I Sing the
Briton, and his Righteous Arms,
Who bred to Suff'rings, and the rude Alarms
Of bloody War, forsook his Native Soil,
And long sustain'd a vast Heroick Toil,
Till kinder Fate invited his Return,
To bless the Isle, that did his Absence mourn:
To re-enthrone fair Liberty, and break
The Saxon Yoke, that gall'd
Britannia's Neck.
Tell, Sacred Muse, what made th' Infernal King
Use all his Arts, and all his Forces bring
The Generous
Briton's Triumphs to oppose,
Afflict his Friends, and aid his cruel Foes.
Tell, why the angry Pow'rs below, combine
T' oppress a Valiant Prince, and thwart his brave Design.
Ambitious
Lucifer, depos'd of late
From Bliss Divine, and high Angelick State,
Sinks to the dark, unbottom'd Deep of Hell,
Where Sin, and Death, and endless Sorrow dwell:
Here plung'd in Flame, and tortur'd with Despair
He plots Revenge, and meditates new War.
His Thoughts on deep Designs th' Apostate spent,
When this Conjuncture favour'd his Intent.
A spacious, dusky Plain lay wast and void,
Where yet Creating Power was ne'er employ'd
[Page 2]To fashion Elements, or strike out Light;
The silent, lonesome Walks of ancient Night.
In th' Archives kept in Heav'n's bright Towers, was found,
A sacred old Decree, wherein the Ground
Was set distinctly out, from Ages past,
For a new World, on this unbounded Wast.
Here did th' Artificer Divine of late,
The World so long before markt out, create.
And gave it to the Man he newly made,
Where all things him, as he did Heav'n, obey'd.
In
Eden's Walks he made his blest Abode,
All full of Joy, of Glory, full of
God.
Nature with vast Profusion on him pours,
Unmeasur'd Bliss, from unexhausted Stores.
Th' Apostate raging at his own Defeat
And envying this new Prince his happy Seat;
Labours to win him to his Side, to bear
Arms against Heav'n, and wage Confed'rate War.
Nor did his Arts in vain weak Man assail,
His false Seraphick Tongue, and Charms prevail.
Deluded Man from his high Station fell
Deserting Heav'n, to serve the Cause of Hell.
This Fatal Conquest o'er fall'n
Adam gain'd,
A mighty Empire
Lucifer maintain'd;
Till the blest Prince of Peace, Heav'n's Lord and Heir,
By Pity's Tears, and charming Mercy's Prayer
Drawn down from Heav'n, freed lost Mankind, and broke
The Pow'r of Hell, and Sin's Tyrannick Yoke.
He makes Proud
Lucifer his Host disband,
And wrests the Scepter from th' Usurper's Hand.
The Prince of Darkness owns the Conquerour,
And yields his Empire to a mightier Pow'r.
[Page 3]From Idols and their Priests the Nations freed,
Celestial Light, and Truth Divine succeed.
Religion large Dominions soon obtain'd,
And daily Conquests, and fresh Laurels gain'd.
To
Albion's Shore she early pass'd the Main,
And brought along her bright Etherial Train.
From thence she chas'd Infernal Shades away,
And o'er the Isle, diffus'd a Heav'nly Day.
The Prince of Hell at her Appearance flies,
Spoil'd of his Altars, and his Votaries.
Confin'd to Barb'rous Northern Lands he staid,
Till the fierce Saxon,
Albion did invade.
Victorious
Octa who his Shrines ador'd,
Rebuilt his Altars, and his Groves restor'd.
Long abdicated Gods make
Albion mourn,
At theirs, and their devouring Priests Return.
Th' Arch-Traytor's Rage hence against
Arthur rose,
And all th' Infernal Pow'rs his Arms oppose;
Conscious should he his glorious End acquire,
And force th' intruding Pagan to retire,
Theirs, with the Saxon Empire must expire.
They must again forsake fair
Albion's Land,
And leave Divine Religion to Command.
Scarce had they left the happy Neustrian Coast,
Born with a Prosperous Gale, scarce had they lost
The Tops of Spires, and rising Points of Land,
When
Lucifer, that did observing stand
On the high Southern Promontory's Head,
Of
Vecta's Isle, the Seas beneath him spread
With sharp Angelick Ken, views far and wide,
And soon Prince
Arthur's hateful Fleet descry'd.
The Heav'ns serenely smil'd, and every Sail
Fill'd its wide Bosom, with th' indulgent Gale.
[Page 4]Mercy, Deliverance, Pity, Hope displaid
Their Silver Wings, and glad Attendance paid,
Sung on the Shrowds, or with the Streamers plaid.
Rage flash'd, like Lightning, from th' Apostate's Eyes,
And Envy swell'd him to the vastest Size
Then thus he to himself.
Was not to me in the fam'd Wars of Heav'n,
The chief Command of all the Forces giv'n,
Sent by Confederate Potentates to wage
Unheard of War, and all Heav'n's Pow'r engage?
When I, to end with Honour the Campaign,
Drew my bright Troops out, on th' Etherial Plain;
And push'd on that great, last decisive Day,
With God-like Vigour, for th' Imperial Sway.
In Lustre chief, in Danger and Command,
Did I Proud
Michael's Veteran Troops withstand.
Michael, than whom a Braver Combatant,
For Skill and Strength, the Foe could never vaunt.
'Gainst fresh Battalions still pour'd on I stood,
Smeer'd with Celestial Dust, and Seraphs Blood.
Had not our Mould been
Aether, Pure and Fine,
Labour'd with Care, anneel'd with Skill Divine;
The Blows of mighty Cherubs Death had cloy'd,
Unpeopled Heav'n, and the Bright Race destroy'd.
With
Michael pain'd with ghastly Wounds, at length
I clos'd, and grasp'd him with Immortal Strength;
And down Heav'n's Precipice, had headlong hurl'd
The great Arch-Angel, to th' Infernal World,
Had not swift
Uriel trembling at the Sight,
That fill'd all Heav'n, with Horrour and dire Fright,
Rush'd in, to save him from unequal Fight.
Their stagg'ring Army shrunk, and we had won
The Throne we fought for, but th' Almighty's Son
[Page 5]Brought strong Recruits, to reinforce their Host,
And win back what their General
Michael lost.
'Tho' overmatcht, did I not firmly stand,
The chiefest Mark of his Revenging Hand?
Did I from Posts of greatest Danger run,
Or once his bright Triumphal Chariot shun?
Did I once shrink, when Showers of poyson'd Darts
Dipt in Eternal Wrath, shot thro' our Hearts?
When massy Rocks of Heav'nly Chrystal flew,
Which the strong Arms of mighty Seraphs threw?
Did I not run and timely Help afford,
Where Storms of Fire, and loudest Thunder roar'd?
Tis true, o'er-born with Force, at last I fell,
But got Immortal Fame, tho' with it Hell.
Scarce was I vanquish'd and o'erthrown but late
By Power Almighty, and Eternal Fate.
Since that chief Lord, and Prince of Hell I've reign'd,
And from the Foe, his new-made World have gain'd.
And long maintain'd the Conquests I had won;
Now much lost back to his Almighty Son.
But faithful
Octa has once more restor'd
This happy Isle to me its ancient Lord.
Have I been thus for great Atchievements fam'd,
My Deeds throughout all Heav'n and Hell proclaim'd;
And shall this British, despicable Wight,
Me and my Priests, force to a second Flight?
Rifle my Temples, and in Triumph bear,
Thro' shouting Throngs, the Spoils high in the Air?
Who then to me will Hymns of Praise return,
Who on my Altars Odorous Incense burn?
If I chastise not this vain
Briton's Pride,
That does insulting on the Ocean ride.
If I secure not my new conquer'd Seat,
And all his wild, ambitious Arms defeat.
[Page 6]This having said, to Heav'n he mounts upright,
And to the Northern Pole directs his Flight.
All fir'd with Rage, and full of anxious Care,
With his swift Wings, he cuts the yielding Air.
As when the Sun pours from his Orb of Light,
A glorious Deluge, on the Face of Night.
His Golden Rays shot from the Rosy East,
Reach in a Moment, the remotest West,
And smiling on the Mountains Heads are seen,
Th' immense Expansion past, that lies between.
The Prince of Darkness now, once Prince of Light,
With equal Swiftness takes his Airy Flight,
And the vast Interval of Seas, and Isles,
Wild Desarts, spacious Forrests, snowy Hills,
Past in a Moment, does on
Fioel Light;
Of
Lapland Alpes, chief for amazing Height.
Where
Thor resides, who heretofore by Lot
The Sovereign Rule o'er Winds, and Tempests got.
Here in strong Prisons bound with heavy Chains,
His howling, savage Subjects he restrains,
And in Eternal Din, and Uproar reigns.
In close Apartments, round his desart Court,
Fierce Pris'ners are confin'd of different Sort.
Here Boundless Stores, and Treasures Infinite
Of Vapours, Steams, and Exhalations, fit
T' engender Winds, or Snow, or Hail, or Rain,
In Subterranean Magazins remain.
Here new fledg'd Winds, young yelping Monsters try
Their Wings, and sporting round their Prisons fly.
Here whistling East-winds prove their shriller Notes:
Here the hoarse South-winds, strain their hollow Throats.
Boreas the fiercest and most turbulent,
Of the mad Race, raves in his Dungeon pent.
[Page 7]At th' Adamantine Door vast Hills are thrown,
And abrupt Rocks of Ice, pil'd sevenfold on.
Capricious Whirlwinds, of more Force than Sound,
In everlasting Eddys turning round,
Grow Giddy, Furious and Extravagant,
And strive to break from their close Den's restraint.
When
Thor unlocks their Prisons, out they fly,
A lawless Rout, and with their Hellish Cry
Out-howl the hideous Monsters of the Seas,
Or savage Roarings of the Wilderness.
Some range the Flats, and Scour the Champain Land,
Or roll in tott'ring heaps the Desart Sand.
Some to the lofty Woods direct their Course,
And with an uncontroul'd, impetuous Force
O'erturn opposing Structures in their hast,
Tear up tall Pines, and lay the Forrest wast.
Some to the Ocean with like Speed resort,
And in loud Tempests on the Billows sport.
Embroil the Coasts, and in wild Outrages
Turn up to Heav'n, the Bottom of the Seas.
But husht at
Thor's Command they all obey,
And to their ancient Prisons haste away.
To him, thus
Lucifer, great Prince on thee
Fate has bestow'd the Empire of the Sea,
All there concern'd, invoke thy Deity.
The Merchants pray to thee to fill their Sails,
Enrich thy Priests, and purchase Prosperous Gales.
I too thy Suppliant, ask thy Powerful Aid,
A Haughty Prince, designing to invade
My Faithful Subject
Octa, and beguile
Me of my Hopes of fair
Britannia's Isle;
Sails with a Numerous Fleet, with Men and Arms,
And
Octa trembles at his Proud Alarms.
[Page 8]Let him in Furious Hurricanes be tost,
Be sunk, or wreckt, or on the Ocean lost,
Beat him at least, from his intended Coast.
Make him thy Vengeance feel, thy Power regard,
And be what e're thou askest, thy Reward.
Great Prince, then
Thor reply'd,
Who rul'st the Realms of Hell with Soveraign Sway,
Whom all th' Infernal Thrones, and Pow'rs obey,
I own Obedience to thy high Command,
Who putt'st this Scepter first into my Hand.
Thou led'st in Heav'n our bright Battalions on,
And bravely did'st attempt th' Almighty's Throne;
I saw thy mighty Deeds, and kept my Post
Close by thee, till that Glorious Day was lost.
Thy faded Splendor, and illustrious Scars,
From Ghasty Wounds, receiv'd in those just Wars,
I view with Reverence, 'tis true subdu'd
Headlong we fell from Heav'n's high Tow'r's, pursu'd
With Whirlwinds, and loud Thunder, down to Hell,
And Storms of Fire beat on us as we fell.
Yet after that, thou led'st us to invade
This Globous World, which we our Conquest made.
And my Election Patroniz'd by thee,
This great Command and Province fell to me.
That said, by him their heavy Gates unbar'd,
That loud on mighty Iron Hinges jarr'd,
Out ratling
Eurus, and loud
Boreas fly,
And with Outrageous Tempests fill the Sky.
They bend their Course strait to the British Coast,
And on those Seas lay out their Anger most.
Their Furious Wings the swelling Surges beat,
And rouse Old Ocean from his Peaceful Seat.
[Page 9]The raging Seas in high ridg'd Mountains rise,
And cast their angry Foam against the Skies.
Then gape so deep, that Day Light Hell invades,
And shoots grey Dawning thro' th' affrighted Shades.
Low bellying Clouds soon intercept the Light,
And o'er the
Britons spread a Noon Day Night.
Exploded Thunder tears th' Embowel'd Sky,
And Sulphurous Flames a dismal Day supply.
The Dire Convulsions, for a certain Space
Distorted
Nature, wresting from its Place
This
Globe, set to the Sun's more oblique View,
And wrench'd the
Poles some Leagues yet more askew.
Horrour, Confusion, Uproar, Strife and Fear
In all their wild amazing Shapes appear.
Mean time old
Chaos joyful at the Sight,
Look'd and smil'd horrible on older
Night,
Hoping that
Nature, their grand Foe would crack
With universal Ruin, and her Wreck
Would give them all their lost Dominions back.
The Sailor's Clamour, and enormous Cries,
The Crack of Masts, mix'd with the outrageous Noise
Of Storms and Thunder, rending all the Air,
Form the last Scene of Horror and Despair.
When the Just
Arthur fill'd with Grief and Dread,
And Pale Confusion, deeply sigh'd, and said,
O righteous Heaven, why hast thou rang'd this Day
Against me all thy Terrors in Array!
Arm'd in thy Cause, thy Temples to restore,
And give that Aid thy sacred Priests implore.
If thou such fierce Destruction dost dispence,
To punish some unpardon'd old Offence,
On me let all thy Fiery Darts be spent,
Let not my Crime involve the innocent.
[Page 10]Whelm o'er my guilty Head these raging Seas,
And let this Sacrifice thy Wrath appease,
But let the
British Youth return in Peace.
That said, his Ship unmasted, without Guide,
Driv'n by the Winds and Seas impetuous Tyde,
The Sight of all the scatter'd Navy lost,
Strikes on the Quicksand of an unknown Coast.
Mean time bright
Uriel, Heav'n's high Favourite,
Left the Celestial Palaces of Light,
Sent by supream Command, and down he flies,
Let by a Golden Sun-beam thro' the Skies.
Meekness divine, serene and Heav'nly Grace,
And fresh immortal Youth shone on his Face.
Godlike his Form, his Looks so charming mild
That where he came all ravish'd Nature smil'd.
He strait alights on lofty
Gobeum's Head,
That wonder'd at the Heav'n about it shed,
From the bright
Cherubim, who touch'd his Lyre,
Fam'd for his Sweetness in the Heav'nly Quire:
Th' enchanted Winds straightway their Fury laid,
Grew wondrous still, and strict Attention paid.
Aerial Demons that by Twilight stray,
Sport in loud Thunder, and in Tempest play,
Spread their brown Wings, and fly in Clouds away.
The Day returns, the Heav'ns no longer scowl,
And fierce Sea-Monsters charm'd forget to howl.
The Winds retreat, and leave the peaceful Waves,
To rest their Wings, and sleep in
Lapland Caves.
Soft
Zephirs only stay to fan the Woods,
And play in gentle Gales along the Floods.
The Ocean smiles to see the Tempest fled,
New lays his Waves, and smooths his ruffl'd Bed.
[Page 11]All things thus husht, great
Arthur gave Command
To quit their Ship, stuck in the barren Sand,
And in their Boats to make the Neighb'ring Land.
They spy a Creek not far a Peaceful Seat
Where flying Waves by furious Tempest beat,
Find from the fierce Pursuit a safe Retreat.
Free from th' outrageous Clamours of the Deep,
They rest secure, and unmolested sleep.
Stretcht smooth beneath the shady Trees and Rocks,
That guard them from the VVinds impetuous Shocks.
Here smaller Vessels may securely ride
And all th' Assaults of angry Sorms deride.
Here they arriv'd, and Heav'n they first ador'd,
That gave the Aid, their earnest Cries implor'd.
That sav'd them from the Winds, VVaves, Rocks and Storms,
Deaths of so many, and such hideous Forms.
Then for their parted Friends, with humble Prayer,
They ask Heav'n's Pity, and indulgent Care.
Now
Arthur from the Rock, views far and wide
The Seas beneath, if thence might be descry'd
The Friends he lately lost, but views in vain,
No Friend appears on all the Desart Main.
Return'd he thus began:
Too dark th' Eternal's ways are, too profound,
For the most sharp created Wit to sound.
Clouds black, as those that rise the sacred Fence
Of his high Throne, surround his Providence.
Whose walks are trackless, and on every hand
About her paths, shades and thick Darkness stand.
Her ways are so perplext, so wide her steps,
Such turns and windings, and such frightful leaps;
[Page 12]Such Gulphs, and interposing Rocks appear,
There such Ascents, such dreadful Downfalls here,
That Reason strait affrighted stops her pace,
Is soon thrown off, and quits th' unequal Chase.
Th' Almighty's Councils are so high and steep,
Immense, unbounded, without bottom deep;
Angels amaz'd from their high Thrones of Bliss,
Trembling look down on this profound Abyss.
Sometimes he seems to thwart his own intent,
Stop and defeat his long design'd event;
Yet which way e're he steers, his end's attain'd,
By uncouth means, with greater wonder gain'd.
Sometimes his high permission, leaves opprest
The Men most like him, and that serve him best:
But still their Sufferings and severer Fate
Prepare them for some glorious future state.
Invited by sad
Britain's Prayers, and Tears,
To save her State; and ease her deadly Fears,
VVe arm'd, depos'd Religion to enthrone,
T' enlarge the Christian Empire, not our own.
VVe arm'd thus, to restore in Hell's despight,
To Heav'n its VVorship, and to Men their Right.
Resume your Courage then, it can't be true,
That Heav'ns Revenge should Heav'n's own Cause pursue.
These Evils are not in displeasure meant,
Heav'n is too Just, and you too Innocent.
Success and Triumph will our Arms attend,
And these rough ways lead to a glorious End.
VVith Pleasure we hereafter shall relate
These suff'rings, that will greater Joys create.
He said, and all his anxious Cares supprest,
And kept conceal'd his trouble in his Breast.
[Page 13]VVith looks compos'd, 'twixt pleasure and despair,
Grave but serene, he bids them all repair
Their strength, exhausted with much toil and care.
Of Meats and Fruits part of their Naval Store,
That with them from their Ship they brought ashore:
Their weary Limbs repos'd, beneath the shade
Of well spread Trees, a grateful Meal they made.
Rich VVine of
Burgundy, and choice Champaigne,
Relieve the toil they suffer'd on the Main.
But what more chear'd them than their Meats and VVine,
VVas wise Instruction, and Discourse Divine,
From God-like
Arthur's Mouth, by Heav'n inspir'd;
That all their Breasts with sacred Passions fir'd.
Great were his Thoughts, strong and sublime his Sense
Of Heav'n's Decrees, Foreknowledge, Providence.
He reason'd deep of Heav'n's mysterious Ends,
And made stern Justice, and fair Mercy Friends.
How high he soar'd, how Noble was his flight,
Speaking of Truth divine, and VVisdom infinite!
He opens all the Magazins above,
Of boundless Goodness and Eternal Love.
From these rich Stores of Heav'n, these sacred Springs
Of everlasting Joy and Peace, he brings
Ambrosial Food, and rich Nectarean VVine,
That chear pure Souls, and nourish Life Divine.
He then compar'd this transient mortal state,
To the fierce Tempest they escap'd so late,
That here is every great and good Mans Fate.
If God-like Men for Heav'n embark, and stand
Their Course direct, to make the blissful Land;
Strait Hell the bloody signal gives to Arm,
Cain's cruel offspring takes the dire alarm;
[Page 14]And potent Fiends by Sea their Forces joyn,
T' obstruct their way, and break their brave design.
All with consummate Malice, furious Rage,
Against th' adventurous Voyagers engage.
Through all the Sky they raise outrageous Storms,
And Death stands threat'ning in a thousand Forms.
Clouds charg'd with loud Destruction drown the day,
And airy Daemons in wild VVhirlwinds play.
Thick Thunderclaps, and Lightning's livid glare
Disturb the Sky, and trouble all the Air.
Outrage, Distraction, Clamour, Tumult Reign,
Through the Dominions of the unquiet Main.
The labouring Bark with Heav'nly Treasure fraught,
Now almost sunk, now up in Tempests caught.
Near Sands and Rocks, rides on the dark Abyss,
Long beaten off from the bright Coasts of Bliss.
At last calm Day succeeds this stormy Night,
And the glad Voyagers find in their sight,
The Realms of Peace, and the blest Shores of Light.
Here they arrive, and find a safe Retreat,
And all their pain and labours past forget.
There was a Cave hard by, that Nature made
In the hard Rock, and cover'd with the shade,
Of spreading Trees, that Day could not invade.
Hither the Pious British Prince retires,
To offer Praises up and pure desires.
Here rapt'rous Converse he with Heav'n maintains,
And aided by Devotion's purest strains,
Combates Almighty Power, and Conquest gains.
Devotion, that oft binds th' Almighty's Arms,
And with her Prayers and Tears, her powerful charms,
Of all its Thunder, his right hand disarms.
[Page 15]She passes quick Heav'n's lofty Crystal Walls,
And the high Gates fly open when she calls.
The charming Goddess of Divine Address,
Has to th' Almighty's Presence free Access.
Her Power can sentenc'd Criminals Reprieve,
Judgment Arrest, and bid the Rebel live.
Her Charms did once the Sun's swift Chariot stay,
And on the Verge of Heav'n, held back the falling Day.
She makes contentious Winds forget their Strife,
And calls back to the Dead, departed Life.
Charm'd by her Voice, Rivers have stop'd their Course,
And the chill'd Fire laid down its burning Force.
Such is Devotion's Power, which
Arthur knew,
And when distress'd still to this Refuge flew.
Much to his Conduct he, much to his Arms,
But more he trusted to Devotion's Charms.
Of Triumph and Success he rarely fail'd,
For those on Earth, and these in Heav'n prevail'd.
Now in the silent, shady Cave retir'd,
He with her sacred Fury lay inspir'd.
The Prince being thus entranc'd, a Heav'nly Light
Shoots smiling through the Wood with silent flight:
The Trees admire the Glory on them shed,
And seem'd to start, and humbly bow their Head;
When fresh arriv'd on Earth, with Heav'n's Commands,
Great
Raphael's glorious Form by
Arthur stands.
Celestial Sweetness, Mild and God-like Grace
Ineffable, sat on his blooming Face.
His Cheeks such Beauty shew'd, such Light and Joy his Eyes,
As from full Bliss, fresh Youth, and Strength immortal rise.
The purest piece of Heav'n's Etherial Blue,
In a rich Mantle, from his Shoulders flew.
[Page 16]Celestial Linnen, finely Spun and Wove
On Looms Divine, by all the Skill above,
Bleach'd on th' Empyreal Plains till White as Snow,
Made the long Robe that to his Feet did flow.
Immortal Gold, Illustrious as the Morn,
And dazling Gemms by high Arch Angels worn,
With pond'rous Pearl, from Heav'n's bright Eastern Shore,
Adorn the shining Garments that he wore.
A Purple Girdle, from the Morning Sky
New rent, does round his Starry Vesture tye.
Thus he appear'd, and with the Light he gave,
And unknown Fragrancy, fill'd all the Cave.
Then thus he spake, Hail mine and Heav'n's kind Care,
Hither I come, drawn by thy powerful Prayer.
Know Righteous Prince, th' Almighty does approve,
Your firm Adhesion, and unshaken Love.
Ends Great and Wise lodg'd in his secret Breast,
Obstruct your Wishes, and your Course molest.
Yet still pursue your great and just Intent,
No Force or Arts shall your Design prevent,
Propitious Heav'n Decrees your wish'd Event.
You on these Coasts for happy Ends are thrown,
And after this, expect the British Crown.
Your Friends and Navy on the Ocean lost,
Are all arriv'd safe on th' Armorie Coast:
By the impetuous Tempest beaten back,
But Men and Ships sav'd from the threaten'd Wreck.
You're cast on
Hoel's Lands, amidst your Foes,
That hate your Cause, and your just Arms Oppose.
But fear not
Hoel's Power, though now your Foe,
By Hell incens'd, he will not long be so.
Go then directly to his Court, for there,
A Glorious Work demands your Pious Care.
[Page 17]That said, with outstretcht Wings he soars upright,
And through the Winds vast Empire takes his flight▪
He cuts the Clouds, and by the Planets flies
Up the steep Crystal Mountains of the Skies.
And swiftly passing through the Starry Sphears,
Before the Throne he in his place appears,
The Cherub's gone, and with him
Arthur's fears.
Who to his Lords returns, and to their Heart
Courage and Joy, his Words and Looks impart.
His God-like Language does their Fears abate,
And with fresh hopes their troubl'd Breasts dilate.
Mean time th' Infernal Thrones and Powers resort,
At their great Monarch's Summons to his Court.
Where they in Council meet, and there debate
Important matters, high Designs of State.
Their Prince with Pride extended, mounts his Throne,
Of polish'd Gold, whence horrid splendor shone:
And mingl'd with the Shades tremendous Light,
More dreadful thus, as Fires, that Flame by Night.
In sad Magnificence, and dismal State,
He sits, and round th' Infernal Orders sate:
Then
Lucifer began:
Immortal Potentates, Illustrious Lords,
The
British Youth's ambitious aim affords,
A weighty subject for your high debate;
Who seeks the ruin of your Pow'r and State.
You all have heard, how with a mighty Force
Embark'd, he strait for
Albion steer'd his Course,
King
Octa to attack, our Votary,
And make our Priests from our new Altars fly.
I watch'd, and aided by the Power of
Thor,
I shew'd the Miscreant another Shore.
[Page 18]His Fleet beat back, and haughty purpose croft,
He wanders, Shipwreckt on th' Armoric Coast.
Where faithful
Hoel does the Scepter hold,
Mighty in Arms, and in our Service bold.
Spirits Divine, high Peers of Hell, suggest,
By what sure Plagues he may be more distrest,
His Ruin finish'd, and his Sect opprest.
That said, a Fury crawls from out her Cell,
The bloodiest Minister of Death and Hell.
A monstrous Shape, a foul and hideous sight,
That did all Hell with her dire looks affright.
Huge, full gorg'd Snakes on her lean Shoulders hung,
And Death's dark Courts with their loud hissing rung.
Her Teeth and Claws were Iron, and her Breath,
Like Subterranean Damps, gave present Death.
Flames worse then Hells, shot from her bloody Eyes,
And Fire and Sword Eternally she Cries.
No certain Shape, no Feature regular,
No Limbs distinct in th' odious Fiend appear.
Her squallid, bloated Belly did arise,
Swoln with black Gore, to a prodigious Size.
Distended vastly, by a mighty Flood
Of slaughter'd Saints, and constant Martyrs Blood.
Part stood out prominent, but part fell down,
And in a swagging heap, lay wallowing on the ground.
A Monster so deform'd, so fierce as this,
It self a Hell, ne're saw the dark Abyss.
Horrour till now the ugliest Shape esteem'd,
So much out-done, a harmless Figure seem'd.
Envy and Hate, and Malice blush'd to see
Themselves Eclips'd by such Deformity.
Her Feaverish Thirst drinks down a Sea of Blood,
Not of the Impious, but the Just and Good.
[Page 19]'Gainst whom she burns with unextinguish'd Rage,
Nor can th' exhausted World her Wrath asswage.
Then thus the Fury Persecution spake:
I mighty Prince of Hell, will undertake
This glorious Work, I quickly will inspire
Hoel, with my ungovernable Fire.
Without remorse he shall my Will Obey,
And crush this
Briton, now his easie Prey.
Nero by me rais'd his Illustrious Name,
And
Dioclesian got Immortal Fame.
I their rude, inbred Cruelty refin'd,
And stampt my perfect Image on their Mind.
My flames all Love's course mixture did destroy,
And purg'd off soft Compassion's base alloy;
I form'd and disciplin'd their untaught Hate,
And rais'd their fierceness to a perfect State.
Where shame, and all reflecting Sense is lost,
And Hell can't purer strains of Malice boast.
Inexorable they all Cries withstood,
Ravish'd with Slaughter, and regal'd with Blood.
Hard marble Rocks might with more ease relent,
And Fire and Plague, learn sooner to repent.
Then Christian Kings my Fury entertain'd,
And taught by me, in Blood and Slaughter reign'd.
With pious Rage and fierce destructive Zeal,
I first inspir'd their Minds, and did reveal
The mystery, how deep Revenge to take,
And slay the Servants for the Master's sake.
How bloody Wrath might with Devotion joyn,
And sacred Zeal with Cruelty combine.
By me the unknown way they understood,
T' attone the Christians God, with Christian Blood.
[Page 20]By me they shook off Fear's and Love's Restraints;
And on God's Altars burnt his slaughter'd Saints.
I made them call, that all remorse might cease,
Murder Compassion, Desolation Peace.
Whilst my Infernal Heats their Breasts inspir'd,
To the vile Sect their own mad Zeal acquir'd,
Wider Destruction, and more fatal Harms,
Then all your
Scythian, or your
Gothick Arms.
And
Rome, proud
Rome her self, must owe to me
Her present State, and future Dignity.
The greatest Genius this, I e're could find,
And to receive my Image best inclin'd.
I will her Mind inspire, and to her Heart
Immortal hate, to
Abel's Race impart.
These Breasts she empties with her Infant Jaws,
I File her Teeth, and Shape her tender Claws.
I Nurse her on the horrid Alps high Tops,
And feed her hunger with
Cerberean Sops
Dipt in
Tartarean Gall, and Hemlock Juice,
That in her Veins will noble Blood produce.
Fierce Tygers, Dragons, Wolves about her stay,
They grin, and snap, and bite, and snarling play.
I to her Jaws, throw Infants newly Born;
She sucks their Blood, and by her Teeth are torn
Their tender Limbs, while I rejoyce to see
Such noble proofs of growing Cruelty.
To her wide Breast, and vast capacious Soul,
I often Torrents of black Poyson rowl:
She drinks the livid Flood, and through her Veins
Mad Fury runs, and wild Distraction reigns.
I'll lead her from the Rocks, her strength full grown,
Fix her high Seat in the Imperial Town,
And give her Scarlet, and a threefold Crown.
[Page 21]No Blood will then her mighty Thirst asswage,
No Ravage cloy her Antichristian Rage.
Her Mitred Sons that never can relent,
From the great
Cain, shall prove their high Descent.
Their Deeds of strange Infernal Cruelty,
Shall shew their Race worthy of Him and me.
Lay-Bigots, I with time and labour wrought,
Some inward Grudgings still against me fought:
'Twas hard to raise their hate to a degree,
From struggling Nature, and all Pity free.
But these Church-Zealots, of a truer breed,
Are form'd with Ease, and scarce my Labour need.
Their forward Genius without teaching grows,
And all my hopes, and ev'n my wish out-does.
How often shall thy glorious Sons, O
Rome,
With Martyrs Flames inlighten Christendom?
How often shall they, to deride their God,
Lift up in Prayer, their Hands all full of Blood?
The wasted World shall feel their loud Alarms,
Their blest Massacres, and their hallow'd Arms.
As if their high intent were to Efface,
All Footsteps left of
Abel's hateful Race.
Bloody Tribunals, Rapine, Fire and Sword,
And Desolation, dayly Sport afford.
Mankind they shall with such dire Plagues attack,
As will their Church a holy Desart make.
Such is my Zeal to serve th' infernal State,
And shall this
British Prince escape my Hate?
Forbid it Hell, and here she made a pause;
The Lords in Council gave a loud applause.
The Prince of Darkness leaping from his place,
Did in his Arms, his darling Fiend Embrace.
Her Anger then rose higher, and all Hell
Uneasie seem'd, she grew so terrible.
[...]
[...]
She strait contracts her vast dilated Size,
And through Hell's dusky Void, she upward flies.
As when rich Towns great Cost and Art employ
In Fire-works, to express their publick Joy,
For some great Vict'ry won by Land, or Sea,
Or on some Prince's Coronation Day.
The flaming Rockets hizzing fly by Night,
And fill the Sky with unknown Noise and Light.
The Sphears amaz'd stand, or move slowly on,
And wonder how the Day returns so soon,
And what new Stars rise brighter than their own.
So does the Fiend, her Snakes all hissing rise,
Through the thick haggair'd Air, and as she flies
Leaves tracks of Light, cast from her fiery Eyes.
And now arriv'd on the grey Coasts of Day,
Direct to
Hoel's Court she takes her way.
Where she alighted, when the Sun had hurl'd
His glorious Orb hence, to the other World.
'Twas then when all things look'd, as if old Night
Had Nature crush'd, and seiz'd her ancient Right,
Whilst Silence, Shades, and Lights around create,
Sad, solemn Pomp, t'express her Death-like state.
Winds, and wild Beasts lye in their Dens at rest,
Nor these the Woods, nor those the Seas molest.
The sleeping Vultures drop their prey, the Dove
Ceases her Cooing, and forgets to love.
The Jocond Fairies Dance their silent round,
And with dark Circles mark the trampled ground.
Tartarean Forms Skim o're the Mountains Heads,
Or lightly sweep along the dewy Meads.
Ghosts leave their Tombs hid Murders to reveal,
Or Treasures which themselves did once conceal.
[Page 23]Visions through th' Air, and careless Phantoms stray,
Or round Mens troubled Heads while sleeping play.
The Fury
Alman's Reverend Shape assumes,
Odin's High Priest, and so to
Hoel comes.
For the Priest's Form, is fittest to engage
Princes in Blood, and move destructive Rage.
Thus chang'd the Fiend, such is her Craft, appears,
And thus began, just
Hoel, all those years
I liv'd, I did with studious Care employ,
How best I might the Christian Crew destroy.
I thy great Soul in this blest Cause engag'd,
Inspir'd with Heats Divine, not yet asswag'd.
I quit
Elysian Pleasures to impart,
What does with greater Joy extend my Heart;
And will do thine,
Arthur, Curst be that Name,
Designing Empire, and Illustrious Fame
Embark'd with Arms, fair
Albion to invade,
But by just Heav'n, is thy cheap Captive made.
Pursu'd with Thunder, and in Tempests tost,
At last he's Shipwreckt on this happy Coast.
With his sad Friends he wanders up and down,
Naked, perplext, deserted, and undone.
But yet just Heav'n Decrees him greater Harm,
But saves that Glory for your Zealous Arm.
To take his Life must be your Pious Care,
And with the Gods divided Honour share.
Thus you their En'my, and your own remove,
Secure your Peace, and please the Pow'rs above.
To Christians this can be no Injury,
That call for Torments, and are pleas'd to Dye.
They all seem fond to wear the Martyr's Crown,
And meet the Flames, with greater of their own.
[Page 24]No Rights, no Rules of Justice you invade,
For Ruin's their Profession, Death their Trade.
Go then, and grace the
Briton, that comes on
To meet you, and receive the Martyr's Crown.
Remove this Pillar of their Church, and all
The unsupported Roof, will crack and fall.
Take this Defender of their Faith away,
The passive Rabble, tamely will Obey.
Their Lives in Sport you may at leisure take,
They quickly fall, that no Resistance make.
The Gods into your Hands have cast your Foe,
To take his Life will please Heav'n, him, and you.
That said, she breath'd her Soul into his Breast,
And her wild Fury all his Veins possest.
Infernal Flames Rage in his poison'd Blood,
And his swoln Heart Boils with th' impetuous Flood,
The Fiend her Shape of thicken'd Air dissolves,
And disappears,
Hoel surpriz'd revolves
The welcome message in his Mind, and strait
Commands his Lords and Guards should on him wait,
On the first Shooting of the tender Day,
So eager did he seem to seise the Prey.
Now was the Eastern Sky-dy'd Purple spread,
For fair
Aurora's Radiant Feet to tread.
She mounts serene, and with mild dawning Light,
Smiles on the lowring, dusky Face of Night;
That to Victorious Day yields up her Seat,
Whilst her black Forces silently Retreat.
As when a Lyon at the dawn of Day,
Rous'd with fierce Hunger up to Hunt his Prey,
Stretches his Limbs out, Yawns, and tries his Paws,
And for sure Death prepares his cruel Jaws.
[Page 25]He stands, and rolls about his Angry Eyes,
Lashing his Sides to make his Fury rise.
Then Scowrs the Hills, Ranges the Forrests o're,
And Thunders thro the Desart with his hideous Roar.
The Winds all husht sit trembling on the Trees,
And scarcely Whisper out a gentle Breeze.
Wolves dare not Howl, but grinning softly creep,
And Leopards stretcht out, feign themselves asleep.
Th' affrighted Herds close in their Covert lye,
And to escape his Rage, with Terrour dye.
Thus
Hoel, with infernal Rage possest,
With fierce desire speeds to the bloody Feast.
A deadly Storm does on his Forehead lowr,
Himself his Rage,
Arthur his Hopes devour.
Breathing out Death he march'd, but at mid-day,
He stands by Heav'n arrested in his way.
The Air serene a black thick Cloud appear'd,
And as it hover'd o're their Heads, were heard
Celestial Flutes, and Harps divinely Strung,
With Hymns and
Hallelujahs Set and Sung
By the best Masters of the Quire above,
With Bliss transported, and inspir'd with Love.
Whilst
Hoel and his Friends pleas'd, and amaz'd,
Listen'd, and on the Scene descending gaz'd;
The broken Cloud, pours out pure Floods of Light,
Show'rs of Celestial Rays transcendent bright,
And Storms of Splendor, dazling Mortal Sight.
Th' illustrious Tempest does on
Hoel beat,
Who falls astonish'd, headlong from his Seat.
Confounded with unsufferable Day,
Groveling in Glory on the shining Way,
And with bright Ruin overwhelm'd, he lay.
[Page 26]'Twas then, a soft, still Heav'nly Voice, that broke
From out the Cloud, to trembling
Hoel spoke.
'Gainst me, what Fury did thy Arms Engage?
What mov'd thee with inexorable Rage
Vain Man; to persecute my Saints and Me?
In vain thou seek'st to baffle Heav'n's Decree.
Vain is thy Force, and impotent thy Hate,
Too weak thy Arms, to stem the Tyde of Fate.
The Torrent bears thy saint Resistance down,
Retire, or in Eternal Ruin Drown.
Then
Hoel thus, O tell me, who thou art,
Great Spirit, and thy Will to me impart.
Tell me if Errour has my Feet misled,
What safer Paths I may hereafter tread.
The Voice reply'd:
I am the Christians God, whom you pursue.
Go meet my Servant
Arthur, he shall shew
At large, what thou hast to believe, what do.
The Scene here disappear'd, his Lords come round,
And rais'd reviving
Hoel from the Ground.
Who marches on, the
British Prince to find,
And Act not what himself, but Heav'n design'd.
With anxious Thoughts the Vision he revolves,
And to Obey Heav'n's high Command resolves.
Whilst to his Lords the Vision he relates,
They find themselves advanc'd to
Conda's Gates.
Arthur mean time, to whom great
Raphael's word,
Unshaken Hopes, and Courage did afford;
Proceeded on his Way, but sent before
Embassadors to
Hoel, to explore
[Page 27]His temper, and the Genius of his Court,
That he just steps might take by their Report.
He chose out to discharge this weighty Trust,
Valiant
Pollador, Roderick the Just;
And Faithful
Galbut, Friends that in distress,
(A thing unknown to Courts) their Love express.
Soon after
Hoel had his Entrance made,
At the same City they arriv'd, and staid
But little, for th' admission which they pray'd.
Then
Hoel first the
Britons thus addrest,
Let no sad Thought your pious Prince molest.
A Message sent from Heav'n preventing yours,
To me great Joy, Safety to him procures.
Friendship and Love, fill my enlighten'd Mind,
From Hatred purg'd, from Treachery refin'd.
Return, and let your Valiant Leader know,
His God has to a Friend, transform'd his Foe.
Tell him he's safe from all intended Harms,
And that I hast, t' Embrace him in my Arms.
With Regal Bounty, he to all presents
Rich Swords, and various splendid Ornaments.
To
Arthur sends a Chariot, dazling bright,
That to the Sun return'd redoubled Light.
And Horses of th'
Iberian Noble Race,
That right Descent from the swift
Eurus trace.
Bold, Gen'rous, Sprightly, as th' Illustrious Breed,
That in th' Etherial, blue Enclosures Feed.
That thro Heav'n's Wast, with the Sun's Chariot play,
And govern Time, by carrying round the Day.
Their Furniture of Gold, their Bridles Gold,
And golden Bits, their champing Mouths did hold.
They hast and all their Diligence employ,
To fill Just
Arthur's Mind, with Peace and Joy.
[Page 28]To him returning they impart at large,
The kind, endearing Things they had in Charge.
As when his Sons to
Iacob did relate,
That
Ioseph liv'd, and liv'd in Regal State;
Telling of all his Riches, Power, Renown,
Egypt's Support, and Prop to
Pharoah's Crown.
Resistless Floods of sudden Pleasure Roll
Along his Veins, and break in on his Soul.
He sinks beneath the pressure of his Joy,
And
Ioseph's Life, does almost his destroy.
Then Doubts and Fears, his Joys, high Tyde oppose,
From which Contention fiercer Tempests rose.
While his cross Passions fight with equal Power,
Each Triumphs in his turn, as Conquerour.
The
Patriarch in this Distraction lost,
Is in each Storm with equal Danger tost.
But when the Chariots and rich Train he saw,
He did from thence fresh Life and Vigour draw.
His Breast from all contending Passions freed,
Calm Joy, and unmolested Peace succeed.
Enough the
Patriarch was heard to Cry,
I'll hast to
Ioseph's Arms, and in them Dye.
So when Just
Arthur heard the Message first,
His wavering Mind with Fears and wise Distrust,
And rising Tydes of suddain Joy was tost,
Uncertain which strong Passion press'd him most.
But when he saw the Presents
Hoel sent,
His Doubts suppress'd, he grew more Confident.
And his calm Mind eas'd of his anxious Cares,
T' embrace his new, and generous Friend prepares.
And now advancing Night the Sky invades,
While close pursu'd by the Victorious Shades.
[Page 29]The Rayes that faintly from the Ground recoil,
On the green Fields, let fall their pearly spoil.
When
Arthur to his secret Joys retires,
Where his exhaling Soul to Heav'n aspires,
In sacred Anhelations, and inflam'd Desires.
Fixt Contemplation feeds his Hope and Love,
With rapt'rous Preludes to the Joys above.
His ravish'd Eyes view the unmeasur'd Bliss,
In the next Life enjoy'd, believ'd in this.
So
David often pass'd the silent Night,
And in his Transports felt sublime Delight,
Surpassing all that mighty Monarchs have,
That his own Crown, and all his Triumphs gave.
While baser Birds the humble Vally love,
And sing contented with their little Grove;
The Eagle's generous Pride does nobly rise
To Heav'n, and thence does this low World despise.
Scorning a Vulgar Bough, he thinks he sees
Woods in the Clouds, and hanging Groves of Trees.
Thither he hasts, and leaves th' ignoble Brood,
That aim no higher, to their Shrubs and Wood.
If to his Prey he stoops, ashamed he flies
Back to his airy Dwelling in the Skies.
Where in the Clouds he hides his Royal Head,
Safe from the Snares, that watchful Fowlers spread▪
So Men of courser Mould, and baser Birth,
Pleas'd with the Dust lye grov'ling on the Earth.
For Food their Souls all foul and bloated, seek
The Damps and Steams, that from its Bowels reek.
While Men divinely Born, still upwards move,
And scorn this World, that courts in vain their Love.
In Flames of Zeal, and Pangs of pure Desire,
These to the Seats of Light and Peace aspire.
[Page 30]Where they converse with the blest Minds above,
And wonder what on Earth invites Mens Love.
This Molehill Earth has lost its former Charms,
Molehill for Bulk, and Stings wherewith it swarms.
With Wonder they observe how Mortals Pride,
Can into Kingdoms this small Heap divide.
How one t' enlarge the Empire he has got,
Invades the Borders of his Neighbour's spot.
How this proud Monarch of a Turf, is vext
With restless cares, to dispossess the next.
As Heav'n's vast Globes that fill the World with Light,
Seem little Balls to distant Mortals sight,
That in the most capacious Planets, we
No room for States, and large Dominions see.
So these more noble Minds advanc'd so high,
Believe the same of us, that from the Sky,
The low-hung Earth's contracted Body Spy.
They keep above free from the fatal Nets,
That for unwary Feet the Tempter sets.
Free from the Earth's dark smoke, and endless Noise,
They dwell in Peace, and feed on Heav'nly Joys.
Such Pleasures
Arthur while retir'd, enjoy'd,
And wish'd he ever might be thus employ'd.
And now th' radiant Gates of th' Eastern Sky,
Unbar'd by bright
Aurora, open fly.
Strait issues out the Sun with mighty Force,
As Gyants do, prepar'd to run his Course.
The joyful
Britons all things ready make,
And their new Friend to meet, their Journy take.
Scarce had the Sun his glitt'ring Chariot driv'n,
Up the steep Brow, and sharp Ascent of Heav'n.
When the glad Princes did each other meet,
And
Hoel thus did first the Stranger greet.
As a faint Traveller in
Arabian Sands,
Scorcht with the burning Sun-beams, panting stands,
Views the dry Desart with despairing Eyes,
And for the Springs, and distant Rivers Sighs.
As Sailers long for Land, Heav'n's Aid implore,
And with their greedy wishes grasp the Shore;
When beaten from the hospitable Coast,
And in loud Storms upon the Ocean tost;
Where Ruin in so many Shapes appears,
They scarcely can attend to all their Fears.
