,
When The Hague and the prefent are both on my fide?
And is it enough for the joys of the day,
To think what Anacreon or Sappho would say?
When good Vandergoes, and his provident Vrow,
As they gaze on my triumph, do freely allow,
That, fearch all the province, you'll find no man dar is,
So bleft as the Englishen Heer Secretar' is.
TO CLOE WEEPING.
EE, whilft thou weep'ft, fair Cloe, fee
The world in fympathy with thee.
The chearful birds no longer fing;
Each drops his head, and hangs his wing.
The clouds have bent their bofom lower,
And fhed their forrows in a shower.
The brooks beyond their limits flow;
And louder murmurs fpeak their woe.
The nymphs and fwains adopt thy cares;
They heave thy fighs, and weep thy tears.
Fantastic nymph! that grief fhould move
Thy heart obdurate against love.
Strange tears! whofe power can soften all,
But that dear breaft on which they fall.
|