Cou'd swell the Soul to Rage, or kindle soft Defire.
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
Let old Timothens yield the Prize,
Or both divide the Crown;
He raised a Mortal to the Skies;
She drew an Angel down.
At last Divine Cecilia came,
Inventress of the Vocal Frame
Enlarg'd the former narrow Bounds,
And added Length to folemn Sounds,
The Sweet Enthusiast, from her facred Store,
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.
The Cunning Man, or Conjurer.
HE deals in Deftinie's dark Counfels,
And Sage Opinions of the Moon Sells;
To whom all People, far and near,
On deep Importances repair;
When Brafs and Pewter hap to ftray,
And Linnen links out of the way:
When Geefe and Pullen are seduc'd,
And Sows of Sucking-Pigs are chous'd;
When Cattle feel Indisposition,
And need th' Opinion of Physician,
When Murrain reigns în Hogs or Sheep,
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 come,
And Love proves Cross and Humoursom,
To him with Questions, and with Urine,
They for Discovery flock, or Caring.
Disguis'd in all the Mask of Night,
Weleft our * Champion on his Flight
At Blindman's-Buf 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 row'd the Horse;
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' fleeter than the Wind,
Believes 'tis always left behind.
Presented to the KING, at his Arrival in Holland, after the Discovery of the Confpi racy, in 1696. By Mr. Prior.
Serus in calum redeas; diuque
Latus interfis populo Quirini :
Neve te noftris vitiis iniquum
Ocyor aura.
Hor. ad Auguftum
E careful Angels, whom eternal Fate
Who turn with fecret Pow'r this restless Ball;
And bid alternate Empires rise and fall:
Your facred Aid religious Monarchs own
When first they Merit, then ascend 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 Hymns, your happy Care avow;
That still her Axes and her Rods support
The Judges frown, and grace the awful Court:
That Law with all her pompous Terror stands
To wrest the Dagger from the Traitors Hands
And rigid Justice reads the fatal Word;
Poises the Ballance first, then draws the Sword.
Britain her Safety to your Guidance owns,
That the can sep'rate Parricides from Sons:
That, impious Rage disfarm'd, she lives and reigns;
Her Freedom kept by him, who broke her Chains.
And Thou, great Minifter, above the rest
Of Guardian Spirits, be Thou forever blest:
Thou, who of old wert sent to Ifrael's Court,
With fecret Aid great David's strong Support;
To mock the frantick Rage of cruel Saul;
And strike the useless Jav'lin to the Wall.
Thy later Care o'er William's Temples held,
On Boyn's propitious Banks, the heav'nly Shield,
When Pow'r Divine did Sov'raign Right declare,
And Cannons mark'd, whom they were bid to spare.
Still, blessed Angel, be thy Care the same;
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 Commiflion'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 prov'd;
His Foes muft aid to make his Fame compleat;
And fix his Throne secure on their Defeat.
So, tho' with fudden Rage the Tempest comes;
Thơ' the Winds roar, and tho' the Water foams;
Imperial Britain on the Sea looks down;
And smiling fees her Rebel Subjects frown:
Striking her Cliff, the Storm confirms 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
Blacken'd with Crouds; he sees the Nations stand
Bleffing 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 liften (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 trembl'd 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 Drums, When William to the open Vengeance comes : Heading his Troops, and foremoft in the Fight, Behold the Soldier plead the Monarch's Right.
Hence then, close Ambush, and perfidious War, Down to your Priftin Seats of Night repair. And thou, Bellona, weep thy cruel Pride Restrain'd, behind the Victor's Chariot ty'd 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 fits; fecure in Innocence, and great In regal Clemency; and views beneath
Averted Darts of Rage; and pointless Arms of Death
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