I've wish'd to see you with the like desire,
The Oracle of whom I must enquire,
The way to Peace, and Everlasting Bliss,
Which lost in Night, and unknown Paths, I miss.
When first I set out with an hostile Mind,
And Evils which I dread to name, design'd;
The Powers that guard your sacred Life alarm'd,
Soon interpos'd, and my wild Hand disarm'd.
Kind Heav'n that both our Safeties did design,
Turn'd from your Head the Blow, the Guilt from mine.
For on the way a Glory dreadful Bright
Around me shone, and with excessive Light.
As they do Stars, the weaker Sun-beams drown'd:
I as transfixt, fell headlong to the Ground.
'Twas then a wondrous Heav'nly Voice I heard,
The words were these, but no blest Face appear'd.
'Gainst me what Fury does thy Arms engage?
What moves thee with inexorable Rage
Vain Man, to persecute my Saints and me?
In vain thou striv'st to baffle Heav'n's Decree.
Vain is thy Force, and Impotent thy Hate,
Too weak thy Arms to stem the Tide of Fate.
[Page 32]The Torrent bears thy faint Resistance down,
Retire, or in Eternal Ruin drown.
I strait cry'd out, O tell me who thou art
Great Spirit, and thy Will to me impart.
Tell me if Error has my Feet misled,
What safer Paths I may hereafter tread.
The Voice reply'd:
I am the Christians God, whom you pursue,
Go find my Servant
Arthur, he shall shew
At large, what thou hast to believe, what do.
Prince
Arthur paus'd a while, then Silence broke,
And friendly thus th' Armoric King bespoke.
Th' Eternal's Providence I must adore,
That has compell'd me to th' Armoric Shore.
That I might here, serve such a glorious End,
And to the Christian Cause gain such a Friend.
Goodness Divine, King
Hoel does invite
By Miracles, t' enjoy Celestial Light.
Cast on your Coasts, with Pleasure I will stay,
To aid and guide you in your Heav'nly way.
To whom th' Armoric Monarch thus Reply'd;
VVhile we to
Nannetum together ride,
Instruct, O Pious Prince, my willing Mind:
It is a task your God has you design'd.
Unfold his Heav'nly Will, and let me know,
What Worship to him, what Belief, I owe.
To whom the Prince, this favour must I ask,
Before I undertake the pious Task:
That you'll dispatch your Servants to the Coast,
To seek my Friends out, in the Tempest lost.
And if by chance cast on th' Armoric Shore,
They wander up and down, distress'd and poor,
[Page 33]Your angry Subjects, may not them annoy,
Nor with devouring Flames, their Ships destroy.
This Friendship shewn, I'll with a cheerful Mind,
Attempt the Task by you, and Heav'n enjoyn'd.
When the past Night did with her dusky Train
Advance, o'er shadowing all th' Aierial Plain;
A sudden Transport did my Soul engage,
And all my Limbs shook with the sacred Rage.
Straight caught up from the Body, through the Skies
To the third Heav'n, my ravish'd Soul did rise.
Where Things ineffable I saw, and heard
Divine Instruction, which my Mind prepar'd
To aid you in your Heav'nly Way, and shew
What Worship, to th' Eternal Mind is due.
Straight
Hoel to the Shores his Servants sent,
Who might the Harms, that
Arthur fear'd, prevent.
Who might the hapless
Britons kindly treat,
And safe conduct them to his Royal Seat.
Such Love the King to
Arthur's Friends exprest,
Who now prepar'd t' obey the King's Request.
ATtentive
Hoel's Eyes on
Arthur's Face
Were fixt, who thus began with God-like grace.
Before th' unshaken Pillars of the Earth
Were Reer'd, before prolifick
Nature's Birth,
Before the Register of
Time begun,
Or Heav'n's bright Forces throng'd about the Sun,
Was a wild
Void, that no set Bounds restrain'd,
Where Silence, Night, and Desolation reign'd.
Where yet no glimmering track of Light appear'd,
No Discord yet, or Harmony was heard.
From Ages past lay in th'
Eternal's Mind,
A finish'd Model of a
World, design'd
To be Erected by Almighty Hands,
VVhere now this Round, Capacious Fabrick stands.
The deep Foundations laid, in Heav'n they said
A strange new
World was making, Fame soon spread
The tydings through the Palaces of Bliss,
To see a work so wonderful as this,
Millions of Angels to Heav'n's Turrets fly,
And on the Crystal Terras of the Sky,
Stood in bright Throngs, and on
Creation gaz'd,
And at the Sight were ravish'd, and amaz'd.
Almighty Vigour strove through all the Void,
And such prolifick Influence employ'd,
[Page 36]That ancient, barren Night did pregnant grow,
And quicken'd with the World in Embrio.
The struggling Seeds of unshap'd Matter ly,
Contending in her Womb for Victory.
No Order, Form, or Parts distinct and clear,
Did in the Crude Conception, yet appear.
Thick Darkness did the unripe Light Embrace,
That faintly glanc'd on Chaos shady Face.
The unfledg'd Fire has no bright Wings to rise,
But scarce distinguish'd, with the Water lies.
It's sprightly, ruddy Youth not yet attain'd,
The glitt'ring Seeds, Mother of Fire, remain'd
Like golden Sands, thick scatter'd on the Shore,
Of the wild Deep, and shone in burning Oar.
In glowing Heaps the Stars lay dusky bright,
Rude and unpolish'd Balls of unwrought Light.
The Sphears pil'd up about their Poles were Furl'd,
Design'd the Swadling Bands of th' Infant World.
The Sky dispers'd, lay in Etherial Oar,
And azure Veins, betray'd th' Empyreal Store.
The watry Treasures in th' unfashion'd Birth,
Lay in the rough Embraces of the Earth.
But at the great Command will Thaw, and throw
The Dross off, and like melted Metals flow.
Besides vast numbers of loose Atoms stray,
And in the restless Deep of Chaos play.
In dark Encounters they for Empire strive,
And gain what Chance, and wild Confusion give.
Which joyntly here possess the Sov'raign Sway,
Pleas'd with those Subjects most, that least Obey.
Order, a banish'd Rebel, flies the Place,
And Strife and Uproar fill the noisy Space.
Tumult and Misrule please at Chaos Court,
And everlasting Wars his Throne Support.
[Page 37]Troops arm'd with Heat have here a Battel won,
But Moist and Cold the Victor soon dethrone.
Here heavier Seeds rush on in numerous Swarms,
And crush their Lighter Foes, with pond'rous Arms.
The Lighter strait Command with equal Pride,
And on wild Whirlwinds in mad Triumph ride.
None long submits to a Superiour Power,
Each yields, and in his turn is Conquerour.
If some grown mild from fierce Contention cease,
And with calm Neighbours court a separate Peace;
If Truce they make, and in kind Leagues combine,
Their short Embraces some rude Shocks disjoyn.
Th' Eternal's Voice compos'd these Atoms jars,
And justling Elements intestine Wars.
He sets imprison'd Heat and Vigour free,
And suits and ranges Natures that agree.
He through the Mass a mighty Ferment spread,
And where it came mis-shap'd Confusion fled.
Dark Chaos now throws off his gloomy Face,
Puts on fresh Beauty, and a Heav'nly Grace.
Th' Almighty
spake, and strait the Sprightly Light
With lovely Looks broke from th' Abyss of Night;
On Golden Wings it mounts, and in its way
Its Smiles diffuse new Morn, and unripe Day.
Aloft vast spreading Sheets of Ether rise,
Matter for Sphears, and pure transparent Skies.
The Sky that for its Compass scarce finds room,
Spun thin, and wove on Nature's finest Loom.
The new-born World in its soft Bosom wraps,
And all around its Starry Mantle laps.
The Sun's vast Globe that till the Birth of Day,
All Rough and Cloudy in wild Chaos lay;
Well wrought and polish'd, is advanc'd on high;
The vagrant Beams that stray'd about the Sky,
[Page 38]Now becken'd by Creating Power obey,
And the bright Forces hither hast away.
Then hov'ring on the Spungy Globe they wait,
And round their new appointed Mansion fate.
The thirsty Orb drinks in the liquid Beams,
And now but one vast Sea of Glory seems.
It self a Heav'n with dazling Lustre bright,
Pours out pure Floods of overflowing Light.
Here as in Furnaces of boiling Gold,
Stars dipt come back, full as their Orbs can hold
Of glitt'ring Light, here too the Moon all drown'd,
Does with the Golden Metal fill her Round.
Sometimes half dipt it but in part adorns
Her Face, and shines with Blunt, Refulgent Horns.
Th' Etherial Plain now cultivated bears,
A shining Harvest of Illustrious Stars.
That at a distance seem small Lights, but near
Capacious Realms, and glorious VVorlds appear.
The Sphears spread forth their Bosoms, now refin'd,
And Belly out, like Sails swoln big with Wind.
The Air beat out, and purify'd does lye,
A Crystal deep between the Earth and Sky.
Through this thin Void the Sun's indulgent Beams,
Flow gently on the Earth in Golden Streams.
That kindly steal away the Watry Store,
And rob the Earth, but to enrich it more.
The Earth with its own Burden tir'd, and prest
Down with its weight, lies in the midst at rest.
A Deep broke up,
God calls the Waters, they
Feel the Command, and with quick flight Obey.
In mighty Heaps the foaming Deluge flows,
High liquid Walls and curling Ridges shows.
Some Waters with a smooth and gentle Tyde,
On the Earth's plain and level Surface glide.
[Page 39]Others that meet a Steep abrupt Descent;
Roll down in Floods more loud and turbulent.
At last they fall from the high Precipice,
In noisy Floods into the dark Abyss.
Till the vast Deluge with its liquid Stone,
Fills up the Deep, and Crowns the Ambient Shore.
Now their tall Heads the rising Mountains show,
And wide mouth'd Vallies sink themselves, as low.
The Earth as yet all bare and naked lay,
For Heav'n's Command th' imprison'd Spirits stay.
God spake, and straight a lovely Spring appears,
And every Field fresh, verdant Cloathing wears.
Green Herbs adorn the Hills aspiring Heads,
And smiling Flowers paint the Enamell'd Meads.
Trees starting up, lifted their Heads so high,
They met the Clouds descending from the Sky.
Some rang'd in beauteous Order, Stately stood,
Others press'd close, and throng'd into a Wood.
Some where the Sun gives more indulgent Heat,
Transparent Gums, and Od'rous Juices Sweat.
The fragrant Balsom-Tree distills around,
Her healing Riches on the neighbouring Ground.
The humble Jess' mine breaths Perfumes abroad,
And wanton Zephyrs bear the balmy Load.
Pure Crystal Rivers through the Meadows flow,
Their flowry Banks smile on them, as they go.
Their watry Train in Snaky Windings slides,
And in their Streams the scaly Nation glides.
Birds glad to try their Wings rise from the Earth,
And with their Songs they Celebrate their Birth.
Beasts in their various Kinds all Mild, and Tame,
Stood gazing round, and wonder'd whence they came.
The Bleating Flocks wander on every Hill,
And lowing Herds the Ecchoing Vallies fill.
[Page 40]The sporting Lyon Paws the wanton Bear,
Wolves seek the Woods, the Lawns the timorous Deer.
The Crested Snake rolls on the flowry Plain,
The shining Volumes of his Spiral Train.
Leviathan in th' Ocean takes his place,
Prince of the Waters, and the Finny Race.
Rolling amidst the Waves, he takes his Sport,
As a great Sea-God in his watry Court.
Swimming to Land he drives high Seas before,
Like a great Island floating near the Shore.
In wanton pastime he sucks in with Ease,
Then spouts against the Skies th' exhausted Seas:
Like some prodigious Water-Engine made
To play on Heav'n, if Fires should Heav'n invade.
So fair, so rich a Paradise as this,
Almighty Power call'd from the dark Abyss:
To keep the Birth-day of the World, the Spring
Does all her Joys and fragrant Riches bring.
Nature appearing in her brightest Dress,
Does all her Sweets and Heav'nly Charms express.
The Sphears in tuneful Measures Roll above,
And Heav'n's bright Orbs in beauteous Order move.
The smiling Earth discovers perfect Joy,
Where nothing noxious can its Peace annoy.
The Air's so soft, such balmy Odours fly,
So sweet the Fruits, so pure and mild the Sky,
The Blissful States, too great to be exprest,
By all the Pleasures of the wanton East,
By th'
Arab's Sweets from
Zephirs tender VVings
Gently shook off, or what the Merchant brings
Of Forreign Luxury with tedious Toil,
From
Asia's Coast, or soft
Campania's Soil.
[Page 41]Thus after five days Labour Nature stood,
God view'd his Creatures, and pronounc'd them Good.
But still there wanted one that might adore
Divine Perfections, and Heav'n's Gifts implore.
That might himself, and his great Author know,
Obey his
God, and rule as God below.
Then
Man was made, the Author fram'd and wrought
The purer Mould with more Concern and Thought.
His Mind made up of pure Etherial Air,
Came from the Hands Divine all Bright and Fair.
And lodg'd in Clay did at its Entrance give
So quick a touch, as made that Clay to live.
And both united with such wondrous Art,
In part he's Angel, Animal in part.
In whom the Bounds of both the Worlds are seen,
Where Earth does terminate, and Heav'n begin.
One part, like sprightly Flames, will upward move▪
Kin to the blest, unbody'd Minds above.
The other, only shap'd and quicken'd Earth,
From moulded Dust receives its humble Birth.
Yet Life divine, and high Perfection gains,
Ennobled by the Guest it entertains.
His Form erect, and Cherub-like his Face,
Where Sweetness temper'd Stern and Manly Grace.
Mil'd to be lov'd, and awful to be fear'd,
He, like some new discover'd God, appear'd.
Then did
th' Almighty to his Bosom give,
To bless him perfectly, his Consort
Eve.
Of a more soft and nicely temper'd Mould,
Her strokes were tender, his more strong and bold.
Sweetness that ravish'd, milder than the Morn,
And perfect Beauty did her Looks adorn.
She like a Goddess, with the Heav'nly Charms,
Of blushing Innocence, comes to his Arms.
[Page 42]What Joys Divine did on the Fav'rite wait,
These happy Hours that knew his Native State!
His Work thus finish'd, and Creation done,
Th' Almighty rests on his Eternal Throne.
Straight the loud Shouts and Acclamations giv'n,
Shook the high Towers and jarring Gates of Heav'n.
There stood an Alabaster Mount that shone,
In th' Air sublime, from the Imperial Throne
Remov'd at distance, and between them lay,
All pav'd with Stars, a broad, frequented way.
Hither for great Assemblies they repair,
From all the Regions of the Etherial Air.
Here they in perfect Love and Peace debate,
Th' Affairs that most affect their sacred State.
Hither the Princes of the Heav'nly Court,
Follow'd with Throngs unnumber'd now resort.
There met, a solemn Jubilee they Vote,
In Honour of the Wonders lately wrought.
Straight a Procession publick was enjoyn'd,
And thus perform'd t' adore
th' Eternal Mind.
Trumpets march'd first, and chiefly that whose Sound
Shall strike Convulsions through the trembling ground:
Break their dark Prisons down, and call away
Th' awaken'd Dead, on the great Judgment Day.
Next Heav'nly Viols, soft harmonious Flutes,
Resounding Dulcimers, and tuneful Lutes
And Harps, like that which hangs the glitt'ring Pride,
As Poets feign, of young
Apollo's side.
With perfect Skill here chosen Cherubs play,
And Celebrate th' Almighty's Resting Day.
Then the blest Voices came with Hymns of Praise,
Angelick Musick, sweet Melodious Lays,
[Page 43]Such as bright Spirits in high Raptures sing,
Around the Throne of their Eternal King.
Now the first Rank of Potentates and Peers,
Mighty Arch-Angels, and high Thrones appears.
Crowns of substantial, massy Glory made,
Adorn'd with Gems, and Flow'rs that never Fade,
And Greens of Heav'nly growth all wreath'd between,
Are on the Heads of this bright Order seen:
Fresh Greens and Flow'rs, such as their Gardens bring,
Blest with mild Rays, and Everlasting Spring.
Vials of Incense in their Hands they bare,
And the sweet Clouds in Wheels roll up the Air.
Odours not to be told, fann'd from them fly,
And wondrous Fragrancy Perfumes the Sky.
Each had his Lyre, that from his Shoulders hung,
With Golden VVire, like radiant Sun-beams, strung.
Such was their Splendour, with such grace they trod,
In Looks and Motion each appear'd a God.
Hither thick Crowds of vulgar Angels made,
And to admire this glorious Order staid,
And, as they pass'd, humble Obeisance paid.
Then lower Ranks in long Procession pass'd,
VVith Crowns and Badges of Distinction grac'd.
And all so Splendid, all so Rich and Gay,
That Heav'n before ne'er saw, so bright a Day.
Unfading Roses of a Heav'nly Red,
On the bright Pavement were profusely spread.
Elysian Jess'mine, and blest Am'rant lay,
In od'rous heaps along the Milky way.
The Fountains all such Cost was then bestow'd,
VVith unexhausted Springs of Nectar flow'd.
And now advanc'd before th' Imperial Throne,
That losty with excessive Brightness shone,
[Page 44]They from th' uneasie Lustre of the Light,
Protected with spread Wings their dazled sight.
In prostrate Adoration down they fell,
Opprest with Glory unsupportable.
Entranc'd, Transported, Ravish'd there they ly,
And with blest
Hallelujahs fill the Sky.
In Songs Sublime they praise th' Eternal Mind,
His Works from all the Ages past design'd,
His Greatness, Wisdom, Empire unconfin'd.
His Justice, that no Force or Prayer can move:
His spotless Truth, and Everlasting Love.
They Sing th' Eternal Son's Immortal Praise,
And to an equal height the sacred Spirit raise.
Then all arising from the sacred Quire,
O'erflowing with unbounded Joys, retire
To the blest Shades of the Celestial Bowers,
Where oft they choose to pass their happy Hours.
Their Hunger here delicious Banquets met,
With vast Profusion on rich Tables set,
Banquets Divine, not such as Mortals Eat.
High Dishes in long Pomp and Order stood,
Fill'd with choice Fruits, rare Meats, all Angels Food.
Ambrosial Juices, sweet Nectarean Wine,
Ravish'd their Taft, and made their Faces Shine.
The Sons of God thus chear'd, dissolve in Joy,
Whilst his high Praises their blest Tongues employ.
In Joys and Triumphs so the Day they spend,
Such Mirth and Show the Festival attend;
Then when the Ev'ning came, or what instead
Of Evening there, does in its turn succeed.
Glorious illuminations made on high,
By all the Constellations of the Sky,
In bright Degrees, and shining Orders plac'd,
Spectators charm'd, and the blest Dwellings grac'd.
[Page 45]Through all th' inlight'n'd Air rare Fireworks flew,
Which the Celestial Youth with Shouting threw.
Comets fly up with their red sweeping Train,
Then fall in Starry Showers, and glitt'ring Rain.
In th' Air ten Thousand Meteors blazing hung,
That from Heav'n's gilded Battlements were slung.
Here furious, flying Dragons hissing came,
Here harmless Fires play in a lambent Flame.
Such Universal Joy in Heav'n they shew'd,
And in such hallow'd Mirth the day conclude.
In such Delights they pass their time above,
And so shall we, if like them, we Obey and Love.
In all the Joys that happy Minds attain,
Blest
Adam first began to live and reign.
He to fair
Eden's Paradise resorts,
Where every Sense its proper Pleasure courts.
The joyful Spring by soft
Favonius fan'd,
Diffus'd her Riches with a wanton Hand.
From new-blown Flowers luxurious Odours fly,
And Heav'nly Landskips meet his ravish'd Eye.
The twining Branches weave him shady Bowers,
And Hony-Dews fall in delicious Showers.
Birds with their Songs their Soveraign salute,
From Boughs that bend beneath their Golden Fruit.
Pure Streams to him their Crystal Waters bring,
And the glad Fish leap up, to see their King.
The harmless Beasts their humble Homage paid,
And the sole Monarch of the World obey'd▪
Uninterrupted Peace his Mind possest,
And Joys unutterable fill'd his Breast.
He view'd his great Creator's glorious Face,
Clearly reflected from fair Nature's Glass.
[Page 46]On her bright Form he saw, th' Impressions shine,
Of
Wisdom Infinite, and
Pow'r Divine,
Whence all things, as free Examinations flow,
As Streams their Being to their Fountain owe.
Which binds fast Nature's vast unshaken Frame,
Lest it dissolve to Nothing, whence it came.
Whilst in his Thoughts the pleasing Objects Roll,
Fresh Pleasures Feed his still transported Soul.
His Eyes thus fixt, the great Seducer's Skill,
Could not engage his Thoughts, or move his Will.
A Day Serene smil'd on his Heav'nly Mind,
Dark with no Cloud, and undisturb'd with Wind.
No Guilt, no Frown from Heav'n disturbs his Soul,
Calm as deep Rivers in still Evenings roll.
No Storms of Passion, such as us molest,
Annoys the Peaceful Region of his Breast.
No boiling Lust swell'd the o'erflowing Blood,
To bear down Reason with th' impetuous Flood.
His spotless Mind knew yet no other Fire,
Then those pure Flames, that Heav'nly Minds inspire.
O happy Man! above description blest,
Had he maintain'd the Station he possest.
Upon the Crystal River's flowry side,
That winding did in slow Meanders glide;
As loath to leave the Blissful Place, there stood
A Tree that rose above th'
Hesperian Wood,
Its Fruit seem'd pleasant, but forbidden Food.
For he that with enormous Bounty pours
On Man, fresh Pleasures in incessant Showers;
That nothing can disturb his flowing Joys,
Unless Variety suspends his Choice.
Bids him not Eat the fatal Fruit, to prove
His due Obedience, and his constant Love.
[Page 47]The grand Apostate for high Crimes displac'd,
From Heav'n by fierce Almighty Vengeance chas'd,
Till down th' unfathom'd Precipice he fell
Confounded, to the fiery Gulph of Hell:
With Rage and Envy sees Man's happy State,
Whence he for ever lost had fall'n so late,
Himself undone urg'd with infernal Spight,
And dire Revenge, makes Ruin his delight.
That he from Heav'n might this fair Province gain,
That Sin and Death might wider Sway attain,
And he his baleful Empire might extend,
Conceal'd beneath the specious Air of Friend,
Does to Man's Choice the fatal Tree commend.
As such whose Worth transcends the greatest price,
The Flower and Beauty of his Paradise.
Pleasing to Tast, but much more to the Mind,
Which those that Eat, should boundless Knowledg find.
Then points up to the fair forbidden Meat,
Bids him be Wise, and boldly take, and Eat.
He tempts him with the flatt'ring Hopes of Bliss,
Great as his God's, and lasting too, as his.
This gaudy Scene of Glory charm'd his Eye,
And his proud thoughts at God-like Greatness fly.
The bright Illusion turn'd his giddy Head,
And with vast Hopes his vain Ambition fed.
Thus gazing at the Glory of a God,
The Precipice was hid on which he trod.
The splendid Phantome now advances nigh,
And in his reach appears Divinity.
Which straight he grasps at, and to hold the more,
Empties his Hand of what it held before.
But sooner might he grasp unbody'd Minds,
And with clos'd Arms clasp in the raging Winds.
[Page 48]The glorious Shadow from his Hands does slide,
Mocks his Embraces, and defeats his Pride.
He Eat, but did no other Pleasures find,
Than the sad Terrors of a guilty Mind.
His cheated Hopes can no new Knowledge boast,
But of the Ill he feels, and Good he lost.
Thus fell lost Man, straight troubled Nature moan'd,
And shaking, with a strong Convulsion groan'd.
Ev'n Paradise look'd Sad, the Herds repin'd,
And lofty Cedars shook without a Wind.
The Roses fade, the Golden Apples turn'd
Pallid, and all the Sick Creation mourn'd.
To the thick Trees in vain fall'n
Adam made,
To hide his blacker Guilt beneath their Shade.
Close Trees may so their well mixt Branches spread,
That Sun-beams cannot pierce their shady Head.
But God's clear Eye needs not so gross a Ray,
His Glory sheds a more Illustrious Day.
But had he been from his bright Eye conceal'd,
The crying Guilt had to his Ear reveal'd
Apostate Man, that Voice to Heav'n does rise
Loud, as the Thunder-claps, for which it cries.
What a black Train of VVoes and hideous Fears,
Headed by one bold Crime, to Man appears.
The Serpent's Venom spreads through all his Veins,
And Sin's Contagion unresisted Reigns.
A Death-like Damp shoots through his poison'd Blood,
And fears cold Chains Arrest the beating Flood.
A dreadful Face of Things confounds his Eye,
He cannot stay secure, nor can he fly.
Black thoughts of Vengeance seize his guilty Heart,
And Conscience wounds him, with her poison'd Dart.
[Page 49]Amidst the Trees he starts at every Noise,
Grows pale, and thinks he hears th' Almighty's Voice.
The trembling Branches make him tremble more,
Now feebler, than the Fig-leaves, which he wore.
Man's Soul, by this rude Shock from's Center driv'n,
Stands so a-skaunt, and so remote from Heav'n,
'Tis scarcely warm'd by its weak, Oblique Ray,
And has at best but a cold, darksome Day.
Fall'n from its bright Etherial Seat on high,
Down to the lowest Regions of the Sky,
It feels th' attractive Earth's Magnetick Force,
And round this low-hung Ball directs its Course.
As when a Planet, once all fair and bright,
Sickens, and shines with pale and faded Light;
By some fierce Storm bred in its Bowels rent,
As Clouds are by the Thunder in 'em pent.
The mighty Orb disjoynted cracks, and all
The broken Parts in Noisy Ruin fall.
The hideous, Burning Hull does floating lie,
And with the wondrous Wreck affrights the Sky.
Sometimes it blazes with a dismal Light,
And then grown dim, seems lost and drown'd in Night.
Then sinking does the Starry Sky forsake,
Contented some inferior Seat to take.
Where Heav'n new moulds the Heap, and from th' Abyss,
Calls forth perhaps a Moon, or Earth, like this.
So Man seduc'd by the Impostor fell,
From Heav'n's bright Coasts, to the black Verge of Hell.
There he his Lustre lost, and God-like Grace,
Shews the sad Ruins of a Heav'nly Face.
Where Peace dwelt undisturb'd, and smiling Light,
Confusion now, Chaos and horrid Night.
[Page 50]Black, frowning Clouds, and murmuring Thunder rose,
O'er the vext Region of his guilty Soul.
Fierce, driving Storms, and bleak Tempestuous Wind
Beat on the wasteful Desart of his Mind.
Revenge, Despair, Grief, Jealousie, and Fear,
Have in their Turns, supreme Dominion here.
Reason dethron'd must the Commands obey
Of this wild Rout, that holds the Sovereign Sway.
Mean Time, th' Almighty does his Summons send,
Thro' Heav'n for all his Angels to attend.
High in the Midst of the Etherial Skies,
A Mount of rocky Diamond did rise:
Insuperably steep, and too sublime
For the tir'd Wings of Cherubims to climb.
O'er-looking Heav'n's wide Vales and spacious Plains
It stands, and unmolested Peace maintains.
Here the Almighty's bright Tribunal stands,
Whence his Decrees are sent, and high Commands.
Hence he gives Laws to all the Worlds below,
And hence eternal Right and Justice flow.
Hence Punishments proceed, and just Rewards,
Hence Orders come to all th' Angelick Guards,
To keep the Peace of Heav'n, and next secure
On Earth th' afflicted, from th' Oppressor's Power.
And now the Thrones and Pow'rs the Vally fill,
And stand adoring round the sacred Hill.
Adam's Rebellion they had newly heard,
And God's fierce Wrath in dreadful Signs appear'd.
Lightnings and Thunders issue from his Throne,
Lightnings scarce heard of, Thunder seldom known
Tremendous Murmurs, and a mighty Sound
Of wondrous Ruine from the Hill rebound.
[Page 51]T' express incens'd Omnipotence conspire
Whirlwinds, thick Darkness and consuming Fire,
United Terrors, that with Fury broke
From the blest Mount, whence thus th' Almighty spoke.
The Man I made, and with my Image grac'd,
And next to your Angelick Order plac'd,
Revolting to th' Apostate Prince of Hell,
Against my Throne has yielded to Rebel.
The Death I threaten'd, now I must inflict;
So Justice bids, nor is its Rule too strict.
You're here from all the Regions of the Sky,
To hear the Rebel doom'd, and see him Dye.
He spake, and thro' all Heav'n a Terror strook,
The Sphears, and all the Frame of Nature shook.
The Moon grew Pale, the Sun all Dim appear'd,
And all the Sons of God stood Mute, and fear'd.
Th' Almighty his Vindictive Arm makes bare,
Stretch'd out his Hand, and did for Death prepare.
Mercy Shreek'd out, and trembling on her Face
Fell down, and did with Tears his Feet Embrace,
Offspring Divine, in Heav'n the most belov'd,
By whom ev'n Fate unchangeable is mov'd.
Her Looks so moving, such Celestial Grace,
So mild, and sweet an Air dwell on her Face,
So tender and engaging all her Charms,
That oft th' Almighty's Fury she disarms.
Her Language melts Omnipotence, arrests
His Hand, and thence his Vengeful Lightning wrests.
Then thus she spake:
Shall the successful, sly Impostor boast,
That by his Power the new Creation's lost?
[Page 52]Shall he thus Triumph in his impious Deed,
And all our Hopes defeat from
Adam's Seed?
Must this fair Race be lost, so lately made,
And Hell made Bold your Empire to invade?
Adam has sinn'd, and Heav'n's high Grace abus'd,
But sinn'd betray'd, and by Hell's Fraud seduc'd.
Can't Wisdom Infinite, Expedients find,
To punish Guilt, and yet preserve Mankind?
Compassion, with stern Justice mixt, will draw
Honour to Heav'n's just Government, and Awe
All from offending the Establish'd Law.
At this, the Eternal Son rose from his Place,
The bright Effulgence of his Father's Face,
His fair and express Image, full of Grace.
In whom Divine, Substantial Glory dwelt,
And who Almighty Life and Vigour felt.
Th' Essential Wisdom, th' Everlasting Word,
The Universal Heir, and Soveraign Lord.
And thus he Silence broke, mine be the Task
To do what Justice and Compassion ask.
To rescue Man, my self will Man become,
Assuming Substance from a Virgin's Womb.
A willing Sacrifice, I'll Death Embrace,
Justice t' attone, and Ransom
Adam's Race.
The Father straight assented, Mercy smil'd,
To see the Serpent of his Prey beguil'd.
Justice well pleas'd, accepts the offer'd Price,
And Heav'n's aton'd by its own Sacrifice.
The Heav'n's with loud rebounding Shouts did ring,
And the glad Angels in new Anthems sing,
The Intercessor, and mysterious King.
[Page 53]The rolling Years their Circles fill apace,
And well-breath'd Time runs its appointed Race.
Till it brought on the Hour when all should see,
The Son make good to Man, his blest Decree.
That our expected Hope might be enjoy'd,
Divinity appears with Man alloy'd.
His Native Glory darts destructive Light,
And bright Oppression pours on Mortal's Sight;
He therefore draws a humane Veil between,
That temper'd Lustre might not Kill, when seen.
Here two Extreams of distance infinite,
In one ineffable, mysterious Knot unite.
God lives conceal'd, within a Mould of Clay,
And does in Dust himself, and's Glory lay.
He that in all th' expanded Skies wants room,
Lies now encompass'd with a Virgins Womb.
Immensity is wrapt in Swadling Bands,
The Prince by whom the World's wide Fabrick stands,
Supported in his Mother's Arms we see;
And vast Eternity begins to be.
He leaves his Starry Seat, and glitt'ring Crown,
And lays his dazling Robes of Glory down.
Then in an humble travelling Dress is seen
Seeking, as unknown Strangers do, an Inn.
Lord of the World, to whom proud Monarchs owe
Their Crowns and Scepters, he that does bestow
Honours and Wealth profusely on the Great,
Can't for his own Repose, find out a Seat,
But must from Men, to kinder Beasts, Retreat.
No other Court receives the new-born King,
That to debase himself, did choose to bring
No other Pomp, but naked Innocence;
Nothing for Ornament, or for Defence.
[Page 54]He that the Wants of all the World supplies,
Himself oppress'd with Pain and Hunger, Cries.
He Man's Assistance asks in vain, to whom
For Aid and Comfort all th' afflicted come.
Angels that did the Royal Stranger know,
The greatest Signs of Joy and Triumph show.
The Out-guards of their Camp saw marching round
Celestial Splendor rising from the Ground.
And gave th' alarm, the shining Squadrons fly
To th' Out-lines, and the Frontiers of the Sky:
To see the wond'rous Mediator Born,
Whom they Adore, though stupid
Hebrews Scorn.
Some with spread Wings shoot swiftly thro' the Air,
And to the Shepherds first the Tydings bear,
That a great Shepherd was at
Beth'lem Born,
Whose Deeds and Triumphs should that Name Adorn.
Tho' Angels Sing, obdurate Men are mute,
Nor will their Saviour, and their King Salute.
Yet some few famous Sages come from far,
Conducted by a brigter Morning Star,
Left all the Wealth and Wonders of the East,
To see a greater Sun rise in the West.
To find the Prince to
Herod they resort;
For where should Kings be found, but in a Court?
But the directing Star that led their Way,
Stands still, and points down with a streaming Ray,
To a mean Stable, where the Stranger lay.
Where they with humble Adoration View,
The Infant Intercessor, known to few.
Whom they present with Odoriferous Gums,
Choice Spices, and
Arabia's rich Perfumes.
[Page 55]The Sun of Righteousness begins to rise,
And Streaks with radiant Lines the Purple Skies.
Here did he from his healing Wings display,
The tender dawn of Everlasting Day.
Pale Terror through the Courts of Darkness flew,
And Hell's sad Regions doubled Sorrow shew.
Th' Infernal Spirits wandring in the Air,
As Thunder-struck, in Anger and Despair,
With Shreeks and hideous Yellings fly the Sight,
And the keen Horrour of the Heav'nly Light.
Like obscene Birds of Night, they hast away
And shun in Clefts and Caves the Rising Day.
The Prince of Darkness now begins to fear,
The Dissolution of his Empire's near.
Th' ambiguous Oracles with Fear struck Dumb
Proclaim'd by Silence, the
Messiah come.
Troubled and Sad th' Infernal Counsel sate,
Thoughful how best t' avert th' impending Fate.
Various Projections, deep Designs were laid,
How best the dreaded Foe they might invade.
They first the Fury Jealousie dispatch,
To
Herod's Court that might Occasion watch,
To kindle strong Suspicions in his Breast,
That th' Infant from him should his Scepter wrest
She did so well perform her Hellish Part,
Herod soon yielded to her subtle Art.
For while the Sages leave their Eastern home,
And to admire the wondrous Infant come.
Herod, afraid his ravish'd Crown to loose,
The Royal Infant's hated Life pursues.
What to pale Tyrants dreadful won't appear,
When Love and Innocence can move their Fear.
'Tis true,
A King he is, whose Empire's vast Extent,
Shall pass all Bounds, and last when Time is spent.
Submissive Monarchs shall their Scepters lay
Before his Feet, and his Just Laws Obey.
Kingdoms opprest shall his strong Aids invoke,
And thrust their Necks beneath his gentle Yoke.
The
Roman Eagles shall the Conqueror own,
And
Caesar Court him to Ascend his Throne.
Admir'd by all, he shall in Triumph go
Where fruitful
Nile, or fam'd
Hydaspes flow,
Uncheckt by
Africk Heats, or
Scythian Snow.
Nations invited by his Fame, shall come,
More than e'er made their Court to Conquering
Rome,
In splendid Embassies to sue for Peace,
And Worlds unknown his Empire shall increase.
The Earth shall banish'd Justice now regain,
And Love and Truth attend the happy Reign.
Soft Peace and Joy the chearful Earth shall Crown,
And Savage Beasts shall lay their Fierceness down.
The Lyon, Wolf, and Lamb, no more their Prey,
And little Infants shall Promiscuous play.
The years in Golden Harness smiling pass,
And keeping beauteous Order run their Race.
Nor shall his Kingdom cease, or Subjects dye,
For when Time finds its empty Channel dry,
And all its disappearing Streams shall Sleep,
Lost and engulph'd in vast Duration's Deep.
Then shall this King his full Dominion gain,
And in Eternal Peace, and Triumph Reign.
But 'tis not Worldly Empire he design'd,
His Scepter is his Grace, his Throne the Mind.
[Page 57]Kings unmolested may their Scepters sway,
And Peaceful Subjects without Strife obey.
They may unrivall'd, and unenvy'd reign,
And all their Pomp, and Regal State maintain.
The great Redeemer has his Court unseen,
And reigns in Light, and Heavenly Love within.
But from the false Usurper's Cruelty
Officious Angels warn their Prince to fly.
He and his happy Parents leave their Home,
And all to
Egypt's safer Border's come.
Egypt, tho' for its Monsters famous grown,
Is now by trech'rous
Palestine out-done.
For here they find a more secure Abode,
Egypt once
Iacob sav'd, and now his God.
The wandring God returns, the Tyrant dead,
To rich
Iudea's Soil from whence he fled.
Where he begins his Kingdom to assert,
And his mirac'lous Virtue to exert.
The Blind receiv'd their Sight, their Feet the Lame,
And the Dumb spake to celebrate his Fame.
Loud Storms and Winds were husht at his Command,
And fierce wild Beasts did tame and harmless stand.
The wondring Dead arise, and hasty come,
Obsequious to his Call, from out their Tomb.
VVith fresh-created Fish and Loaves he fed
Th' admiring Crowd, that lay around him spread.
To the Decrepit he new Force appoints,
And with strong Nerves new-brac'd their wither'd Joynts.
His Breath oft cool'd fierce Feavers raging Flames,
And his sole VVord the deadly Poyson tames.
Round him in Crowds the sick and feeble throng,
The sick grow easie, and the feeble strong.
[Page 58]Fresh healing Vertue he diffus'd around,
And dying Men rose leaping from the ground.
The Languishing reviv'd, th' Afflicted cheer'd,
Took healthful Looks, and smil'd when he appear'd.
Demons at his Command vext Men forsake,
And to th' Infernal Caves and burning Lake,
Their hasty Flight with piercing Screeches take.
Such Miracles did his high Office prove,
And Universal Admiration move,
Of all the chiefest was his wondrous Love.
He whom rebellious Men might justly fear,
In all his chosen Terrors would appear,
With Military Pomp, and Trumpets Sound,
His shining Host of Cherubs pour'd around;
Arm'd with keen Lightning, and the sharpest Sword,
That all his Magazins of Wrath afford,
To lay all Wast before him, and Efface
All Footsteps of Apostate
Adam's Race,
He, unexampl'd Love! Attempts to win
Man from the Curse of Death, and Curse of Sin,
With Pity, more than that of Mothers Hearts,
With Mercy's Charms, and Love's perswasive Arts.
His high design was with his Heav'nly Light,
To chase away th' Impenetrable Night,
That cover'd this lost World, and re-inspire
Man's Frozen Breast with fresh Celestial Fire.
Th' Almighty's faded Image to repair,
That its bright Lines might shine distinct and fair.
To raise laps'd Minds to that high State of Love,
Of Light and Bliss, the Blest enjoy above.
To pull all bold Usurping Passions down,
And settle Reason in its ancient Throne.
[Page 59]To break Sins heavy Chains, its Slaves release,
And fix 'twixt Earth and Heav'n a lasting Peace.
The Jews amus'd with Worldly Empire's Charms,
Hoping some Monarch with Victorious Arms,
With
Roman Pomp and Grandeur would arise,
The great Redeemer's humble State despise.
Inspir'd from Hell, his Message they refuse,
Deride his Person, and his Deeds accuse.
He that Supplies on all in want bestow'd,
Feasting with Miracles the hungry Crowd:
Finds from th' obdurate Hebrew no relief,
But with the Twelve Companions of his Grief,
He walk'd on his Eternal Purpose bent,
Scatt'ring his Heav'nly Gifts where'er he went.
Yet did unwelcom through their Regions stray,
From those ungrateful Cities thrust away,
Whence he had Devils and Diseases cast,
Him, and his proffer'd Heav'n they from them chas'd.
At last his spotless Innocence traduc'd,
He stands before the
Roman Throne accus'd;
On
Caesar's King
Pilate in Judgment sits,
Condemns him, yet his Innocence acquits.
To please th' inexorable Jews he sheds
Blood, and Heav'n's dreadful Curses on their Heads.
That done, he wash'd his guilty Hands in vain,
The Blood he spilt, alone could Purge that Stain.
No Form of Cruelty his Foes omit,
They give sharp Stripes, and on his Face they Spit;
Which now adoring Angels blush to see,
Not for its Splendor, but Deformity.
To please united Cruelty and Scorn,
On's wounded Head they fix a Crown of Thorn.
[Page 60]They dress him in a Purple Robe, that gone,
His Blood with richer Purple dyes his own.
A Reed his Hand must for a Scepter sway,
Which with a Rod of Ir'n shall that Contempt repay.
They bow in Scorn before him, whilst he sate
A Pageant Prince, the mockery of State.
What various Shapes of Cruelty are shewn,
Under, and on his Cross he's made to groan.
And yet he bears a heavier Load within,
The pressure of the World's united Sin.
Stretcht on the cursed Tree his Body hangs,
Groaning its Life away in dying Pangs.
Forsaken both of Earth and Heav'n, his Breath
He wasted in the pains of lingring Death:
Whilst on his Soul the blackest Horrors dwell,
That feels the Pains, without the Guilt of Hell.
The Barb'rous Hebrews for whose sake he dy'd,
Stand by, and see their Sov'raign Crucify'd,
Without the slight Compassion of a Tear,
Scarce in the Crowd does one sad Face appear.
Their Insolence dares mock his dying Moans,
Sport with his Torments, and deride his Groans.
Though solid Rocks touch'd with Compassion rent,
The more obdurate Jew does not relent.
For Man he Dies, that Heav'n may be aton'd,
He dies, the Universe afflicted groan'd,
Heav'n's Everlasting Frame shook with the Fright,
And the scar'd Sun shrunk back, and hid his Light.
Thro' th' Earth's dark Vaults a shiv'ring Horror fled,
That whilst Convuls'd threw up th' awaken'd Dead.
Thin pallid Ghosts come sweeping o'er the Grass,
And howling Wolves Glare on them as they pass.
[Page 61]Hoarse Thunder Rolls in Subterranean Caves,
Chaos to hearken stills his Raging Waves.
Ev'n Hell gap'd horribly, such was the fright,
And thro' the Chasm let thro' prodigious Night.
Night that extinguish'd the Meridian Ray,
And with its gloomy Deluge choak'd the Day.
Sad Moans were heard, Shreeks, Howlings, Midnight Cries,
And Globes of Fire hung Blazing in the Skies.
A fierce Convulsion thro' the Temple went,
The Pillars trembled, and the Veil was Rent.
The Heav'n's and Earth both suffer'd when he dy'd,
As Nature's Self were with him Crucify'd.
Down by their Sides the silent Angels laid
Their Golden Harps, and neither Sung nor play'd;
Their drooping Wings, and Looks dejected show
Sadness, as much, as those blest Realms can know.
Thrice the swift Sun his radiant Chariot drove
O'er the blue Hills, and out-stretch'd Plains above.
As oft the Moon had shot her paler Light,
In silver Threads thro' the brown Vest of Night.
When the Reviving
Saviour leaves his Tomb,
And, as new-born, breaks from the Earth's dark Womb▪
The Chains of Death shook off, he from the Ground,
Do's with new Force,
Anteus like, rebound.
He comes in Triumph from the Conquer'd Grave,
And this blest proof of Resurrection gave.
Oft to his mournful Friends their Lord appear'd,
And their sad Minds with Heav'nly Pleasures cheer'd.
He then the Plan of his wise Kingdom laid,
Who should submit, and who should be obey'd.
To these he gave a Power to loose, and bind,
And with fixt Bounds that Sacred Power confin'd.
[Page 62]He set the Rights his Subjects should enjoy,
Which Princes must Protect, but not Annoy.
And by wise Laws fix all things that relate,
To the Support of his new founded State.
That done, pursu'd by their admiring Eyes,
Born on a shining Cloud he did arise,
In Heav'nly Pomp Triumphant thro' the Skys.
The Clouds dividing in Obsequious Haste,
Smil'd, yielded by his Glory, as he had pass'd.
Great
Michael, Raphael, and the rest that boast,
The chief Commands in the Celestial Host,
Great Princes, Thrones, and high Seraphick States,
With splendid Equipage pour'd from the Gates;
Sublime in high Celestial Chariots rode,
Far out of Heav'n, to meet th' ascending God.
The Pow'rs and high Dominions with their Train,
Shone glorious bright on all th' Etherial Plain.
On a fair Hill that the wide Vale commands,
The numberless, angelick Army stands.
Drawn up in shining Lines, and Warlike Bands.
The Trumpets all salute him passing by,
And in the Air display'd the Banners fly.
And now arriv'd at Heav'n's Eternal Gate,
Attended with his long Triumphal State,
The blest Inhabitants due Honours give,
And all in Arms their conquering Prince receive.
Dispos'd in glorious Ranks each Order shines,
And all the way the bright Militia Lines.
On's Chariot Wheels the thronging Cherubs hang,
With whose loud Shouts the Heav'n's high Arches rang.
Thus did he to th' Eternal's Palace ride
The Guards stood to their Arms on either Side.
[Page 63]Entring he took his Place, and Brightly shone
On the Right Hand of his great Father's Throne.
Where he shall our great Intercessor stay,
Till the last Summons to the Judgment Day.
He ceas'd, and
Hoel in his Arms embrac'd,
His God-like Friend, and cry'd, I'm highly grac'd
With this Divine Discourse, what Thanks to you,
Illustrious Prince, what Thanks to Heav'n are due?
Blest Peace came rolling on the raging Waves,
And your late Wreck, me and my Kingdom saves.
