When past all offerings to Feretrian Jove,
He Mars depos'd, and arms to gowns made yield;
Successful councils did him soon approve
As fit for close intrigues as open field.
To suppliant Holland he vouchsaf'd a peace,
Our once bold rival of the British main,
Now tamely glad her unjust claim to cease,
And buy our friendship with her idol, gain.
Fame of the' asserted sea through Europe blown,
Made France and Spain ambitious of his love;
Each knew that side must conquer he would own,
And for him fiercely, as for empire, strove.
No sooner was the Frenchman's cause embrac'd, Than the light Monsieur the grave Don outweigh'd;
His fortune turn'd the scale where'er 'twas cast, Though Indian mines were in the other laid.
When absent, yet we conquer'd in his right;
For though some meaner artist's skill were shown
In mingling colours, or in placing light,
Yet still the fair designment was his own.
For from all tempers he could service draw;
The worth of each with its alloy he knew,
And, as the confident of Nature, saw
How she complexions did divide and brew.
Or he their single virtues did survey,
By intuition in his own large breast,
Where all the rich ideas of them lay,
That were the rule and measure to the rest.
When such heroic virtue Heav'n sets out,
The stars, like commons, sullenly obey;
Because it drains them when it comes about,
And therefore is a tax they seldom pay.
From this high spring our foreign conquests flow,
Which yet more glorious triumphs do portend;
Since their commencement to his arms they owe,
If springs as high as fountains may ascend.
He made us free-men of the Continent,
Whom Nature did like captives treat before; To nobler preys the English lion sent,
And taught him first in Belgian walks to roar.
That old unquestion'd pirate of the land, [heard, Proud Rome, with dread the fate of Dunkirk And, trembling, wish'd behind more Alps to stand, Although an Alexander were her guard.
By his command we boldly cross'd the line,
And bravely fought where southern stars arise;
We trac'd the far-fetch'd gold unto the mine,
And that which brib'd our fathers made our prize.
Such was our Prince; yet own'd a soul above
The highest acts it could produce to show:
Thus poor mechanic arts in public move,
Whilst the deep secrets beyond practice go.
Nor died he when his ebbing fame went less, But when fresh laurels courted him to live; He seem'd but to prevent some new success, As if above what triumphs earth could give.
His latest victories still thickest came,
As near the centre motion doth increase; Till he, press'd down by his own weighty name, Did, like the Vestal, under spoils decrease.
But first the Ocean as a tribute sent
That giant prince of all her watry herd; And the' isle, when her protecting genius went, Upon his obsequies loud sighs conferr'd.
No civil broils have since his death arose,
But faction now by habit does obey;
And wars have that respect for his repose,
As winds far halcyons, when they breed at sea.
His ashes in a peaceful urn shall rest,
His name a great example stands, to show How strangely high endeavours may be blest, Where piety and valour jointly go.
ASTRÆA REDUX.
ON THE HAPPY RESTORATION AND RETURN OF HIS SACRED MAJESTY, CHARLES II.
Jam redit et virgo, redeunt Saturnia regna.
The last great age, foretold by sacred rhymes,
Renews its finish'd course; Saturnian times
Roll round again.
Now with a general peace the world was bless'd,
While ours, a world divided from the rest,
A dreadful quiet felt, and (worser far
Than arms) a sullen interval of war:
Thus when black clouds draw down the labouring
Ere yet abroad the winged thunder flies,
An horrrid stilness first invades the ear,
And in that silence we the tempest fear.
The' ambitious Swede, like restless billows toss'd,
On this hand gaining what on that he lost,
Though in his life he blood and ruin breath'd,
To his now guideless kingdom peace bequeath'd:
And Heav'n, that seem'd regardless of our fate,
For France and Spain did miracles create;
Such mortal quarrels to compose in peace,
As Nature bred, and Interest did increase.
We sigh'd to hear the fair Iberian bride
Must grow a lily to the lily's side,
While our cross stars denied us Charles's bed,
Whom our first flames and virgin love did wed.
For his long absence Church and State did groan;
Madness the pulpit, faction seiz'd the throne;
Experienc'd age in deep despair was lost,
To see the rebel thrive, the loyal cross'd;
Youth, that with joys had unacquainted been,
Envied gray hairs that once good days had seen:
We thought our sires, not with their own content,
Had, ere we came to age, our portion spent.
Nor could our nobles hope their bold attempt
Who ruin'd crowns, would coronets exempt:
For when, by their designing leaders taught
To strike at pow'r, which for themselves they sought,
The vulgar, gull'd into rebellion, arm'd,
Their blood to action by their prize was warm'd.
The sacred purple then, and scarlet gown,
Like sanguine dye, to elephants was shown.
Thus when the bold Typhous scal'd the sky,
And forc'd great Jove from his own heav'n to fly,
(What king, what crown,from Treason's reach is free,
If Jove and heav'n can violated be!)
The lesser gods, that shar'd his prosperous state,
All suffer'd in the exil'd Thunderer's fate.
The rabble now such freedom did enjoy,
As winds at sea, that use it to destroy:
Blind as the Cyclop, and as wild as he,
They own'd a lawless savage liberty,
Like that our painted ancestors so priz'd,
Ere Empire's arts their breasts had civiliz'd.
How great were then our Charles's woes, who thus
Was forc'd to suffer for himself and us!
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