Kind Heav'n for me hath call'd forth Joy and Light,
From those fierce Storms, and that outrageous Night,
That forc'd your Vessels on th' Armoric Shore,
Your Loss I mourn, but Heav'n's Designs adore.
Long have I stray'd in gloomy Darkness lost,
Deep Gulphs, thick Woods, and trackless Mountains crost;
In endless Mazes, and in endless Night,
Without a Glimpse of Day, or Ray of Light.
The Gates of Light thrown open, you display
The first reviving Beams of Heav'nly Day.
Which darts across the Shades in shining Streaks,
And on my Mind in tender Dawning breaks.
How much I wish to see this Light Divine,
Rise to its Noon, and in full splendor shine?
You've open'd Heav'n's Eternal Springs, whence flow
Those sacred Rivulets which you bestow
On the parch'd Region of this barren Breast,
Now with pure Streams of living Waters blest.
I drink them in with Joy, but thirst for more,
And for this thankful, still more Aid implore.
He ceas'd, the Prince who to oblige him strove,
Thus spake, all Seasons offer'd I'll with Joy improve,
To give more Light, and kindle greater Love.
[Page 64]My Toil and Sufferings when review'd, will please,
Caus'd by the stormy Winds and angry Seas,
If I can thus assist your Heav'nly Course,
Thro' gloomy Night, thick Mists, and Tempests force,
Thro' all the Snares of Hell, till you attain
Th' Eternal Haven, where blest Spirits Reign.
Now to the Foot of Heav'n's steep Precipice,
Ready to plunge into the deep Abyss,
The Red-fac'd Sun had roll'd the sinking Day,
Shooting along the Plains a level Ray.
The loving Turtle to his Airy Nest,
Flies with his moaning Mate, to Coe, and rest.
The timorous Hare steals from the Brakes to Feed,
And from the Yoke the lab'ring Ox is freed.
With strutting Teats the Herds come lowing home,
And Beasts of Prey o'er Hills and Forrests Roam.
And now the Princes that had pass'd the Day
In various talk to
Conda came, to stay
Till the appearance of the Morning Ray.
NOW the Victorious Sun the Night invades,
Chasing from Hill to Hill, the flying Shades.
Up rose the Princes, and were soon prepar'd
To take their Way, attended with their Guard.
In the same Chariot friendly they abide,
And feeding grateful Conversation ride.
The British Captains, and th' Armorick Train,
On either Side their generous Coursers rein.
They past not far, when
Hoel thus addrest,
With pleasing Looks, his Pious, British Guest.
Your losty Subject now, brave Prince, resume,
How shall your Lord from Heav'n to Judgment come,
What follows, what precedes the general Doom?
The Briton then began.
Before the Son of God appears on high,
Prodigious Signs are seen thro' all the Sky.
New lighted Comets shake their Fiery Hair,
Or trail their flaming Trains along the Air.
Vast Circling Flakes of Fire the World amaze,
And intermixt, prodigious Meteors blaze.
The Sky shines terrible with Lightning's Flame.
And Thunder shakes the universal Frame.
Th' impetuous roar o'erturns Heav'n's lofty Towers
And starry Fragments fall in burning Showers,
[Page 66]Rent Clouds, pour Seas of raging Sulphur down,
Whose livid Flames th' extinguish'd Sun-beams drown
Cross the red Air the flaming Torrents fly,
Gushing from all the fiery Springs on high.
The melting Orbs, and Firmaments conspire,
To make up one Tempestuous Sea of Fire,
The glowing Sphears dissolve with Heat and all
In mighty Floods of liquid Crystal fall.
The lofty Digues gape wide, that stood around,
And from the dark Abyss did Nature bound;
Chaos came pouring thro' the hideous Crack,
And Nature's Ruins, and th' amazing Wreck
Of burning Worlds, by floating on his Waves:
Scarce its high Mounds th' Empyreal Region saves.
Heav'n's spacious Balls are on each other hurl'd,
Ruin with Ruin crush'd, and World o'erturn'd with World.
Confusion, Noise, and Horrour fill the Air,
The Earth, loud Cries, Distraction, and Despair.
Fierce Storms of raging Vapours, that aspire,
Mixt with hot Steams, from subterranean Fire,
That Lakes of Sulphur burning all beneath,
That kindled
Naphtha, and hot Metals Breath;
The Earth's grip'd Bowels with Convulsions rack,
And with loud Noise their trembling Prisons crack.
Imprison'd Thunder roars for wider room,
Proclaiming loud the World's approaching Doom.
The Globe distorted, burst, disjoynted, rent,
Gives to the burning Exhalations Vent.
Thro' gaping Clefts, the flaming Tempest flies,
And Hurricanes of Fire confound the Skies.
Great Cities, Mountains, Rocks, and shatter'd Hills,
Vast abrupt Tracks of Land, and sinking Isles,
Sap'd by the Flame, that underneath destroys;
Fall down with mighty Cracks, and dreadful Noise;
[Page 67]Prodigious Ruin filling all the Caves,
And dashing high the subterranean Waves.
Aetna, Vesuvius, and the fiery kind,
Their Flames within blown up with stormy Wind;
With dire Concussions, and loud roar complain
Of deadly Gripes, and fierce consuming pain.
The lab'ring Mounts Belch drossy Vomit out,
And throw their melted Bowels round about.
Broad Sheets of Flame, Pillars of Pitchy Smoak,
And glowing Stones, the Airy Region choak.
Down their scorcht Sides metallic Torrents flow,
And form a dismal, flaming Sea below.
The fiery Deluge rolls along the Ground,
Dreadful for Colour, horrible for Sound.
Huge Stones, and vast unmelted Cakes of Oar,
The thick, unweildy Tyde encumber more.
Horrour in Triumph, smear'd with Smoak and Blood,
Rides cross the Ridge of the Tremendous Flood.
It burns new Channels riding o'er the Plain,
And turns o'er Cities with its pond'rous Train.
Down to the Deep it rolls its massy Waves,
Outroars the Ocean, and its Waters braves.
Plung'd in the Seas it unextinguish'd lies,
And o'er the Waves the glowing Wedges rise.
Th' affrighted Seas the burning Horrour fly,
And the bare Shores beneath the Deluge Fry.
Into the Air th' exhaling Ocean goes,
Where Waters slept, a Lake of Sulphur glows.
All the hot Seeds, and hidden Stores of Fire,
From subterranean Prisons freed, conspire
With their bright Arms to lay all Nature wast,
And to the general Conflagration hast.
A fiery Chaos Reigns with lawless Power,
And unresisted Flames the World devour.
[Page 68]These Signs first giv'n, amidst the Starry Shears,
With all the Pomp of Heav'n the Judge appears.
Before his Chariot Wheels that roll on high,
Whirlwinds, and Clouds discharging Thunder fly,
And curling Lightnings run along the Sky.
Immortal Thrones, pour'd out from Heav'n's bright Gates,
Dominions, Powers, Seraphic Potentates,
Crown'd Saints, and Martyrs rang'd in glorious Rows,
Attend his Chariot, and his State compose.
The dazling Pomp stretches across the Sky,
From utmost East to West, and passing by
The Heav'nly Orbs, comes on descending flow,
Into the Airy Region here below.
O'er all the Sky, Heav'n's mighty Army shines,
And here it halts in deep embartel'd Lines.
In bright Celestial Armour Clad, they stand,
Their Swords of temper'd Flame drawn in their hand.
They mark a Camp of spacious Circuit out,
And cast up Crystal Ramparts round about.
On some fit Eminence, they raise on high
Their Lord's August Pavilion in the Sky.
His bright, sublime Tribunal here they place,
On which he sits, with awful, God-like Grace.
Such Flames of Fire, wheeling in Clouds of Smoak,
Issue from thence, as from Mount
Sinai broke.
Array'd with Majesty, and cloath'd with Light,
He Glory darts too fierce for Angels Sight.
In
Hallelujahs they his Greatness sing,
And the shook Sphears, with loud
Hosannahs Ring.
Thus on the Throne, the Saviour sits prepar'd,
To Judge the World, to punish and reward.
[Page 69]And now th' unnumber'd Armies ready stand,
Grasping revenging Firebrands in their Hand,
And only wait their Leader's high Command.
The Signal giv'n, a general Shout, shall shake
The Heav'n's around, greater than Armies make
Rushing to Battel, or was heard in
Rome,
When Conquering
Caesar came in Triumph home.
Their furious Arms, devouring Tempests throw
On all the guilty, trembling VVorld below.
They pour down mighty, fiery Cataracts,
Flaming Bitumen, and Sulphureous Lakes;
Red showers of fiery Arrows hissing fly,
And flashing Lightning flames around the Sky.
Fires from above, combin'd with Fires below,
O'er all the Earth in ruddy Torrents flow.
Vengeance Divine, wasts Nature's burning Store,
And drowns the Earth in Fire, all drown'd in Guilt before.
The Heat dissolves the Fabrick of the World,
The broken parts fall down, confusedly hurl'd:
Chaos restor'd does in wild Triumph reign,
And ruin'd Worlds his hideous Throne sustain.
Some great Archangel now springs forth on high,
And with the loudest Trumpet of the Sky,
Summons th' astonish'd, gazing World to come
To Judgment, and the Universal Doom.
The dreadful Noise shakes Heav'n's Etherial Mounds,
And in loud Ecchoes from the Sphears rebounds.
In Ecchoes terrible, and piercing Shrill,
That the low World with dire Amazement fill.
The guilty Fiends shreek out at these Alarms,
That in the Air fly thick in murmuring Swarms.
[Page 70]Their Prince himself trembles, and dares not stay,
But spreads his broad, dun Wings, and shoots away.
They sink confounded to th' Infernal Deep,
Or into Clefts, and hollow Mountains creep.
They find the fatal Hour's arriv'd at last,
That shall revenge their bold Rebellions past.
When to their Torments they shall be Restrain'd,
And lye beneath, on flaming Billows chain'd.
VVhen Hell no more its Pris'ners shall release,
And Sin's black Empire must for ever cease.
No less the dreadful Sound, and awful Sight,
Confound proud Tyrants, and their Guards affright.
What Horrour now distracts each guilty Soul,
In their sad Breasts, what Storms of Vengeance roll.
How will they bear this dismal Scene of Wo,
Where will they stay secure, or whither go?
Terrour, Distraction, Anguish, fierce Despair
Drink up their Vitals, and their Heart-strings tear.
Ten Thousand poison'd Darts strike thro' their Reins,
And wound them with unsufferable Pains.
The Vulture bred within their Bowels gnaws,
And Conscience gripes them with her Harpys Claws.
Such Wounds, such Stings, such Pangs must now be born,
Of everlasting Death, the sad Forlorn.
What strange Confusion in their Looks appears,
What wild Amazement, Guilt and deadly Fears.
What howling Lamentation, what dire Cries,
What doleful Shreeks, and Yellings fill the Skies?
Besides, the Trumpet shakes the trembling ground,
The startled Dead awaken at the Sound.
The Grave resigns its ancient Spoils, and all
Death's Adamantine Prisons burst, and fall.
[Page 71]The Souls that did their forc'd Departure mourn,
To the same Bodies with swift Flight return.
VVhose scatter'd Parts God calls together, they
To their appointed Meeting hast away.
The crowding Atoms re-unite apace,
All without tumult, know, and take their place.
Th' assembled Bones leap quick into their Frame,
And the warm Blood renews a brighter Flame.
The quicken'd Dust feels fresh and youthful Heats,
While its old Task, the beating Heart repeats.
The Eyes enliven'd with new Vital Light,
Open, admiting whence they had their sight.
The Veins too, twine their bloody Arms around
The Limbs, and with red, leaping Life abound.
Hard twisted Nerves new brace, and faster bind
The close knit Joynts, no more to be disjoyn'd.
Strong, new-spun Threds Immortal Muscles make,
That justly fixt, their ancient Figure take.
Brisk Spirits take their upper Seats, and dart
Thro' their known Channels thence, to every part.
The Men now draw their long forgotten Breath,
And striving break th' unweildy Chains of Death.
Victorious Life to every Grave resorts,
And rifles Death's unhospitable Courts.
Its Vigour thro' those dark Dominions spread,
From all their gloomy Mansions frees the Dead.
Now ripe Conceptions thro' the Earth abound,
And new sprung Men stand thick on all the ground.
The Sepulchers are quick, and every Tomb
Labours with Life, and grows a fruitful Womb.
But how the Dead are chang'd, their Bodies more
Unlike each other, than their Souls before!
[Page 72]How monstrous foul the guilty Dead arise,
Each struck with Horrour from his Neighbour flies!
How much deform'd they look, all stain'd with Sin,
Black and mis-shap'd without, but more within.
Ugly and Fiend-like, from their Graves they Crawl,
And on the ground, like bloated Vermin, sprawl.
And like them too, their Bodies have their Birth,
From putred Damps and Vapours in the Earth.
So Serpents that entangled lay asleep,
From out their Beds disturb'd, and waken'd creep.
They hiss, and cast their fiery Eyes around,
And with their loathsom Bellies mark the ground.
For flight their poisonous Volumes they display,
And urg'd with Fear and Anguish, hast away.
So this foul Brood are forc'd their Graves to leave,
And to the Ground their grov'ling Bellies cleave.
Earthy and Black, confin'd so long to Night,
They dread the Horrours of the chearful Light.
Amazing change! see, some of these were they,
Whose Heads were Crown'd, whose Hands did Scepters sway.
These did rich Purple, and fine Linnen wear,
And every Meal fed on delicious Fare.
That hideous Thing, that for a Covert seeks,
With hollow Eyes, fal'n Jaws, and ghastly Cheeks,
That monstrous Thing, was once, when kept with Care,
Proud of its Beauty, and look'd wondrous Fair.
Set off with all the Ornaments that please
The Eye, and pamper'd with Luxurious Ease.
But how the guilty Crowd, wreckt with Despair,
With dismal Cries fill all the Ecchoing Air;
When they the Trumpet's dreadful Summons hear,
And find the Universal Judgment near!
Back to their Graves, the ugly Monsters fly,
And in those Coverts would for ever ly.
[Page 73]They call aloud for Death, and wish they might
Melt to thin Air, be drown'd, and lost in Night.
But when Blest Minds their Bodies meet, no Pair
Can look more Beautiful, and charming Fair.
The happy Souls shoot swiftly thro' the Sky,
And to the Graves and Sepulchers they fly.
Where they their long forsaken Bodies greet,
Which, like old Friends, they with fresh Pleasure meet▪
Bodies, that seem, they are so Pure and Bright,
All thicken'd Glory, close compacted Light;
Purg'd and refin'd from all that's course and gross,
As melted Gold throws off the baser Dross.
Smiling they rise, such Charms, so sweet a Grace
They shew, as dwell not on a Mortal Face.
These rising Stars their Heav'nly Beams display,
Bright Harbingers of Everlasting Day.
Such Beauties, such mild Glories shall we see,
In the glad Spring of Immortality.
Yet these blest Sons of Light, that Angel-like,
Would mortal Eyes, with deadly Lustre strike,
Were those, that once their Excellence disguis'd,
Liv'd here oppress'd, and like their Lord, despis'd.
Welcom to them this long expected Hour,
Safe by their Judge's Favour, from his Power.
High Tides of Joy into their Bosoms run,
And Everlasting Life they feel begun.
This shall past Griefs in deep Oblivion drown,
Compleat their Triumphs, and their Virtues Crown.
These in the Spring, great Care and Toil bestow'd,
And water'd with their Tears, the Seed they sow'd.
The Harvest now their happy Hours employs,
In reaping Pleasures and Immortal Joys.
[Page 74]Bright Cherubims descending thro' the Air
To these blest Men with speedy Flight Repair,
Then to the gen'ral Doom aloft they fly,
And on their Wings convey them thro' the Sky.
In all the way encouraging their Charge,
Telling of all the Joys of Heav'n at large.
Plac'd in the Presence of their Lord they stand
In their appointed Seats, at his Right-hand.
VVhilst other Angels from the Deep of Hell,
Drive up the Fiends that in those Regions dwell.
VVith Swords of keenest Flame compelling some,
And dragging others to the gen'ral Doom.
In Anguish and Despair the yelling Fiends
Curse, Gnash, and Bite th' Eternal Chain that binds
So close, and strait, then turn their Heads away,
From the fierce Terrour of so bright a Day.
And impious Men in no less Horror fly
To all the Shades, and Coverts they descry.
Mountains and Rocks their fruitless Cries invite,
To fall, and hide them from the Judge's Sight.
For rise they must, and lose their vain Desire,
Caught up in Whirlwinds, and in Storms of Fire.
Before the Judge the Pris'ners stand in Sight,
And take the Left-hand, as the Just the Right.
Th' Eternal Books before the Judge are brought,
Where all Mens long forgotten Deeds are wrote.
And first are read the Vertues of the Just,
Their Zeal for Heav'n, their Courage, Hope, and Trust.
The Prayers, the Tears, the Alms themselves conceal'd,
Before applauding Angels are reveal'd.
The righteous Judge their Innocence declar'd,
Allots the glorious Kingdom he prepar'd
For pure and holy Minds a blest Reward.
[Page 75]Their Guardian Angels at their Lord's Command,
Crown the glad Saints with an Officious Hand.
Who now in perfect Bliss their time employ
Discoursing, to promote their mutual Joy,
How first they left the pleasurable way,
Where wanton Streams of soft Delights convey
Charm'd Souls, that with the treach'rous Tyde must go,
To the dead Lake of Pain and endless VVo.
How first they lik'd the dark and lonesom Road
That leads to Bliss, and the blest Minds Abode.
How when in Shades they mourn'd, a Heav'nly Ray
Darted a welcome, tho imperfect Day.
How Vertue's guidance they implor'd and gain'd,
And what blest Converse with her they maintain'd.
How thro' dark Paths she did their Feet conduct,
Correct the wanderers, and the rest instruct.
How by her Aids they bore tempestuous Shocks,
Climb'd o'er opposing Hills, and hanging Rocks.
Till they at length the Peaceful Realms did gain,
VVhere Joys Divine, and endless Transports Reign.
How sweet and fair Crown'd Innocence appears,
No more tost on the VVaves of Hopes and Fears?
On mortal Face such Beauties never shone,
Like those of Virtue, seated on her Throne.
Next this, th' Apostate Angels are accus'd,
That open Force, or secret Arts they us'd
To set their Leader on th' Eternal's Throne,
Subvert Christ's Empire, and advance their own.
That Man by them seduc'd, did first Rebel,
Relinquish'd Heav'n, and to their Party fell.
That they the curst Defection did support,
And new Born Men, to new Rebellions Court.
Fresh Heats fomented, and renew'd the War.
Whence Plagues and Desolation wide, and vast,
And uncontroll'd Destruction laid all wast.
Hence
Noah's universal Deluge came,
And hence the World lies now o'erwhelm'd in Flame.
For these black Crimes they're sentenc'd to the pains,
Of fiercer Fire, and doom'd to heavier Chains.
Next
Cain's Rebellious Offspring are accus'd,
As Heav'n's inveterate Foes, that long abus'd
Goodness Divine, whom Everlasting Love
And Life Eternal, had no Charms to move.
They would no reconciling Terms embrace,
Alike by Threats unchang'd, or Acts of Grace.
They did with Wine and Noise the Method find,
To Calm a Conscious, self-revenging Mind.
To lay asleep th' uneasie Judge within,
Till they with Care and Pains, grew bold in Sin.
For when the sacred Spirit did convey
Into their Breasts, a secret Heav'nly Ray,
That did, where cherish'd, soon bring on the Day:
With hasty Care they choak'd the new sprung Light,
Calling to Aid the Shades of Hell, and Night.
Divine Compassion's Force they never felt,
Nor would in Flames of Love Eternal melt.
Their Hearts untouch'd did all Heav'n's strokes repel,
Temper'd, and harden'd in the Forge of Hell.
No Overtures of Peace, no Offers made,
Tho' of an endless Kingdom, could perswade
The unrelenting Rebels to lay down
Their impious Arms, to take a Heav'nly Crown.
They still asserted with their latest Breath,
Their fixt Confed'racy with Hell, and Death.
[Page 77]'Tis on them charg'd, that others too that fell,
Drawn by their Arts, embark'd for Death and Hell.
They led them to the flowry Banks, and show'd
The flatt'ring Tide, where smiling Pleasures flow'd.
Where the charm'd Voyagers did careless ride,
Bewitching
Syren's singing on their side.
Till the false Flood betray'd them thither, where
It falls into the Gulph of black Despair.
Here secret Crimes are publish'd, and his Name
That lov'd the Sin, but fear'd th' attendant Shame.
The sly Adulterer, that til the late
Approach of Night, and silent Shades did wait,
For the Caresses of the Harlot's Fed,
And at the early dawn of Twilight fled;
Is here upbraided for his careful flight
Of Mens, whilst he contemn'd th' Almighty's sight.
Th' audacious Wretch that did Heav'n's Laws deride,
And all its Thunder and dire Threats defy'd;
That did cloy'd Nature to fresh Guilt excite,
Beyond her own ev'n Vicious Appetite:
Anti-Platonic that could pleasure take
In naked Vice, and sinn'd for sinning's sake;
That could abstracted from Enjoyment, sport
With Guilt, and Vice ev'n in Idea court.
That did himself, so much he lov'd the Fame,
The secret Triumphs of his Lusts proclaim,
Strives in the Crowd to hide his guilty Head,
Whilst his high Charge, and black Indictment's read.
Th' astonish'd Wretch Sinks, Trembles, Dies to see
Enrag'd Omnipotence, and frowning Majesty.
Such deadly Torments on his Bowels feed,
Such Agonies he feels, as far exceed
[Page 78]All Shapes of Horrour, Mortals ever saw,
Poets invent, or troubl'd Fancies draw.
That there's a God, he gives a full Assent,
On the most sure, but saddest Argument.
He can his Being, and his Power attest,
From the Almighty Vengeance in his Breast.
Thus he at last believes, and trembles too,
On the same grounds that tortur'd Spirits do.
The Droll'ry that derided Heav'n's just Cause,
He hears repeated, but without Applause.
His Jests and bold Discourses will not fit
This place, nor pass, ev'n with his Friends, for Wit.
Will he his feeble Arguments produce,
And make them here, renew their former Use?
Will he assert his Innocence, and plead
'Twas only harmless Nature he obey'd?
That he to Vice did not his Mind enslave,
But only pleas'd the Appetites Heav'n gave.
Will he inform the Judge, it cannot be
A Being Good, and Merciful, as He,
Can so much Rigour to his Errors show,
And make a Creature for Eternal Wo?
The Wretch's bold Objections will appear,
His wanton Fancy's wild Capriches here.
Able no more to stifle with their Night,
The Natural Dictates of his inbred Light.
They can't the deadly Stings within controul,
Nor ease the Horrors of his tortur'd Soul.
And now less hardy Pris'ners are Arraign'd,
That had not this obdurate temper gain'd.
Of such a Pendulous, Distracted Mind,
That oft to Heav'n, and oft to Hell inclin'd.
[Page 79]To make up Peace, they would with neither part,
But shar'd between them a divided Heart.
These travell'd on so long the happy Way,
That leads to Life, and pure Etherial Day:
Till they reach'd Heav'n's bright Confines, could descry
The Peaceful World of Immortality.
But then discourag'd at the steep Ascent,
And the strait Gate, thro' which the Trav'llers went,
Gave back, and did of their past Toil repent.
But how they now abhor the Cowardize,
That made them almost Conquerors, miss the Prize:
Made them desert a prosperous Cause as lost,
That could so many Spoils, and Triumphs boast.
Curst Sloth, that could perswade them to forsake
Christ's Camp, when such a Kingdom was at Stake.
Each hears his aggravated Crimes at large,
Devils accuse, and Conscience backs the Charge.
They can't excuse, or hide their Crimes, nor fly,
Nor what's the Refuge of the wretched, dy.
Now let their past Enjoyments Succour give,
Let Wit, and Wine their deadly Fears relieve.
Let their dear Riches their Assistance lend,
Honour and Pomp th' ambitious Man defend.
Let them solicite with their loudest Cries,
Those Gods, they serv'd, to save their Votaries.
Blest Heav'n, that Man with such a swift Career,
Pursues those Toys, that are so useless here.
The Judge will all his Terrors now assume,
And thus pronounce the Pris'ners dreadful Doom.
For ever cursed Souls from me depart,
As you did oft my Cause, I you desert.
[Page 80]Go, burn in Everlasting Fire prepar'd
For Devils, take that sad, but just Reward.
Sink to the Bottomless Abyss of Hell,
Where Agonies, and endless Sorrow dwell.
Go to those Mansions of Despair, and lie
In never ceasing Torments, go, and die.
The Rebels this expected Sentence past,
With Thunder and Tempestuous Fire are chas'd,
To Hell's black Gulph, thro' all th' Etherial Wast.
Where they shall see no chearful Ray of Light,
Doom'd to the Horrours of Eternal Night.
Th' Almighty's Arrows Fester in their Heart,
Drink up their Blood, and gall with deadly Smart.
His Wrath consumes the wretch, his Power sustains,
And like fierce Poison o'er their Vitals, Reigns.
They wast their Souls in Cries, and howling Moans,
And spend Eternity in fruitless Groans.
Now the abstrusest Paths of Providence,
That gave the wisest Men so great Offence,
Are so unriddl'd, and made easie here;
The Night dispell'd, they shine as Noon-day, clear.
Justice that did till now her Graces shrowd,
And walk'd on Earth, encircled with a Cloud;
That did such by, and uncouth Ways frequent,
Perplex'd with Windings, frightful for Ascent;
See this bright Goddess to her Throne restor'd,
Unveils her Majesty to be ador'd.
Her Cloud thrown off, her Form is all Divine,
No Lustre now, her Glory can out-shine.
Such are the Beauties of her Charming Face,
Fair Mercy's Self, looks not with sweeter Grace.
[Page 81]Rivals no longer, they are here combin'd,
And in so strict a Bond of Friendship joyn'd;
They seem distinguish'd only by their Name,
Their Charms alike, their Votaries the same,
And both are Worship'd with an equal Flame.
Justice to all in such due measures shown,
The Judge returns to his Celestial Throne.
And as he goes, crown'd Saints, and Seraphs sing
Loud Songs of Praise to their Triumphant King.
He enters Heav'n attended with his Train,
That in the new
Ierusalem shall Reign.
The City stands on pure expanded Fields
Of rising
Ether, that wide Prospect yields
O'er all the Gulph, and outstretcht Vales below,
O'er all th' Inferiour, spacious Orbs can show.
The Walls are Marble of the richest Vein,
And their high Towers o'erlook the Azure Plain.
Of polish'd Gold the glorious Structures rise,
With gilded Spires, and Turrets in the Skies.
From Heav'nly Quarries on their Front appear
Rich Stones, like Winter Stars, but far more clear.
Immortal Rubies, Diamonds, Saphirs meet,
In beauteous Mixture, and bright Orders set
Rare Works, where Cost immense, and Art combine,
Built and adorn'd by th' Architect Divine,
To be for holy Minds a blest Abode,
Th' Imperial Seat, and Residence of God.
The Streets are all of fine, Etherial Glass,
Pure, like the spotless Minds, that thro' them pass.
Thro' these Eternal, living Rivers flow,
Trees on their Banks, in goodly Ranges grow,
That with their golden Fruit, immortal Health bestow.
[Page 82]Twelve Gates of Orient Pearl unshaken stand,
Shut, and unbarr'd by the Almighty's Hand.
A Steepy Gulph is plac'd beneath the Walls,
And down as low as Hell's Abyss, it falls;
Lest Hostile Fiends should leave their burning Lake,
And bold Excursions to these Regions make.
The Air's Serene, and fit for happy Minds,
Secure from Thunder, and th' Assaults of Winds.
No Clouds, but those of curling Incense rise,
By playing
Zephirs tost about the Skies;
That with their gentle Breath sweet Odours blow,
That from Blest Woods, and Heav'nly Gardens flow.
No noxious Damps, the Region's so sublime,
From Hell's Infernal Caves, can hither Climb.
No foul terrestrial Steams pollute the Air,
No Breaths ascend, but those of Praise, and Prayer.
Essential Glory from th' Almighty's Face,
With its resplendent Efflux, lights the Place.
All Heav'n's fair Orbs, thin'd and beat out in Light,
Would not spread out a Day, so pure and bright,
As that, the Saints Illustrious Order sheds,
From the encircling Glory round their Heads.
The vanquish'd Sun would there seem Dark, his Light
Whence our course Day proceeds, would there make Night.
So Glorious are the Dwellings of the Saints,
Outdone by nothing, but th' Inhabitants.
On lofty Thrones the Heav'nly Princes sit,
In Robes as white, as new fall'n Snow, and writ
In Golden Characters, their Foreheads bear
Their Saviour's Name, their Breasts his Image wear.
Immortal Vigour shines on every Face,
They look with Mild, but with Majestick Grace.
[Page 83]Thick Beams of Light stream out from every Head,
Each Saint does his own Heav'n about him spread,
His radiant Feet on pointed Glory tread.
Safe on the Shore with Pleasure they behold,
How the thick Waves are on each other rowl'd,
What Dangers of a strange amazing Shape,
What fatal Rocks, they scarcely did escape.
They hear the Winds grow loud and turbulent,
See Clouds swoln big, with Thunder in 'em pent,
With which the lowring Sky is over-cast,
Hang down upon the Seas that they have past.
Viewing these Woes themselves did once endure,
They stand surpriz'd, as if not yet secure.
Amaz'd at all the Glory they possess,
Wonder almost suspends their Happiness.
They on so sweet, and rich a Climate thrown,
Forget their Dangers, now for ever gone.
Th' Almighty they enjoy, at whose Right Hand
Fulness of Joy, and Life Eternal stand.
Down from his Throne, as Light does from the Sun,
Rivers of fresh Delight for ever run.
With ravish'd Eyes they drink in Heav'nly Beams,
That from his Face flow down in Glorious Streams.
They gaze so on the Beatifick Sight,
Till they become all Intellectual Light.
So long they his substantial Brightness view,
Till they all grow Divine, and God-like too.
So quick they feel the mighty Influx come,
The most Capacious, thirsty Souls want room.
They widen and extend themselves to hold
Those Floods of Joys, that to their Breasts are roll'd;
Till they a vast, unmeasur'd Bliss possess,
And strive beneath th' unweildy Happiness.
[Page 84]If but a Glimpse of Heav'n whose Glory streams
Thro' the thick Clouds in weak, refracted Beams,
Can please so much, what Joys have those above
Where perfect Knowledge kindles perfect Love?
Transports Ineffable their Minds employ
Delug'd in Glory, lost in Tides of Joy.
Here Innocence will all its Lustre show,
The mournful Looks thrown off, it wore below.
Sorrows for ever banish'd hence repair
To the low, Guilty Regions of the Air.
There no black Clouds of Discontent appear,
That spread themselves o'er these dark Vallies here.
No Groans are heard, no Tears fall down the Face,
To interrupt the Joy, of this blest Place.
No crossing Arms, or sad dejected Eyes,
Seek out the secret Corners of the Skies.
If Course, Terrestrial Pleasures, court the Sense
With such strong Charms, that few can make Defence,
When backward Nature's forc'd by Wit, and Art,
All her delicious Treasures to impart.
When the short Days in all Delights are spent,
That soft, Luxurious
Asia can invent.
What are the Nobler Pleasures, that transport
The blest that reign in this Celestial Court?
That no Decay, or Intermission know,
Debas'd, when liken'd to the best below.
The Clouds all broke, the Tempest chas'd away,
The Smiling Skies disclose a chearful Day.
They've changed the Defart's dry and barren Sand,
For all the Riches of a fruitful Land.
Where with Immortal Food they ever fed,
And drink pure Pleasures at the Fountain's Head.
[Page 85]Hatred, Distress, and Grief, are banish'd hence;
The sad Companions once, of Innocence.
No dying Martyrs Flames, or private Cries
Of Innocents opprest, disturb the Skies.
Here our Delights are mixt with base Allay,
We have at best but a Tempestuous Day.
Our Sweets are still attended with a Sting.
And great Enjoyments, greater Sorrows bring
Delights, those Beautiful, Illustrious play
Around us, and when grasp'd, they glide away.
Here tempting Joys, our fond Embraces fly,
Choice, Forraign Flowers, they only Blow, and Die.
They shew themselves, but will not with us dwell,
But, like hot Gleams, approaching Storms foretel.
Pure unmixt Pleasures on us never flow'd,
But Stream like watry Sun-beams, thro' a Cloud.
But those above, see no unlovely day,
Their Joys no mixture know, nor fear Decay.
In those blest Realms they know no thoughtful Care,
Ever to Triumph is th' Employment there.
There no Vicissitude of Day, and Night,
No Years, or Ages, measure Heav'n's Delight;
Time has quite finish'd, and gone thro' its Round,
It did their Grief, but can't their Pleasure Bound.
Its Streams here disembogued for ever ly
Lost in th' Abyss of Immortality.
They no sad fears of future Sorrows know,
Compleatly Happy, and for ever so.
For Ever!
We strive in vain to hold this Boundless Space;
Too wide and vast, for Mortals to Embrace.
Our Arms may clasp the Earth with greater Ease,
And spread themselves ashore round all the Seas.
[Page 86]When Ages have their widest Circle run,
Heav'n wears not, still its Joys are but begun.
The Heros here forget their toil and pain,
And in Eternal Peace, and Triumph reign.
No more the Scoffer mocks their pious Care,
As Native Dulness, and ungrounded Fear.
How different Fate he and the Impious Kind,
Chain'd in the dark Infernal Prisons, find?
Near the wild Deep where restless Atoms fight,
And th' unfrequented Coasts of ancient Night,
Where Nature ne'er on Pregnant Matter fate,
To hatch warm Life, and its straight Bounds dilate.
There stands the vast, unbottom'd Gulph of Hell,
Where Sin and Death, in all their Terrors dwell.
Beyond the Verge of Day, these Regions ly,
As low and black, as Heav'n is bright and high.
Horror, and Night hang dismal o'er the place,
And grisly Forms fill all the gloomy space.
Dead Seas of pond'rous Darkness lie around,
And the sad Realms from Light's grey Frontiers bound.
Darkness that blunts the sharpest pointed Ray,
And unannoy'd, repels th' Invading Day.
The sluggish Air is choak'd with soultry Gleams,
With poisonous Damps, and suffocating Steams;
That from wide Lakes of boiling Sulphur rise,
Laden with Groans, and Everlasting Cries.
No such malignant Breaths, such deadly Reeks,
The delving Miner that hid Treasure seeks,
E'er let out from a Subterranean Cell,
As those that break from the black mouth of Hell.
A fiery Sea burns fiercely all beneath,
Blown up, and kindled by th' Almighty's Breath.
[Page 87]In flaming Heaps the livid Ocean rolls,
And scalding Waves involve despairing Souls.
The boiling Floods terrific Colours shew,
Some deeply Red, and others faintly Blue.
These with the Shades contend, but can't dispel
The Darkness that surrounds the burning Cell.
Or if they do, they dart pale, dismal Light,
Worse than the Horrors of the blackest Night.
The troubled Whirlpool belches Burnings out,
And throws red Seas of Sulphur round about.
Columns of Smoke, with spiral Flames of Fire
Inwreatch'd, from wide-mouth'd Furnaces aspire.
Hence the black Region is annoy'd with Fumes,
Stench, Reeks, and Flame, that kills, but not consumes.
So when a Mount, hot with metallic Seeds,
In its rich Sides a secret Burning feeds;
Soultring within, it casts up Pitchy Smoke,
And the dead Air ascending Vapours choak.
In mighty Floods, the wide Volcano's throw
Their melted Treasures out, and overflow
With glowing Torrents all the Neighbouring ground,
That lies beneath a burning Deluge drown'd.
Thro' all the Air the liquid Riches fly,
And Floods of Fire dash thick against the Sky.
All Hope for ever banish'd flies this place,
And fixt Despair sits Pale on every Face.
Grief, Anguish, Terrour, Shame, Confusion here,
In Forms more terrible than Death, appear.
Here hateful Sin throws off its flatt'ring Charms,
And shews a Monster in the Sinner's Arms.
It now no more can please awaken'd Eyes,
Stript of stoln Beauties, and the fair Disguise
[Page 88]Of promis'd Good, it does it's self disclose
Its hideous Shape, and ghastly Visage shows.
Th' affrighted sinner seeing, faign would fly
Th' Embraces of such foul Deformity.
He would forget their past Endearments now,
And from the Monster strives in hast to go.
But 'twill not be; those Friends on Earth must dwell
For ever, sad Companions too, in Hell.
This fiery Gulph, was as their just reward,
For
Lucifer, and his black Host prepar'd;
Where now the Fiends, once fairest Sons of Light,
Lye plung'd in Flame, chain'd in Eternal Night.
These wretched Minds, once pure and free from Stain,
In the brightest Palaces of Heav'n did Reign.
Array'd with dazling Brightness, there they dwelt,
Blest with their great Creator's sight, and felt
The beaming Influx breaking from his Face,
And shar'd the Pleasures of that Blissful Place.
Till with the task of blest Obedience tir'd,
They to th' Eternal's Sacred Throne aspir'd.
Incens'd with such ambitious Aims, their Lord
Strikes thro' the Rebels with his flaming Sword.
Headlong he casts them from the Seats above,
No longer now, the Creatures of his Love.
Flaming, and Thunder-struck, the Traytors fell,
And sunk down to the fiery Jaws of Hell.
As when strong rising Flames Resistance find,
Beat downwards, by a fierce, impetuous Wind.
The liquid Pyramids with labour bend
Their tops, and sink still struggling to ascend.
So did these Beings of a Heav'nly Race,
Fall from the Regions of their Native Place.
[Page 89]Still working up, they sunk in Pain and Toil,
For downwards thrown, their Natures still recoil.
So difficult's an
Angel's Fall, and thus
Sinking's to them, what rising is to us.
But who has Strength t'oppose th'
Almighty's Hand,
Who can against his deadly Terrours stand?
He with a single Word, an angry Frown,
Subdu'd this Host, and cast them headlong down.
Confounded, and amaz'd they sink, and all
Heav'n's Plagues, and Wrath, pursu'd them in their Fall.
Here they must lie far from the Coasts of Bliss,
Chain'd in the Dungeons of the dark Abyss.
Where now they feel what Guilt's Demerits are,
Weltring in Fire, and tortur'd with Despair.
How much they curse the sad Exchange, black
Night,
And endless
Death, for Heav'nly
Ioy and
Light.
Sunk deep in liquid Fire they list their Eyes,
Red both with Heat and Anguish, to the Skies.
Then rave aloud, to think what Joys they've lost,
To think how dear their bold Rebellion cost.
Nor is the Change of these two Dwellings such,
So great, but they themselves, are chang'd as much.
See how deform'd they are, to what before,
Stript of the Glory that in Heav'n they wore.
How much they look too like their guilty State,
How foul, and how unlike themselves of late.
Such fatal Changes one bold Crime can make,
Heav'n's lost, nay more left for a burning Lake.
Man's Crime th' Infernal Gates did open lay,
And rais'd, and pav'd, a broad and easie Way;
Leading a-cross the Gulph from Earth to Hell,
Where now, lost
Men, with impious
Spirits dwell.
[Page 90]A Way that's throng'd with mighty Crowds of those,
That for Delight and Ease, this Passage chose.
In Sports and Mirth they journey on, and find
All the Delights that please a Vicious Mind.
The Way's so wondrous smooth, so prone and broad,
They rather fall, than travel down this Road.
But how surprizing is their Journey's End,
To what dire Seats does this smooth Passage tend?
Down to th' Infernal Gulph they sporting glide,
Born on enchanting Pleasures wanton Tyde.
A sad Exchange they meet, outrageous Seas
Of Sulphurous Fire, for Luxury and Ease.
In Darkness chain'd, on flaming Billows tost,
Too late they find themselves for ever lost,
Hopeless they rave, and Curse the easie Way,
That did their Feet to these sad Realms betray.
Hither the
damn'd, the final Sentence past,
With Cherubs bright, revenging Swords are chas'd.
Pursu'd with everlasting Wrath, they take
Their woful Refuge, in the burning Lake.
Transfixt on unextinguish'd Fire they ly,
Burn without Wast, without expiring dy.
Those Agonies, those Terrours here they know,
That from a self-revenging Conscience flow.
Grip'd with the sad Remembrance of their Sin,
They feel the
Stygian Viper gnaw within.
With deadly Stings, th'
Almighty wounds their Hearts,
And in their Breasts sticks deep his Fiery Darts.
Along their Veins tempestuous Vengeance rolls,
Pouring Despair, and Horrour on their Souls.
Who can with everlasting Burnings dwell,
And bear the Guilt, and Punishment of Hell?
[Page 91]What Strength or Courage can support the Load
Of Wrath inflicted by th' Almighty God?
Hear how the Damn'd devour'd with Plagues, begin
To Curse aloud their Judge, Themselves, their Sin.
Transported with their Anguish, Grief, and Shame,
They gnash their Teeth, and bite the raging Flame.
Then sunk in deep Despair, such Sighs they breath,
Such dismal Groans, that but to hear, is Death.
A secret Fire their Breasts, like
Aetna, feed,
And like that too, do their own Thunder breed.
Their Hellish Nature its own punishment,
Is a worse Plague, than Furies can invent.
Their Lusts, like Vultures, tear their inward parts,
And never-ceasing Torments, rend their Hearts.
Their vicious Appetites, not yet destroy'd,
Still crave the Pleasures, they on Earth enjoy'd.
Though those are gone, the fierce, untam'd Desire
Remains, and burns worse than their Lake of Fire.
But what's the most afflicting Plague of Hell,
With all these Woes, they must for ever dwell.
For Ever! fatal State, for Ever! who
Can bear the Doom of Everlasting Wo?
What deadly Pangs, what fierce Convulsions rend
Their Breasts, who know their Pains shall never end.
How the despairing Damn'd cry out, is this
The place we chose, instead of Heav'nly Bliss?
Is this black Prison, these tormenting Chains,
This Lake of Fire, and these Eternal Pains,
The dismal Recompence our Crimes afford,
And must we thus curst, tortur'd, and abhor'd,
In these consuming Flames, these Torments ly,
To all the Ages of Eternity?
[Page 92]Curst be the fatal Crimes, that we obey'd,
That stole our Hearts, and have our Lives betray'd.
Curst be the transient false Delights that shew'd
The Charms, that we so greedily pursu'd;
Till down the steepy Precipice, we fell
Into this deep Abyss of Death, and Hell;
Curst be the treacherous Joys, that leave us now
Doom'd to Despair, lost in Eternal Wo.
He ended,
Hoel highly pleas'd, exprest
The grateful Sense, that fill'd his joyful Breast.
Methinks he cry'd,
I view th' Infernal Caves,
And see the damn'd float on the raging Waves
In the dire Lake, where flaming Brimstone rolls,
And hear the dismal Groans of tortur'd Souls.
Then looking up, I see the Blest above,
Dissolv'd in Raptures of Eternal Love.
I seem to view their bright, triumphant Throngs,
And hear their Harps, and sweet Harmonious Songs.
Then he the
Briton various questions asks,
Who with great Joy performs the pious Tasks,
He teaches sacred Myst'ries yet behind,
And stamps the Christian Image on his Mind.
IN such
divine Discourse, on things sublime,
The Royal
Pair with Pleasure pass'd their Time.
Now the day wears, the Sun-beams faintly bound,
And taller Shadows stretch along the ground.
Advanc'd, the rising Eminence they gain,
That gave full prospect o'er the fertile Plain,
Where the Imperial Seat of
Hoel stands,
And all the Soil and Towns around, commands.
Fair
Liger the
Armoric Region's Pride,
Does thro' the Vale in smooth Meanders glide,
And rolls his Silver Volumes by its side.
Here the
Nannetian Heroes did of old,
For Arms and Wisdom fam'd, the Scepter hold.
Arthur the Structures height, and Pomp admires,
The lofty Walls, strong Towers, and glitt'ring Spires.
He views the rich and fruitful Region round,
Where wanton Nature sate in pleasure crown'd,
Scattering with lavish Bounty on the Soil,
Riches and Joys, without the Owner's Toil.
To Martial Sports by thirst of Honour led,
The active Youth o'er all the Fields are spread.
Some of robuster Limbs advance their Name
In wrestling Rings, the fam'd
Olympick Game.
[Page 94]Some rein their manag'd
Steeds with manly grace,
Some swift in
running strain to win the Race.
Some hurling pond'rous
Balls their Fellows brave,
Some twang the
Bow, and some the
Colours wave.
But all desert their Games, and Warlike sport,
And round the Kings, run shouting to the Court.
Which was an ancient, stately
Pile, that stood
On the sweet Banks of
Liger's peaceful Flood.
Alighted here, th'
Armoric Prince exprest,
All signs of welcom to his Royal Guest.
He leads him to a fair and spacious Room,
Hung with rich Pieces, from the finest Loom.
Rare Workmanship, where fam'd
Sydonian Art
Did all her Force, and happy Strokes impart.
Each piece fresh Pleasure, and new Wonder feeds,
Fill'd with th'
Armoric Kings Heroick Deeds.
Their great Exploits in single Combate done;
The Towns they conquer'd, and the Fields they won.
Pleas'd with the Skill, aud Story,
Arthur stands,
And much of this, and much of that, demands.
Mean time, within a Supper they prepare,
With great Magnificence, and Regal Fare.
Strong, brawny Servants sweat, and panting strode,
O'erburden'd with the
Meats unweildy Load.
The Iv'ry
Tables groan beneath the weight
Of high pil'd
Dishes, all of massy Plate,
In decent Order set, and Princely State.
All things appear, that curious search can find,
Or in the
Finny, or the
Feather'd Kind:
That
Hills, or ransack'd
Forests can impart,
Profusely heap'd, set off with costly Art.
Of Polish'd Gold Capacious
Goblets shine,
With sparkling
Stones enrich'd, and sparkling
Wine.
[Page 95]Delicious
Fruit crown'd with fresh
Laurel stood
In lofty Pyramids, a golden Wood.
Great
Lights in silver Sconces plac'd on high,
Shine round the Room, and more than Day supply.
The
Kings both sate, the
Britons take their place,
The other side th'
Armoric Captains grace.
Chearful and highly pleas'd they Sit, and Eat,
And now the Art they praise, and now the Meat.
Choice
Instruments, some Strung, and some of Wind
Were heard, in sweet melodious Consort joyn'd
The lively
Hoboy, and the sweet-mouth'd
Flute,
The sprigtly
Violin, and warbling
Lute;
With the sonorous
Viol, mingling sound,
Soft Airs, and Heav'nly Harmony compound.
But that which
Arthur with most pleasure heard,
Were noble Strains, by
Mopas sung the Bard,
Who to his
Harp in lofty Verse began;
And thro' the secret Maze of
Nature ran.
He the great
Spirit sung, that all things fill'd,
That the tumultuous Waves of
Chaos still'd.
Whose
Nod dispos'd the jarring Seeds to Peace,
And made the Wars of hostile
Atomes cease.
All
Beings we in fruitful Nature find,
Proceeded from the great
Eternal Mind;
Streams of his unexhausted Spring of Power,
And cherish'd with his Influence, endure.
He spread the pure
Cerulean Fields on high,
And Arch'd the Chambers of the Vaulted Sky.
Which he, to suit their Glory with their height,
Adorn'd with
Globes, that reel, as drunk with Light.
His Hand directed all the rolling
Sphears,
He turn'd their
Orbs, and polish'd all the
Stars.
[Page 96]He fill'd the
Sun's vast Lamp with golden Light,
And bid the silver
Moon, adorn the Night.
He spread the Airy Ocean without Shores,
Where
Birds are wafted with their feather'd Oars.
Thro' the transparent Deep light
Vapours rise
From the warm Earth, and cloud the smiling Skies.
He sung how some chill'd in their Airy flight,
Fall scatter'd down in pearly Dew by Night.
How some rais'd higher, sit in secret Steams
On the reflected points of bounding Beams;
Till chill'd with Cold, they Shade th' Etherial Plain,
Then on the thirsty Earth descend in
Rain.
How some, whose parts a slight Contexture show,
Sink hov'ring thro' the Air, in fleecy
Snow.
How part is spun in silken Threads, and Clings
Entangled in the Grass in glewy Strings.
How others stampt to
Stones, with rushing sound
Fall from their Crystal
Quarries, to the ground.
How some are laid in Trains, that kindled fly
In harmless
Fires by Night, about the Sky.
How some in
Winds blow with impetuous Force,
And carry Ruin where they bend their Course.
While some conspire to form a gentle Breez,
To fan the Air, and play among the Trees.
How some enrag'd grow turbulent, and loud,
Pent in the Bowels of a frowning Cloud;
That cracks, as if the Axis of the World
Was broke, and Heav'n's bright Towers were downwards hurl'd.
He sung how Earth's wide
Ball at
Iove's Command,
Did in the midst on Airy Columns stand.
And how the Soul of
Plants, in Prison held,
And bound with sluggish Fetters lies conceal'd,
Till with the Spring's warm Beams almost releast
From the dull weight, with which it lay opprest,
[Page 97]Its Vigour spreads, and makes the teeming Earth
Heave up, and labour with the sprouting Birth:
The active Spirit freedom seeks in vain,
It only works and twists a stronger Chain.
Urging its Prison's sides to break away,
It makes that wider, where 'tis forc'd to stay.
Till having form'd its living House, it rears
Its Head, and in a tender
Plant appears.
Hence springs the
Oak, the Beauty of the Grove,
Whose stately Trunk, fierce Storms can scarcely move.
Hence grows the
Cedar, hence the swelling
Vine
Does round the
Elm its purple Clusters twine.
Hence painted
Flowers the smiling Gardens bless,
Both with their fragrant Scent, and gawdy Dress.
Hence the white
Lilly in full Beauty grows,
Hence the blue
Violet, and blushing
Rose.
He sung how
Sun-beams brood upon the Earth,
And in the
Glebe hatch such a numerous Birth.
Which way the genial warmth in Summer Storms,
Turns putrid Vapours, to a Bed of
Worms.
How
Rain transform'd by this prolifick Power,
Falls from the Clouds, an animated Shower.
He sung the
Embryo's growth within the Womb,
And how the Parts their various Shapes assume.
With what rare Art the wondrous Structure's wrought,
From one crude Mass to such Perfection brought,
That no part useless, none misplac'd we see,
None are forgot, and more would Monstrous be.
Such was the Splendor of King
Hoel's Feast,
Which ended,
Arthur straight retires to rest.
Hoel not so, but with the
Britons sate,
Asking of
Albion's past, and present State.
[Page 98]Much he inquires of their intestine Jars,
Much of the
Picts, and of the
Saxon Wars.
At last, requested
Lucius to relate,
Prince
Arthur's Story, and King
Uter's Fate.
Lucius began, the rest attentive wait.
How sad a task do your Commands impose,
That must renew unsufferable Woes?
That must our Grief with fresh Affliction feed,
And make your generous Heart with pity bleed.
Whilst I the dismal Scene of Ills disclose,
And bleeding
Albion's ghastly Wounds expose.
The cruel Foes in telling would relent,
And with their Tears, the Spoils they caus'd, lament.
Pity would
Picts and
Saxon Breasts invade,
And make them mourn, o'er the dire Wounds they made.
But since you're pleas'd to hear our Country's Fate,
I'll pay Obedience, and our Woes relate.
Great Empires, like their Founders, Mortal are,
And the sad marks of Age, and Sickness bear.
Their strong Foundations mouldring wear away,
And sap'd by Time's devouring Teeth, decay.
Triumphant
Rome, with Pomp and Grandeur crown'd,
Proudly survey'd the Conquer'd World around.
The Cold and Burning
Zone obey'd her Arms,
And either
Pole trembled at her Alarms.
Where Storms can beat, or angry Billows foam,
Where Sails can fly, or savage Beasts can roam,
Proud
Tyber's swelling Tide no Banks withstood,
That o'er the
Globe roll'd her Victorious Flood.
To so sublime a pitch of Power and Fame,
Rome's wise and valiant Sons advanc'd her Name.
[Page 99]Sons, that she bore when vigorous Youth did crown
Her Limbs with Beauty, and with Strength full grown.
Enervated with Age and Vice at last,
She found her Strength, and Youthful Vigour wast.
Decrepit grown, a puny wither'd Race
Feeble of Head and Arms, her Womb disgrace.
Of all her
Romans, Rome remains bereft,
Old Names alone, with modern Vices left.
The Noble
Scipios, and brave
Caesars gone,
A starv'ling Brood puts their great Titles on.
Her
Legions now can no new Triumphs sing,
Her molting
Eagles hang their sickly VVing.
To break her Yoke the
Provinces rebel,
Those she invaded, now she can't repel.
Fierce
Northern Storms chastise old
Tyber's Pride,
And to its Banks chase the retreating Tide;
Loud, foaming Torrents, from high
Scythian Hills,
From bleaky
Continents, and frozen
Isles,
In one vast Sea combin'd, come pouring down
And
Rome's fair Cities, and rich Valleys drown.
A barbarous Flood of
Vandals, Goths, and
Hunns,
Their Banks broke down, the Provinces o'er-runs.
As a tall
Oak that Young and Verdant, stood
Above the Grove, it self a Nobler VVood.
His wide extended Limbs the Forrest drown'd,
Shading its Trees, as much, as they, the Ground.
Young, murmuring Tempests in his Boughs are bred,
And gathering Clouds frown round his lofty Head.
Outrageous Thunder, stormy VVinds, and Rain
Discharge their Fury, on his Head, in vain.
Earthquakes below, and Light'ning from above
Rend not his Trunk, nor his fixt Root remove:
But then his Strength worn by destructive Age
He can no more his angry Foes engage,
[Page 100]He spreads to
Heav'n his naked, wither'd Arms
As Aid imploring, from invading Harms.
From his dishonour'd Head the slightest Storm
Can tear its Beauties, and his Limbs deform.
He rocks with every Wind, while on the ground
Dry Leaves, and broken Arms lye scatter'd round.
So
Rome decay'd.
Britannia's warlike Youth on this pretence,
Is call'd off from her own, to
Rome's defence.
Till the exhausted, weak, deserted Isle,
Tempted fierce Neighbours, to an easie Spoil.
Britannia of her Valiant Son's bereft,
Expos'd to every Ravisher is left.
The savage Foes, that did her Anger dread,
And from her Arms, to Wilds and Mountains fled,
Now leave the Coverts, where they sculking staid,
And roaring out, th' unguarded Land invade.
A cruel Rout of Northern
Scots, and
Picts,
The direful marks of barb'rous Rage inflicts.
Their Arms from Blood and Ravage never cease,
Where once they basely crouch'd, and fawn'd for Peace.
Wide Ruin, Desolation, Rapine, Spoil
Rage in the Bowels of th' unhappy Isle.
So Wolves, the faithful Mastiffs gone, grow bold,
And fiercely leap into th' unguarded Fold.
The trembling Flock they seise with eager Claws,
And tear their mangled Limbs with ravening Jaws.
Till they stand panting with th' uneasie load,
O'ercloy'd with Carnage, and opprest with Blood.
Britannia thus dishonour'd, spoil'd, distrest,
And by her proud, insulting Foes opprest,
Is forc'd of stronger Neighbours to implore
That Aid and Help, she us'd to lend before.
She dreads th' Expedient, that she's forc'd to try.
Hard fate of Princes, that to prop their State
Opprest and sinking, heap on greater weight!
Fatal Distemper, where we seek for Ease
From Drugs, more dangerous than the sharp Disease.
A VVarlike Race in
frozen Climates bred,
Leaving their
Wilds, by Valiant Captains led,
A fertile Soil, and milder Regions sought,
And won the happy Seats for which they fought.
Bold by Success, that waited on their Arms,
They still advanc'd in thick, Victorious Swarms.
Till Seas as wild, oppos'd their Torrent's Force,
And watry Banks restrain'd their rapid Course.
They stretcht their Seats along the
Belgian Coast,
No Soil, can more of Nature's Favour boast.
No Region's blest with more Indulgent Beams,
With fatter
Glebe, with more, or sweeter
Streams.
The Warlike
Saxons here their Empire reer'd,
With Plenty crown'd, and by their Neighbours fear'd.
King
Vortigern unable to oppose
The barb'rous
Picts, and fierce
Albanian Foes,
With humble Language, and rich Presents pray'd
This mighty Nation, to afford him Aid.
The
Saxon Princes with his prayer comply'd,
Britannia was too fair, to be deny'd.
As Friends they landed on our naked Coasts,
And still pour'd on their fresh, unnumber'd Hosts.
They chas'd indeed the barb'rous
Picts away,
But seiz'd, themselves, the
Kingdom as their Prey.
The
Lyon's Title to the Crown they plead,
As Friends receiv'd, as Conquerors obey'd.
[Page 102]No more let
States vext with Intestine Wars,
Call in great
Princes to compose their Jars.
What
Britons by their sad Deliverance won,
Was by a stronger Foe, to be undone.
'Tis true, opprest, they did their Wrongs resent,
But 'twas too late, their Counsels to repent.
Britannia's weak, precarious King obey
The proud
Protector's Arbitrary Sway.
Our Forts, and Navies, and the chief Commands,
Were, on Pretence of
Caution, in their Hands.
Th' insatiate Leeches do for ever crave,
And for their Service, ask us, all we have.
Our strength is spent, and barb'rous Avarice
Draws all our Wealth into her deep Abyss.
Rapine and Murder all our Cities fill,
Our haughty Friends take leave to Spoil and Kill.
These dire
Protectors arm'd with Lawless Power,
The
Plowman's Hopes, and
Merchant's Gains devour.
What we prepare, the ravenous Harpys eat,
And from our frighted Children tear their Meat.
We starve and dye, while they possess our Food,
Grow Sleek with Ease, and Fat with Spoil and Blood.
Villains dishonour
Virgins in our sight;
And bloody
Ruffians break our Doors by Night.
To seek redress, and of our wrongs complain,
Was but to add Derision to our Pain.
How bitter then were sad
Britannia's Moans,
What deep fetch'd Sighs were heard, what deadly Groans?
Betray'd and ruin'd by a treacherous Friend,
We saw the Error that we could not mend.
VVe curst our Folly, but we curst too late,
And all that our mistake should imitate.
We wish'd ten Thousands Woes and Plagues might light
On their curst Heads, that should again invite
[Page 103]
Victorious Kings, with
Forreign Arms to bless
Their
Native Country, and their Wrongs redress,
They'll readily assist your Cause, and fight
To do, to injur'd
States, and
Princes, Right.
But still they keep, what by their Arms, is won,
Great
Monarchs conquer for themselves alone.
They want a fair Pretente to seize the Prey,
They come as Friends, but will as Masters stay.
Thus
Albion far'd, may
Heav'n her Sons restrain,
From splitting on this fatal Rock again.
In vain we strove to break the servile Yoke,
Our impotent Attempts new Wrongs provoke.
At last, no greater Evils left to fear,
We took fresh
Hope, and Courage from Despair.
Fury from Ruin sprung rag'd in our Veins,
And
Death's seem'd lighter than the
Saxon Chains.
Each free-born
Briton thought the Choice more brave,
To die their
Victim, than to live their Slave.
We that could ne'er the
Tyrant's Yoke endure,
Boyl with Revenge, now Slaves to Forreign Power.
King
Uter's Breast swells with distracting Rage;
Whose wounded Soul, no Language could asswage.
Asham'd his Country's Freedom to out-live,
He takes the Councils, Grief and Fury give.
His
Knights together call'd attentive wait,
While
Uter sits on his high Chair of State.
His troubled Looks reveal'd his inward Wound,
And Storms of Fury on his Forehead frown'd.
Who thus began, you see what Tides of wo,
What angry Seas o'er all your Country flow.
Th' insulting
Saxon claims our Land, and draws
From greater power, the Justice of his Cause.
[Page 104]Thro' all our Towns our Foes triumphant ride,
Wearing their awful Title by their side.
They shed your
Blood, and helpless
Maids deflower,
Exhaust your
Treasure, and your
Land devour.
A faithless Nation, that no Rule of Right
Reveres as Sacred, but superiour Might.
We oft our Fate in bloody Fields have try'd,
But
Heav'n has Vict'ry, to our Arms deny'd.
Egyptian Plagues lay wast our ruin'd Land,
No
Moses here, holds his controlling Wand.
Humbly invok'd
Heav'n will perhaps relent,
And of its fierce, accustom'd wrath repent.
Perhaps the
Saxons Crimes with louder Cries,
For greater Vengeance importune the Skies.
Let us howe'er make one strong Effort more,
Our Country's Peace, and Freedom to restore.
We'll take the Field, 'twill gain us greater Fame,
To perish there, then here, with Grief and Shame.
My
British Heart can't brook th' Inglorious Chain,
I'll fall with
Honour, or with
Honour reign.
Tumultuous Passions,
Wrath, Revenge, and
Shame
Invade our Breasts, and our gall'd Souls inflame.
Strait, with one Voice we all for Arms declare,
And every Breast already feels the War.
Resolv'd to make the vanquish'd
Saxons fly,
Or in the just and brave Attempt to dy.
With Fury urg'd, we part from
Uter's sight,
Resolv'd for Freedom, and our Native Right.
Thro' all the Towns we spread the loud Alarm,
And animated all our Men to Arm,
To vindicate their ravish'd Country's cause,
To banish Forraign
Gods, and Forraign
Laws.
[Page 105]'Tis strange, how soon the
Britons Blood was fir'd,
What Life and Hope their drooping Hearts inspir'd.
They saw fair
Liberty extended ly,
The
Saxon Whips and Torments lying by.
They view her squallid Face, exhausted Veins,
And beauteous Limbs eat in, with rusty Chains.
They heard her mournful Groans, and piercing Cries,
Her interrupted Sobs, and dying Sighs.
They saw from gaping Wounds the gushing Blood
Enrich the Pavement, with a noble Flood.
While Pity, Mercy, Hope in Sorrow drown'd
To finish the sad Scene, stood weeping round.
The
Britons rave, resolving her defence,
And vow her Rescue at their Blood's expence.
In
Albion this fair Emp'ress still obey'd,
An uncontested Scepter ever sway'd.
As Universal Soul she Life diffus'd,
And Warmth to all the heaving Mass infus'd.
She ever gave to all true
Britons Hearts
More Vigour, than their own warm Blood imparts.
'Tis quick'ning
Liberty, that gives us Breath,
Her Absence more, than that of
Life, is
Death.
Such love to Liberty the
Britons show,
Such were her Charms, and may they still be so.
May never
Briton ceasing to be Brave,
Submit his Neck, content to be a Slave.
May those be doubly curst that would betray
Their Country's Freedom, to a Forraign Sway.
Our Men enrag'd, in numerous Bodies meet,
Arm, Arm, was heard the Cry in every Street:
The
Ploughman hastens to a nobler Toil,
Unyokes his
Ox, and leaves untill'd the Soil.
[Page 106]Abandons all his Hopes, and rustick Care,
Lays down his
Goad, and shakes the warlike
Spear.
The
Tradesman quits his
Shop, and takes the
Field,
And makes his thirst of
Gain, to thirst of
Honour yield.
Arm'd
Tenants crowd about their Valiant
Lords,
And full of Courage, wave their threat'ning Swords.
Near
Sorbiodunum's stately Walls, a Town
For Strength and Beauty, of the first Renown,
Whose spacious Plains rich Seas of waving
Corn,
And lowing
Herds, and woolly
Flocks adorn;
Our Universal Rendezvous was set,
Where all our Squadrons, and Battalions met.
Mean time the Cautious
Saxon was alarm'd,
And to dispel the gathering Tempest, arm'd.
Octa the famous
Hengist's Son, a bold
And warlike Prince, did then the Scepter hold.
Hengist that did the first our Land invade,
And brought to
Albion his destructive Aid.
The Fifth from mighty
Odin, whose great Name,
Had tir'd the flaggy Wings of weary Fame.
The Stock, from which a Race Illustrious springs
Of numerous Hero's, and Victorious Kings.
That founded
Empires, and that living led
Their Conquering
Armies, and their
God, when dead.
They soon the Hills by their long Marches gain,
And with their Troops o'erspread the spacious Plain.
We with their hasty March alarm'd, prepare
To guard our Camp, and wait th' approaching War.
Our Parties now in rude Rencounters try'd
Their Courage, still th' advantage on our side.
Th' advancing Host at last appear'd in sight,
But Toil and wearing Day, defer'd the Fight.
Now Night advancing, draws her Sable Train
Along the Air, and Shades th'
Etherial Plain.
King
Uter with his Lords in Council sate,
Things of th' important Juncture to debate.
Where Measures were concerted to oppose
With warlike Arts, and Force, th' impending Foes.
Their Provinces the great Commanders share,
And from the Council to their Posts repair.
Where they their Troops dispose, and Orders give,
How the Invading
Saxon to receive.
Encampt we lay on advantageous Ground,
With strong Entrenchments, and high Works around.
Our chearful Troops great Joy and Courage show,
And from the Works defy the powerful Foe.
All things dispos'd with Military Care,
We wait in Arms, th' approach of Day and War.
Now did the Morn disclose her smiling Ray,
And from the
East let forth th' important Day.
To bloody Labour all things did invite,
And sounding
Trumpets Martial Heat excite.
Heav'n's starry Roof resounds with warlike Noise,
With
Horses Thunder, and their
Riders Voice.
The
Saxons and the
Britons stand prepar'd,
Those to Attack, and these, their Posts to Guard.
King
Octa leads his numerous Army on,
And at their Head in dazling Armour shone.
Drawn on the Right our rang'd Battalions stood,
Our Left a River Guards, the Rear, a Wood.
Octa here makes his warlike Columns halt,
Detaching
Horsa to begin th' Assault.
Whose chosen Troops a furious Onset make,
With no less Brav'ry, ours sustain'd th' Attack.
[Page 108]They mount our Works, and our high Ramparts Scale,
And with projected Fires our Men Assail.
Our Troops unbroken stout Resistance make,
And always forc'd th' Invading
Saxon back.
As when a Mold repels th' Invading Seas,
Protects the Ships, and gives the Harbour Peace.
The foaming Tempest on high Billows rides,
And Storms with watty Troops, it's lofty Sides.
Th' unshaken Structure all their Fury braves,
And stops the Current of th' Insulting Waves,
The angry Seas break on th' Opposing Shore,
And beaten back with Indignation roar.
No less unmov'd our Valiant
Britons stood,
Against the Insults of the
Saxon Flood.
Fresh Bodies still pour'd on, their loss supply,
But still Repuls'd, they from our Trenches fly.
Enrag'd, about our Lines King
Octa flew,
To find where best he might th' Assault renew.
To see what place lay most expos'd, and where
Our Troops did on the Works but thin appear.
As when a
Wolf pinch'd by Nocturnal Cold,
And Hunger-starv'd, scours round the lofty Fold.
He licks his rabid Jaws, and seems possest
Already of his Prey, and bloody Feast.
He offers oft to enter, while the
Lambs
Affrighted, tremble round their bleating Dams.
So
Octa thirsts for Blood, and scouring round,
Surveys our Lines, and well observes the Ground.
Now with fresh Rage his Troops our Walls ascend,
Which we with Showers of Darts and Stones defend.
What
Shouts, what noise of
Arms the Air confound?
What
Ruin, what slain
Heaps deform the ground?
The Earth grows slippery all distain'd with Blood,
Which fills the Ditches with a Crimson Flood.
[Page 109]The
Dead make Bulwarks, which the living Climb,
That in the Air, rise like our Walls, sublime.
O'erpower'd and weaken'd by the Men they lost,
And Faint with Toil, the
Britons quit their Post.
Thrice the Invading
Saxon forc'd our Lines,
And to their Arms, thrice Victory inclines.
The Valiant
Uter that had still withstood
Their fiercest Troops, all smear'd with Dust and Blood.
Who still to Posts of greatest danger flew,
And with unerring Arms their Squadrons slew.
Who spread fresh Life and Vigour where he came,
And in our Breasts renew'd the Martial Flame.
For where we saw his shining Arms appear,
Our Men reviv'd, and straight forgot to fear;
Observing his disorder'd Troops retir'd,
His boiling Soul distracting Passion fir'd.
He spurs his furious Steed, and Thundring thro'
The thickest Ranks of the Victorious Foe,
Stay, foolish
Britons, stay, he cries from far,
Save yet your Country, and renew the War.
Come follow me your King, I'll lead you on,
And chase the
Saxons from the Posts they've won.
The
Britons Hearts were touch'd with generous shame,
Love to their
Country, and to Martial Fame,
With noble Ardor does their Souls inflame.
Their Leaders Rally all the Troops that fled,
And Charge the Foe, King
Uter at their Head.
With unresisted Fury they Attack
The
Saxon Troops, resolv'd to force them back.
Now what
Destruction, what wide
Ruin reign,
What heaps of slaughter'd
Saxons load the Plain?
Now arm'd with hissing Death thick
Arrows flew,
And outstretcht Arms as fatal
Iavelins threw.
[Page 110]Then what vast Havock did the
Sword employ?
What Troops did
Uter's single Hand destroy?
What sever'd
Limbs lay scatter'd on the ground,
What Streams of Blood gush from each ghastly wound,
What
Shields and
Spears in the red Deluge drown'd?
Here first brave
Arthur did his Courage prove,
His Age then fitter, for the Field of Love.
God-like his
Face, and God-like was his
Mind,
To virtuous Deeds, and warlike Games inclin'd.
The Down-of-Manhood on his Face appears,
And blooming Beauty grac'd his youthful years.
Yet wise and manly, far beyond his Age,
His early Deeds the Hero did presage.
Till now the Woods and Forrests were his Joy,
Where he the Savage Kind strove to destroy,
That did the Herds, and bleating Flocks annoy.
He chas'd the
Fox, the ravenous
Wolf and
Bear
His Country's
Pest, dy'd by his fatal
Spear.
The People blest him, as a Saviour sent,
And thought kind
Heav'n, some great
Deliv'rer meant.
He ne'er before had brac'd the
Helmet on,
Nor in the Field in polish'd
Armour shone.
His
Sword had ne'er been stain'd with humane Gore,
Nor had he grip'd the
Shield, or
Gauntlet wore
His Country's Cause, and Military Fame,
Invite the Youth to chase a nobler Game.
No more his thoughts his rural Sports pursue,
Tyrants and savage
Men he'll now subdue.
For warlike Toil he leaves the gameful Wood,
And flesht his Courage first in
Saxon Blood.
The greatest Captains the brave Youth esteem'd,
He fought like
Mars, though
Mercury he seem'd.
[Page 111]Like some fair
Cherub, or the
Beamy God,
He wav'd his flaming Sword, and thro' their Squadrons rode.
His youthful Veins Heroick Ardor fir'd,
And more than humane Force his Breast inspir'd,
For the great Deeds his fatal Arms archiev'd,
Were by th' amaz'd Spectators scarce believ'd.
At last amidst the Foe advanc'd too far
Alone he long sustain'd th' unequal War.
Surrounding Throngs the fainting Youth opprest,
And Showers of Death flew pointed at his Breast.
His weary Arm supports his
Shield with Pain,
And his bruis'd
Armour Streams of Blood distain.
Here the young Hero had been crush'd, and all
Our Hopes and Joy had perish'd in his Fall;
Had not brave
Malgo a
Dimetian Chief,
Forc'd the thick Foes, and flown to his Relief.
Then, when the warlike Youth was most distrest,
And
Elfrick's Sword was falling on his Crest
With dreadful Sway,
Malgo its Fury broke,
And on his Shield receiv'd the mighty Stroke.
The Prince thus guarded from the fatal Blow,
Bold
Malgo's Spear transfixt th' audacious Foe.
Groveling in Death he murmur'd on the Ground,
And pour'd his Life out, from his gaping Wound.
Here
Vortipor advancing did attack
Their plying Troops, and forc'd the Saxon back.
While
Octa's wavering Men began to yield,
And to pursuing
Uter quit the Field.
As when a
Lyon, that with Fury ran
To seise by Night, some weary Caravan,
That lay encampt on an
Arabian wild,
Repuls'd by Fires, and of his Prey beguil'd,
[Page 112]With hideous Roar he raves at his Defeat,
Oft stands, looks back, and makes a sour Retreat.
King
Octa's Soul like Indignation fir'd,
That raving with his vanquish'd Men retir'd.
But, oh, how soon was this serener Day
By Clouds, and rising Tempests chas'd away?
How short a space could we our Conquest boast,
How soon were all our Hopes of
Freedom lost?
Won by the potent Charms of
Saxon Gold,
Carvil his Prince, and Native Country sold.
He in Indulgent
Uter's Bosom lay,
And did the Secrets of his Breast betray.
He on his Conduct, and his Faith rely'd,
In Peace and War alike his treacherous Guide.
He held the most important Trusts of State,
Nor could his Treasons
Uter's Love abate.
Unhappy Prince, that still his Foes believ'd,
Only by Ruin to be undeceiv'd!
To Friends ingrate, his Foes be entertain'd,
Thus lost the one, but not the other gain'd.
Wisely undone, he knew his Friends too late,
By his own Prudence manag'd to his Fate.
Our Prayers and Warnings tir'd his Ears in vain,
Persidious Councils only could obtain.
Rough
Truth, and loyal
Bluntness gall'd his Ear,
That only soft, melodious Sounds could bear.
His firm and loyal Friends, though hardly us'd,
Look'd on enrag'd, to see their Prince abus'd.
Though some grown cold, ceas'd to lament his Fate,
For Will and Choice, Compassion still abate.
Pity a Prince whose Virtues shone so bright,
Should let so dark a Cloud obscure their Light!
[Page 113]To him and us this Weakness fatal prov'd,
That Men suspected were imploy'd and lov'd.
So
Carvil was.
Who labour'd after
Octa's late Retreat,
To more than balance his, with our Defeat.
The Traytor during all the bloody Day,
Found not the Means, our Army to betray.
But when the Sun drew off his radiant Train,
And left the Empress of the Night to reign.
Then
Carvil open'd his black Scene of Guilt,
Wherein such Seas of
British Blood were spilt.
He by confiding Hands to
Octa sent,
To let the
Saxon know his dire Intent
To give him Entrance to our Camp by Night,
Whither his Arms he did with speed invite.
Octa whose Arts and purchas'd Treasons won,
More Towns and Battles, then his Sword had done.
So fair a Season offer'd, not delay'd,
But straightway march'd our Army to invade.
Carvil mean time his Creatures had prepar'd,
To yield the Posts, their Duty was to guard.
Revolving
Cynthia with her doubtful Light,
Had now o'erpass'd the Noon of wearing Night.
When
Octa's chosen Troops approach'd the Gate,
Where to admit their Arms the Traytors wait.
The furious
Saxon straight our Camp invades,
Beneath the Covert of the silent Shades.
Their unexpected Arms our Men assail,
Dissolv'd in Sleep, and wearied with their Toil.
What Carnage now the raging
Saxons make,
Our Camp converted to a bloody Lake.
They first the brave
Dunwallo resting found,
His
Cuirass, Helm, and
Iavelin lying round,
And with their
Spears transfixt him on the ground.
[Page 114]His generous Soul flew upwards with Disdain,
To be massacred, not in Battle slain.
Morisso next with clattering Swords alarm'd
Wak'd with the Noise, but naked and unarm'd
His Side peirc'd thro' by
Horsa's Javelin, fell
Enrag'd he should his Life, so cheaply sell.
Then
Offa's Spear peirc'd
Capor's Bosome through,
His Soul to
Heav'n thro the wide Passage flew,
Leaving his Body drown'd in purple Gore,
None serv'd his Prince, or lov'd his Country more.
Edwal a Leader of unblemish'd Fame,
Who from the Banks of fair
Sabrina came
Fell by
Morino's Spear, and by his Side
Brave
Adomar, by
Balda's Javelin dy'd.
Then
Meirick in his Breast a fatal Wound
Receiv'd, and lay extended on the Ground.
Next
Catel who excell'd in youthful Charms;
Was slain by great
Romondo's conquering Arms,
The glitt'ring Steel did thro' his Bowels pass,
The Youth expir'd, and with him
Amel's Race.
And now what Slaughter reign'd, what Heaps of dead,
What Ruin o'er the blood Camp was spread?
Thro' the brown Shades at last, they found the way
To the
Pavilion, where King
Uter lay.
Who soon awaken'd with the Clamour, rose,
And form'd his Troops th' Invaders to oppose.
Long their unequal Force he did repel,
Till peirc'd by
Cerdick's fatal Spear, he fell.
Urg'd to retire,
Arthur our Prayer withstood,
Tho' faint with Labour, Wounds and Loss of Blood:
We prest him our remaining Hopes to spare,
And not of
Albion's Fortune to despair.
[Page 115]He does at last to our entreaties yield,
And with Reluctant Steps forsakes the Field.
We thro' the Wood retreated, where the shade
With
Cynthia's Rays, uncertain Twilight made.
When the succeeding Day declin'd, we came
To
Alda's Gates, a Port of ancient Fame.
Where we the Night in various Sorrows spent,
Now
Uter, now our Country we Lament.
Just
Catel's now, now great
Dunwallo's Fate,
And faithful
Edwal's fall, fresh Grief create.
While our sad Minds endur'd so rude a Storm,
Entring the Room great
Gabriel's God-like Form,
Mild Glory, and
Celestial day diffus'd,
Advanc'd, he these kind words to
Arthur us'd.
Now
Albion sinks beneath the
Saxon weight,
So
Heav'n Decrees, 'tis so ordain'd by Fate.
But after ten times the Revolving Sun,
His Crooked Race, has thro' the
Zodiack run,
The Clouds dispell'd, propitious
Heav'n shall smile,
On
Uter's House, and this reviving
Isle.
Octa shall feel just
Heav'n's revenging Stroke,
And
Albion's Youth shall break the
Saxon Yoke.
Mean time, brave Prince, whom universal Love
Attends beneath, and Grace Divine above.
To
Neustrian Odar's Court with speed repair,
Go,
Albion's Hopes, and my great Trust and Care.
Go,
Albion's Hopes with Triumph to return,
And Rescue those, that shall your absence mourn.
That said, his Heav'nly Glory he withdrew,
And to th' Immortal Seats of Happy Spirits flew.
Now the fair Morn smiles with a Purple Ray,
Clearing before the Sun the Eastern Way.
[Page 116]Whose radiant Train pours from the Gates of Light,
And the new Day does to new Toil invite.
We the Celestial Message to obey,
On a stout Ship, that in the Haven lay
Ready to Sail, embark and hast away.
The Sky serene, a fresh and prosperous Gale,
Sprang from the Shore, and swell'd out every Sail.
Albion's white Cliffs and Towers we quickly lost,
Standing our Course strait to the
Neustrian Coast.
Where when the Sun twice starting from the East,
Had ran his Race, and reach'd the falling West.
We safe arriv'd at fair
Cartinia's Port,
And took our way from thence to
Odar's Court.
Odar, a Prince indulgent, valiant, good,
Ally'd to
Uter by the Mother's Blood,
The barbarous
Goths Incursions, then withstood.
His beauteous Queen with Joy the Prince receiv'd,
Her Words our Grief, her Gifts our Wants reliev'd.
Here we to ease our troubled Minds remain'd,
Till
Arthur perfect Strength and Vigour gain'd.
Then taking leave we straight direct our way
Unto the Camp, where
Odar's Forces lay.
And as we pass'd to mitigate our Grief,
And to our Woes to give Divine Relief.
From his blest Tongue such
Heav'nly Language flows,
As did the greatness of his Mind disclose.
We thought some God-like
Cherub to us spoke,
When from his Lips these high Expressions broke.
Heav'n's Offspring with divine Contentment blest,
Enjoy the Empire of a guiltless Breast.
Tho' spoil'd by prosp'rous Robbers, still they find,
The large Possessions of a peaceful Mind.
[Page 117]
Content alone can all their wrongs redress,
Content, that other name for
Happiness.
Free from Desire, they are as free from want,
And from the Cares, that envied Greatness haunt.
'Tis equal, if our Fortunes should augment,
And stretch themselves to the same vast Extent
With our Desires, or those Desires abate,
Shrink, and Contract themselves, to fit our State.
Pois'd on their own unshaken Base they view,
All the Vicissitudes, that Time can shew.
They, like tall Mountains, are advanc'd so high,
That the low Clouds do all beneath them fly.
Hence while loud Storm's inferiour Seats molest,
They undisturb'd, enjoy soft Peace and Rest.
These Men that suit their wishes to their State,
And pleas'd still with themselves, enjoy their Fate:
Whose modest
Passions Reason's Nod obey,
Are greater
Kings, than those who Scepters sway.
They can the Triumphs of a Court despise,
And the rich Toys, that charm deluded Eyes.
They rather choose to tame their Thirst, than have
All the Supplies their Feaverish Drought can crave.
Desires for
Freedom first make humble Suit,
And modestly demand th' unlawful Fruit.
But when set loose, they know not where to stay,
But lawless thro' the World's Dominions stray.
So subterranean
Vapours, that contain'd
In some close
Cavern, are with Ease restrain'd,
When once releas'd, ungovernable grow,
And prove fierce Storms, that no Resistance know.
Th' unhappy Man slave to his wild Desire,
By feeding it, foments the raging Fire.
His Gains augment his unextinguish'd Thirst,
With Plenty
Poor, and with Abundance
Curst.
[Page 118]But greater Minds, that can themselves subdue,
Preserve their Peace, and still their Joys renew.
They never by a Vile, or Impious Course,
Protect their Wealth, from rising Tempests force.
They face the Storm, and stand its fiercest Shocks;
Bold as the Winds, unshaken as the Rocks.
No Tempest that invades th' ambitious Breast,
Can the calm Region of their Mind molest.
So Winds, that Rivulets disturb, will play
In harmless Breezes, on the wider Sea.
Sour
Discontent that quarrels with our Fate,
May give fresh smart, but not the old abate.
Envenom'd with its Sting each harmless loss,
Grows wondrous sharp, and proves a deadly cross.
Th' uneasie
Passion's disingenious Wit
The
Ill reveals, but hides the
Benefit.
It makes a Toy press with prodigious weight,
And swells a Molehill, to a Mountain's height.
So melancholy Men lie down, and groan,
Prest with the burden of themselves alone.
Crusht with Phantastick Mountains they despair,
Their Heads are grown vast Globes too big to bear.
A little Spark becomes a raging Flame,
And each weak Blast, a Storm too fierce to tame.
So peevish is the quarrelsome Disease,
No prosp'rous Fortune can procure it Ease.
Their Breasts are ne'er from inbred Tempests free,
Restless as Winds, and troubled as the Sea:
The Pleasure now they seek would bring Content;
But when enjoy'd, 'twas somewhat else, they meant.
Some absent
Happiness they still pursue,
Dislike the present Good, and long for New.
[Page 119]The Man now thinks he sees his Bliss, and flies
With greedy Arms to grasp the gaudy Prize.
But then enquiring what his Hopes have won,
Vain Man, he finds the cheating Shadow gone.
Oft does the fair
Illusion by him stand,
But when pursu'd gives back, and mocks his hand.
Sometimes he sees the beck'ning
Phantome here,
That, when he follows, does elsewhere appear.
The Wretch though Tantalized, and always crost,
Yet still pursues, though still that Labour's lost.
The God-like
Arthur with such pious words,
Divine Instruction, and
Delight affords.
And while his Language with a Heav'nly Flame
Thus warm'd our Breasts, to
Odar's Camp we came;
Where to the
Neustrian King the Prince addrest,
Who all the highest Signs of Love exprest.
The Royal
Exile he embrac'd with Tears,
And by these tender words himself endears.
King
Uter's Fall, your loss, and
Albion's Fate,
Wound me with Grief too mighty to relate.
Long to Misfortunes, and great Wrongs inur'd,
I pity those, that have like Ills endur'd.
You are a Stranger here, but not your Name,
Your early Worth is told aloud by Fame.
Arthur's preserv'd to be the
Saxons dread,
And Rear opprest
Britannia's drooping Head.
While you are safe,
Britannia must revive,
And
Uter still in Valiant
Arthur live.
While you survive, King
Octa's Fears remain,
And
Albion hopes to break her pond'rous Chain.
Heroes are for Heroick Deeds design'd,
And noble Work, attends a noble Mind
[Page 120]Mean time, while here your Choice is to reside,
No Succours, no Supplies shall be deny'd.
And if your
Britons banish'd from their home,
Drawn by their Prince's Fame, shall hither come;
Briton and
Neustrian shall like Treatment find,
I'll be to both, without Distinction, kind.
And when mild Days shall your Return invite,
My Arms shall Aid you, to assert your Right.
The Prince reply'd:
Divine Compassion melts your Royal Breast,
And makes your Bounty flow on all distrest.
Like
Heav'n, you Succours to th' Afflicted grant,
Comfort their Sorrows, and supply their Want.
You Crush Oppressors, to th' Opprest are kind,
Such generous Deeds reveal a God-like Mind.
O'er
Uter's House the
Saxon Power prevails,
And sad
Britannia her dire Fate bewails.
The World's supream
Director so ordains,
Hence in my Soul no murmuring Passion reigns.
Pleas'd or
Contented still I meet my Fate,
Would not be
Impious, though Unfortunate.
Your generous Offer of Protection here,
With such engaging Language, such an Air,
As Love and Friendship seek out to Endear;
Perswade, that here my Refuge is design'd,
Till
Albion grows more Just, and
Heav'n more Kind.
Here your Example shall my Mind prepare,
For all the high Concerns of
Peace and
War.
Till
Albion call us back, I'll here remain,
And in your Service shall grow fit to Reign:
Here in the Camp the pious
Briton staid,
To whom the
Neustrian Chiefs great Honour paid.
[Page 121]For his high Merit could not be conceal'd,
His Valiant Deeds the Hero soon reveal'd.
Loud Fame his God-like Virtues did proclaim,
And either Camp resounds with
Arthur's Name.
He still the Posts of highest Danger sought,
And Death and Vict'ry follow'd, where he fought.
When he advanc'd, the
Goths unnumber'd Swarms
Fled from the Terrour of his fatal Arms.
Like Love and Wonder, Camp and Court express,
That did the Hero, this the Saint confess.
His Sword still won fresh Laurels in the Field,
And to his Virtues ev'n Court Vices yield.
And 'tis more easie to reduce a Fort,
Or win a Battel, then reform a Court.
He the fixt Mounds of trembling
Europe stood,
And still repell'd the
Goths impetuous Flood.
When he appear'd, their Men, tho' fierce and bold,
Grow Chill with Fear, as when at home with Cold.
Thro' the admiring World his Fame was spread,
The Christians Joy, and barb'rous Nations Dread.
Where gagg'd with Ice the Waves no longer roar,
But with stiff Arms embrace the silent Shore.
Where naked Hills in frozen Armour stand,
Where raging
Sirius Fries the thirsty Land,
And rich
Pactolus rolls his golden Sand;
Thither his Triumphs and Illustrious Name,
His generous Deeds, and loud Applauses came.
His wondrous Virtues, wondrous Love engage,
That reach'd Perfection, long before his Age.
Odar embrac'd him, as an Angel sent
To guard his Throne, and threaten'd Fall prevent.
He own'd his bright Example did support,
Th' esteem of Virtue in the
Neustrian Court.
[Page 122]Their Peace at home proceeded from his Care,
And from his Courage their Success in War.
When we, our hopes of sinking
Albion lost,
Made by Divine Command the
Neustrian Coast,
The
Gothick Arms that Kingdom had o'errun,
Surpriz'd their Forts, and fairest Cities won.
All Banks born down, so high the Deluge rose,
Before King
Odar could its Course oppose.
'Twas then the young Deliverer
Arthur came,
To drive the
Goths, and win Immortal Fame.
He soon reduc'd the Cities, and restor'd
A peaceful Country, to its peaceful Lord.
Mean time the
British Knights opprest at home,
Drawn by his Fame, to find a Leader come.
So thick they Land, our Troops were numerous grown,
And
Arthur led an Army of his own.
Ten times the Sun had pass'd his oblique way,
By turns contracting, and increasing Day,
Darting to either Pole a warmer Ray.
And now the
British Lords, who though opprest
The
Western Region of their Isle possest.
Whither retreating they remain'd secure,
And from their Hills defy'd the
Saxon Power;
Encourag'd by his war-like Fame, invite
The Valiant
Arthur to assert his Right.
To make a bold Descent upon their Coast,
And win the Regions back that
Uter lost.
Ten chosen Orators were straight dispatcht,
The chief whose charming Tongue was never matcht,
Was the great
Tylon, whose Immortal Worth,
Raises to Heav'n the Isle that gave him Birth.
Who never spake, and Admiration mist.
Of
Good and
Kind he the just Standard seem'd,
Dear to the
Best, and by the worst esteem'd.
A generous Love diffus'd to Humane Kind,
Divine Compassion,
Mercy unconfin'd,
Still reign'd Triumphant in his God-like
Mind?
Greatness and
Modesty their Wars compose,
Between them here a perfect Friendship grows.
His Wit, his Judgment, Learning, equal rise,
Divinely humble, yet Divinely Wise.
He seem'd Express on
Heav'n's high
Errand sent,
As
Moses Meek, as
Aaron Eloquent.
Nectar Divine flows from his
Heav'nly Tongue,
And on his Lips charming
Perswasion hung.
When he the sacred
Oracles reveal'd,
Our ravish'd Souls in blest Enchantments held,
Seem'd lost in Transports of
Immortal Bliss,
No simple Man could ever speak like this.
Arm'd with Celestial Fire his sacred Darts
Glide thro' our
Breasts, and melt our yielding
Hearts.
So Southern Breezes, and the Spring's mild Ray,
Unbind the
Glebe, and thaw the Frozen Clay.
He triumph'd o'er our
Souls, and at his Will
Bid this touch'd
Passion rise, and that be still.
Wolves, Tygers, grisly
Lyons did admire,
As
Poets feign,
Orpheus's melodious Lyre.
Charm'd with sweet
Tylon's Voice, a Kind more wild,
More fierce and savage, grow divinely Mild.
Lord of our
Passions he with wondrous Art,
Can strike the secret movements of our
Heart;
Release our
Souls, and make them soar above,
Wing'd with Divine
Desires, and Flames of
Heav'nly Love.
[Page 124]He still convey'd sublime,
Seraphick Sense,
In unaffected Strains of
Eloquence.
Easie and wonderful is all he says,
Does both Delight, and Admiration raise.
His pious Soul did in sad Accents mourn
Britannia's Chains, and
Pagan Gods return.
But hop'd, kind
Heav'n would free, by
Arthur's hand
Of Barb'rous
Laws, and
Gods, th' afflicted Land.
With the great
Tylon young
Pollandor went,
Fam'd for his Valour, and of high Descent.
With these wise
Galbut and
Mordennan joyn,
Whose Virtues vye with their Illustrious Line.
Valiant
Giralden worn with War and Age,
Does in th' Important Embassy engage.
Gisan was added, a
Dobunian Knight,
Bold in the
Senate, and as Brave in Fight.
Hobar, Mansellan, Cadel, Milo, Skill'd
In Arms and
Eloquence, the number fill'd.
Such
Orators they chose, fit to excite
The Pious
Arthur, and his Arms invite.
Thus
Tylon to the pious Prince addrest,
And found the passage open to his Breast.
Britannia crush'd beneath the
Saxon Yoke,
Does with her mournful Prayer your Arms invoke.
Enslav'd by Forraign Power, Distrest, Undone,
She sues for Aid to you, her Valiant Son,
And hopes for Succour from your Sword alone.
Octa all Right, and ancient
Law subverts,
And uncontroul'd Tyrannick
Power asserts.
His Lawless Will grasps Arbitrary Sway,
And
British Slaves, without Reserve, Obey.
The sacred Bounds and Lines, which
Right and
Law
Round all those just and happy Kingdoms draw;
[Page 125]Which from the Wast of Tyranny they gain,
Where Uproar, Rage, and wild Confusion reign,
These broken down,
Octa does open lay,
And throw the goodly
Island up a Prey
To Furies, that in lawless Kingdoms stray.
Britannia by the Conquerour ravish'd first,
Then giv'n to Priests, and Soldiers raging Lust;
Wretched
Britannia, sunk in deep Despair,
Beats her white Breasts, and tears her golden Hair.
Dying with Anger, Shame and Grief, she lies,
And Floods of Tears gush from her beauteous Eyes.
Which swell the silver Tide of mournful
Thames,
And grieve old Ocean with the troubled Srreams.
Hear, pious Prince, how to the
Neustrian Shore,
Complaining Waves roll the sad Treasure o'er.
How murmuring Winds wast o'er
Britannia's Sighs,
Can
Arthur disregard his Countries Cries?
With words like these, and such a moving Art
As can't be told, he touch'd the Prince's Heart.
With so much Life, he spake sad
Albion's Moans,
We thought we felt her smart, and heard her Groans.
Nor did the pious Prince their Prayer oppose,
But soon resolv'd to ease
Britannia's Woes.
To
Odar he reveal'd his high Intent,
Who
Ships, and
Men, and
Arms rejoycing lent:
Supplying all things our Descent requir'd,
And heaping Gifts, more than our selves desir'd.
Our
Ships prepared, with chearful Zeal and Care,
We went on Board, and soon embark'd the War.
Our Anchors weighed, and Topsails loos'd a Gale
Sprang up, and swell'd the Womb of every Sail.
Old
Ocean pleas'd our bounding Vessels laves,
That with sharp Keels cut thro' the foaming Waves.
[Page 126]Th' astonish'd
Saxons see, and fear from far,
The long Succession of the Sailing War.
They spread thro' all the
Isle the loud Alarm,
And trembling
Octa hasts his Men to Arm.
We Sail'd not long before the Sea ran high,
And gathering Clouds deform'd the lowring Sky.
The fearful Storm arose, wherein we lost
Th' extinguish'd Day, and on the Billows tost,
We drove, till forc'd upon th'
Armoric Coast.
He ceas'd, and now the Shades of wearing Night,
Did the pleas'd Audience to their Rest invite.
LOvely
Aurora makes a mild Essay
With glimm'ring Dawn, to introduce the Day:
Her rosie Steps the Sun pursues, and Spreads
His smiling Glories on the Mountains Heads.
The Princes rose, and
Hoel thus exprest
His friendly Passion, to his Royal Guest.
Your Virtues shew you are by Heav'n design'd
A great
Deliv'rer of opprest Mankind.
You give to Realms with Wars molested, Peace,
And from their Chains tormented Slaves release.
Fair
Liberty's and blest
Religion's Cause
Reviving Hopes from your Protection draws.
Your prosp'rous Arms invading Plagues repel,
And monstrous
Gods, and monstrous
Tyrants quell.
King
Odar's Realm and mine you save, in his
You settle Peace, and Truth divine in this.
And now compassion arms your valiant Hand
To free from barbarous Rage, your native Land.
To vanquish
Pagan Darkness, and display
Immortal Light, and pure
Etherial Day.
My self will here abide, and Succours lend
O'er all the Realm
Christ's Empire to extend.
Conan my Son shall on your Triumphs wait,
And when return'd, your glorious Deeds relate.
[Page 128]I'll now command that with incessant Care,
My Men assist, your Losses to repair.
Then I'll conduct you to the
Druids Grove,
Which Men of heav'nly Contemplation love.
Where solemn Walks and awful shade invite
Compos'd Devotion, and Divine Delight,
Exclude the Sun's, to let in purer Light.
There with your pious Conversation blest,
New Light will fill my Mind, new Joy my Breast.
The Orders giv'n the
Navy's Wants
requir'd
The Princes to the
Druids Grove retired.
Where
Arthur's Language did the King inspire,
With holy Transports, and Seraphick Fire.
Mean time th'
Armoricans and
Britons meet,
All Zealous to Equip the shatter'd Fleet.
Part to the
Groves and woody
Hills repair,
And with loud Labour fill the ecchoing Air.
Axes high rais'd by brawny Arms descend
With mighty Sway, and make the
Forrest bend.
The Mountains murmur, and the nodding
Oakes,
Groan with their Wounds, from thick redoubled Strokes.
The falling Trees desert the neighbouring Sky,
Where now the Clouds may unmolested fly.
A shady Harvest lies disperst around,
And lofty Ruin loads th' encumber'd Ground.
Part, the hewn Trees draw down with wondrous Toil,
T' enrich the Ocean with the Mountains Spoil.
So fast they came, and in such Order stood,
As
Orpheus Lyre had call'd th' obsequious Wood
From their fixt Seats to dance upon the Flood.
Part raise the
Masts, now to be shaken more
With furious Winds, then on their Hills before.
[Page 129]Part shape new Ribs, and with industrious Care,
Ships broken Backs, and ghastly Wounds repair.
Part their bruis'd Sides anoint with unctious Pitch,
Part the carv'd Sterns, with Paint and Gold enrich.
Part Cables twist, part smear'd with Smoak and Sweat,
With vast Cyclopian Strokes huge Anchors beat.
While thus the
Britons did their Ships repair,
Th' Infernal Prince enrag'd and wreckt with Care,
Swift, as exploded Lightning from the Skies,
A second time to
Lapland Mountains flies.
Where the rough Monarch's noisy Palace stands,
Whose awful Nod, the raging Winds commands.
To him thus
Lucifer, kind Prince, to you
A second time I for Assistance sue.
The cursed Prince that by your high Command
Your furious Subjects drove on
Hoel's Land;
Aided by
Hoel does his Fleet repair,
Ready to
Albion to transport the War.
Let adverse Winds blow on the troubled Main,
Retard their Project, and their Ships detain.
Till
Octa has prepar'd his warlike Fleet,
The proud Invader on the Seas to meet.
He ceas'd, the Emperor of the Winds replies,
When you shall ask what rebel Power denies.
Your Realms you rule with uncontested Sway,
Your Post is to command, mine to obey.
That said, he calls his wandring Subjects home,
Eurus and
Notus straight obedient come.
Last sluggish
Auster to his Den with wet
And flabby Wings, does heavily retreat,
To whom their Prince, let now your Labours cease,
Indulge your Wings, be reconcil'd to Peace.
[Page 130]Close in your Darksome Prisons sleeping lie,
To gain more Breath to blow, more Strength to fly.
Then down their howling Throats black Sops he threw,
Of Poppies and cold Nightshade made, that grew
On the dark Banks, where
Lethe's lazy Deep
Does its black Stores, and drousie Treasure keep,
Rolls its slow Flood, and rocks the nodding Waves asleep.
The strong Enchantments quick Admission find,
And the wild Rout benumming Fetters bind.
They murmur in their Sleep, and strive in vain
To spurn away th' unweildy leaden Chain.
Then calling
Boreas, says, fly
Boreas, fly,
Blow o'er the Lands and on the Billows lie.
Make hast, and to th'
Armoric Coast repair,
Be thine the spacious Empire of the Air.
Unrivall'd, unmolested Reign alone,
Till all thy Force is spent, and all thy Breath is gone.
No Hostile, windy Powers contest thy Reign,
And uncontroll'd Dominion of the Main.
Scarce had he ended, when up
Boreas springs,
And thro' the Air spreads out his furious Wings.
He o'er warm Climes diffuses
Northern Spoils,
And the cold Treasures of the frozen Isles.
With blustring War he frights old Ocean's Court,
Buffets the Waves, and raises Storms in Sport.
In vain th' impatient
Britons spread their Sails,
Loud
Boreas keeps them back with adverse Gales.
Proud
Lucifer urg'd with his Rage and Spight,
Back to
Britannia takes his airy Flight.
To find the
Saxon Monarch, and inspire
His trembling Soul with fresh Infernal Fire.
[Page 131]And now the Night does her black Throne ascend,
And dusky Shades her silent State attend.
While pale-fac'd
Cynthia with her starry Train,
Dart down their trembling Lustre on the Main.
The weary Lab'rers their stiff Limbs repose,
And Sleep's soft Hand their drowsie Eyelids close.
All Rest enjoy, but
Octa anxious lay,
Wakeful, and longing for returning Day.
His dreadful Crimes affright his startled Soul,
And in his Breast black Tides of Horrour roll.
Dire Shapes, and staring Ghosts pass threatning by.
And Streaks of Fire across th' Apartment fly.
He hears the Shreaks of those his bloody Hand
Had murder'd, or that dy'd by his Command.
He hears the Widdows Sighs, and Orphans Moans,
Himself had made, and tortur'd Pris'ners Groans.
The Grounds of pale Despair he sometimes draws,
From
Arthur's Valour, and his Righteous Cause.
Sometimes he fears his injur'd Subjects Rage,
Their vengeful Arms against him will engage.
Then starts, and thinks he hears Prince
Arthur's Fleet
Is on the Coast, proclaim'd in every Street.
Then
Lucifer does
Odin's Shape assume,
And with Stern Grace enters King
Octa's Room.
His vig'rous Limbs had dazling Armour on,
And round his Head his polish'd Helmet shone.
His conquering Sword hung down with awful Grace,
And Scars of Honour seam'd his manly Face.
His warlike Hand grip'd his Vulcanian Shield,
With rare Devices pourtray'd on the Field.
With Martial State he strides along the Room,
And shakes at every Step his lofty Plume.
He spake, Son
Octa, from celestial Day,
From the blest Groves, and mild,
Elysian Seats,
Thy Father
Odin to thy Aid retreats.
To ease thy restless Mind of anxious Cares,
Support thy Hopes, and dissipate thy Fears.
Stand thou unmov'd at
Arthur's proud Alarms,
Conquest attends thine, and thy
Saxons Arms.
He'll sink beneath the Sea's insulting Wave,
Or Landing, find on Shore a surer Grave.
Think on the Spoils and Trophies you have born,
And spreading Laurels on your Temples worn.
Let none that's sprung from my Victorious Race,
At Danger shrink, and my great Stock debase.
Go, hast thy Royal Navy to prepare,
Let
Ships with
Ships encounter,
War with
War.
On the wide Main th'Invader's Fleet oppose,
Better to meet, than here expect your Foes.
Go Chase their scatter'd Navy o'er the Deep,
And thus in Peace, thy envy'd Empire keep.
He ceas'd, and with Majestick Pace retir'd,
And left King
Octa with fresh Life inspir'd.
Who with the Sun arose, resolv'd to meet
With all his Naval Power, Prince
Arthur's Fleet.
He gave Command, the Captains straight resort
To their tall Ships, and leave the wanton Court.
A forward Zeal the busie Sailors shew,
Some mend old Ships, and some Equip the new.
With flaming Reeds some their pitch'd Bellies fry,
Some hoist the Yards, and Canvas Wings apply.
Some from its Cradle launch a rocking Hull,
Some at the Cables strain, and howling pull
[Page 133]Vast Anchors up, some Stores and Arms entomb,
And stow with hidden War the Ship's dark Womb.
The Shores around, and all the Oazy Soil
Resound with Clamour, and the Sailors Toil.
Well Rigg'd and Mann'd, the Ships from every Port
To their appointed Rendezvous resort.
The Rivers disembogue, besides their Flood,
Into the Seas a lofty, painted Wood.
And now the Moon had twice the silver Field
Of her fair Orb, with borrow'd Glory fill'd.
Since the uneasie
Britons had remain'd
By adverse Winds, within their Port detain'd.
Boreas that had his Blasts profusely blown,
His Storms all spent, and bleaky Treasures gone,
With tir'd and flaggy Pinions now retreats,
To fetch Recruits from wild
Laplandian Seats.
Auster does next with milder Blasts prevail,
And for the
Britons blows a prosperous Gale.
Now each rough Hero of the Ocean stands
On the high Deck, giving Austere Commands.
Prince
Arthur to Embark approach'd the Shore,
Where the reposing Seas no longer Roar.
But at his Feet obsequious Billows lay,
As Conscious of the Power they must Obey.
Then their broad
Backs, subsiding they submit,
Proud to sustain their future Monarch's Fleet.
The lofty Ships on rolling Billows bound,
The Waves in soft Embraces clinging round.
As when the
Trojans, in the
Mantuan Song
From
Africk Sands, to
Latium sail'd along.
Old Ocean rose up from his rocky Throne,
A Crystal Scepter, and a reedy Crown
[Page 134]His Power confest, his dewy Head he reer'd
Above the Flood, and smiling on the Waves appear'd.
New gather'd Banks of Quicksands he remov'd,
And kindly thro' the Deep, the Navy shov'd.
So the calm Ocean seem'd with equal care,
On its pleas'd Waves, the
British Fleet to bear.
Huge, rolling
Porpoisses spout Seas away,
And friendly
Dolphins round the Squadrons play.
The floating Castles dance upon the Tide,
And on its foaming Ridge Triumphant ride.
In glorious Lines the painted Squadrons move,
As if the Poets Gods laps'd from above,
In gilded Clouds, were dancing on the Seas
In Masquerade, with the green Deities.
Twice the great Ruler of the Day had hurl'd
His flaming
Orb, around th' enlighten'd World.
When at the early Dawning of the Day,
The Navies in each others Prospect lay.
The
Saxon Squadrons cover all the Main,
And with their
Prows divide the liquid Plain,
Plying to Windward,
Arthur's Men prepare
Their Navy, to receive th' advancing War.
Down on their Feet King
Octa bravely bore,
Whose long-wing'd Navy strercht, from Shore to Shore.
Both Fleets in Lines of War stood cross the Deep,
And ready to Engage, just Order keep.
They hoist their bloody Flags on either side,
And Death her Jaws does for her Feast provide.
Now the shrill Trumpets sprightly Voice, and all
The Harmony of War, to Combate call.
The
Saxon Sailors with a hideous Cry,
Affright the Deep, and rend the Eachoing Sky.
[Page 135]The barb'rous Yellings and outrageous Sound
From Rock to Rock, and Shore to Shore rebound.
A furious Fight between the Fleets began,
And bold
Selingbert first Attacks their Van.
Now bearded Darts, and fatal Javelins fly,
And Balls of Fire hiss throgh th' inlightned Sky.
Each on his Foe missive Destruction pours,
And Death receives, and gives in feather'd Showers.
Thus milder Fate at distance sparing slew,
Till to a closer Fight
Selingbert flew,
And on his Foe his massy Grapples threw.
Which clenching fast their pond'rous, griping Claws,
The rude Embrace, both Ships together draws.
The
Saxons flew on Board with furious Arms,
And on the Decks appear in numerous swarms.
Vogan enrag'd, did fatal Wounds dispence,
With lavish Hand, and made a brave Defence.
With Battle-Axes, Swords, unweildy Crows,
They clear the Decks of the insulting Foes.
Beat down with ghastly Wounds, some gaspingly,
Others their Arms cast down, for Mercy cry.
Into the Waves some their pale Bodies throw,
And fly from Death above, to Death below.
Down the Ships sides Torrents of
Saxon Blood,
With unknown Crimson Dye th' astonish'd Flood.
Upon the Decks, that slaughter'd Heaps deform,
Enrag'd
Selingbert pours a second Storm,
Which like a Summers Shower soon disappear'd,
By Valiant
Vogan and his
Britons clear'd.
Selingbert thus defeated, boils with Rage,
But forc'd at last, his Ship to disengage;
He bears away, and quits th' unequal Fight,
Providing for his safety, by his Flight.
Octa mean time his Men for Fight prepares,
And fiercely down, on
Arthur's Squadron bears.
The spacious sides of his high Ship consum'd
Whole Forrests, and whole Mountains Spoils entomb'd.
It self a Fleet across the Billows stood,
Engross'd the Winds, and press'd the labouring Flood.
The lofty, gilded Palace shone from far,
Presenting to the Foe a glorious War.
Bold
Octa, and the Valiant
Arthur meet,
Which strook a vast Concern thro' either Fleet.
On this important Action seem'd to wait
The
British Hero's, and
Britannia's Fate.
Both sides with Shouts their fatal Weapons fling,
And wing'd with Death thick Showers of Arrows sing.
Unerring Darts in hissing Tempest fly,
And carry swift Destruction thro' the Sky.
Ships rush to Battle with enormous Shocks,
As Towers with Towers encounter'd, Rocks with Rocks,
So in the
Northern Seas when Storms arise
High Rocks of Snow, and sailing Hills of Ice
Against each other with a mighty Crash,
Driv'n by the Winds, in rude Rencounter dash.
The Sea afflicted foams, the Waves on high,
Toss'd by the batt'ring
Islands, lave the Sky.
The Crystal Towers break with a fearful Crack,
And on the Billows spread their foaming Wreck.
Vast Sheets of rocky Ice, and broken Isles,
Oppress the lab'ring Ocean with their Spoils.
On both sides now they call forth all their Rage,
Resolv'd in closer Combat to engage.
Then Death and Slaughter in sad Triumph reign'd,
And Seas of Blood the slipp'ry Decks distain'd.
[Page 137]Some the Pale Dead into the Ocean heave,
Some in the Ships low Caves the wounded leave.
Prodigious Numbers fell on either Side,
Thin on the Decks they look'd, but thick upon the Tide.
For neither Chief e'er met a greater Foe,
Both wondrous Skill, and wondrous Courage show.
While Vict'ry poising equal Hope and Fear,
With doubtful Wings hung hov'ring in the Air.
The wise Prince
Arthur whilst on Shore equips,
Their use till then unknown, a sort of Ships,
That since the Deeds of that Important Day,
Among lost Arts in deep Olivion lay.
Till Captains that in after Ages liv'd,
The long forgotten Stratagem reviv'd.
Bitumen, Sulphur, and
Vulcanian Spoils,
From lab'ring Mountains, and from unctious Soils.
Naptha and Pitch with Skill and Labour wrought,
With hidden Stores of Flame the Vessel fraught.
Like rolling Clouds where Lightning's Seeds remain,
Their swelling Wounds a fiery Birth contain.
Arthur so strange a Ship to
Octa sent,
With such Infernal Treasures in it pent.
Which with its grappling Engines fixt, and fir'd,
The bold Commander to his Friends retir'd.
The Fire with unextinguish'd Rage, consumes,
The Subterranean Wealth the Ship intombs.
Vast sheets of Flame, and Pitchy Clouds arise,
And burning Vomit, spouts against the Skies.
Tempests of Fire th' astonish'd Heav'ns annoy,
Fierce, as those Storms, that from their Clouds destroy;
As
Aetna from its glowing Roots was torn,
And by its own wild Hurricanes was born
[Page 130]From its old Seat, to float upon the Waves,
With
Vulcan's Magazins, and
Cyclop's smoaking Caves.
The burning Plague adher'd to
Octa's side,
And the scorcht Ribs the hot Contagion fry'd.
The spreading Mischief's growth no Force restrains,
The Plague resisted more severely Reigns.
To the tall Masts the raging Flame aspires,
And neighbour sits to Heav'n's contiguous Fires.
Octa at last his flaming Ship forsakes,
And in stout
Horsa's Vessel Refuge takes.
Here he once more his Royal Standard Rears,
Where on the Deck undaunted he appears,
With chearful Looks dissembling inward Fears.
He strives the
Saxons Courage to excite,
To press the Foe, and still maintain the Fight.
But strives in vain, assisted by the Wind,
The spreading Burnings no Resistance find.
Resistless Flames advance with lawless Power
From Ship to Ship, and thro' the Fleet devour.
Naked, and half-burnt Hulls with hideous Wreck,
Affright the Skies, and fry the Ocean's back.
Scorcht Bodies, broken Masts, and smoaking Beams,
Promiscuous Ruin, float along the Streams.
Deform'd Destruction, and wild Horrour ride
In fearful Pomp, upon the Crimson Tyde.
At last King
Octa, dreading longer stay,
Commanding all to follow, tows away;
The
Saxon Captains chearfully obey.
But
Lucifer enrag'd at this Defeat,
Plots to protect, and cover their Retreat.
Summon'd to his
Pavilion, straight repair
The
Daemons, that infest th' Inferiour Air.
[Page 139]With bloated Fiends, that in dark Caves abide,
And o'er the Subterranean Damps preside.
Last the flow Powers come from their misty Dens,
That rule the Marshes, Lakes, and stagnant Fens.
To whom their Prince, see, how King
Octa tows
His shatter'd Ships, prest by Victorious Foes.
Go, and protect him from the fierce Pursuit,
And give him time, his Navy to recruit.
Let all your Damps, and lazy Fogs arise,
And with your sluggish Treasures cloud the Skies.
Let your thick Mists repel th' unwelcome Light,
And o'er the Ocean spread a friendly Night.
The humble Powers their haughty Prince obey,
Some from dark Caverns far remote from Day,
From each embowell'd Mount, and hollow Vault
Crude Exhalations, and raw Vapours brought.
Some from deep Quagmires, Ponds, and sedgy Moors,
Drive the dull Reeks, and shove the haizy Stores.
To their appointed Station all repair,
And with their heavy Wings encumber all the Air.
The ponderous Night's impenetrable Steems,
Exclude the Sun, and choak his brightest Beams.
The hov'ring Clouds the
Saxon Fleet embrace,
And wondrous Darkness stops the
Briton's Chase.
Octa, Aeneas like, a misty Night
Around him cast, escapes the
Briton's Sight.
Now had the Sun diffus'd the early Day,
From his bright Orb, and chas'd the Fogs away.
To their known Shore the
Saxon Navy flies,
And in their Ports and Rivers safely lies.
Arthur, who while the Shades prevail'd, had lain
Under an easie Sail, upon the Main;
[Page 140]Discovering that the
Saxon Fleet was lost,
Tack'd, and directly stood for
Albion's Coast.
He sail'd not long, before his Joyful Men
Could from the Masts, their native Countrey ken.
First the
Bolerian Promontory rears
His Head, and as a lofty Wedge appears,
That down into the Deep, had from the Shore,
Run from
Danmonian Mines and melted Oar.
Here when the Oazy Shore by ebbing Tides,
Is naked left, around its glitt'ring Sides,
Pale Tinny Oar, and Copper's brighter Vein,
Casts Glimmering Lustre o'er the liquid Plain.
Next they discover the aspiring Hills,
Whose Precious Sides Metallick Treasure fills.
In their dark Caves
Cyclopian Lab'rers sweat,
And their vast Blows the ecchoing Hills repeat.
With ghastly Wounds they rend the groaning Earth,
And from its Bowels wrest the massy Birth.
By racking Engines, and redoubled Blows,
She's forc'd her hidden Riches to disclose.
Under wide Caldrons, some whole Forrest pile,
And melt in purging Flames the wealthy Spoil.
Some in their hot
Aetnean Forges sweat,
And glowing Wedges on huge Anvils beat.
Their mighty strokes shake all the bellowing ground,
The neighb'ring Mountains, and the Vales around,
With subterranean Toil and Noise resound.
They pass the crooked Shore, which Fame of old
Enrich'd with pond'rous Pearl, and scatter'd Gold.
They view the Rocks with Gems and Treasure blest,
In verdant
Samphire, and
Eringo drest.
Danmonian Crows leaving the Neighb'ring Hills,
In numerous, noisy Flights, their Feet and Bills
[Page 141]With Native Crimson dy'd, o'erspread the Sky,
And o'er the Fleet in Ominous Circles fly.
Not far remov'd, it's sides a Mountain shows,
Where winding Shores a spacious Bay enclose.
His lofty Head, that flying Clouds invades,
From Shore to Shore the dusky Ocean shades.
Long this wild Seat, as ancient Fame obtain'd,
A fierce Gigantick Race of Men maintain'd;
Tall as the Hill, on which the Monsters dwelt,
Whose groaning sides their striding motion felt:
Torn from wild Beasts raw Skins, and grisly Hydes,
A horrid Dress, adorn'd their hideous sides.
Half roasted Swine their savage Jaws devour,
That stain their squallid Chins with flowing Gore.
In thorny Dens the outstretcht Monsters ly,
Half eaten Limbs, and mangled Bodies by.
With Rapes and Thefts, and endless Murders cloy'd,
A fearful Plague, the Region they destroy'd.
Weathering the Point with favourable Gales,
Along the Shore the Conquering Navy Sails.
Into the rough
Hibernian Seas they came,
That howling Monsters, and dire Gulphs defame.
Which to avoid, close to the Shore they keep,
Where fair
Sabrina to her Parent Deep,
Drawing her silver Train along does glide,
Diluting with fresh Streams the Briny Tyde.
Lovely
Sabrina that for refluent Tydes,
Fair Cities, verdant Meadows, flow'ry Sides,
For Finn'd Inhabitants, and pleasant Streams,
Yields only to her fairer Sister
Thames.
Passing these Seas, they view the fertile Soil,
Till'd by
Silurian Farmers skilful Toil:
Where the vext Sea fair
Clamorgania laves,
And rolls along the Sand its foaming Waves.
[Page 142]Here
Rhemnius gliding by
Carphilli's Walls,
Proud of its
Roman strength, into the Ocean falls.
Then
Ratostibium from the hilly Lands,
Rolls down its rapid Tyde, and troubled Sands.
Next they descry an isle of wondrous Fame.
Which the succeeding Ages
Barry name.
In its high sides that to the Sea appear,
Dreadful to tell, th' astonish'd Saylors hear
Aetnean Labour, where the bellowing Rocks
Shake with Gigantick Toil, and Thundering Strokes
Of groaning
Smiths, sometimes a mighty sledge
On a vast Anvil, beats a flaming wedge.
Now Bellows form'd of vast, capacious Hydes,
All
Boreas blow from their
Aeolian sides.
Now the resisting Flames and Fiery Store,
By Winds assaulted, in wide Forges roar,
And raging Seas flow down of melted Oar.
Sometimes they hear long Iron Bars remov'd,
And to the sides, huge heaps of Cynders shov'd.
As we advanc'd the Coast in Prospect lay,
Which the
Dimetian Lords did then obey.
Here th' opening Land invites with outstretcht Arms,
The troubled Seas, free from the loud Alarms
Of the rough, windy Powers, to take their Ease,
And on its Bosom lye diffus'd in Peace.
The flowing Waters smooth their surrow'd Face,
And gently roll into the Land's Embrace.
To secret Creeks the weary Billows creep,
And stretcht on
Oazy Beds securely sleep.
No happy Land along th'
European Coast,
Can such a fair and spacious Haven boast.
In this wide Station, the
Dimetians pride,
The biggest Ships, and greatest Fleets may ride,
Safe from the Insults of the Winds and Tide.
[Page 135]Two lofty
Castles with their gilded Towers,
Inlighten, and defend the subject Shores.
Here the Victorious
Britons safe arrive,
With all the Joy, long-wish'd for Harbours give.
In frequent Throngs the glad
Dimetians stand
Upon the Coast, thick as th' unnumber'd Sand.
Their Acclamations and loud Shouts rebound,
From trembling Hills, and shake the Shores around.
The Ships lay rocking, and their Masts bend more
With
Britons Breath, than with the Winds before.
The joyful
Britons and their Friends debark,
And near the Shore a spacious Camp they mark.
The pious Prince at a fair Castle staid,
That
Malgo the
Dimetian Lord obey'd.
Now her brown Wings the silent Night displays
Light sprinkled o'er with
Cynthia's silver Rays.
Silence and Darkness all to Rest invite,
And sleep's soft Chains make fast the Gates of Light.
Prince
Arthur sleeps, by Summons from on high,
From trembling Joynts his active Spirits fly
To the round Palace of th' Immortal Soul,
And thro' the Rooms and dark Apartments roll.
The busie Crowd fills all the labouring Brain,
Bright Fancy's Work-house, where close Cells contain
Of Forms and Images an endless Train,
Which thither thro' the waking Senses glide,
And in fair Mem'ry's Magazine abide.
Compos'd of these, light Scenes and Shows appear,
That still employ the restless Theater.
Divinely mov'd the Airy Figures take
Their several Ranks, and this bright Vision make.
Prince
Arthur on a verdant Eminence
Conversing with King
Uter stood, from whence
[Page 144]He views with wondring Eyes, great Lords and States,
Crown'd Heads, Victorious Princes, Potentates,
Heros and Heroines, a glorious Train,
That in long Order fill'd the subject Plain.
Prince
Arthur on the Royal Scene intent,
Demands what this August Assembly meant.
For what end thither come, and who they were
That at th' Illustrious Congress did appear.
King
Uter then reply'd: Know pious Son,
That after various bloody Battels won,
You Beauteous
Ethelina shall espouse,
The fairest Branch of all King
Octa's house.
A Christian Princess of a Pagan Line,
Whose Virtues equal with her Beauty shine.
You shall Triumphant mount the
British Throne,
Which has not yet, so great a Monarch known.
Swell not with Pride, th' Imperial Seat you gain,
Brings envy'd Honour, but unenvy'd Pain.
Your People rule with equal Laws, and know
You're happy, when you make your Subjects so.
Let them a Good, Indulgent Father find,
Be mercifully Just, severely Kind.
Let your bright Virtues Imitators draw,
Glorious Examples have more Force, then Law.
Seek not an uncontroll'd and lawless Sway,
Subjects from Love, but Slaves from Fear obey.
And whom the People fear, they quickly hate,
Which Passions in their Prince the like Create.
Hence mutual Jealousies, and deep Designs,
Hence strong Distrust the mould'ring State disjoyns.
Diffusing good on all Mankind, you'll show
You imitate Heav'n's Government below.
And the Deliverer's greater than the King.
Believe no Foreign hostile Power can move
Your Throne, supported by your Subjects Love.
The bright Assembly that surrounds the Hill,
And with their Numbers all the Vally fill,
Are
Albion's Hero's, who in future days
Their own, and
Albion's Name, to Heav'n shall raise.
The Regal Orders that the rest outshine
With glittering Crowns, are the Imperial Line,
That after you, on
Albion's Throne shall sit,
Their Names in Fate's Eternal Volumes writ.
The Kings that in the foremost Rank appear,
Who frowning and unpleasant Aspects were;
Whose waning Crowns with faded Lustre shine,
Shall after you succeed, first
Constantine
Conanus, and the rest of
British Line.
These look not with their Native Splendour bright,
But dimly shine, with delegated Light.
Heroick Deeds by great Forefathers done,
Cast all their Glory on them, not their own.
To narrow Bounds their scanty Empire shrinks,
And
Britons Grandeur, with their Virtue sinks.
At last their Crimes, offended Heav'n provoke,
To Crush their Nation with the
Saxon Yoke.
Here
Arthur sigh'd, that his degenerate Race,
Should with inglorious Deeds their Stock debase.
When
Uter cry'd, Observe the
Saxon Line,
Where mighty Kings the
British Rank outshine.
Crowns on their Heads, and Scepters in their Hand,
All great in War, and born for high Command.
[Page 146]Their Arms the
British Empire shall Assail,
And aided by the
Britons Crimes prevail.
This mighty Nation quickly shall believe
The Christians God, and Heav'nly Light receive.
That's
Ethelbert the first of
Saxon Race,
That shall pure Faith, and Truth Divine embrace.
He shall destroy in their own Temples Flames,
Their sensless Gods, of barb'rous, Northern Names.
In vain their Priests on helpless Idols call,
They, and their Groves by the same Axes fall.
Fragments of broken Altars, and the spoil
Of ruin'd Gods, fill all th' applauding Isle.
All shall adore the great mysterious King,
And of his Cross the glorious Triumphs sing.
The Spring of Life gilded with Heav'nly Beams
Purge guilty Minds, with pure Baptismal Streams.
From hence the Light shall break that shall dispell
The
Pagan Shades, that on the
Saxons dwell.
Proud
Lucifer subdu'd, flies in despair,
With all th' Infernal Powers about the Air,
That with their broad, extended Wings retreat,
To seek a safe, and unmolested Seat:
To fix on
Scythian Hills their gloomy Throne,
Or on the Sands fry'd by the burning
Zone.
As when the
Storks prepare to change their Clime,
The long-neck'd Nation in the Air sublime
Wheeling, and towring up in Circles fly,
And with their cackling Cries disturb the Sky.
In lingring Clouds they hang, and Leisure give,
For all their feather'd People to arrive.
To th' Airy Rendezvous all hast away,
And their known Leaders noisy Call obey.
Then thro' the Heav'ns their trackless Flight they take,
And for new Worlds, their present Seats forsake.
[Page 147]So here the Fiends assembled in the Air,
Quit
Albion's Soil, and to wild Lands repair.
Remark that Prince, that in the midst appears,
Seven bright imperial Diadems he wears;
That's the great
Egbert, whose heroick Might,
Shall the dismember'd Island reunite.
His Arms shall give him universal Sway,
And all the
Saxons shall his Power obey.
See there the great
Northumberian Monarch stands,
Edwine his Name that all the Isle commands.
A happy Prince, if his good Angel's Art
Diverts the
Mercian Ruffian's bloody Dart.
Saxons and
Britons shall obey his Arms,
Himself, the lovely
Ethelburga Charms.
Her beauteous Eyes the mighty Monarch fire
Her Words, his Soul with
Christian Flames inspire.
Blest
Ethelburga of unrival'd Worth,
That plants Religion in the barren North.
See
Alfred there, all shall his Praises sing,
A pious Souldier, and an humble King.
Hero and
Bard, able in lofty Verse
His own great Deeds, and Triumphs to reherse.
Obey'd by all his unresisted Arms,
Shall to their Coasts repel the
Danish Swarms.
Into the Seas swept by his potent Hand,
Those
Northern Locusts leave th' afflicted Land.
The People his wife Laws shall cultivate,
Form their rude Minds, and smooth th' unpolish'd State.
Upon the Verdant Plain where
Isis Streams
Hast to th' Embraces of her Sister
Thames.
[Page 148]This mighty Prince shall a fam'd Empire Found,
Where Learning sits with branching Laurels Crown'd.
Where sacred Arts with all their Letter'd Train,
In lofty Schools shall unmolested Reign.
Banish'd from
Greece and
Rome, no safe Retreat
They'll find, till setled in this Peaceful Seat.
Ages to come, this Seat will
Oxford name,
Of which no Time, or Place, shall bound the Fame.
Remotest Nations shall her Wonders know,
Far as Great
Britain's potent Navies go.
Learning, her Native growth shall Strangers fetch,
And taught by her, their own rude Countries teach.
Th' admiring World shall
Albion then adore,
Revere her Armies, but her Learning more.
As when the Wisdom of th' Eternal Mind,
Rude
Chaos labour'd, and the Mass refin'd;
The scatter'd Rays that wander'd in the Air,
Did to the Sun's capacious Orb repair;
The shining Colonies pour'd thick around
Here fixt, and did a glorious Empire Found.
So here the broken Beams of glimmering Arts,
Assembling all their Light from distant parts,
To make bright
Oxford's Luminary stay,
That o'er the World shall spread Celestial Day.
Remark
Elfeda there, a Martial Dame,
That by her Arms shall win Immortal Fame.
At last the Princes of the
Saxon Line,
From Heav'nly Love and Purity decline.
Their Christian Virtues, and pure Zeal abate,
And with them sickens their decaying State.
With Christian Names, their Pagan Crimes they keep,
And deaf to Heav'n's loud Threats securely sleep.
[Page 149]Till the fierce
Dane sent by supream Command,
A vengeful Scourge does on their Borders Land.
The
Saxon's Guardian Angels call'd away,
Leave them to hostile Arms, an easie Prey.
Thus Heav'n afflicts a Land, when Impious grown,
And from their Throne pulls haughty Monarchs down.
This dreadful Curse, shall by relenting Heav'n,
Be soon from sad
Britannia's Empire driv'n.
The Cruel, slothful
Dane shall soon decline,
To make way for a nobler
Norman Line.
That Prince observe, that moves with so much Grace,
Is the great
William of the
Norman Race.
A mighty Prince, a Leader Brave, and Wise,
Whose towring Fame shall soar above the Skies.
Heav'n does for him
Britannia's Crown design,
From which great Stock shall branch a numerous Line
Of mighty Princes, that shall Rule this Isle,
Enriching it with Conquer'd Nations Spoil.
The Valiant second
Henry, see him there,
What Majesty does in his Looks appear?
Through wild
Hibernia he shall force his way,
And add four Kingdoms to the
British Sway.
Brave
Richard see, who from the sacred Coast,
Shall drive the Barb'rous, Unbelieving Host.
In
Gaul this Monarch's Arms shall be renown'd,
Dreaded in Battel, and with Conquest Crown'd,
Long time in Peace his Crown might be enjoy'd.
Could he the Arrow at
Chaluz, avoid.
Now, Son, your Eye to that brave Warriour turn,
Whose Beams so much the
Norman Line adorn.
[Page 150]How great a Presence, what a Port he bears?
How much a mighty Conq'rour he appears?
That Prince is
Edward, whose Victorious Arms
Iudea save from
Pagan Foes Alarms.
How he returns thro' the
Trinacrian Isle,
Thro' high
Parthenope's delicious Soil,
Thro' loud Applauses of admiring
Rome,
Reeking in hostile Blood triumphant home!
The beauteous Person next that Monarch seen,
Is
Eleonora his Illustrious Queen.
In Storms she's with him on the Ocean tost,
To seek out horrid War on
Asia's Coast.
Midst barbarous Arms his Wife, Adviser, Friend,
She his prodigious Labours shall attend.
And when her Lord, so Heav'n permits, shall feel
Within his Veins, the Murd'rer's poison'd Steel.
She to the spreading Plague her Lips applies,
And gives that Ease, which
Asia's Balm denies.
Invading Death her healing Kisses charm,
And with new Life the sinking Monarch warm.
No other Prince that in this Age shall reign,
Shall equal Honour to brave
Edward's Gain,
But great
Adolphus of th' Illustrious Race
Of Heros, which the House of
Nassau Grace.
This mighty Prince shall gain th' Imperial Sway,
And wide
Germania shall his Laws obey.
The God-like Virtues, and Heroick Fire,
That shall the brave
Nassovian House inspire,
Shall make
Adolphus shine in this high Sphear,
Preluding to the great Deliverer
The pious
William; yonder he's in Sight,
In whom
Nassovian Blood, and ours unite.
There war-like
Edward stands, that with his Host,
Shall cross the Ocean to the
Gallick Coast.
Where he his Conquering Ensigns shall display,
And make the haughty
Franks his Laws obey.
There Queen
Philippa shines, th'
Albanians Dread,
Worthy of
Britain's Crown, and
Edward's Bed.
While Forraign Kingdoms
Edward's Arms subdue;
Hers thro' the North the vanquish'd
Seats pursue.
See the Black Prince in Armour by her side,
Proud
Gallia's Terrour, and fair
Albion's Pride.
What Triumphs wait him in
Pictavian Fields?
What never-fading Laurels
Croissy yields?
That
Henry mark, the glorious Conquerour,
That
Gallia shall reduce by
Albion's Power.
Immortal Prince, if Arms can make thee so,
For thee in
Norman Fields what Laurels grow?
How great he'll seem his Arms distain'd with Blood,
Chasing the
Franks o'er
Sein's affrighted Flood.
At
Agencourt what Wonders shall be done,
What Towns of Force, what Battels shall be won,
Before in Triumph he ascends their Throne?
Our Blood the Royal Channel now regains,
Deriv'd thro'
Tudor our brave Offspring's Veins;
Which with the
Norman joyn'd, the Confluent Tide
As long, as that of Time, shall downward glide.
From their Embrace to rule
Britannia springs,
A glorious Race of Queens, and potent Kings.
See, the first
Tudor that ascends the Throne,
After the glorious Field at
Bosworth won.
The Scepter he shall sway with great Applause,
And Rule the Isle with Wise and Equal Laws.
[Page 152]Young
Edward there,
Albion's Delight appears
Learn'd, Pious, Manly Wise above his years.
Then Liberty in all her lovely Charms,
Shall sit secure from Tyranny's Alarms.
Religion purg'd from
Rome's Adulterous Stain,
Shall in her pure, and Native Splendor Reign.
No greater Mind to
Albion's Crown succeeds,
Rever'd for Brave, and lov'd for Pious Deeds.
Blest
Albion, if kind Heav'n would long permit
So great a Monarch, on thy Throne to sit.
But, oh, how short Delights attend him here,
Such Heav'nly Guests are shown, and disappear.
Dear both to Earth and Heav'n, he'll soon remove
His Throne from hence, to Reign in Bliss above.
With what Complaints, with what despairing Cries,
Shall sad
Britannia Mourn his Obsequies?
There, see, the bright
Elizabetha rise,
Inlightning with her Rays the
British Skies.
Th' Indulgent Parent of her People, she
Loves, Feeds, and Guards
Britannia's Family.
Heav'n's and her People's Rights she shall protect,
And for
Britannia's Ease, her own neglect.
Her Sons she shall embrace with pious Care,
And from her Coasts send back th'
Iberian War.
Blest times, when she that wears th' Imperial Crown,
Regards her Peoples Safety, as her own.
Intently now on that great Monarch gaze,
So much distinguish'd by his brighter Rays.
This is the Man, the brave
Nassovian, whom
I nam'd, the great Deliverer to come.
Succeeding Prophets under your great Name,
This our great Offspring shall aloud proclaim;
[Page 153]Rais'd from a noble Branch of
Tudor's Line,
From
Thamisis transplanted to the
Rhine.
Amaz'd Posterity, will scarce believe
The wond'rous Deeds this Hero shall atchieve.
The
European World by
Rome and
Gaul opprest,
By his long-wish'd-for Arms shall be releast.
He'll far outshine his own Heroick Race,
Europe's Protectors, who shall Tyrants chase,
And Monsters vanquish with
Herculean Toil,
And rescue from their bloody Jaws, their Spoil.
The beardless Hero's first victorious Arms,
Shall free his Country from the
Gauls Alarms.
As he advances, Seas of
Gallick Blood
Shall with red Streams swell
Mosa's wondring Flood.
Their slaughter'd Ranks shall lie along the
Rhine,
And with strange Purple stain th' astonish'd Vine.
For in this Age
Just Heav'n shall cause a haughty Prince to rise,
Cruel, as
Lucifer, and like him wise.
Heav'n's Laws, and Power, the Tyrant shall deride,
Breaking in Sport, the Oaths wherewith he's tide.
Th' insatiate Monster pleas'd with humane Gore,
And urg'd with Hellish Rage, shall first devour
His
Gallick Slaves, and with a merc'less Hand,
Spread fearful Ruin o'er his fruitful Land.
Raging with Fire and Sword he shall invade
His Neighbour's Cities, to his Gold betray'd.
No Spoil, no Carnage, shall his Fury cloy,
But drunk with Blood, he shall around destroy,
Like spreading Fires, or Torrents roaring down,
From melting Snows, that all the Vally drown.
Like Hell, he shall derive his chiefest Joy,
From the divine Permission to destroy.
[Page 154]Mischief and Ruin, he shall Conquest name,
And from Destruction raise a dismal Fame.
Regions laid wast, Orphans and Widdows Cries,
Proclaim his Power, and barb'rous Victories.
So dire a Plague, shall Heav'n permit to reign,
To scourge the impious World, but to restrain
The savage Spoiler, shall this Prince employ;
Monsters grow up, for Heros to destroy.
The valiant Youth sinking
Batavia saves,
Their surest Digue against the
Gallick Waves.
After opprest
Britannia shall invite,
The fam'd Deliverer to assert her Right.
His Arms the lowring Tempest shall dispel,
That threatning
Albion, rolls from
Rome and Hell.
Fair Liberty her drooping Head shall rear,
And blest Religion on her Throne appear.
His Reign fresh Life to
Albion shall impart,
And teach her Sons War's long-forgotten Art.
Britons dissolv'd in soft, inglorious Ease,
In courtly Vices, and luxurious Peace,
He shall inspire with a new martial Flame,
And lead them on, to gain their Ancient Fame.
Now
Albion's Youth polish their rusty Arms,
And once more,
Gallia dreads their loud Alarms.
Victorious
Britons, as of old, shall come
Laden with Spoils, and crown'd with Laurels, home.
He ceas'd; but near the great
Nassovian stood
A Heroine, by mien of Royal Blood.
Her Form Divine, and Seraph-like her Face
Where Heav'nly Sweetness, strove with Princely Grace.
But a black Cloud on her fair Temples lies,
And on the ground she fixt her beauteous Eyes.
[Page 155]Prince
Arthur on th' Illustrious Form Intent,
Ask'd who she was, and what the Sadness meant,
That her dejected Eyes did overspread,
What the thick Mist that hover'd round her Head.
King
Uter with Reluctance thus replies,
While flowing Tears gush'd from his mournful Eyes,
Ah, Son, demand no more their Fates to know,
That must produce such universal Woe.
Telling that Offspring's Story, I reveal
A Scene of Grief, I labour'd to conceal.
This Wonder to the World, as soon as shown,
Is taken up to her Celestial Throne.
Ah! what sad Accents, what a mournful Cry,
What lamentable Sounds will fill the Sky,
When her high Herse shall from her Palace go
Thro' weeping Throngs, in all the Pomp of Woe.
So sad a Cry did wondring
Nile affright,
When
Egypt's first-born Youth were slain by Night.
What Strains of Sorrow will
Augusta show?
What Floods of Tears, sad
Thamisis, will flow
Into thy Stream, while gliding by the Dome,
Where fresh erected stands her lofty Tomb.
Son, mind her Presence, what a God-like Air?
What Throngs of Graces in her Eyes appear?
No nobler Genius, no well fashion'd Mind
E'er took a Turn more happily design'd,
From an Etherial Mould more labour'd and refin'd.
Mild as the blest above, without serene
As
Eden's Air, and calm as Heav'n within.
No lovelyer Star adorns the
British Sphear,
Ah! might she longer in her Orb appear,
That her Celestial Influence might Flow
In chearing Streams on all the Isle below!
[Page 156]New warmth to
Albion her kind Beams afford,
To
Albion guarded, as before restor'd,
By the
Nassovian Angel's flaming Sword.
My fairest Offspring! ah, her rigid Doom!
She shall
Maria be: Come, quickly come,
Bring me white Lillies, Roses newly blown,
Lillies and Roses, like
Maria's own.
These on her Herse I'll scatter, and perfume
With od'rous Herbs and Flowers the precious Tomb.
Let me my Sorrow thus express, 'tis true,
A fruitless Deed, but all that Love can do.
The Tides of Grief that here swell'd
Arthur's Breast,
Broke Sleeps soft Fetters, and dissolv'd his Rest.
The Airy Objects, that without did wait,
Now rush in by the Senses open Gate.
His waking Thought, the wondrous Scene reviews,
And various Passions in his Mind renews.
NOw in the East the Saffron Morn arose,
And call'd the Lab'rer from his soft repose.
Thro' all the Region flew Loquacious Fame;
And the glad tydings spread, where'er she came.
Prince
Arthur's Landed, is the general Cry,
Straight to their Arms the chearful
Britons fly.
The great Restorer all prepare to meet,
And warlike Noise resounds in every Street.
His eager Friends impatient of delay,
Had long expected this Auspicious Day.
They knew he was Embark'd to bring them Aid,
And for his quick, and safe Arrival pray'd.
Oft on the Rocks and highest Hills they stood,
And all around the Subject Ocean view'd
With longing Eyes, hoping the sight to gain
Of
Arthur's Conquering Navy on the Main.
And when no Fleet, no
Arthur they descry'd,
They chid the Winds, and interposing Tyde.
With less impatience staid th'
Ithacian Dame,
Till to her Arms her wish'd
Ulysses came.
The
Sestian Maid not with such Passion stood,
To spy her Lover cutting thro' the Flood.
The Zealous Men while adverse
Boreas reign'd,
And from the Coasts Prince
Arthur's Fleet detain'd,
Began to streak the dusky Face of Night,
Oft from their Beds, up to the Windows flew,
And thence the Fanes and flying Clouds would view,
To see if yet more favourable Gales
Rose from the South, to swell Prince
Arthur's Sails.
Anxious they look around, but when they find
Their hopes retarded by an adverse Wind,
Their Sorrow in repeated Sighs exprest,
They to their Beds return, but not to Rest.
Thus they expected
Arthur's powerful Aid,
And such their Sorrow was, their Hopes delay'd.
But now, at last the Prince's Fleet arriv'd,
Raises their Courage, and their Hopes reviv'd.
The joyful Throngs Prince
Arthur's Praise proclaim,
This every Tongue employs, ev'n Children aim,
That scarce have learn'd to speak, to lisp his Name.
Some praise his Stature, and his God-like Face,
His awful Presence, and Majestick Grace,
His Courage some, and Conduct in the Field,
And think great
Caesar's Fame to his, must yield.
His Clemency and Pity some admire,
And all the Virtues, that his Mind inspire.
The Actions of his Childhood some repeat,
In which they still discover'd something Great.
And now, what they expected he appears,
The Hero promis'd in his tender years.
Others relate the ancient Prophecies,
Wherein was told a Monarch should arise
Of mighty Power, and Universal Fame,
That should to Heav'n advance the
British Name.
Things weigh'd, and well compar'd, they all consent
Arthur's the Conq'rour, that the Prophets meant.
[Page 159]Some tell their Friends, their Courage to support,
What mighty Guards surround the Prince's Court.
What Succours hir'd were from
Germania brought,
Succours, as oft Victorious, as they fought.
Fierce
Alpine Allobrogs with slaughter fed,
In Snows and everlasting Winter bred.
Men of stupendous Bulk, pamper'd and cloy'd
With Blood of Nations, which their Arms destroy'd.
Arm'd with broad, flaming Swords, and mighty Spears;
Their Caps were Wolves, their Coats rough Skins of Bears.
Who stretcht on Beds did n'er their Limbs repose,
But from the naked ground still vig'rous rose.
Of Aspect terrible, their squallid Face
Thick, matted Beards with bristly Terrour grace.
None e'er escap'd, that did their Arms provoke,
They Mow whole Squadrons with a single stroke.
This monstrous Kind of Men did Fame invent,
And
Arthur's Troops so dreadful represent,
To raise the
Britons Hearts before deprest,
And strike a Terrour thro' the
Saxon's Breast.
With Joy transported all for Arms declare,
And all the Accoutrements of War prepare.
The Shepherds on the Hills forsake their Flocks,
And leave their brouzing Goats upon the Rocks.
Instead of Crooks, that did their Flocks command,
Long warlike Spears they brandish in their Hand.
The
British Youth their Courage rais'd, rejoyce
To see the Banners fly, and hear the Trumpet's Voice.
The Farmers leave the Hopes their Field afford,
To reap fresh Laurels with their Conquering Sword.
The noise of War does from the Hills rebound,
And midst the Miners Eccho's under ground.
Who straight alarm'd, at nobler Labour Sweat,
And into Swords their glowing Metal beat.
[Page 160]Their Forges, Anvils and wide Bellows breath,
Are all employ'd in various kinds of Death.
Some shape the Halbert, and broad Fauchion's Blade,
And Darts by some, and Arrows Heads are made.
Some forming Battle-Axes heave the Sledge,
Some into Shields strike out a flaming Wedge.
To fashion Helmets some the Hammer ply,
Some labour, Pieces for the Leg and Thigh.
With Lances arm'd, some their hot Coursers rein,
And to the War Curvet along the Plain.
Some with their clenching Gauntlets grasp the Shield,
Shake their long Spears, and rush into the Field.
Across their Shoulders some their Quivers hung,
Their Arrows trim'd, and Bows for Death new strung.
As when black Clouds dark'ning the Summer Sky,
Loaded with Crystal Tempests slowly fly,
Th' Artillery discharg'd with mighty Sound
Th' exploded Hailstones, leap upon the ground,
Thunder amidst the Woods, and from the Hills rebound.
So with the
Britons all the Region swarms,
So thick their Troops, so loud the noise of Arms.
The groaning Earth complains, and trembling feels
The trampling Hoofs, and Chariots fervid Wheels.
In order now, Celestial Muse, declare
What Troops, and who those ancient
Britons were,
Who for their Country's Liberty combin'd,
And their Brigades with
Arthur's Forces joyn'd.
From Time's dark Prisons set the Hero's free,
And may their glorious Names Immortal be,
First warlike
Cadwall the
Dimetians Head,
His Forces from the neighbouring Region led.
[Page 161]Their Troops advance from the bleak Northern Shore,
On which the
Hybernian Sea's loud Billows roar.
And where
Octopitarum thro' the Waves
Wedging his Way, the opposing Ocean braves.
Fair
Maridunum pours her Squadrons forth,
Where the fam'd Sorc'rer
Merlin had his Birth.
They came who dwelt round high
Plinlimmon's Sides,
Where
Stuccia flows, and swift
Turobius glides.
King
Meridoe the
Oordovican leads
Down from the
British Alps, whose snowy Heads
Imaus like, stand towring in the Air,
And midst the Stars eternal Winter bear.
And from the Soil lav'd by
Conovius Flood,
And
Menai's Banks, where then
Segontium stood.
Great Numbers swarm'd from
Mona's noble Isle,
Deform'd for Aspect, but of fertile Soil.
Where once in shady Groves erected stood,
The
Druids Altars stain'd with humane Blood.
The Troops their March from
Mediolanum take,
From
Helen's Way, and the
Tegeian Lake.
Thro' which fair
Deva's Streams so swiftly pass,
They uncorrupted shun th' impure Embrace.
Here the sublime
Mervinian Mountains rise,
And with sharp-pointed Tops transfix the Skies.
Next
Morogan the bold,
Silures brought,
None for their Country's Freedom better fought.
They bravely
Valens and his Troops withstood,
And dy'd
Sabrina's Streams with
Roman Blood.
With like Success
Veranius they defeat,
And forc'd his vanquish'd Eagles to retreat.
This cause, as much their Courage did provoke,
To free their Country from the Saxon Yoke.
[Page 162]They take in hast their Swords and Bucklers down,
And march to meet the Prince from every Town.
From all the Cities on the verdant side
Of
Nidus, and on
Loghor's Crystal Tyde.
They march from
Bovium, and the neighboring Shore,
Thick, as the Waves, that there insulting roar.
Down from the Hilly Lands the
Britons came,
Which now th' Inhabitants
Brechinia name.
Where the black Mount stands lofty in the Air,
And forky
Peak, since call'd great
Arthur's Chair.
They march from
Bulleum, Haga, and the Lake,
Where when broad Sheets of Ice dissolving crack,
The ratling Noise rebounds from Neighb'ring Hills,
And with loud Thunder all the Region fills.
From
Ariconium, and the flowry Space,
VVhich wanton
Vaga's winding Arms embrace.
Where
Lugus his transparent Bosom spreads,
And where
Liddenus murmurs thro' the Meads.
Where thick
Hesperian Woods with Apples crown'd,
Of golden Hue, enrich the Fields around.
Which the most generous
British Wine produce,
Ausonia scarce affords a nobler Juice.
They leave the Fields fam'd for the purest Corn,
And the rich Plains that Wooly Flocks adorn,
Which bless the Farmer with a nobler Fleece,
Than what
Apulia boasts, or fertile
Greece.
They leave the golden Vale, and happy Ground
Which
Dorus laves, and lofty Woods surround,
The warlike Youth from
Venta came and those
That
Muno's Flood and
Isca's Streams inclose.
With those that round the
Oazy Moor are bred,
And near the Golden Rocks refulgent Head.
Out from her Gates her Youth fair
Isca pours.
Crown'd with gilt Spires, rich Domes, and lofty Towers.
[Page 163]Where Golden Roofs, and checker'd Floors abound,
Deep Vaults, and spacious Chambers under ground.
A stately Theater the Town o'erlooks,
And noble Works convey the neighb'ring Brooks,
By Conquering
Romans built, that far from home
They might enjoy the Sports and Pomp of
Rome.
Such was the ample City's ancient Fame,
Now worn by time it scarce preserves its Name.
Those from
Gobanium march, a Town that stood
On
Isca's and
Gevini's confluent Flood.
In cheerful Troops the stout
Cornavians came,
From the rich Soil we now
Salopia name.
From either side of fair
Sabrina's Tyde,
Whose silver Streams the fruitful Land divide.
From
Usocona, end the Towns that lay
On the fam'd
Roman Military way.
From
Uriconium, yet a Noble Town,
And old
Rutunium, then of good Renown.
Galbut their Leader at their Head appears
A lovely Youth, and Wise above his Years:
Descended from a Noble ancient Race
Of Heros, who the
British Annals grace.
He by Forefathers Beams Illustrious shone,
Great by their Deeds, but greater by his own.
Zeal for his Country, and the
British Cause,
The generous Youth to glorious Danger draws.
For this he crost the Ocean, to implore
Prince
Arthur's Arms, their Freedom to restore.
The Prince embrac'd him, as his Fav'rite Friend,
And did his Zeal and Vigilance commend.
He staid the dear Companion of his Toil,
Both on the Seas, and on th'
Armorick Soil.
And when the
Saxon, and the
British Fleet,
(A dreadful day) did on the Ocean meet,
[Page 164]By
Arthur's side upon the Deck, he stood
Distain'd with scatter'd Brains, and reeking Blood.
The Youth at danger unconcern'd appear'd,
And nothing but his Country's Suff'rings fear'd.
He leap'd out first on the
Dimetian Strand,
And welcom'd
Arthur to his Native Land.
Where taking leave, he to his Country came,
To Head his Men, and win yet greater Fame.
Devana sends brave Troops, a noble Town,
For lofty Works, and splendid Structures known.
Where once the
Roman Conquerours did reside,
And envy'd not
Italia's Wealth and Pride.
The bold Inhabitants on
Deva's Bank,
And they who
Danus, and
Merseia drank;
With those that had their Seats, along the Soil
Which Briny Riches gives with easie Toil;
Draw out and Muster on the Neighb'ring Plain,
Resolv'd the
British Honour to regain.
Bothan their Captain was a Warlike Knight,
A brave Asserter of his Country's Right.
A noble, but ungovernable Fire,
(Such is the Hero's) did his Breast inspire.
His honest Rage, his Friends could scarcely Rule,
Hot for the Camp, but not for Counsel Cool.
Fit to assist to pull a Tyrant down,
But not to please the Prince that mounts the Throne.
Impatient of Oppression, still he stood
His Country's Mounds, against th' invading Flood.
Impetuous, as a Tempest in its Course,
He not to Conduct trusted, but to Force.
Unskill'd in Court Intreagues, on which the wise
And crafty Statesman, as his strength, relies;
Should follow Brav'ry, and a Righteous Cause,
His Country prais'd him; no
Britannick Lord,
Was as his People's Patron more ador'd.
And Now in Arms they throng about their Head,
None to the Prince such numerous Forces led.
The
Coritanians, that the Soil possest,
By fair
Darventio's fruitful Waters blest,
And
Repandunum, where clear
Trenta's Tide
Do's into
Dovo's silver Bosome glide.
Those near high
Peak, in heavenly Waters drown'd,
And in the Dale, which craggy Rocks surround;
Their Zeal and Courage rais'd by loud Alarms,
Forsook their Seats, and Fields, and flew to Arms.
These valiant Men that Fame and Freedom sought,
To join the Prince's Arms
Canvallo brought.
Noble
Canvallo, who did with him bring
The Majesty, and Presence of a King.
Of lofty Stature, and a graceful Air,
By's own Sex fear'd, and favour'd by the Fair.
Th' Inglorious Pleasures of the wanton Court,
That drain'd his Wealth, did not the Patriot hurt,
Fit for the Camp, or Business of the State,
But soft Enjoyments Love to both abate.
Alarm'd with Publick Danger, he arose
Like a rous'd Lyon, from his long Repose.
Arm'd, and equip'd with gaeat Magnificence,
He mounts his fiery Turk, bought at a vast Expence.
His princely Train, and splendid Equipage,
Wher'ere he past the Eyes of all engag'd.
The
Atrebatians From the happy Land,
Which then sublime
Gallena did command.
[Page 166]Where winding
Thamisis does bless the Soil,
The Wealth and Glory of the
British Isle.
In War-like Bands advance to
Arthur's Aid,
And rich
Bertudor, as their Head obey'd,
Who still against the Pagan Interest strove,
Rich in Possessions, and his People's Love.
His happy Tenants, and the Farmers round,
His Hospitable House still open found.
Each Week ten Oxen from the Stall he drew,
A hundred Sheep, and forty Swine he slew;
Fat Venison, Fowl, and Fish, an endless Store,
To feed his Guests, his Servants, and the Poor.
He to the Woods, and Forrests was inclin'd,
To hunt the Fox, and chase the flying Hind.
Pleas'd with his Friends, and with his rural Sport,
He wisely shun'd, the Dangers of the Court.
But for the Christian Cause, and publick Peace,
He quits the Forrests, and his Wealth and Ease.
His Helmet brac'd, and on his Arm his Shield,
He march'd before his Troops into the Field.
And that my Verse may to his Name be just,
Of all the Lords
Bertudor was the first,
That to the Camp, his valiant Forces brought,
Tho' not inur'd to War, and tho' remote.
The
Durotriges from the western Coast,
Where the
Britannick Ocean's Waves are tost.
Their Troops assembled, for the Prince declare,
And march from all the Towns, to meet the War.
From
Dornavaria, and the Seats that stand
On
Froma's Stream, and wealthy
Blackmoor Land:
From
Vendogladia, and the Tow'rs that rose
On the fat Glebe, where pleasant
Stourus flows.
[Page 167]
Sakil their Leader, an Illustrious Peer,
Was to his Prince, and to his Country dear.
He their
Maecenas cheers the
British Bards,
Learns them to Sing, and then their Songs rewards.
So Heav'n to makes Men good, does Grace bestow,
And then rewards them for their being so.
Him as their Head the
Athenian Sons adore,
The Muses Fav'rite, but the People's more.
To form great Men, his Palace was the School,
His Life good Breeding's, and good Nature's Rule.
To him the needy Men of Wit resort,
And find a Friend in an unletter'd Court.
The Poets Nation, did Obsequious wait
For the kind Dole, divided at his Gate.
Laurus amidst the meagre Crowd appear'd,
An old, revolted, unbelieving Bard,
Who throng'd, and shov'd, and prest, and would be heard.
Distinguish'd by his louder craving Tone,
So well to all the Muses Patrons known,
He did the Voice of modest Poets drown.
Sakil's high Roof, the Muses Palace rung
With endless Cries, and endless Songs he sung.
To bless good
Sakil Laurus would be first,
But
Sakil's Prince, and
Sakil's God he curst.
Sakil without distinction threw his Bread,
Despis'd the Flatt'rer, but the Poet fed.
His Sword the Muses great Defender draws,
T' assert
Britannia's, and Religion's Cause.
Orson their Head, the bold
Brigantes brings,
Subject of late, to the
North-Saxon Kings.
Now for their Liberty they boldly speak,
And thro' the Foe, to joyn Prince
Arthur, break.
With noble Heats, and Martial Thoughts inspir'd.
None in the Field did greater Courage show,
Whither he charg'd, or else sustain'd the Foe.
Yet none more fit in Council to preside,
And in a Storm, the lab'ring State to guide.
A mighty Genius of uncommon Mould,
As
Caesar Eloquent, as
Caesar Bold.
He could th' unstable People's Tumults stop,
And a declining Kingdom underprop.
Matur'd by Age, and business of the State,
The hoary Oracle in Council sate.
Where he the
British Nestor was esteem'd,
And all his Language, Inspiration seem'd.
This finish'd Statesman did the Prince perswade
To pass the Seas, the
Saxon to invade.
And at his Landing quick Assistance brought,
And for his Country none more bravely fought.
The farthest
Western Soil, which with their Wave
The
British, and
Hibernian Oceans lave.
From
Isca's Noble Stream, far as the Shore
Where round
Bolerium's Head the Billows roar,
By the
Danmonian Britons was possest,
And with King
Cador's, temperate Empire blest,
This war-like People, at their King's Command,
Now take up Arms, and muster thro' the Land.
The good King
Cador worn with War and Age,
No longer does the Foe in Arms engage.
Macor his Son supply'd the Father's Place,
Whose Virtues equal'd his Illustrious Race.
To serve Prince
Arthur, and his righteous Cause,
His Sword the brave
Danmonian Hero draws.
[Page 169]A beauteous Youth, whose Breast a strong desire
Of Fame, and Martial Glory did inspire.
Eager of War, he the
Danmonians led,
And shone in splendid Armour at their Head.
His coming, Joy to all the
Britons gives,
And in his Arms, the Prince his Friend receives.
To whom to be endear'd, he always strove,
By all expressions of Respect and Love.
The Valiant Youth he did with Honours grace,
To his high Merit due, and noble Race.
Macor, mean time, Prince
Arthur did adore,
None serv'd his Cause, or sought his Favour more.
Tracar, and
Ormes in the Camp arrive,
Whose Presence to the rest, fresh Courage give.
Their Wisdom was by Fame aloud proclaim'd,
The
Britons none with greater Honour nam'd.
Both fit about a Monarch to abide,
To aid his Counsels, and the State to guide.
None more admir'd for clear, unerring Sense,
For Piercing Sight, and charming Eloquence.
Great Spirits both, but of a different Mould,
Ormes impetuous, Turbulent, and Bold;
But
Tracar was compos'd, sedate, and cool,
His Passions subject to a stricter Rule.
Ormes was haughty, inaccessible,
And knew his Riches, and his Sense too well.
Tracar was courteous, easie of Access,
Of great Humanity, and mild Address.
Ormes was therefore honour'd not desir'd,
Tracar belov'd, and equally admir'd.
Ormes would still advance unbounded Power,
Tracar his Country's Liberty secure.
Both had by Birth, what Labour can't acquire.
Arthur to neither Rival Wit inclines,
But us'd them both, to serve his wise Designs.
Such Love the
Britons to the Prince exprest,
Who when he found his Numbers thus encreast,
Advanc'd his Ensigns, and to
Isca came,
Where the
Silures dwelt, the chief for Fame.
Hither fresh Squadrons to the Prince resort,
Which from that time is call'd great
Arthur's Court
Five times the Sun had his Diurnal Race
Compleated, when from this delightful place
The pious Prince his Ensigns mov'd, and came
To
Glevum, seated on
Sabrina's Stream.
Decamping hence, his arm'd Battalions gain
Prince
Arthur at their Head, the fertile Plain
By easie Marches, where
Gallena stood,
Which
Thamisis laves with its noble Flood.
Thus stood the
Britons, after his Defeat,
Octa with Grief did to his Coasts Retreat.
As when by chance a Royal Eagle spies,
From some high Mountains Top, amidst the Skies;
A flight of Swans, obscuring all the Air,
Swift as the Lightning, which he's said to bear,
Upon the Prey his Airy Flight he takes,
And with sharp Pounces vast Destruction makes.
Some fall struck dead, some wounded slowly fly,
While Snowy Clouds of Feathers fill the Sky.
Those that the fierce Invader's Strokes survive,
With all the speed, Fear to their Wings can give;
To their belov'd
Cayster's Banks return,
And in their reedy Seats, their Wounds and Losses mourn.
[Page 171]So far'd the
Saxons, and their shatter'd Fleet,
Octa forthwith Commands his Lords to meet
In Council, where they in long order sate
T' advise what best might save their threaten'd State.
Cissa first spoke, an able Counsellour
Let us assemble all our present power,
And straight advance the
Britons to Attack,
Who to our Arms can small Resistance make.
Sore with their Wounds, and weary with their Toil,
They tempt the
Saxons to an easie Spoil.
Boldly fall on, before their Troops are eas'd,
With Food and Rest, and with Recruits increas'd.
Your Wisdom thus, and Courage will appear,
Who tho defeated, have not learn'd to fear.
The Foe surpriz'd must to your Mercy yield,
Or to their Ships Retreating, quit the Field.
He ceas'd, then
Osred, who had always won
By his wise Counsel great Applause, begun:
Our late Defeat has too much Terrour strook,
Thro' all our Troops, too much our Empire shook,
And too much flesh'd the Foe, to let me joyn
In this Advice, my Counsels more incline
To draw into the Field our utmost Power
From all the
Saxon States, and to secure
Our Empire, let us labour to perswade
The
Pict, and
Scotish King, to give us Aid.
The Cause and Interest is the same of all,
They and their Gods, if we are crush'd, must fall.
Our Arms united in a numerous Host,
We may before of certain Conquest boast.
The trembling Foe unable to withstand
Such mighty Armies, will forsake the Land.
[Page 172]But if supported with vain hopes they stay,
They fall into our hands an easie Prey.
Pascentius next, a wise
Nestorian head,
Whose Looks, and Words profound Attention bred:
Thus spoke--'tis true our Troops while thus dismay'd,
And of Prince
Arthur's Fame, and Arms afraid,
From present Action justly may disswade.
Seeking the Foe we too great Danger run,
Embolden'd by his Victory lately won.
And thus far
Osred's Thoughts and mine you see
Conspire, as in the rest they disagree.
If with our utmost Force we meet our Foes,
To too much hazard we our State expose.
Th' uncertain Game of War they little know,
That Stake an Empire on a single Throw.
While we delay to gather all our Force,
And to the
Picts and
Scots, shall have recourse;
Prince
Arthur will advance, and mightier grow,
Like rolling Balls, that gather up the Snow,
Or Rivers taking Streams in, as they flow.
The
Britons led by ancient Prophecies,
Expect that near this time, a Prince shall rise
Heroick, Wise, a mighty Conqueror,
That all their lost Dominions shall restore,
And o'er the World, extend their Naval Power.
Something like this, our Augurs seem to fear,
From Prodigies, and Signs that oft appear.
Those hopes they all of
Arthur now express,
Drawn by his Fame abroad, and late Success.
While this Belief, tho' false, the
Briton warms,
He grows less fearful of the
Saxon Arms.
He'll be more bold in Fight, while thus inspir'd,
And with such Zeal, and Expectation fir'd.
And by bold Deeds, make their vain Fancies true.
He therefore serves King
Octa, that creates,
An Understanding first, between the States.
An Embassy may to the Prince be sent,
To treat how Blood and ruin to prevent,
They may propose the Kingdom to divide,
And offer
Octa's Daughter for his Bride,
Fair,
Ethelina, whose perverted Mind,
To
Christian Worship is too much inclin'd.
He ceas'd, and his Advice did chiefly please,
And of the Council most declar'd for Peace.
The Lords dispers'd, King
Octa unresolv'd,
Long in his Mind his troubled Thoughts revolv'd.
With strong contending Tydes of Passion prest,
Now War he looks on, now on Peace, as best.
Long he appear'd on
Osred's Counsel bent,
And to the Neighb'ring
Saxon Princes sent,
That all, the strong Necessity might know
Of joyning Arms, against the Common Foe.
At the same time an Embassy he sends,
To make the
Pict, and
Scotish King his Friends.
That of their powerful Aid he might not fail,
If
Arthur, and his
Britons should prevail.
But when he heard, that
Arthur had as far
As
Glevum's Walls, advanc'd the threatning War,
Observing that the
Saxons were dismaid,
And not yet strengthen'd by his Neighbours Aid,
He now declar'd, it was his setled Sense,
A Treaty with the
Briton to Commence.
Then Orators he sent without delay,
Who to the
Britons Camp direct their way.
For this Negotiation chieflly please.
Heldured of the Embassy was one,
Osrick and
Thedred noble
Ormar's Son.
Arriving at the Prince's Camp, they found
The
British Youth in Crowds disperst around.
For then with various Sports, and manly Play,
The
Britons solemniz'd, th' auspicious Day,
Of
Arthur's Birth, o'er all the Fields they spred,
To different Games, by different Passions led.
Here Chariots raising Clouds of Dust appear,
And run with smoaking Wheels their swift Career.
Here the robust
Danmonian Nation swarms,
Hurling their massy Balls with vig'rous Arms.
Here the
Dobunians to advance their Fame,
Toil at their Country's old laborious Game.
Long Ashen Staves across their Shoulders lie,
Then sway'd with both their Hands, strike thro the Sky.
A mounting Orb of Thongs, or well sow'd Hide,
While at due distance rang'd, on th' other Side
The Foe inclining stands, to wait its Fall,
And with like Force, strike Back the bounding Ball.
Incircled Wrestlers here their Manhood try,
And with loud Shouts, that rend the lab'ring Sky,
The standing Ring proclaims the Victory.
Some to a Cudgel prize their Fellows dare,
Who strait spring out to meet the wooden War.
They brandish in the Air their threat'ning Staves,
Their Hands, a woven Guard of Osier saves,
In which they fix their Hazel Weapon's End,
Thus arm'd, the nimble Combatants contend
For Conquest, giving and receiving Blows,
And down their Heads a crimson River flows.
[Page 175]Here flowry Garlands their proud Temples crown,
Whose airy Feet the Race had newly won.
Such were the
Britons Sports, as thro' the Throng
The
Saxon Orators pass'd slow along.
Who strait were to th' August Pavilion led,
Where
Arthur sate, his Lords around him spread.
To whom
Edburga thus,
The
Saxon King, whose ardent wishes are
To save
Britannia, from Destructive War.
Who rather seeks t' enjoy the Fruits of Peace,
Then by his Arms his Empire to encrease.
Makes such Advances for these glorious Ends,
As may the
Britons make his lasting Friends.
The
Saxons, and the
Britons shall command
Their equal Shares, of the divided Land.
Such Barrier shall be fixt, as shall secure
The
Britons, jealous of the
Saxon Power.
To give
Britannia Peace, we condescend
To yield up what our Arms can well defend.
Such steps King
Octa makes for Peace, beside
That both may yet with closer Bonds be ty'd,
Bright
Ethelina, Octa's chief Delight,
Shall be the Link, the Nations to unite.
This so much envy'd Favorite of Fame,
Whom all with Love, and Admiration name.
Octa consents shall be your beauteous Bride,
To you already, in her Faith Ally'd.
These Measures all Contentions may adjust,
Friendship confirm, and fix a mutual Trust.
But if rejected,
Octa does declare
He's guiltless of the dire effects of War.
Upon the Christians Head, will rest the Guilt
Of all the Blood, that by the Sword is spilt.
The Prince reply'd,
Affairs of that Importance to the State,
Require our thoughtful Care and calm Debate.
The two Proposals by King
Octa made,
For lasting Friendship, shall be duly weigh'd.
Twice had the Sun broke from the Purple East,
Twice was he seen dilated in the West.
When
Arthur seated on his Chair of State,
Thus spake, the
Saxons with Attention wait.
An honourable Peace my Thoughts prefer,
To all the Triumphs of a Bloody War.
I, and my
Britons, those just Terms approve,
King
Octa makes t' establish Peace and Love,
To spare each Nation's Blood, and save the Isle
From Desolation, and destructive Spoil.
Indulgent Heav'n is to both Nations kind,
That has your King to peaceful Thoughts inclin'd.
Ten Lords of
Saxon, ten of
British Blood,
May meet at
Spina near
Cunetio's Flood
T' adjust the Limits of each Nation's Power,
And Barriers fix, that may their Peace secure.
You for an Interview, the place will name,
Where I may see the beauteous
Saxon Dame.
He ceas'd, and all the Audience pour'd around,
To this assented with a murmuring Sound.
A sudden Joy did in their Eyes appear,
While smiling Peace, triumph'd o'er vanquish'd War.
Mean time the Infernal Monarch wings his Flight,
To the
White Hills, whence his Angelick Sight
Might all the Fields, and subject plains survey,
Where in their Camp, the hateful
Britons lay.
[Page 177]While with malicious Eyes around he view'd,
The
Christian Army fill'd with Joy, he stood
With Rage dilated, and with Envy blown,
Like glowing
Aetna, on
Plinlimon thrown.
Flashes of Fire from his red Eyeballs flow'd,
Like Lightning breaking from a lowring Cloud.
So when a Toad, squat on a Border spies,
The Gardner passing by, his bloodshot Eyes
With Spite, and Rage inflam'd, dart Fire around
The verdant Walks, and on the flowry Ground,
The bloated Vermin loathsome Poison spits,
And swoln and bursting with his Malice sits.
So the faln Angel sate, and thus begun,
Am I, and all th' infernal Powers outdone?
And must this
Briton still pursue his Course,
And thus elude my Arts, and all my Force?
What Christian Towns, and States have I destroy'd,
Forc'd by my Power, or by my Arts decoy'd?
How few remaining Christian Regions are,
Where no deep Marks of my Revenge appear?
What glorious Ruin did my
Romans spread
O'er
Asia's Christians; I the
Lombards led,
And furious
Huns, to rich
Ausonia's Soil;
And fill'd the Land with Blood, and Christian Spoil,
My
Maxamin's, and
Nero's, mighty Names,
What Desolation, by devouring Flames,
What Slaughter by the Sword, these Heros made,
With what Success did they the Saints invade?
And if the Fame be true that spreads in Hell,
In
Gaul a Prince shall arise, that shall excel
All these, and more in Blood and Spoil delight,
And all Hell's Furies to his Aid invite.
Let that great Prince arise, and may his Birth,
Be honour'd with Convulsions of the Earth,
[Page 178]Eclipses, Comets, Meteors, Lightnings, Storms,
Murders, and Monsters of tremendous Forms.
Not are there Triumphs of my Power alone,
Much weaker Spirits, have great Conquests won.
Spirits of Lower Order, small renown,
In Hell of little Figure, scarcely known.
Inferiour, subaltern Divinities,
Could often their just Fury to appease,
To wreck their Rage, and honest Malice cloy,
Whole Armies of this hateful Sect destroy:
First tempt th' ungrateful Murmurers to Rebel,
And then with Plagues and Darts invisible,
With Fire, and Earthquakes lay all wast, disseize
Their God, and ruin all his Votaries.
And shall this
Briton all my Force defy,
And introduce his banish'd Deity?
High States of Hell, ye mighty Gods below,
In your August Assemblies who will Bow,
Who Acclamations make when I appear,
Who dread my Power, my Greatness who revere?
If still this
Briton shall resist my Power,
And all my Arts eluded, rest secure?
But if by irresistable Deceree
Pronounc'd by Fate, and unchang'd Destiny;
Arthur at last must mount the
British Throne,
Beat down our Altars, and erect his own.
At least new hardships shall obstruct his Way,
And my Revenge his Triumphs shall delay.
That said he Flew, his Snakie Wings display'd,
Down to his Palace midst th' Infernal Shade.
From all their gloomy Regions to his Court,
At his Command, th' Infernal Lords resort.
[Page 179]To whom their Monarch from his glowing Throne,
Thus with a haughty, troubled Look begun.
Thus far in vain all our Attempts are made,
To crush the
Britons that our State invade.
At Sea, they Triumph o'er King
Octa's Fleet,
At Land, Success above their Hopes, they meet.
Octa defeated, dreads Prince
Arthur's Arms,
And sues for Peace, by
Ethelina's Charms.
If this should once prevail,
Britannia's lost,
We, and our Priests, must fly this impious Coast.
Help'd by th' Almighty Enemy of Hell,
They yet our Arms escape, our Power repel.
Then Monarch's War with vast advantage wage,
When Heav'n its Power does on their part Engage.
This sure Expedient's left us to annoy
The
Britons, and their tow'ring Hopes destroy.
Let us provoke them to some dire Offence,
Which may against their Armies, Heav'n incense.
Then the Seraphick Guards, that round them ly,
Or else patroling thro' the Region fly,
Scowring the Hills and Vales; with flaming Arms,
The Christians to protect from our Alarms;
These will displeas'd, withdraw their powerful Aid,
And we with Safety may their Camp invade.
What subtile Spirit of seducing Art,
And skill in tempting, will perform this part?
Then filthy
Asmodai who Men inspires
With wanton Passions, and unclean Desires,
Whose leud Adorers stand before his Shrine,
Transform'd to lustful Goats, and loathsome Swine,
Thus spake: This grateful Province I embrace,
I from their Minds will virtuous Passions chase.
[Page 180]My stronger Force shall all chast Thoughts expel,
And Heav'n's weak Flames, shall yield to those of Hell.
To solemn Groves, and lonesom Hermits Cells,
Where boasted Chastity in Triumph dwells,
To Cloyster'd Monks Admission I command,
And can a Camp my powerful Charms withstand?
On me such chosen Spirits shall attend,
Whose Skill and Power will most promote my End.
The Gods of
Riot, Luxury, and
Wine,
In this Attempt shall all their Forces joyn.
Doubt not great Prince, when we their Camp Assail,
Nature is on our side, we shall prevail.
Th' Infernal Diet with his Language mov'd,
With loud Applause the wise Design approv'd.
Straight
Asmodai attended with a Train
Of soft Luxurious Spirits, to the Plain
Directs his Flight, where the glad
Britons lay;
With lab'ring Wings he mounts the steepy Way,
And quickly reach'd the tender Verge of Day.
In Companies distinct the
Britons sate,
Pleas'd with their wish'd Success, and prosp'rous Fate.
When to the Camp the Crew Infernal came,
Grasping in either hand
Tartarean Flame.
About from Tent to Tent the
Demons flew,
And midst the Troops their flaming Torches threw.
The wanton Fires about their Bosoms play,
And to their Hearts lascivious warmth convey.
The soft Contagion glides along their Veins,
And in their Breasts the pleasing Poison reigns.
Straight all in Riot and Debauches joyn,
Dissolve in Mirth, and sit inflam'd with Wine.
The Captains Snore on Scarlet spread beneath,
And with their lab'ring Breasts contend for Breath.
[Page 181]Tables o'erturn'd and broken Swords betwixt,
And Dishes faln, with Armour intermixt,
Helmets and Harness, and bruis'd Goblets by,
A mad Confusion, make of War, and Luxury:
Acted with lustful Fires, from Town to Town
Commanders and their Men promiscuous run.
With Outrages and ravish'd Virgins Spoils,
The vicious Army all the Land defiles.
Whoredoms in
Pagan Cities they commit,
And at their Sacrifices feasting sit.
Heated with leud Religion, Lust, and Wine
They in the Worship of their Idols join.
Then to the Camp the hot Adulterers lead
Their
Pagan Women and avow the Deed.
Th' Angelick Guards th' enormous vices saw,
And in Displeasure from their Camp withdraw,
All Hell with Shouts of Triumph did resound,
That Such Success had all their Wishes crown'd
The Prince of Hell strait summons from beneath
The chief supporter of the Throne of Death,
Vengeful
Megaera, she without Delay
From Hell's Abyss ascends, and in her Way
Gathers raw Damps and Steams from noisome Graves,
And putrid Reeks, from Subterranean Caves;
Where spotted Plagues first draw their poisonous Breath,
The Nurseries of Pain, and Magazines of Death.
These Seeds of Torment, and devouring Heats,
From whose Contagion vanquish'd Life retreats,
Megaera in compacted Hides dark Wombs,
For this infernal Purpose made, entombs.
In their distinct Repositories laid,
Sad choice of Death, she various Plagues convey'd.
[Page 182]Arm'd for Destruction thus the Fury Came,
And brought from
Asmodai's, a different Flame.
Then Wolves were heard in neighb'ring Hills to howl,
Th' illboding Raven and the screaching Owl
Sung o'er the Camp by Night, the Sun by Day,
Distain'd with Blood, shone with a dismal Ray.
The cruel Fury strait her Flight did take
To find her Prince, to whom th' Apostate spake.
Go, glut thy Rage, and let the
Britons know,
Hell's Monarch is not yet a vanquish'd Foe.
Pass thro their Camp with thy accustom'd Hast,
And on them all thy deadly Treasures wast.
Strait did the vengeful Minister prepare,
T' infect the Camp, and poison all the Air.
Her Bottles turgid with imprison'd Death
She open'd, and releas'd the fatal Breath.
In livid Wheels the dire Contagion flies,
And putrid Exhalations taint the Skies.
The Region's choak'd with Pestilential Steams,
Malignant Reeks, raw Damps, and soultry Gleams.
Now with their Breath the hot Infection slides
Into their Breasts, and thro' their Vitals glides.
Their Lab'ring Hearts spout out the flowing Blood,
And fry the Limbs with an Aetnean Flood.
The raging Pest'lence chases thro' the Veins
Retreating Life, and drest in purple Reigns.
While other Plagues run colder to the Heart,
And thro' their Breast strike like a poison'd Dart.
Rack'd with tormenting Pain some gasping lie,
Some only breath th' envenom'd Air, and die.
Their Hearts with chill, congealing Blood opprest,
Throb a few moments in their panting Breast,
Then yield, and from their Vital Labour rest.
[Page 183]In vain for Help, in vain for Drugs they cry,
Friends and Physicians come, but with them dy.
Thro' all the Camp the fierce Destruction's spread,
Deforming every Tent with Heaps of Dead.
Mean time the pious
Arthur prostrate laid,
Thus in a Flood of Tears dissolving pray'd:
Great King of Heav'n, thy Arm thou makest bare,
T' invade the
Britons with resistless War.
Thy glitt'ring Sword brandish'd with dreadful Sway,
Does thro our Camp with wide Destruction Slay.
Why did thy Aids the Shipwreckt
Britons save,
From Rocks and Tempests, and th' insulting Wave,
If we must only see our Native Isle,
And with our Dead th' encumber'd Land defile?
Th' insulting Heathen will Blaspheme thy Name,
And in their Songs advance their Idols Fame.
To their vain Gods loud Praises they'll return,
And Hecatombs upon their Altars burn.
Spare yet thy
Britons, let some Reliques live,
That may due Honours to thy Temples give.
Let the Destroyer cease at thy Command,
And Death at thy Rebuke arrested, stand.
And may the Crimes that Heav'n provoke, be known,
That our deep Sorrows may its Wrath atone.
The pious Prince's humble Cries succeed,
And glorious
Raphael with Angelick speed
Descends, his Sword of Flame drawn in his Hand,
To chase the fierce Destroyer from the Land.
A Crystal Vial full of Od'rous Fumes,
Ambrosial Balm, and rich Etherial Gums;
His other hand pour'd out upon the Air,
To cure the Damps, and noxious Vapours there.
[Page 184]
Megaera flies the bright Archangel's Sword,
The Plague was staid, and Health and Life restor'd.
Then to the room swift
Raphael Wings his way,
Where
Arthur still devoutly prostrate lay.
To whom the Seraph thus:
Heav'n by the
Britons daring Crimes incens'd,
Almighty Wrath severely has dispenc'd!
Your unprotected Camp it did expose,
To the dire Rage of your Infernal Foes.
Who by Divine Permission soon o'erspread
Your guilty Camp, with putrid Heaps of Dead.
Th' Angelick Guards return'd to Heaven, complain'd
That your flagitious Troops you n'er restrain'd.
Your Captains boldly VVhoredoms, Riots, Rapes
Commit, and yet each Criminal escapes.
Thus you avow the Ills, by others done,
And their unpunish'd Guilt, becomes your own.
Had your Vindictive Arm been first employ'd,
Heav'n's had not thus your guilty Troops destroy'd.
But now th' Eternal yielding to your Prayer,
Has sent me from his Throne, with speedy Care
To stay the Plague, and make the Fiend retreat,
That spreads the Poison, to her
Stygian Seat.
Heav'n's now appeas'd, may ne'er the
Britons dare
By their Revolting, to renew the War.
The Seraph disappear'd, and
Arthur rais'd
Upon his Feet, th' Eternal Goodness prais'd.
THE Prince of Hell that on the Mountain staid,
And with Infernal Joy around survey'd
The Camp, where Death did in sad Triumph reign,
With wide Destruction, covering all the Plain.
Thus to himself: At last I have prevail'd.
Against this Sect, tho other Arts have fail'd.
Their Troops half ruin'd with the Plague, afford
An easie Conquest, for King
Octa's Sword;
I'll break the Peace, although advanc'd so far,
And finish their Destruction by new War.
Arthur, prepare against the
Saxon Arms,
'Tis time enough for
Ethelina's Charms.
Heros delay'd, and disappointed, prize
The Crown, that got too cheaply, they despise.
Pleasures the farther off, the greater seem,
And Toil and Danger, best preserve Esteem.
That service I will do, by taking care
To give fresh Fuel to th' expiring War.
That said, he leaves the Crystal Plains of Light,
And to th' Infernal Regions takes his Flight.
There stands a Rock, dash'd with the breaking Wave
Of troubled
Styx, where was a gloomy Cave
Flowing with Gore, the fierce
Bellona dwells,
And bound with Adamantine Fetters, Yells.
[Page 186]Around stand Heaps of mosly Sculls, and Bones,
Whence issue loud Laments, and dreadful Groans.
Torn Limbs, and mangled Bodies are her Food,
Her Drink whole Bowls of Wormwood, Gall, and Blood.
Long curling Snakes her Head with Horrour crown,
And on he rsquallid Back hang lolling down.
This gripes a bloody Dart, the other Hand
Grasps of Infernal Fire, a flaming Brand.
Treason, and Usurpation near ally'd,
Haughty Ambition, and elated Pride,
And Cruelty, with bloody Garlands crown'd,
Rapine, and Desolation stand around.
With these Injustice, Violence, Rage remain,
And ghastly Famine, with her meagre Train.
This Savage Rout to
Gallia now resort,
Drawn by the Fame of proud
Versallia's Court.
There these Attendants on their Master wait,
And with their odious Forms, compose his horrid State.
To this wild Den now did th' Apostate fly,
Resolving all
Bellona's Aid to try.
At his Approach the Monsters cease their Din,
And bow at distance with a dreadful Grin.
The
Stygian Prince, the Fury soon unchains,
Strait double Rage boils in her swelling Veins.
Then thus he spoke, to
Octa's Palace fly,
Attended with persidious Treachery,
And various Discord, let thy Arts perswade
That Prince, the ruin'd
Britons to invade.
Go raise new Tumults, and dissolve the Peace,
For this high Task
Bellona I release.
Charg'd with these dire Commands, she flies away,
To the Superiour Regions, blest with Day.
[Page 195]Near
Peak's aspiring Mount, and spacious Wood,
And the green Banks of
Dovus Crystal Flood.
A wide-mouth'd Den, th' admiring Traveller sees
With thorny Shrubs o'er-spread, and shady Trees;
That downward goes unfathomably deep,
Beneath the subterranean Vaults, that keep
Imprison'd Damps, and Winds tumultuous Store,
And the low Caves, where falling Waters roar.
It passes thro' the Bowels of the Earth,
And the rich Beds, where Metals have their Birth,
Till it reveals the gloomy Mouth of Hell,
Bellona freed from her infernal Cell,
Thro' this dire Gulph ascends with hasty Flight,
And soon emerges in the Fields of Light.
The Air grew dark, the Rocks, and Mountains struck
With Horrour, at the
Fury's Presence shook.
The Sphears disorder'd roll, the starting Sun
Springs from the Heav'nly Course he us'd to run.
The Moon all drown'd in Blood, and blazing Stars,
Portended Tumults, and destructive Wars.
Straight to King
Octa's Court the Fury comes,
And
Acha Octa's Mother's Shape assumes.
Then thus she spoke.
From blest
Elysian Gardens I descend
To teach thee how to gain a glorious End
Of all thy Labours, and thy warlike Toil,
And fix thy Empire o'er the
British Isle.
Heav'n has decreed that here thy Race shall reign,
And therefore has the hateful
Britons slain
With a destructive Plague, and poison'd Darts
Shot from above, into their impious Hearts.
Not half their Troops survive, make hast my Son
Their Ruine to compleat, by Heav'n begun.
[Page 196]Run then to Triumph, hast to certain Spoil,
And chase the cursed Nation from the Isle.
You see how much your League the Gods offend,
Let not their Enemy, be
Octa's Friend.
They must not be to us by Blood ally'd,
Nor
Ethelina be a
Briton's Bride.
That said, a spotted Viper from her Head,
She to his Bosom secretly convey'd.
The poisonous Vermin, with infernal Art
Glides thro' his Breast, and twines about his Heart.
The secret Poison wanders thro' his Veins,
And warlike Fury o'er his Spirits reigns.
Hence straight-way to the
Picts and
Scottish Court,
The Fury, and her hellish Train resort.
Where they to bloody Wars sound loud Alarms
And make the barb'rous Nations fly to Arms.
Mean time, the
Saxon Monarch raving flew
About the Court, and soon together drew
The chiefest Lords, and thus himself exprest,
It was resolv'd to give the
Britons Rest;
The Land between the Nations to divide,
And that the Princess should be
Arthur's Bride.
But Heav'n against his Treaty does declare,
And singly with the
Britons wages War.
In vain we offer what they can't enjoy,
We spare the Men, Heav'n labours to destroy.
Avenging Gods from their high Regions came,
Arm'd with bright Swords of keen, Etherial Flame,
And fatal Darts of pointed Lightnings made,
And with sure Death the
British Camp invade.
Their trembling Reliques fall our certain Prey,
Heav'n sounds th' Alarm, and we must Heav'n obey.
[Page 197]Tho we by Sea their Power could not withstand,
Our Gods more potent are, then theirs by Land.
Th' unfinish'd Conquest we may soon compleat
Or from this Isle oblige them to retreat.
This fair occasion let our Arms improve
To fix our Power, and all our Fears remove.
He ceas'd, and all his Captains War desir'd,
And sprang into the Field with Martial Heat inspir'd.
Straight Orders are dispacht for all to Arm,
And thro' the Cities sounds the loud Alarm.
The tremb'ling Husbandman his Toil forbears,
Fells his tall Ash, and shapes long Staves for Spears.
Some sighing o'er their Anvils forge the Blades
Of Swords, instead of Hooks, and rural Spades.
Huge Gauntlets some, some hollow Helmets beat,
And some o'er brazen Backs, and Breastplates sweat.
Some shape their Darts, and some their Javelins Points,
Or fit their pollish'd Armour's Manly Joints.
Shap'ning their Arrows Heads, some stand inclin'd,
Some on revolving Stones their Axes grind.
Some serve on foot, some take the Horseman's Launce,
And to the Field their foaming Coursers praunce.
In hast, some from their high roof'd Halls hung round,
With all the horrid Pride of War, and crown'd
With dusty Trophies, take their massy Shield,
And flaming Sword, and fly into the Field.
Some clasp their Helmets on, some snatch their Spear,
And polish'd Buckler, and in Arms appear.
Ensigns display'd, and Trumpets voice delight
The Saxon Youth, and martial Minds excite.
The lighted Beacons from the Hills declare,
As blazing Comets do, approaching War,
[Page 198]The flaming Signals giv'n, the Regions round
With Hors'men, Arms, and warlike noise resound.
As when
In some great Town a Fire breaks out by Night,
And fills with crackling Flames, and dismal Light,
With Sparks, and Pitchy Smoak th' astonish'd Sky,
Th' affrighted Guards, that first the Flame espy,
Straight giveth' Alarm, and spread the dreadful Cry.
Th' amaz'd Inhabitants the Signal take.
And run in Crowds half cloath'd, and half awake,
To stop the spreading Ruin, and to tame
With spouting Engines the destructive Flame.
So when the frightful Cry of War begun,
Into the Fields in Troops the
Saxons run.
Now
Muse relate, and in their Order name
The People, that from different Regions came.
What fam'd Commanders did their Squadrons head,
And what great Lords their valiant Subjects led,
First the stout
Cantian Saxon, from the Land,
That bravely once did
Caesar's Arms withstand,
Where Joyful Nature, sits in Plenty crown'd,
Hesperian Woods, and Sylvan Scenes surround,
Her shady Throne, that with rich Fruit abound.
Of these some on the flowry Banks reside,
Of fair
Medvaga, that with wanton Pride,
Forms silver Mazes with her crooked Tide.
The
Durobrovian Youth of war-like Fame,
And bold
Vagniacans, together came,
With those about the fruitful Region bred,
Where
Durovernum, reers her stately Head.
They march from
Thanotos, and from her Towers,
Her valiant Youth sublime
Rutupia pours.
[Page 191]
Rutupia, whose rich Gems, and Pearly Store
Inticed Victorious
Caesar, to her Shore.
Their chief Commanders were great
Amades,
Valiant
Theodriek, Osred, and with these
Hengist, a splendid Youth, the Blood, and Name
Of the first
Saxon, of Illustrious Fame,
That from the
Belgick Shore, to
Albion came.
From the fat Glebe they come, and flowry Land
Which the stout
Trinobantes, did Command.
Augusta sends her warlike Youth, a Town
Of ancient Fame, to Forraign Merchants known,
Ev'n then for Naval Power of great Renown.
But since her stately Head is rais'd so high,
Her glorious Towers surmount the wondring Sky.
Her Royal Fleets the watry World controll,
Where the vast Ocean can his Billows roll,
Far as the
Indies, and from Pole to Pole.
Her Power by trembling, Neighbour States is fear'd,
By distant Empires, and new Worlds rever'd.
Her bellowing Oaks, with louded Thunder roar,
Then what annoy'd them, on their Hills before,
Shaking the
Gallick, and the
Belgian Shore.
Britannia's Head she reigns in Wealth and Ease,
Mart of the World, and Emp'ress of the Seas.
Edgar and
Cissa, both Illustrious Names,
From the delightful Banks of famous Thames,
Into the Field,
Augusta's Squadrons bring,
None fought more bravely for the
Saxon King.
They from the Forests come, whose Sports invite
Augusta's Youth, that in the Woods delight.
From the sweet Gardens of the fruitful East,
With smiling Flowers, and od'rous Saffron blest.
[Page 192]From
Camelodunum pop'lous once, and proud
Of its fam'd Colony of
Roman Blood.
From round
Canonium, arm'd with Swords and Shields,
The warlike People March, and from the Fields
Where
Idumanum verdant Wealth bestows,
Whose wanton Tide in wreathing Volumes flows,
Still forming Reedy Islands, as it goes.
Brave
Sebert led them, valiant
Oga's Son,
Whose Arms had great Renown in Battel won.
The chearful Youth from
Verolamium came,
A Town of ancient, and illustrious Fame.
Where fortify'd with Trenches, Lakes and Wood,
The valiant
Casibellan, once withstood
The
Roman Arms, oblig'd at last to yield,
Where
Caesar fights, who can maintain the Field?
Since cherish'd by th' indulgent Conquerour,
The City was advanc'd in Wealth and Power.
Its Towers, gilt Fanes, and Palaces did rise,
Darting Terrestrial Glories thro' the Skies.
Now where the City stood, the Ploughman toils,
And as he works, turns up old
Roman Spoils,
Medals and Coins, enrich th' admiring Clown,
Pavements and Urns, by ancient Figures known.
From the rich Seats they came, from whence their Sword
The
Coritanian chas'd, the rightful Lord.
From all the Towns, around the spacious Wood
Near which sublime
Tripontium's Castles stood.
From
Bannavenna well-arm'd Squadrons came,
And
Durobrevis, on
Aufona's Stream.
Their chief Commanders were brave
Alopas,
And valiant
Egbert, both of
Horsa's Race.
[Page 193]They came, who dwelt along the Southern Coast,
On which the
German Ocean's Waves are tost.
The Soil the brave
Icenian Britons blest
With Peace, and envy'd Plenty, once possest.
Venta they left, where
Garienus Tide,
Does to the Bosom of
Bardunus glide,
An ancient, wealthy Town that did abound,
With warlike Youth, and rul'd the Soil around.
High
Branodunum does her Squadrons send,
Where
Roman Arms, did once the Coast defend.
They leave the Towns along fair
Theta's Flood,
And happy Soil, where
Gariononum stood.
Those from the Banks of winding
Stourus came,
And the rich Town, that bore
Faustinus name.
They come from
Oza's Banks, and from the Land
Which lofty
Combritonium did Command.
This numerous
Saxon Youth, that then obey'd
King
Ella's Laws, advance to
Octa's Aid.
Ella their Valiant Prince, was at their Head,
And to the Field, his warlike People led.
From
Camboritum, and the Neighb'ring Hills,
The chearful Youth drawn out, the Region fills:
From
Camboritum, then a warlike Town,
Since for the Muses Seat, much better known.
Her learned Sons have gain'd Immortal Fame,
And high as Heav'n, have rais'd
Britannia's Name.
Redwal, whose Lands a vast Revenue yield,
Led them, compleatly arm'd into the Field.
They leave the reedy Lakes, and marshy Soil,
Once happy by the
British Farmers Toil.
[Page 194]Now the vext Land a Forreign Master knows,
Which o'er the Country, like a Deluge flows,
That from the Sea, the Banks born down, is roll'd,
And o'er their Fields advances uncontroll'd.
The Valiant Youth from all the Region goes,
Which
Trent and
Lindis, confluent Streams, enclose.
High
Margadunum, all her Squadrons lends,
And stately
Lindum, which her Power extends
O'er the wide Province, her Battalions sends.
Mighty
Ebissa, from the Fenny Land
Into the Field, did lead this warlike Band.
Orla, and
Imerick, a Valiant Lord,
Fam'd for his Strength, and vast unweildy Sword,
Drew all their Squadrons, and Battalions forth,
From all their Towns, that lay the farthest North.
King
Cerdic from the
West his Army brought,
Who for the
Saxon Empire bravely fought.
He all the
Saxon Heros far excess'd,
Whose conquering Arms, were never yet repell'd.
A great Commander, Brave and Fortunate,
That founded first the
Western Saxon State.
Those seated on
Halenus verdant Banks
Draw out, and Muster their Victorious Ranks.
They March from
Tresantona's Crystal Flood,
From
Venta's Downs, and
Regnum's spacious Wood.
From rich
Clusentum, and fair
Vecta's Isle,
From
Briga and
Segontium's fertile Soil.
On
Sorbiodunum's Plains arm'd Youth appears,
With nodding Plumes, and moving Groves of Spears.
The famous Captain, who had chief Command,
That with his Prince came to invade the Land,
Was
Lothar, born on
Belgick Mosa's Flood,
Whose noble Veins were fill'd with Royal Blood:
And dying, left him to her Brother's Care.
With all this Strength King
Octa takes the Field,
Nor doubts, but
Arthur to his Arms must yield.
The
Britons now a solemn Fast proclaim
To mourn their Guilt, and take th' attendant Shame.
To own the dreadful Plague, their Crimes desert,
And by their Grief, like Judgments to avert.
That Heav'n appeas'd, from its relenting Hand
May drop its Bolt, and spare the threaten'd Land.
Sorrow untaught on every Face appear'd,
And only Sighs and sad Laments were heard.
They weep aloud, and mourn their impious Fall,
And with united Prayers for Mercy call.
The prostrate Penitents for Pardon Cry,
And from Heav'n's Justice, to its Pity fly.
To Grief, and flowing Tears, no Bounds are giv'n,
Th' Artillery alone, that Conquers Heav'n.
Righteous Resolves fill every humble Mind,
And all in Vows of blest Obedience joyn'd.
The mournful Camp's a Scene of pious Woe
Where thro' their Eyes, their Hearts dissolving flow.
Their loud and fervent Supplications, rise
Above the Clouds, and penetrate the Skies.
Contending thus with Heav'n they weep, and pray,
And strive to turn th' impending Storm away,
That charg'd with Vengeance o'er their Camp appear'd,
More Plagues they had deserv'd, and therefore fear'd.
Prince
Arthur, that in Piety was chief,
And now chief mourner, thus exprest his Grief,
Th' attentive
Britons hear, and hope Relief.
[Page 196]Of Wrath Divine, what Vials have been pour'd,
And empty'd on our Heads, that hath devour'd
The guilty
Britons, and our Camp consum'd;
Where pil'd in Heaps, the Dead, the Dead entomb'd!
Th' Eternal's Sword around did widely wast,
And carried Death, and Ruin where it past.
It reek'd in Blood, and shone with Slaughter dy'd
Red, as the Crimson Sins, that for its Vengeance cry'd.
This day we deprecate the Curse, and all
With wounded Souls, for Heav'n's Compassion call.
To still the Storms of Wrath that on us beat,
And cause the fiery Torrent to retreat.
The God we Worship Jealous is, and Pure,
His
Wrath advances slow, but reaches sure.
His threat'ning Arm does long extended stay,
But then descends with the more fearful Sway.
Who then can his consuming Fire withstand,
Who bear the strokes of his Revenging Hand?
There's hope your Prayers have found Success above,
And Heav'n aton'd, will this fierce Plague remove.
May ne'er our impious Crimes, his Arm provoke
To end our Ruin, by a second stroke.
He ceas'd. His Men their sacred Vows renew,
And for Devotion to their Tents withdrew.
Where while Celestial Warmth their Breasts extend,
The Day in Prayers, and Hymns of Praise they end.
Heav'n the Returning Penitents embrac'd,
And far away th' Infernal Legions chas'd.
Their Guardian Angels once more take their Post,
Drawn out in bright Array, around their Host.
Twice had the Sun with dawning Glories blest
The World, and call'd the Lab'rer from his rest,
With pearly Dew, ascends her Throne of Jet.
When certain Tydings
Arthur's Camp alarm'd,
That
Octa's Men against the
Britons arm'd,
Believing that the
Britons thus distrest,
By
Saxon Arms, might be with Ease opprest.
With
Octa Leagues, and Overtures of Peace,
When War shall offer more advantage, cease.
The Tydings soon thro' all the Army ran,
Whence in their Minds tormenting Fears began.
They thought their weaken'd Troops, could not oppose
The fierce Attack, of their insulting Foes.
The trouble spreads, all, their sad State bewail,
That those the
Plague had spar'd, the
Sword should now assail.
The pious Prince with heavy Grief opprest,
To Heav'n thus vents the trouble of his Breast.
Thou that from dark
Egyptian Prisons freed,
As Shepherds do their Flocks, did'st
Israel lead.
Who from between the Cherubs, did'st display
Thy Heav'nly Glories, to direct their Way.
Whose mighty Arm extended, did secure
Their trembling Host, pursu'd by
Pharoah's Power.
Shine forth, and with thy Beams dispel this Night,
Whose horrid Shades, my lab'ring Soul affright.
Stir up thy Strength, thy Foes, and ours invade,
And bring thy shining Myriads to our Aid.
Thou God of Light, reveal thy glorious Face,
Thy Rays will from the Sky, this Tempest chase.
Thee, all the unnumber'd Hosts of Heav'n obey,
Drawn in embattl'd Lines, and bright Array
Along th' Etherial Plains, and here below
Monarchs to thee, precarious Empires owe.
How long wilt thou neglect thy People's Cry?
Bath'd in our Tears, and pleas'd with Grief, we moan
Our solitary State, for God is gone.
Our Foes around, despise our Mournful State,
And on those Loads that press us, heap more Weight.
Our Enemies enrag'd, no Mounds between,
On us, like rising Waves, come roaring in.
Against the Reliques thy fierce Wrath has spar'd,
The Foe's Inexorable Sword's prepar'd.
On me with Scorn th' insulting Scoffers look,
As one, whom Heav'n displeas'd has now forsook.
The
Pagans make my Woes their sportful Theam.
Reproach thy Vot'ries, and thy Name blaspheme.
Stir up thy Power, thy glitt'ring Arms assume,
Bowing the Heav'ns, to our Deliverance come.
As from th' aspiring Mountains, rais'd around
Ierusalem, while it stood, Protection found.
So let a Guard, from thy bright Host detach'd,
T' encamp about our Army be dispatch'd.
Thou God of Truth arise, let th' Heathen see,
Thy Wrath pursues perfidious Treachery.
While thus Prince
Arthur Heav'ns Protection sought,
The God-like
Raphael, this kind Message brought.
Thy Prayer prevails, O Prince, be not dismay'd,
Th'
Almighty's Arm is strecht out for your Aid.
Highly your Crimes Heav'n's Majesty displeas'd,
But your Repentance hath his Wrath appeas'd.
His People's Faults do but his Rod employ,
But his fierce Vengeance shall his Foes destroy.
Let not the
Saxon's Numbers be their Pride,
You're stronger far, for God is on your Side
Abundantly your Loss is thus Supply'd.
[Page 199]Arise, and let the
Britons Courage take,
Their Arms shall drive th' advancing
Saxon back.
The Prince with
Raphael's heav'nly Message cheer'd,
Octa's unequal Force, no longer fear'd.
His chearful Looks the drooping
Britons saw,
And thence reviving Warmth, and Courage draw.
His God-like Language calms their troubled Minds,
And with its Charms reluctant Passions binds.
He to their frozen Veins new Life procures,
Dispels their Doubts, and fainting Hopes assures.
The
Britons that before did scarcely dare
T' expect it, now resolve to meet the War.
They now no more the Fears of Danger own,
While Heav'n assists, and
Arthur leads them on.
Mean time illboding Prodigies affright
King
Octa, and disswade his Men from Fight,
The Birds of Heav'n the gazing
Augurs scare,
Crossing with inauspicious Flights the Air!
The Fowl as sacred kept, projected Meat,
Coldly regard, and sullenly retreat.
From hollow Oaks, obscene Night Ravens sung,
And clustring Bees upon their Ensigns hung.
Bullocks with Garlands crown'd reluctant come,
Break from the Altar, and run lowing home.
Near silver
Thamisis sweet Banks, there stood
Awful for solemn Shade, a lofty Wood.
Where they ador'd their God
Irmansul nam'd,
A war-like Idol, thro'
Germania fam'd.
His Right Hand did a flowry Garland bear,
His Left held up a Balance in the Air.
His Breast a grisly Bear's fierce Figure bore,
And in his Shield a Lyon seem'd to roar.
[Page 200]Fresh gather'd Flowers dispers'd in Heaps around,
Gay Superstition, paint their sacred Ground.
Hither the
Saxons, and their Priests repair,
T' atone their God, with
Victims and with Prayer.
His Aid against the
Britons to invoke,
While the tall Oaks with Clouds of Incense smoak.
The Priests the Wood to burn the Victim lay,
And a crown'd Bullock at the Altar slay.
Their reeking Hands, ransack in vain the Breast,
To find the Heart of the prodigious Beast.
The Priests grow pale, and from their Altars start,
Finding a
Victim slain without a Heart.
But that which most the gazing
Saxons scare,
Are Armies seen engaging in the Air.
The highest ground of all th' heavenly Way,
The Sun had gain'd, darting a downright Ray.
When two black Clouds appear'd, one from the East
Threat'ning arose, the other from the West.
They stretcht their lowring Fronts across the Sky,
And frowning, seem'd each other to defy.
Between a Glade of free and open Air,
Did, as betwixt two spacious Woods, appear.
Then issuing from the Womb of either Cloud,
Two Armies met, and drawn in Battel stood.
The sick'ning Sun shone with a gloomy Ray,
Scar'd with the bloody Business of the Day.
Between them straight began a furious Fight,
And glitt'ring Arms supply'd the want of Light.
Eager of Glory from Heroick Deeds,
The Airy Knights spur on their foaming Steeds.
They rush to Battel with a full Career,
And tilting break their Lances in the Air.
[Page 201]Swords clashing Swords, and Shields rencountring Shields,
Fill with the Din of War th' Etherial Fields.
Vaulting the Air, thick Showers of Arrows fly,
And warlike Labour troubles all the Sky.
A Bloody Field was fought, and Heaps of Slain
Seem'd to o'erspread the wide Etherial Plain.
Chariots o'erturn'd, and scatter'd Harness by,
Steeds, and dismounted Riders, mingled ly.
From gaping Wounds, a Crimson Sea of Blood,
Along the Heav'nly Pavement reeking flow'd.
At last the Squadrons, in the Eastern Sky
Fell in Disorder, and began to fly.
The Conquerours hung upon their Backs, and chas'd
Their Troops, with mighty Rout thro' all the Wast.
Into the Clouds and Heav'nly Wilds they fled,
And left upon the Bloody Field their Dead.
Next off the Theater the Victors go,
And into shapeless Air dissolving flow.
The lab'ring Scene, and Actors disappear'd,
And of the War the Airy Stage was clear'd.
Octa that view'd th' important Prodigy,
Trembled to see the Eastern Army fly.
He wisely hid his Fears within his Breast,
And to his Captains thus himself exprest.
Let not vain Prodigies the
Saxons scare,
Form'd by the wanton Demons of the Air.
Wrapt in dark Clouds, the Will of Heav'n's conceal'd,
To Mortals only by th' Event reveal'd.
Think not fantastick Portents can declare
The Fate of Kingdoms, and Results of War.
These only weak, and vulgar Minds affright,
Like Phantoms, borrowing Horrour from the Night.
[Page 202]Which, as capricious Nature's Play, the wise
From timerous Superstition free, despise.
The valiant on their Arms make Fortune wait,
And carve out to themselves propitious Fate.
Neglect these Dreams, the Gods are ever kind
To the best Troops, and to th' undaunted Mind.
Great
Caesar thus contemn'd his Augurs Tales,
Fights, and o'er Foes, and Portents too, prevails.
Thus
Octa strove their Passion to appease,
And give them what himself enjoy'd not, Ease.
At a small Village now unknown by Name,
There dwelt a Sorcerer of wondrous Fame.
The Pagan
Briton Merlin, that of late
For his dire Art, driv'n from the
British State;
Did with the Pagan
Saxons safely dwell,
And kept his Correspondence up with Hell.
With potent Juices, and infernal Charms,
The black Magician, Plagues, and Mortal Harms,
And various Kinds of Mischiefs did inflict
On those, whom Heav'n was pleas'd he should afflict.
He in the silent Night while Mortals sleep,
By Hedg-rows, Lakes, or o'er the Hills would creep.
To gather baleful Herbs, with which he drew
Familiar Fiends, that round, like Ravens, flew.
Mounting his Magick Wand, he thro' the Air
To rich Nocturnal Feasts would oft repair,
Spread on green Hills, or near some shady Wood,
Or Grassy Banks of some sweet River's Flood;
Where when th' infernal Company are met,
Rich Meats, and Wines on stately Tables set
They seem to taste, and by the Moon's pale Light,
Spend in Fantastick Luxury, the Night.
At the gray Dawning, lank and meagre, home.
King
Octa's Servants at their Lord's Command,
With their unrighteous Wages in their Hand,
To Merlin come, and soon prevaild to bring
The fam'd Magician, to their anxious King.
Whom
Octa thus bespoke,
The Miracles, your sacred Art has shown,
Make you thro' all the wond'ring Island known.
Let your prodigious Power my Army Guard,
Honour and Riches shall be your Reward.
The Foe we'll now engage but let him first
Be here by you, and your Enchantments curst.
Curse then this impious Enemy your Breath
Will blast their Strength, and fatal prove as Death.
Your Curse and that of Fate, is deem'd the same,
And whom you bless the World does blest proclaim.
Assault their Camp with all your magick Powers,
You'll curse your mortal Foes, as well, as ours.
Revenge your Wrongs, and by your potent Charms,
Draw off the Guardian Gods, that help their Arms.
Come with me then, I will a Mountain shew,
From whose high Top you may their Army view.
There we'll atone the Gods with Prayer and thence
You shall your Curses on the Foe dispence.
Then
Octa to a Mount the Sorc'rer led,
Whence thro' the Vale he saw the
Britons spred.
Seven Altars they erect, and in the Flames,
Seven Bullocks sacrifice, and seven Rams.
Here
Octa and his Lords, their Gods ador'd,
And kneeling round the Flames, their Aid implor'd.
[Page 204]At last, the Night advancing to her Noon,
Merlin conducted by the silver Moon,
From
Octa, to a neighb'ring Hill withdraws,
T' observe infernal Rites, and magick Laws.
He seeks out noxious Plants, whose powerful Juice,
Magicians for their strong Enchantments use.
Green Henbane, Wormwood, Hemlock, Savine Top
In whose prest Juice he dipt his magick Sops,
With Plants that to the Moon their Vertue owe,
And Toadstools, that from Storms of Thunder grow.
Which mixt with humane Fat, red Hair, and Blood,
He offers up cast on the Burning Wood.
Then with his potent Wand, he walks around,
And with dire Circles, marks th' enchanted ground.
Then did he with a mutt'ring Voice rehearse
Wondrous, mysterious Words, and potent Verse.
Th' infernal Charms all Nature did affright,
The waning Moon straight sickned at the Sight.
The Hill with Horror trembled, and around
With howling Wolves the neighb'ring Woods resound.
Then Storms of Rain ensue, swift Lightnings fly,
And dreadful Thunderclaps torment the Sky.
Spectres, and Ghosts break from their hollow Tomb,
And glaring round the Necromancer come.
All Hell was mov'd, the Powers drawn from their Seats
Arise, while
Merlin his dire words repeats.
Whom with his Charms he labours to engage
Against the
Britons, and excites their Rage.
His powerful Arts incline them to employ
United force, their Army to destroy.
But Hell and all its Friends, vain Rage express,
And Curse in vain, when Heav'n desires to Bless.
Returns to
Octa with the rising Sun.
Before the
Saxon Lords he stood, prepar'd
To Curse their Foes, and merit his Reward.
When the Magician's Breast an unknown Fire
Laps'd from above did suddenly inspire.
A warmth Divine his Spirits did invade,
And once a Sorcerer, a Prophet made.
The Heav'nly Fury
Merlin did constrain
To Bless, whom he to Curse design'd in vain.
How Beautiful the
Briton's Tents appear?
What goodly Heads his Tabernacles Rear?
As the rich Vales they spread their verdant Pride,
Or flowry Gardens by the Rivers side.
As shady Aloes in th'
Arabian Woods,
Or lofty Cedars planted by the Floods.
Indulgent Heav'n upon the
Briton pours
Prolifick Dews, and sweet refreshing Showers.
His Seed shall flourish midst surrounding Streams,
Blest with mild Air, and pure reviving Beams.
His Prince's Glory, shall his People's Love,
And Neighbour Monarchs Fear, and Envy, move.
He, like a fearless Unicorn shall stand
Sure of his strength, and all the Fields command.
Those hostile Nations who oppose his Power,
He with resistless Fury shall devour.
He'll break their crashing Bones, his Bow he'll bend,
And thro' their Flesh, his piercing Arrows send.
He couches like a Lyon on the Sand,
Like a vast Lyon in a Desart Land.
Stretching his fearful Limbs at Ease he lies,
What Creature dares provoke him to arise?
[Page 206]Bless him, and be of happy Men the first,
Curse him, and thou thy self shalt be accurst.
He ceas'd. King
Octa tho incens'd, supprest
His Trouble and Displeasure in his Breast,
And to the Sorcerer, thus himself addrest.
By solemn Execrations, to devote
The
Britons to Destruction, you were sought.
But, you this impious Nation chuse to Bless,
And all your Words presage their Arms success.
Withdraw a second time, perhaps you'll find
The Gods, by your Enchantments more inclin'd.
Perhaps some Errour might at first displease,
A second Essay will the Powers appease.
The Sorcerer a second time retreats,
And all his potent Charms with Care repeats.
He added ev'ry poisonous Juice, and Spell
He knew had force to shake the Realms of Hell.
Merlin his impious Rites perform'd, returns,
And acted by Satanick Fury burns.
All Hell within shook the Magician's Breast,
But by a Power Divine straight dispossest;
Th' affrighted Demons fled, and in their stead
A pure Celestial Spirit did succeed.
Transports Divine, his lab'ring Soul engage,
And thus he spake, mov'd with Prophetick Rage.
In vain with Divination, we assail
The
Christian Arms, where all Enchantments fail.
Our Curses by the powerful Breath of Heav'n,
Back on our Heads, with fatal Force are driv'n.
Those God has blest, no Guards nor Bulwarks need,
Nor can their Arms, whom he has curst, succeed.
Nor do's he, like unstable Man, repent.
The
Christian Army will prevail, that said,
Observing
Octa's Fury rise, he fled.
The King incens'd, cry'd, curst Magician fly,
Spite of thy Charms, and thee, shall Victory,
And Triumph, on the
Saxon Arms attend,
Against such Troops what Signs can ill portend?
Thy impious Tongue Propitious Heav'n belies;
And for the
Britons forges Prophecies.
Thy self of
British Blood, the
British Cause
Stronger than Wrongs, or ev'n Religion draws.
So oft poor Slaves, who to a neighbr'ing State
Fly for Protection from a Tyrants Hate,
If he does War against those Neighbours wage,
And with his Arms, upon their Frontiers rage.
Joy at th' Oppressor's Conquests and Success,
Against their own Protector's, they express.
Octa at this Defeat with Fury burn'd,
And to his Army with his Lords return'd.
Amidst his Troops he rode, and thus he spoke,
His Voice high rais'd their Courage to provoke.
Saxons, you now to certain Conquest go,
To glean the Reliques of a ruin'd Foe.
The Gods do loudly for your cause declare,
And call you, but to finish their own War.
Think on the Deeds by your great Nation done
The Towns they took, their glorious Battels won,
And the Rich Countries by their Arms o'er run,
From this fair Island shall the
Britons chase,
From these sweet Fields, great
Odin's warlike Race?
[Page 208]From these sweet Fields, for which our Leaders fought,
Which with the noblest
Saxon Blood were bought.
Shall we with ignominious Flight retreat,
O'er the rough Main, to seek some milder Seat?
Or shall we back to our cold Region go,
To hide in Caves, and dwell in Hills of Snow?
Can my victorious Friends the
Britons dread,
Who from your conquering Arms so oft have fled,
A vanquish'd Nation, by an Exile led?
Appear like
Saxons, add this Conquest more,
To all th' immortal Laurels won before.
Thus you'll the Grounds of lasting Empire lay,
And still the
Briton shall your Laws obey.
Vain with Success at Sea, they draw their Swords,
And for Dominion strive with us, their Lords.
Let now your Arms chastise their wanton Pride,
And then in unmolested Peace abide.
He said, and brandish'd high his threatning Launce,
And springing forward, bids his Men advance.
Now from the Hills th' embattel'd
Saxon Swarms,
And covers all the Plain with hostile Arms.
As when the great Commanders, Orders give
To quit the straight Dominions of their Hive,
The Bees pour out a numerous Colony;
From their sweet Cells, the busie Youth on high
Wheel in the Air, and darken all the Sky.
While brazen Pans charm and compose their Heat,
In some tall neighb'ring Tree they fix their Seat.
Thither th' unnumber'd Vulgar straight resort,
And clustring Crowds, surround their Monarch's Court.
So thick the
Saxons on the Field appear,
Following their Leader with an endless Rear.
[Page 209]The gloomy Throngs look terrible from far,
Disclosing slow, the horrid Face, of War.
The thick Battalions move in dreadful Form,
As lowring Clouds advance before a Storm.
So when the Sea grown black, the hazy Sky,
And rising Winds, foretel a Tempest nigh.
Th' experienc'd Mariners with hasty care
Furl their spread Sails, and for a Storm prepare.
Straight in the black
Horizon, to the Skies
The dusky Billows threat'ning Heads arise.
Th' unnumber'd Troops upon each others throng,
And with a gloomy Aspect march along.
Advancing, they their boundless Front extend
O'er all the Main, and fearful Wreck portend.
The
Saxon Host thus in its March appears,
And where it came, thick Groves of bristling Spears,
Broad Iron Backs, and Breast-plates, brazen Shields,
Mail-Coats, and burnish'd Helms o'erspread the Fields.
Chariots of War in Clouds of Dust advance,
And tossing up their Foam, the thundring Coursers Prance.
Their Army's Wings stretcht out, they to the Foes
A long extended Ridge of War oppose.
The
British Squadrons tho outnumber'd far,
Run boldly on the horrid Edge of War.
To make their Front, the thin Battalions ran,
But stretcht not equal to the
Saxon Van.
Both Armies thus, rang'd in Battalia stood,
And Death prepar'd her thirsty Jaws for Blood.
From the Celestial Host, a glorious Band
Of Seraphs was detach'd by high Command.
Hither the shining Warriours did repair,
And drawn in long Array, stood in the Air.
[Page 210]Their Blades divinely temper'd flam'd on high,
And blazing Shields inlighten all the Sky;
Impenetrable Shields, drawn from the Towers
Of Heav'n's high Ars'nal, fill'd with warlike Stores.
Th' Angelick Cuirassiers, in Armour shone
Of
Adamant, from Rocks Empyreal hewn.
High milk white Plumes, like Snowy Clouds arise,
From their bright Crests, and Nod against the Skies.
Rich Helmets, of Immortal beaten Gold
Adorn their Heads, Brass of Etherial mould
Refin'd above, their joynted Gauntlets made;
Brass, that the Teeth of Time can ne'er invade.
Broad silver Belts richly embroider'd o'er,
Rare Seraphs work, their shining Shoulders bore
And round them Sky-dy'd Purple Scarfs they wore.
Michael a Prince in Heav'n of first renown,
Who, like a Sun, high in his Chariot shone;
This bright Detachment did in Chief Command,
Charg'd to maintain strict Guard, and to withstand
Th' Attempts, that might by Hellish Fiends be made,
Sent by their Prince the Christian to invade.
While
Lucifer on the white Mountain's Head,
His black, Infernal Crew about him spread;
With Malice, Rage, and Pride extended sate
High on his dusky Throne, resolv'd to wait,
And see, if this important 'Day's Event,
Would answer with success, his curst intent.
In glitt'ring Arms the dazling Prince appears,
Before his Troops, the
Saxon sees, and fears.
His Helm of polish'd Steel brac'd round his Head,
Did o'er the Field, a glorious Terrour spread.
[Page 211]Bright Stones, and high rais'd Needle Work adorn
The shining Belt across his Shoulders worn.
His fatal Sword. the Bane of
Gothick Pride,
With fearful Grace hung by his warlike Side.
Odar the
Neustrian of this famous Blade
Inur'd to Victory, a Present made
To
Arthur, when from
Albion first he came,
To
Odar's Camp, to win Heroick Fame.
Lodar did with this Gift King
Odar grace,
A valiant Hero of the
Neustrian Race.
His radiant Shield, of Brass its outmost Fold,
Th' inmost temper'd Steel, the midst of Gold,
Was the rare Work of
Lycon's skilful Toil,
From which unpeirc'd, the sharpest Darts recoil.
Bright, like a Sun, it did fierce Glory dart,
Where might be seen pourtray'd with wondrous Art,
Strong Towns besieg'd, and famous Battels won,
And great Exploits by ancient Heros done;
Who to defend their Country, bravely fought,
By Men inspir'd, in sacred Volumes wrote.
Here th'
Israelites, kind Heav'n's peculiar Care,
Their famous Gen'ral
Ioshua leads to War.
The Rocky Desart past with wondrous Toil,
With Marches worn, and heavy with the Spoil
From vanquish'd
Baashan and King
Sihon won,
Where their illustrious Triumphs first begun,
Advance their Ensigns,
Canaan to invade,
Ripe by their full grown Sins for Conquest made.
To
Iordan's Streams they come, straight to his Head
His Waves roll'd back, obsequious
Iordan fled.
The naked Channel shews his sandy Face,
And gives the Fav'rite Nation leave to pass.
[Page 212]Th' astonish'd
Canaanites, like
Iordan, fly,
And weep to see their Guardian River dry.
Here valiant
Gideon, with his Troop by Night,
March'd out t' attack the haughty
Midianite.
The Foe, like Locusts, numberless was pour'd
Around the Vale, and all its Fruits devour'd.
But dreading
Gideon's Arms, the Spoilers fly,
And by his Sword, and by their own, they die.
King
Zeba, and
Zalmunna, with a throng
Of Captive Princes, draw their Chains along.
Here in the plain, stretcht like some spacious Wood,
In long Array, the throng'd
Philistines stood.
Goliah issuing from their opening Files,
Of Bulk stupendous, hideous with the Spoils
Of yellow Lyons slain, and shaggy Bears,
Towring before their shouting Host, appears.
With haughty Air, the wondrous Figure strode,
His Sword his Trust, and his right Hand his God.
Beneath his Weight the Vally seem'd to shake,
But his pale Foes did more than seem to quake
Gnashing his Teeth the grinning Monster stood,
Himself an Army, and his Spear a Wood.
Sufficient Stores whole Mines could scarcely yield,
For his wide Cuirass, and prodigious Shield.
Where Figures pourtray'd of fierce Monsters shone,
But none so fierce, and monstrous as his own.
High in the Clouds his brazen Helm did show
Like some vast Temple's gilded
Cupilo.
His mighty Legs, that brazen Boots embrac'd,
Tall Pillars seem'd, with
Corinth Mettal cas'd.
Thus arm'd he stood, and by his Mein did seem
To curse aloud, to threaten and blaspheme.
[Page 213]His beck'ning Hand held proudly up, invites
To combate, all the trembling
Hebrew Knights.
Tho vast of Bulk he bigger swells with Pride,
He curst their Army, and their Gods defy'd.
Here, God-like
David, in the flowry Bloom
Of Youth, and Beauty, brings the Monster's Doom.
To kindle Love, or Pity fitter far,
Then the rough Passions, that attend on War.
And likelier by his Youth's engaging Charms
To wound the
Anakite, then with his Arms.
Yet bravely he embrac'd th' unequal War,
And scorn'd his Rage that curst him from afar.
The fatal Stone by the young Hero flung,
Cut thro' the Air, and sure of Triumph sung.
It pierc'd the
Cyclops Head, his Carcass fell
Swift to the Ground, his Soul, as swift to Hell.
Faln on his Face, he bites the trembling Ground.
And Brains, and Gore break thro' the gaping Wound.
Wallowing he lay a vast extended Load,
Like a great Island, in a Sea of Blood.
His gastly Eye-balls strive with parting Light,
And swim, and roll into eternal Night.
Here
Saul receiv'd the charming conquering Boy,
The Captains blush'd for Shame, and wept for Joy.
His Brothers griev'd to see the glorious Day,
Prompted with Pride, and Envy shrunk away.
Here
Iudah's Daughter flowry Garlands bring,
They crown young
David, and presage him King.
In Songs and Dances they his Deeds proclaim,
And
Saul's is lessen'd, to advance his Fame.
Here mighty
Sampson, hot with Martial Rage,
A numerous Army does alone engage.
[Page 214]His Sword high wav'd, reeking in Sweat and Blood,
O'er slaughter'd Heaps, th' invading Conquerour strode
His fatal Arms, his Foes no longer bear,
But their whole Host flies from his single Spear.
Confus'dly o'er the Field lay spread about,
Wide Ruin, Spoils, and ignominious Rout.
Here valiant
David's Troops victorious come,
From their
Assyrian Expedition home.
Vast were the Spoils, that from the glorious Day
Won on
Damascus's Plains, they bore away.
King
Hadadezer's Arms in Triumph born,
And Purple Robes by their soft Princes worn,
And sparkling Gems, that did their Ears adorn.
Rich Collars, Chains, and blazing Shields of Gold,
Vast Silver Bowls, that richer Metal hold.
High gilded Dishes, graven or emboss'd,
Treasure immense, that
Syria had engross'd.
Purple Pavilions once in lofty Rows,
And Crimson Beds, where Monarchs did repose.
Unnumber'd Camels, laden and opprest,
With all th' Luxury of the wanton East,
Beneath the Booty groan'd along the Road,
Themselves a Prey, as was their precious Load.
Here ran gilt Chariots drawn by generous Steeds,
Such as the noble Soil of
Asia breeds.
Here Royal Captives, and chain'd Lords appear,
And vulgar Slaves, prest with an endless Reer.
Here the great
Constantine of
British Race,
O'er
Tyber's Bridge, does fierce
Maxentius chase.
With
Roman Blood the swelling Rivers dy'd,
And Helms, and Shields roll down the Crimsom Tyde.
Spears, broken Armour, Men, and Coursers slain,
The Streams encumber, and the Flood detain.
[Page 215]Great
Constantine in glitt'ring Armour shines,
And pressing on, breaks thro' the
Roman Lines.
Maxentius Hopes are blasted in the Bloom,
He flies, and opens wide the Gates of
Rome,
To the Victorious Christian, and his God,
Where for a while, he made his blest abode.
Prince Arthur.
BOOK VIII.
THus in resplendent Arms Prince
Arthur shines,
Darting bright Terrour thro' the
Saxon Lines.
All at his fearful Presence were amaz'd,
And on the glorious Foe with Wonder gaz'd.
Confusion seiz'd them, and a chilling Damp
Went to their Hearts thro' all the trembling Camp.
And now the vaulted Sky rings with the Noise
Of Souldiers Shoutings, and shrill Trumpets Voice.
The
British Prince waving his flaming Blade,
The
Saxon's strong Battalions did invade.
First
Baldred fell a bold and daring Knight,
That rushing forward did his Fate invite.
The Javelin thro' his Shield of treble Hide,
And Coat of Mail, pierc'd deep into his Side.
Eska the second Triumph did afford,
His Head strook off by
Arthur's conquering Sword.
Next groveling on the Ground great
Ina lies,
And the brave
Orla of stupendous Size.
Whose Clubs like that
Alcides us'd to weild,
Laid whole Brigades, on Heaps upon the Field.
Neither their Arms, nor Stature, nor Descent,
From mighty
Osca could their Fate prevent.
As
Pharo boasted loud, and threatn'd Death,
The Javelin pierc'd his Throat, and stop'd his Breath.
[Page 218]
Kinullar next the conquering Prince withstood,
A valiant Captain, and of noble Blood.
Resisted by his Shield the
Saxon's Spear
Flew off, and pass'd obliquely thro' the Air.
Here on the Prince
Cissa exclaiming loud,
Rush'd in, and pres'd him with a numerous Crowd.
Thick showers of Javelins with a mighty Sound,
Like Storms of Hail, from his bright Shield rebound.
The Prince enrag'd caught up his Spear in hast,
Which he at
Cissa with such Fury cast
It pierc'd his famous Buckler's seventh Fold,
And his Rich Coat dawb'd thick with pond'rous Gold.
Then deep between the Paps the Weapon went,
And its last Force in his warm Bosom spent.
Flat on his Face the Bleeding
Saxon lies,
And rat'ling in his Throat stretcht out, and dies.
Mollo rush'd in and with his hand did wrest
The bloody Weapon from his Brother's Breast,
And boldly to attack the Prince advanc'd,
But from his shield th' unprosperous Weapon glanc'd.
The Prince's spear thro'
Mollo's Shield of Brass
Thro' His Habergion, and his Breast did pass.
Mollo of Sense bereav'd fell to the Ground,
And spew'd black Blood, both for his Mouth and Wound,
Striving th' invading Hero to repel,
Alcinor, Peda, and
Darontes fell,
Three Men of wondrous Strength and warlike Fame,
Who from the farthest Snows of
Scythia came;
Descended all from
Otha's noble Line,
Whose glorious Deeds in
Saxon Records shine.
He was victorious
Odin's constant Friend,
And all his Toils, and Conquests did attend,
[Page 219]Then
Cerdic with his Troops the Prince withstands,
Sustain'd by
Sebert, and th'
East Saxon Bands.
Now these, now those, the
British Prince attack,
And press on every side, to force him back.
As when two adverse Hurricanes arise,
Must'ring their stormy Forces in the Skies.
Of equal Fury, and of equal Force,
Against each other bend their rapid Course.
The Clouds their Lines extend in black Array,
And Front to Front a fearful War display.
Exploded Flames against each other fly,
And fiery Arches Vault th' inlighten'd Sky.
Conflicting Billows, against Billows dash,
Thunder 'gainst Thunder roars, Lightnings 'gainst Lightnings flash.
Nor Flames, nor Winds, nor Waves, nor Clouds will yield,
But equal strength maintains a doubtful Field.
Britons and
Saxons thus in Battel strove,
And neither from their Ground the Foe remove.
Then Valiant
Cadwal threat'ning from afar
High in his Chariot, plung'd into the War.
His strong, extended Arm his Javelin flung;
Cutting the Air, the hissing Weapon sung.
Falling on
Kingills Shield it pierc'd the Hide
Of treble Fold, and enter'd deep his Side.
Fainting and stagg'ring
Kingill backwards reel'd
Then fell with sounding Arms upon the Field.
Gasping he lay, and from his ghastly Wound,
His Crimson Life ebb'd out upon the Ground.
And next his fatal Shaft at
Bertac flew
With mighty Force, and pierc'd his Breastplate thro'.
The secret Springs of Life the pointed Dart.
Broke open, and transfixt his generous Heart.
[Page 220]His Wound from gaping Channels inward bled,
And on his Shoulder hung his lolling Head.
He fell, and Shivering gasp'd his latest Breath,
And fainting sunk into the Arms of Death:
A noble Youth worthy of milder Fate,
But Death's blind Stroaks distinguish not the great.
At last the
Saxon Troops in Throngs surround,
The valiant King, Thus far with Conquest crown'd.
Thick Showers of Darts from every Side invade,
And in his Shield a bristling Harvest staid.
Th' undaunted Hero long their Force sustain'd,
And held at Bay; th' unequal War maintain'd:
Like a chaf'd Boar that in a sheltring Wood,
The clam'rous Dogs surround King
Cadwall stood.
A noble Rage did in his Breast arise,
And Streaks of Fire break from his burning Eyes.
So when by Night th' Islandian Ocean roars,
And rolls its angry Waters to the Shores.
Flashes of Light, and fiery Lustre glance
From raging Waves, that in bright Troops advance.
With his refulgent Sword the Warriour flew,
Upon the Crowd, and cut his Passage thro'.
Soga and
Kenrick from the Hilly Land
Where
Sorbiodunum's lofty Castles stand;
Two constant Friends, whom Fate could not divide,
Together by the
Britons Weapon dy'd.
Then
Redburg Alfry and
Theodrick fell,
Striving in vain the Victor to repell.
Great Numbers more he slew, whose vulgar Name
To those, in after Ages never came.
As a high Rock, which the vast Ocean laves,
Expos'd to stormy Winds, and raging Waves,
On its fixt Base unshaken does defy
Th' united Fury of the Seas, and Sky.
[Page 221]So 'midst surrounding Foes, brave
Cadwall stood,
About him flow'd a Sea of Hostile Blood.
He slew
Rovennar, with his mighty Sword,
And
Saradan a great west
Saxon Lord.
Valiant
Elmunor, to his Country dear,
And
Osith dy'd, by his projected Spear.
Octa enrag'd to see the numerous Spoils
Round
Cadwall spread, sprung thro' the thronging Files.
Rushing with Fury on, and threatning high
He thus aloud, did to the
Briton cry.
Cadwall on me let all your Force be spent,
Hither be all your pointed Javelins sent.
Here see a Foe that will your Pride abate,
Or in the glorious Combate meet his Fate:
At this his massy Spear with Vigour sent,
Thro' valiant
Cadwalls shining Buckler went.
Thro' all the Plates of Brass, and all the Plies
Of thick Bull's Hide, th' impetuous Weapon flies.
Which bruis'd his Thigh, and springing from his Veins
A crimson Stream his polish'd Armour Stains.
Cadwall incens'd his Spear at
Octa flung,
Which in his temper'd Shield arrested hung.
A second hissing Weapon
Octa cast,
Which th' interposing Buckler never past.
But glancing on the Steel, away it flew
And with an oblique Stroke,
Idwallo slew.
Then
Cadwall chaf'd, exerting all his Force,
His second sends, with unresisted Course.
Thro'
Octa's brazen Shield it Passage found,
Inflicting on his Side, a painful Wound.
Their missive VVeapons spent with equal Chance,
To closer Fight the Combatants advance.
[Page 222]Equal in Strength, alike in Combate brave,
Their Swords on high, like circ'ling Flames they wave.
Both traversing the Ground for Fight prepare,
And with Heroic Ardor meet the War.
And
Octa first discharg'd a noble Stroke
On
Cadwalls Crest, which thro' his Helmet broke:
Cadwall amaz'd, recoyl'd, and backwards reel'd,
And scarce his Spear his tott'ring Limbs upheld.
A loud Applause rang thro' the shouting Host;
The
Britons rag'd, and thought their Hero lost;
But he recov'ring from th' amazing Blow,
Collects his Strength to meet the insulting Foe.
His brandish'd Blade fell with prodigious Sway,
And thro' the yielding Cuirasse, forc'd its Way.
The gaping Wound pour'd out a Vital Tyde,
And Crimson Streams his burnish'd Armour dy'd.
Octa his wounded Body wreaths in Pain,
And viewing on his Limbs the Bloody Stain,
With angry Eyes calls back his Life again.
And then assaults the Foe with doubled Rage,
Who meets his Arms, as eager to engage.
Fresh Strokes, fresh Wounds, they give on either side,
While Vict'ry does for neither Sword decide.
VVeak with their VVounds, and with bruis'd Armour pain'd
An equal, noble Combate they maintain'd.
Feeble and Breathless still they keep the Field,
Unable more their blunted Arms to wield.
And now the Throng rush'd in, the Combat done
By neither Hero lost, by neither won.
And rending with their Shouts the tortur'd Air,
Back to their Files, the Combatants they bear.
So when two valiant Cocks in
Albion bred,
That from th' insulting Conquerour never fled.
[Page 223]A Match in Strength, in Courage, and in Age,
And with keen Weapons arm'd alike Engage;
Each other they assault with furious Beaks,
And their trim'd Plumes distain with bloody Streaks.
Each nimble Warriour from the Pavement bounds,
And wing'd with Death, their Heels deal ghastly Wounds.
By turns they take, by turns fierce Strokes they give,
And with like Hopes and Fears, for Conquest strive.
Both obstinate maintain the Bloody Field,
Both can in Combat dye, but neither yield.
Till with their bleeding Wounds grown weak and faint,
And choak'd with flowing Gore they gasp, and pant.
Disabled on the Crimson Floor they ly,
Both Honour win, but neither Victory.
Then
Morogan, his Javelin in his Hand,
Charg'd the fierce Troops where
Ella did Command.
Wigmunda, first his deadly Weapon felt,
Who on the flowry Banks of
Oza dwelt,
Faln on the ground, the
Saxon groan'd aloud,
And dying, lay deform'd with Dust and Blood.
Next
Ethelbright he slew, the Javelin past,
Thro' the brave Leader's Hand, where sticking fast
He from the Battel fled, and thro' the throng
Complaining loud, trail'd his huge Spear along.
To fight the
Briton, Thedred did advance
And in his Buckler broke his pondrous Lance.
High in the Air the scatter'd pieces flew,
When
Morogan, his ample Fauchion drew;
He mist the mighty stroke aim'd at his Crest,
But cleft his Shoulder down into his Chest:
Thro' the prodigious Wound, a Sea of Blood
Spouts from his Veins, and down his Armour flow'd,
[Page 224]Weltring in Gore, upon the Ground he stretcht,
And his last Breath in thick Convulsions fetcht.
Next he his Spear at great
Merthellan throws,
Thro' Breast, and Back, the deadly Weapon goes.
Then warlike
Ella, with excessive Rage
All fir'd, advanc'd the
Briton to engage.
As two chaf'd Lyons on a
Lybian Plain,
Contending which shall o'er the Desart reign,
With raging Eyes, and fierce erected Hair,
Scowr o'er the Sands, to meet the horrid War;
So furious
Ella, and great
Morogan,
Eager of Conquest, to the Combat ran.
The
Saxon first his massy Javelin flung,
With the vast Stroke, the
Briton's Target rung,
The Temper'd Steel the Weapon did repel,
Which flew aside, and at a Distance fell.
The
Briton next, did his bright Javelin throw,
Ella his Head inclin'd, eludes the Blow.
Ella with all his Might his second cast,
Which mist, but stroke the Plume off, as it past
The
Briton stop'd, and lifted from the Field
A pond'rous Stone, which both his Hands did weild,
So vast, that two in our degenerate Days,
Tho Men of Strength, the like can scarcely raise;
With all his Strength he throws the craggy Stone,
Which thro' King
Ella's Leg-piece, crush'd the Bone.
The wounded Warriour fell upon the Plain,
Adda advanc'd, the Conquerour to Sustain;
While
Gomel with his Men did
Ella bear
From the hot Place of Action, to the Rear,
Where Charioteer, and Steeds, and Chariot stay,
Waiting his coming from the Bloody Day.
Mean time great
Morogan, had
Adda slain,
The Spear had thro' his Forehead peirc'd his Brain.
[Page 225]Biting the Ground, th' expiring
Saxon lies,
And Death's unwelcome shade o'erspreads his Eyes.
And with like Courage, and with like Success,
The brave Prince
Conan did the
Saxons press,
Which
Osred led, great Numbers he destroy'd,
Whose putrid Blood, the slipp'ry Field annoy'd.
Sefred, Carantes, Molinoc he slew,
And
Ethelfrid, in Arms surpass'd by few.
Oswy, and
Bassa, all of warlike Fame,
And many more, of unrecorded Name.
Thus Valiant
Conan, triumph'd in the Field,
And all he met, did to his Courage yield.
Until a sculking, unknown hand, at last
Did unperceiv'd, a pointed Javelin cast:
Deep in his Arm, th' inglorious Weapon goes,
His Wound the Blood upon his Armour shows,
He drew the Steel out, from his bleeding Veins,
And from the Field, retir'd in tort'ring Pains.
Mean time, out-number'd in another part,
Macor's
Danmonian Troops began to start.
Macor to stop their ignominious Flight,
And give them Spirit to renew the Fight;
Now sharp Reproaches us'd, and bitter Threats,
And now with Prayers he earnestly intreats.
Enrag'd, ashamed, and fearing open Rout,
Exclaiming loud, he wildly flew about.
He stays them with his Hands, and Voice, and Eyes,
And to confirm their sinking Courage, cries,
Whither will my
Danmonians madly run,
And leave behind a Vict'ry almost won?
What pannick Fear does my brave Friends invade?
Till now, you never knew to be afraid.
[Page 226]Think on the Brav'ry you have always shown,
And Laurels you and your great Fathers won.
By their great Deeds, and yours, by
Cador's Name,
By all my Hopes and yours which are the same.
By the
Danmonian Fame, I all conjure
Trust not to Flight, your Arms must you secure.
Who will maintain their Ground, if you recoil?
Thus do you mean to guard your Native Soil?
To what new Seats will you from
Albion fly?
Or will you in the Rocks and Mountains ly?
Britons return from your inglorious Flight,
Rally your Forces, and renew the Fight.
To Safety, and to Fame the way I'll show,
See, here it lies, across the thickest Foe.
He said, and straight amidst the Troops he flew,
Osher the first he met, the first he slew.
He pierc'd his Belly thro' the yielding Shield,
And out his Bowels gush'd upon the Field.
To aid his Friend, constant
Eballan flies,
But wounded by the
Briton, with him dies.
Then while
Adulphas, Bertham's Offspring stands,
Poising a pondrous Stone in both his Hands,
The mighty Fragment of a craggy Rock,
And aim'd at
Macor's Head, a deadly Stroke.
Thro' his pierc'd Side the Javelin made its Way,
And buried, in his bleeding Liver lay.
Then you brave Youths,
Egbert, and
Alopas,
Both noble Branches of great
Horsa's Race,
Their Age the same, the same their youthful Charms,
Fell in the
British Fields by
Macor's Arms.
This 'twixt the Ribs receiv'd the fatal Dart,
Where transverse Bounds the Breast and Belly part.
[Page 227]Lopt from the Shoulder with a fearful Wound,
T' other's Right Arm lay quivering on the Ground.
Now the
Danmonians who began to run,
Seeing the Wonders by their Leader done,
With Shame and generous Indignation burn,
And to the War with doubled Rage return.
Then
Macor let his Spear at
Redwall fly
In his bright Chariot, passing swiftly by.
It pass'd his Shield, and went into his Reins,
A Purple Flood, springs from his wounded Veins,
And mixt with Dust, the fervid Wheels detains.
Projected headlong on the Ground he lay,
Fetch'd a deep Groan, and gasp'd his Life away.
With like Success his Men no more afraid,
Of
Saxon Arms, their thickest Files invade.
So when dissolv'd by Summer Rays, the Snow
Do's down the Sides of
Alpine Mountains flow,
Below the several Rills, and Currents joyn,
And different Streams in one great Flood combine.
Then do's the Deluge rear its foaming Head,
O'er-flow the Banks, and o'er the Meadows spread.
No lofty Mounds arrest th' insulting Tide,
But o'er the flowry Vale, the Waves triumphant ride,
So the
Danmonian scatter'd Troops unite,
And with associate Arms, revive the Fight.
Here to restrain
Macor's victorious Course,
Bartha, oppos'd a fresh collected Force.
From his strong Arm his singing Javelin flew,
And passing thro' his Neck
Guitardan slew.
He hurl'd his Ball of Iron at the Head
Of stout
Gomallador, and struck him dead.
[Page 228]His Helm in Pieces flew, his Bones were crash'd.
And from his Scull his Blood and Brains were dash'd.
Macor incens'd, advances to the Fight,
And pray'd to Heav'n, to guide his Weapon right.
Nor did he pray in vain, th' unerring Dart
Transfixt his Breast, and sunk into his Heart.
Strong
Bartha fell, the Blood his Armour stains,
And shivering Death crept cold along his Veins.
But to revenge so great a Captain's Fall,
Lothar aloud does on his
Saxons call.
First
Lodoic he slew, who stood the Shock,
Of War before unshaken as a Rock.
Strong
Mandubrace, of whom the
Britons tell
Such mighty Deeds, by the brave
Saxon fell.
Beauteous
Codunan the
Silurians Pride,
And warlike
Hanomer together dy'd.
Their Leaders brave alike, alike enrag'd
The
Britons, and the
Saxon close engag'd
An obstinate, and bloody Fight maintain,
And Heaps of Dead, ly thick upon the Plain.
Dark Clouds of Dust thro' th' airy Region fly,
And warlike Noise bounds from the vaulted Sky.
Helms mixt with Helms, and Arms with Arms unite
Their bright Reflexion, to oppress the Sight.
Now Man at Man, Squadrons at Squadrons rush,
And Files at Files with Spears protended push.
Swords clash with Swords, Bucklers on Bucklers bray,
And thro' the Field a horrid Din convey.
Slaughter and Death in dreadful Pomp appear,
And Brains, and Gore, the slippery Field besmear:
So when two adverse Tides their Waves advance,
With equal Fury, and with equal Chance;
The foaming Forces, doubtful Fight maintain,
Where both by Turns loose, what by Turns they gain.
[Page 229]On this Side now retreats the vanquish'd Tide,
And on its back th' insulting Billows ride.
Rallying its roaring Troops with swift Career,
It soon returns, and reassumes the VVar.
The Conquerour before is forc'd to yield,
And rolling back its Waves deserts the Field.
Alternate Conquest, and alternate Flight,
Between the Foes prolong a doubtful Fight.
So thick the Troops, so fast and close were prest,
The wedg'd Batalions standing Breast to Breast,
They scarce have space their Hands or Arms to move
But like contending Waves each other shove.
Here
Macor urges, presses, and invades,
Here
Lothur stops him with his strong Brigades.
Equal in Arms, in Beauty, and in Age,
But not allow'd each other to engage,
On both the valiant Youths a different Fate,
From a far greater Foe does shortly wait.
King
Cerdick then advanc'd exclaiming loud
And with his rapid Chariot cuts the Crowd.
And to the Troops that stopt his way, he cry'd
Open to right and left, your Ranks divide,
Macor and I this Contest will decide.
Nor did the
Saxon Troops his Will oppose,
But open, and an Ample Space disclose.
Then leaping to the Ground his pondrous Oak,
Pointed with polish'd Steel, he threatning shook.
At such a Sight th' amaz'd
Danmonians start,
And their chill Blood congeal'd about their Heart.
Macor undaunted, traverses the Ground,
And at the
Saxon aims a fatal Wound.
Then thro' the Air his Spear projected flew,
And from its Sheath his slaming Sword he drew.
[Page 230]The Buckler's Brims the glancing Weapons raz'd
And flying off, on the right Shoulder graz'd.
Then
Cerdick's Javelin pois'd, and aim'd with Care,
Flew from his Arm, and hissing cut the Air.
Who cry'd out as it went, go swiftly fly,
And the hard Metal of his Armour try.
While
Cerdick thus insults th' impetuous Oak,
Thro' Buckler, Coat of Mail and Cuirass broke,
And pierc'd his Breast where the deep Springs abide,
Whence Life leaps out upon its circ'ling Tide.
The Vital Streams thro' his bruis'd Armour spout,
While he in vain wrests the warm Weapon out.
After the parting Dart, together crowd
From the wide Wound, his Soul, and Life, and Blood.
He fell, his Arms upon his Armour rung,
And Death in cold Embraces round him clung.
Thus fell the brave
Danmonian who had slain,
Such Numbers pil'd on Heaps upon the Plain.
His Friends with Sighs, and Tears upon a Sheild,
Bear his pale Corps off from the bloody Field.
Cerdick his Weapon warm with
Macor's Blood,
Advanc'd with Fury not to be withstood.
With his drawn Sword he does the Foe invade,
And midst their Ranks prodigious Havock made.
The
Britons all enrag'd at
Macor's Fall,
With Showers of Darts the raging
Saxon gaul.
On every Side the Monarch they assail,
With thick Brigades, but cannot yet prevail.
As when a mighty Stag, that long had stood,
The unmolested Monarch of the Wood,
Safe in its Coverts, and protecting Shade,
Against the Foe, that would his Peace invade:
At Bay, by furious Dogs too closely chas'd;
Fearless he looks and to his clam'rous Foes,
Does his thick Grove of Native Arms oppose
The Dogs with distant Cries infest the Ears,
And from a far the Huntsmen cast their Spears.
None daring to approach the generous Beast,
Project aloof their Darts against his Breast,
Thus
Cerdick stood, nor dar'd the boldest Knight,
Advance to undertake a closer Fight.
They cast their Darts at distance, and from far
Shower on his Brazen Shield a ratling War.
With their loud Cries the ambient Air they rend,
And raging, all their missive Weapons, spend.
Mean time around, King
Cerdick's Jav'lins flew,
And
Arthurs Men, with vast Destruction slew.
Cadwan he kill'd, whose Arms great Fame had won,
And
Vortiger great
Ganumara's Son.
Then
Vogan fell and
Ottocar who trace
Their high Descent from
Hoel's ancient Race.
Great Numbers dy'd where the chaf'd
Saxon flew,
And with his Sword cut his wide Passage thro'
So when a generous Bull for Clowns Delight,
Stands with his Line restrain'd, prepar'd for Fight.
Hearing the Youths loud Clamours, and the Rage,
Of barking Mastives eager to engage.
He snuffs the Air, and paws the trembling Ground,
Views all the Ring, and proudly walks it round.
Defiance lowring on his brinded Brows,
Around disdainful Looks, the grisly Warriour throws.
His haughty Head inclin'd with easie Scorn,
Th' invading Foe high in the Air is born,
Tost from the Combatant's victorious Horn.
[Page 232]Rais'd to the Clouds, the sprawling Mastives fly,
And add new Monsters to th' affrighted Sky.
The clam'rous Youth, to aid each other call,
On their broad Backs to break their Fav'rite's fall.
Some stretcht out on the Field lie dead and some
Dragging their Entrails on, run howling Home.
But if at last on all Sides he's engag'd,
By fresh and fiercer Foes, strait all enrag'd
He flies about, some with his Horns He gores,
Some strikes, and mov'd with Indignation roars.
With Disproportion'd Numbers prest at length,
He breaks his Chain collecting all his Strength.
Then Dogs and Masters scar'd promiscuous fly,
And fal'n in Heaps, the pale Spectators ly.
He walks in Triumph, nods his conquering Head,
And proudly views the Spoils about him spread.
Hyalca fell, a Lord of
Neustrian Birth,
Struggling with Death, he bites the hostile Earth.
Rivollan dies, the brave
Armorican,
Who swifter than a driving Tempest ran.
Mador, not daring
Cerdick to engage
Fled from his Post to scape the Conquerors Rage.
Cerdick pursu'd him close, exclaiming loud,
And to o'ertake him, breaks th' opposing Crowd.
As when a Lyon on the Mountains spies,
A well grown Stag, his furious Bristles rise,
And yawning horribly, with Hunger prest,
Away he flies to tear the trembling Beast.
He leaps upon him with his dreadful Paws,
And buries in his Sides his fearful Jaws.
So raging
Cerdick flew faln
Mador dies,
And everlasting Night shuts up his Eyes.
Ludvalla, from the high
Silurian Hills
Eldubert slew,
Poel Edella kills,
Chelrick Adarc, Tudor pierc'd
Alwy thro',
Oswoll Pricarden, Oven Kensey slew.
Bladoc kills
Athelmar in single Fight
Of goodly Stature, and a valiant Knight.
Edwin gave
Vortimer his fatal Wound,
Who from his Steed, fell headlong to the Ground,
Lovellines Blood the great
Barnulfa spills
Kentwin Rodollan, Pricel Ussa kills.
Now equal Ruin rag'd on either Side,
And Vict'ry mutual Favours did divide,
Flowing, and Ebbing with an equal Tide.
With like Success, by turns the doubtful Field
The Victors and the vanquish'd, win and yield.
Such was the bloody Labour of the Day,
And in such even Scales their Fortune lay.
Now certain Fame had reach'd Prince
Arthur's Ear,
That his lov'd
Macor dy'd by
Cerdick's Spear.
No Tydings more his Fury could provoke,
Or strike into his Breast a deeper Stroke.
His Looks reveal'd his Wound, and Grief, and Rage,
His conquering Arms in deep Revenge engage.
With his refulgent Sword he hew'd his way,
Like grass mown down the slaughter'd
Saxons lay.
His Stroaks are all as sure, as those of Fate,
And Death and Vict'ry on his Progress wait.
His Arms the Field with vast Destruction clear.
Wide Lanes made by his Sword and spatious Voids appear.
Thro' their thick Ranks the raging Tempest flies,
And fearful Ruin all around him lies.
Ebissa, Edgar, Ethelburg he slew.
And
Ethelwoll who fled the Conquerors Sight,
But the swift Dart o'er took him in his Flight.
His deadly Spear at
Kenfred was design'd,
Who stooping down the hissing Death declin'd.
Then at the Conq'rour's Feet he prostrate falls,
And in sad Accents for Compassion calls.
Spare, God-like
Briton, and let
Kenfred live,
Me to my Father and my Children give.
Treasures immense of Silver and of Gold,
My Iron Chests, and buried Coffers hold.
These Riches from the Sun, so long conceal'd
Shall to discharge my Ransome be reveal'd.
Mine's but a single Life, if that be spar'd,
It cant the Progress of your Arms retard,
On this does not depend your Empire's Fate,
Nor can my Life or Death affect your State,
He said to whom the
British Prince reply'd,
The Silver and the Gold your Cellars hide,
You to your Sons and Daughters must bequeath,
Expect your self, the present Stroke of Death.
That said, he took his Helmet by the Crest,
And drawing back his Head, into his Breast
Up to the Hilts, he plung'd his fatal Sword,
And from the Wound a crimson River pour'd.
Colmar hard by
Odin's and
Frea's Priest,
Distinguish'd by his Dress, from all the rest,
And by the Garland round his Temples known,
In glitt'ring Arms, and splendid Garments shone.
Up flew his Heels while from the Field he fled,
Nazaleod set his Foot, upon his Head,
[Page 235]And stroke into the Ground quite thro' his Breast
His pointed Spear, and his rich Spoils possest.
Then
Arthur with his Spear, pierc'd
Rufa thro',
Then
Osmor, Seward Ethellar he flew
Osa Beorno, Kendred, Ediswall,
Penda, Kenelmar, Osbert, Ethelbal.
Pale
Oswald fled, the Conq'rour to prevent,
But thro' his Back the swifter Javelin went.
His flaming Sword, did ne'er in vain descend
But sure Destruction did its Sway attend.
The reeking Conquerour in Triumph reign'd,
Glutted with Slaughter, and with Blood distain'd.
Th' unnumber'd Dead, that round the
Briton lay
More then their living Troops, obstruct his way.
To reach their Men, that from his Fury fled,
He climbs their slaughter'd piles, and scales the Dead.
Sometimes the
Saxons with new Fury burn,
And rallying Squadrons to the War return:
They pour around the Prince their numerous Swarms,
And strive to crush him with unequal Arms.
As when Tempestuous Storms o'erspread the Skies,
In whose dark Bowels in born Thunder lies.
The watry Vapours numberless conspire,
To smother, and oppress th' imprison'd Fire.
Which thus collected gathers greater Force,
Breaks out in Flames, and with impetuous Course
From the Cloud's gaping Womb in Light'nings flies,
Flashing in ruddy Streaks, along the Skies.
So
Arthur's flaming Sword cuts thro' the Cloud,
Around him spread, and rends th' opposing Crowd.
With daz'ling Arms, he flies upon the Foe,
Flashes amidst the throngs, and terribly Thunders thro'.
[Page 236]
Authum and
Alfrid, with fresh Troops sustain,
Their stagg'ring Squadrons, and the War maintain,
To these Prince
Arthur wing'd with Fury flew,
And first stout
Alfrid with his Spear he slew.
Thro the left Groin, the Weapon made its Way,
And stretcht along the Ground, the bleeding
Saxon lay.
At
Authum's Crest he dealt a furious Stroke,
The
Saxon totter'd at th' amazing Shock,
And fell upon his Knee, and while he pray'd
And for his Life would many Things have said,
His sever'd Head off, from his Shoulder flies,
And bounded on the Field, his Body lies
At a great Distance, quivering on the Ground,
And Streams of Blood spring from his ghastly Wound.
As when the Summers Soultry Heats draw forth,
Th' exhaling Moisture from the thirsty Earth,
When scorching Rays the gaping Plains have fry'd,
And from their Banks contracted Streams subside.
If then a Fire invades a spaeious Wood,
Where Ancient Oaks have long securely stood;
The conquering Flames advance with lawless Power,
And with contagious Heat the Trees devour.
The spreading Burning lays the Forrest waste,
And sooty Spoils lie smoaking where it past.
So
Arthur with resistless Rage around,
Destroys and loads with slaughter'd Heaps the Ground.
Next did the Prince at bold
Edburga aim,
Who from the fertile Banks of
Abum came
Prince
Unna's Son to vast Possessions born,
Broad Flowers of Gold his shining Coat adorn,
The piercing Steel deep in his Bosom sunk,
And Life's pure Stream at the warm Fountain drunk,
[Page 237]His Arms did next valiant
Titullan meet,
Who fell and quiver'd at the Conquerour's Feet.
Osrick and beauteous
Hengist next appear,
The first his Fauchion slew, the last his Spear.
Next stout
Eldanor did his Fate provoke,
And off his Head flew, at a single Stroke.
And next he threw at
Labert, as he fled
The Weapon struck him, as he turn'd his Head.
In Gore and Brains the glitt'ring Javelin reeks,
And from his Veins a Purple Torrent breaks.
Mean time King
Cerdic did around destroy,
And with thick Deaths his massy Fauchion cloy.
Him from afar the
British Hero spies,
And wing'd with Fury to assault him flies.
Cerdic mean time undaunted did appear,
And forward step'd, shaking his dreadful Spear.
Like one of
Anak's mighty Sons he stalk'd,
Or some tall Oak, that after
Orpheus walk'd.
Fixt like a vast
Colossus by his Weight,
He stood, expecting his approaching Fate.
Lowring, like rising Tempests from a far,
He rages, and invites th' advanc'ing War.
Now the
Britannic Hero did appear,
Within the Reach of his prodigious Spear.
King
Cerdic curst, and by his Gods defy'd
The
Briton, and aloud to
Odin cry'd;
The glitt'ring Arms, by this gay Robber worn,
Great
Odin soon thy Temple shall adorn.
Assist great Founder of our State the Dart
I cast, and guide it to his impious Heart.
Then from his vig'rous Arm his massy Spear
Projected sung, and hiss'd along the Air.
[Page 238]Off from the temper'd Shield the Weapon flew,
Wounded
Glendoran, and
Alantor flew.
Then his long Spear the pious
Briton cast,
Th' impetuous Steel thro' all the Thickness past
Of Brazen Plates, rowl'd Linnen, tough Bulls Hide,
And entring deep, did in his Groin abide.
The fainting
Saxon fell upon his Knees,
Pain'd with his ghastly Wound, and trembling fees
The Conquering Prince advancing to asswage,
By striking off his Head, his veng'ful Rage.
Here the brave
Lothar that had Wonders done,
And by his Arms Immortal Praises won,
For thro' the Host, the loud Applauses rung
Of mighty Deeds atchiev'd by one so young.
Transported with his pious Care, to bring
Assistance to his Uncle, and his King;
Spur'd his hot Courser on, and forwards prest
Off'ring to
Arthur's Arms; his valiant Breast.
He bravely undertook th' unequal Foe,
To ward from
Cerdic's Head, the fatal Blow.
Then his long Spear he threw, with Manly Force,
But
Arthur's Buckler stop'd th' impetuous Course.
Th' applauding
Saxons gave a Shout to see
The Noble Youth's excessive Bravery.
But to his Prince's Aid in vain he flies,
Who by his former Wound expiring lies,
And everlasting Sleep shuts up his Eyes.
But then the
British Hero's Javelin fled
At
Lothar, but it pierc'd his Courser's Head.
Rais'd in the Air upright, the gen'rous Beast,
Gather'd his shiv'ring Feet up to his Breast,
Then springing strook them out, and stagg'ring round
Fell head-long with his Rider to the Ground.
[Page 239]A mighty Groan the dying Courser fetcht,
And on the Ground a breathless Carcass stretcht.
And here Immortal
Elda shall my Verse
Thy unexampled Deed of Love reherse.
Love which will universal Wonder raise,
And scarcely find Belief in future Days.
For whilst the
British Hero step'd with Speed,
To take off, with his Fauchion,
Lothar's Head,
Who with his Steed opprest, and wounded lies,
Fair
Elda rush'd between, and thus she cries,
Before your fatal Sword takes
Lothar's Life,
Victorious Prince, hear his unhappy Wife.
Faln on her Knees she did her Helm unlace,
And shew'd the charming Beauties of her Face.
The blooming Looks of Spring, and lovely Red
Of opening Roses on her Cheeks were spread.
Her Eyes, that sparkled like the Stars above,
Appear'd both th' Armory, and Throne of Love.
Where thousands of alluring Graces wait,
And mingling Charms form Love's triumphal State.
Bright
Ethelina her, and all excell'd,
She the next Place in Beauty's Empire held.
Nor did her Looks, less Admiration move,
While mild Confusion, Sorrow, Fear and Love,
With Beauteous Conflict, for the Vict'ry strove.
A Shower of Tears flow'd down her lovely Face,
Which from her Grief, receiv'd yet sweeter Grace.
At the great Conq'rour's feet she threw her Charms,
And lifting up to Heav'n, her snowy Arms
Aloud she spoke, a wretched Woman's Prayer
Great
Briton here, and my dear
Lothar spare.
[Page 240]Since first his Bride within his Arms I lay,
Scarce two full Golden Months are stoln away,
Which in Love's Calendar scarce make a Day.
With Prayers, and Tears, and tender Words I strove,
And all th' ingaging Arts of mournful Love;
To keep him from the Dangers of the Field,
And when th' obdurate Man refus'd to yield,
About him my despairing Arms I flung,
And on his Neck, o'erwhelm'd with Grief I hung.
I then conjur'd him, to avoid with Care
Your fatal Arms, so much renown'd in War.
Away he goes, and as he said, adieu,
He touch'd my Life, and my stretcht Heart-strings drew.
For still I fear'd that the heroic Fire
And thirst of Fame, that did his Soul inspire,
Would make him think no Dangers were too great,
Till rushing on your Arms, he urg'd his Fate.
My conscious Fears, this sad Event presag'd
If e'er with you, in Combate he engag'd.
Therefore in Arms I did my Limbs disguise,
And undertook this dang'rous Enterprize,
That if he rashly sought, so great a Foe,
I might between him, and your fatal Blow,
My Bosom interpose, and in my Heart
To save his dearer Life, receive the Dart.
Or if Occasion were, to intercede,
As now I do, and for his Safety plead.
I pray by all that is to Mortals dear,
By all the Gods that you, and we revere.
Let this sad Object your Compassion move,
Regard his Valour, and regard my Love.
Oh! Let his hapless Fate your Soul incline,
Pity his glooming Youth, or pity mine.
[Page 241]Oh, melt beneath divine Compassion's Charms,
Let not your Breast be harder then your Arms.
Save his dear Life, he of his Noble Line
The only Branch remains, as I, of mine.
Christians profess Compassion, Mercy, Love,
Sure such Distress should those kind Passions move.
Sheath in my Breast the Sword, and take my Breath,
But Oh, preserve this wondrous Youth from Death.
My self will to my Veins the Sword apply,
And to prolong his Life will gladly dy.
Hear pious Prince, his aged Father hear
Who thus entreats, or would if he were here.
Oh, spare the spring of all my Hopes and Fears,
The only Prop of my declining Years.
Your fatal Sword deep in my Bowels sheath
And for the Son's accepts the Father's Death.
If great Possessions, or if Gold would buy,
His far more precious Life, he shall not dy.
His Father will a mighty Ransome give,
And mine as much, say but the Youth shall live.
Let us your Prisoners be in Chains confin'd,
The Chains of Love will make those softer bind.
There his dear presence I may still enjoy,
And for his Ease my thoughtful Cares employ.
Free from the Noise of War, and anxious Fears,
I'll kiss his Wounds, and wash them with my Tears.
I'll watch his midnight Slumbers, and by Day,
My Love shall Solace to his Grief convey.
Let him be banish'd from the
British Isle;
I'll go, and share the lovely Wand'rer's Toil.
I'll follow thro' the swarthy burning, Zone,
No Flames can scorch me, fiercer than my own.
Our tender Words the savage kind will move,
They'll stand, and gaze, and wonder at our Love.
A flowry Paradise, when he is there.
O'er Snows with him and Hills of Ice I'll stray,
I know not how, but Love will find the way.
If his sharp Keel shall cut the Foaming Tide,
In the same Bark I'll on the Billows ride.
No stormy Winds my stable Soul shall move,
Or shake the strong Foundations of my Love.
But hurried with distracting Fears away,
And wild with Grief I know not where to stay,
And in a Maze of Thought I lose my Way.
Oh! let your generous Pity calm the strife
In my tost Soul, and save his precious Life.
Thus you'll not only Triumph o'er your Foe,
But o'er your self, and your own Vict'ry too.
Thus
Elda pray'd, nor did she pray in vain,
Her tender Accents did Admission gain
To the relenting, generous Prince's Breast,
Who thus the beauteous Supplicant addrest.
This unexampled Effort of your Love,
Does equal Wonder and Compassion move.
True Christian Captains are both brave and good,
Vict'ry pursue, but not with Thirst of Blood.
Revenge and Cruelty we disavow,
And only just and generous Arms allow.
Go, to your Tears your
Lothar's Life I give,
Pleas'd with each others Love together live.
Then
Cerdick slain on whom they trusted most,
A shivering Fear ran thro' the
Saxon Host.
The
Britons now believ'd the Battel won,
And sure of Conquest on their Squadrons run.
[Page 243]Prince
Arthur at their Head breaks thro' their Files
And covers all the Plain with hostile Spoils.
The
Saxon Troops dismay'd, began to yield,
And to the raging Conquerour leave the Field.
Mean time the Prince of Hell who anxious stood,
And from his Hill the bloody Labour view'd.
Seeing the
Saxon Troops at last give way,
Resolves the
Britons Progress to delay.
That thro' the
Angelick Guards he might escape,
His Form he chang'd to a fair
Seraph's Shape.
A mild
Celestial Youth, he did appear,
Drest in pure Robes of white Empyreal Air.
What once he was, the Fiend seem'd charming bright,
Conceal'd in Beauty, and disguis'd in Light.
Assuming meek and Heav'nly Looks he strove,
To imitate the loveliest Face above.
Then taking from the Mountain's Top his Flight,
Did straitway at th'
Angelick Camp alight.
And thus transform'd thro' the bright Camp he went,
As an Express from Heav'n to
Michael sent.
Along he march'd, and slily looking round,
While unobserv'd, a fair Occasion found
Of passing thro' their Lines, without Delay,
Swift as a Ray of Light, he shot away.
He mingles with the fighting Armies, where
He moulds to various Shapes, the thickn'd Air.
In
Sebert's warlike Form he did appear,
With
Arthur's gasping Head upon his Spear.
Which newly sever'd from his Body seems,
So fresh the Wound, so red the bloody Streams.
Britons he cry'd, learn hence your wretched State,
See your Destruction in your Leader's Fate.
[Page 244]The towring Hopes, you vainly once conceiv'd
Are sunk, nor can your Ruin be retreiv'd.
Whose Arms can guard your State now
Arthur's dead?
His Life, and with it, all your Strength is fled.
Fly
Britons hence, and to your Hills repair,
Fly to your Woods, and in your Caves despair.
Protected in your Fastnesses remain,
Stay not t' encrease the Number of the Slain.
Cold to their Hearts this Sight and Language went,
And thro their Veins a shivering Horrour sent.
Confusion and Despair their Souls opprest,
And their sad Looks their inward Wound confest.
Urg'd with their Fear, their Troops began to fly,
And leave behind th' unfinish'd Victory.
Prince
Arthur's Breast with Indignation burn'd,
Who from the fierce Pursuit reluctant turn'd,
To stop his Army's Flight, stay,
Britons, stay,
He cry'd, and blemish not this glorious Day.
Whence this Distraction, whence th' ungrounded Fear
And wild Despair, that in your Looks appear.
The Battel's won, the
Saxons quit the Field,
And to your Arms a perfect Conquest yield.
Let not the vanquish'd Foe escape Pursuit,
Ths Vict'ry's yours, stay but to reap the Fruit.
While thus he spoke, the
Britons stood amaz'd,
And on their Prince with Joy and Wonder gaz'd.
Their Grief dispell'd, their dying Hopes revive,
And joyfull Shouts proclaim the Prince alive.
Mean time the Sun declines, and dusky Night
Covers the
Saxons, and protects their Flight.
NOw did the beauteous Morn begin to rise,
Streaking with Rosy Light the smiling Skies.
Prince
Arthur rose, and solemn Thanks addrest
To Heav'n, that had his Arms with Conquest blest.
Then rode amidst his Troops, and one by one,
Their Bravery prais'd, and Conduct lately shown.
Dispensing great Rewards thro' all the Host,
To those whose Courage was distinguish'd most.
The
Britons in their turn express their Zeal,
And to the Prince the highest Love reveal.
The Heav'n's around with Acclamations rung,
And loud Applauses of the shouting Throng.
Then to the sacred Temples they repair,
In joyful Crowds to offer Praise and Prayer.
In low Prostration they the Soveraign Lord
Of Hosts Exalt, and future Aid implor'd.
Soon as their Hymns of Heav'nly Praise were sung,
High in the Temples they their Trophies hung.
Bruis'd Armour, broken Shields, and Standards torn
From the fierce Foe, the gilded Roofs adorn.
This Honour to th' Almighty Saviour done,
Prince
Arthur to his
Britons thus begun.
Thus far Success and Triumph on us wait,
And to our Arms, presage a prosperous Fate.
[Page 246]Propitious Heav'n is to your Part inclin'd,
And still more glorious Vict'ries Crowd behind.
The vanquish'd Foe can't long maintain the Field,
But must your ravish'd Lands and Cities yield.
Chase anxious Thoughts far from your Valiant Breast,
And on your Cause, and Heav'n's Protection rest.
A perfect Conquest shall your Labours Crown,
And your Victorious Arms, regain your own.
Fear not the Relicks of a Conquer'd Foe,
Their tott'ring State, falls with another Blow.
Now let no Funeral Honours be deny'd,
To these brave Men, that for their Country dy'd.
Let us with Sighs and Tears lament their Fate,
Who fell, while striving to support our State,
Ages to come shall their great Virtue praise;
Viewing the Tombs that on their Graves you raise.
And first the Prince to the Pavilion went,
Whither brave
Macor's breathless Corps was sent.
He lay extended on a Purple Bed,
With high rais'd Pillows, plac'd beneath his Head.
His Servants standing round their Grief exprest,
With old
Pendarvan sad above the rest.
Cador to him as to his faithful Friend,
For wise Instructions, did his Son commend,
His Counsels form'd his Youth, and did prepare
His Mind for all concerns of Peace, and War.
Now in his Face the deepest Grief appears,
He beats his Breast, and baths it with his Tears.
He wrings his Hands, and in his mournful Rage,
Tears off the hoary Honours of his Age.
Immoderate Grief in lamentable Sounds,
As
Arthur enter'd, thro' the Room rebounds.
[Page 247]The pious Prince with heavy Sorrow prest,
Burst out in Tears, and thus his Grief exprest.
Inexorable Death at every Heart
Without distinction, shoots her fatal Dart.
Could Beauty, Courage, Virtue, youthful Age
Move her Compassion, or divert her Rage;
Brave Youth, thou hadst escap'd, and liv'd to see
Our Triumphs, for a Vict'ry due to thee:
But all thy Charms by stronger Fate o'ercome,
Could not reverse th' Irrevocable Doom.
Oh! thy sad Sire, what swelling Grief will roll
Its stormy Tyde o'er his afflicted Soul?
Can he the News of
Macor's Death survive,
Or me, with whom he trusted him, forgive?
T'allay the smart may the
Danmonians tell,
How bravely
Macor fought, how Great he fell.
And how my own with
Cador's Grief contends,
He mourns the best of Sons, and I the best of Friends.
Our Hopes are gone, may the
Danmonians Cry,
And what
Britannia can thy Loss supply?
Then to Embalm the Prince he gave Command,
That he might send him to his Native Land.
Straight with hot Streams, they wash his Body o'er,
And purge his Skin from Dust and putrid Gore.
Then in
Arabian Spices, fragrant Gums,
Rare Aromatick Oyls, and rich Perfumes,
They lay his Snowy Body, which they fold
In Bands of Linnen, round him often roll'd.
Then from his Troops a Thousand Youths he chose,
That might a solemn Equipage compose.
That might accompany the Funeral State,
To the unhappy Father's Palace Gate.
[Page 248]Small Comfort for so great a loss, yet due
To the sad Sire, and all the Prince could shew.
Forthwith the
Britons weave with bending Sprigs
Of Willow Trees, and tender Oaken Twigs,
An easie Bier, and with soft Rushes spread,
Sweet Flowers, and fragrant Herbs, the lofty Bed.
The Roof on high fresh spreading Branches shade,
And here sublime the hapless Youth was laid.
Such on the Ground the fading Rose we see,
By some rude Blast, torn from the Parent Tree.
The
Daffodil so leans his languid Head,
Newly mown down, upon his grassy Bed.
Tho from the Earth no more Supplies they gain,
Their splendid Form in part, and lovely Hue remain.
Then a rich Garment, glorious to behold,
Pond'rous with Orient Pearl, and stiff with Gold;
A noble Present from King
Odar's Hand,
Receiv'd when
Arthur left the
Neustrian Land.
Upon the Bier his Royal Bounty threw,
The last Respect, that a sad Friend could shew.
A noble Portion of the wealthy Prey,
And Spoils gain'd from the Foe, on Cars they lay.
With Arms, and Standards, that himself had won,
The Trophies of the Wonders he had done.
Now the magnificent, and pompous Woe,
Does from the Camp, in sad Procession go.
The lab'ring Axle mourns along the Road,
And groans beneath th' uncomfortable Load.
The Horses slowly March, and mournful look,
As they their share of publick Sorrow took.
Pendarvan follows stooping with his years,
But more with Grief, and delug'd in his Tears.
[Page 249]Then
Macor's Chariot rolls, distain'd with Blood,
On which sublime amidst the War he rode.
His
War-horse Rapa, with black Trappings spread,
And he too seem'd to weep, is after led.
His Arms and polish'd Armour others bear,
His Golden Spurs, his Helmet, Shield, and Spear,
Then in long Order the
Danmonians mourn'd;
Their Spears turn'd backwards and their Bucklers turn'd.
Then
Arthur stood, and with sad Accent spoke;
Thus far I mourn the Fate I can't revoke.
Back I am call'd where Arms and bloody Strife,
With more sad Objects, must renew my Grief.
Farewel brave Youth, farewel, till we above,
Meet in the peaceful Realms, of Light, and Love.
He said no more, but turn'd and took his way;
Back to the Camp, which lofty Works survey.
Mean time ten Oratours from
Octa sent,
Arriv'd, and waited at the Prince's Tent.
Their Embassy a Truce was to obtain,
To clear the Field, and to inter the slain.
They urg'd that all Hostilities should cease,
Against the Dead, who ought to rest in Peace.
That all Heroick Conquerors ever gave,
To those, from whom they took their Lives, a Grave.
The
Saxons Prayer seem'd just, and ten days Truce,
Prince
Arthur granted for this pious Use.
To
Cador's Court the heavy Tydings came,
Born swiftly thither on the Wings of Fame.
Loud Lamentation thro' the Palace went,
And bitter Cries, give their strong Passion vent.
And universal Sorrow propagates.
Pale Faces, crossing Arms, dejected Eyes,
O'erflowing Tears, and deep, despairing Sighs,
Compose a finish'd Scene of Blackest Woe,
The Tragick place does all sad Figures show.
The Men like pallid Ghosts pass silent by,
Women outrageous in their Sorrow cry
Macor is dead, our Hopes too with him dy.
Thro' all the Streets prodigious Numbers flow,
And pour'd out from the Gates promiscuous go
To meet their Hero's Herse, with flaming Brands,
And Pitchy Torches lighted in their Hands.
Which in long Order shone along the way,
Disclos'd the Fields, and call'd back banish'd Day.
Soon as they spied the lofty Herse from far,
Attended with the Pomp of mournful War;
A lamentable Cry the Valley fills,
Eccho repeats it louder in the Hills.
Wild with their Grief, distracted with Despair,
They strike their throbing Breasts, tear off their Hair,
And with their piercing Screams disturb the Air.
Both Troops unite Rivals in Love and Grief,
And the sad Conquest seek with equal Strife,
As
Cador's Love no bounds his Sorrow knew,
Who from their Arms and Prayers distracted flew.
Close in his Arms he did the Corps embrace,
Kiss'd his cold Lips, and bath'd with Tears his Face.
A Scene so tender, such a moving Sight,
Melts all their Hearts, and does fresh Grief invite,
Touch'd with Compassion to th' afflicted King,
From their exhausted Eyes fresh Torrents spring.
[Page 251]When the fierce Tempest had its Fury broke,
With a deep Sigh th' unhappy Monarch spoke.
Oh, my dear Son! how mild had been my Doom,
Hadst thou escap'd, I suffer'd in thy Room.
This Sight kills worse than Death, Oh that the Dart
Had mist thy Breast, and pierc'd thy Father's Heart!
Oh, that to see this fatal Hour I live!
And thee, and all that's dear in Life survive!
Oh, how I wish Life's tedious Journey done,
The empty Name remains, the thing is gone!
But sure I shall not long thy Absence mourn,
I'll hast to thee, thou'lt not to me return.
My hoary Head with Sorrow to the Grave,
Makes hast, the best Repose my Troubles crave.
Thrice happy Wife remov'd from us below,
You have no share in this sad Scene of Woe.
My ill presaging Fears are now fulfill'd,
I started in my Sleep, and cry'd my Son is kill'd.
I knew too well warm Blood and youthful Age,
Eager with Fame, and fier'd with Martial Rage,
His Arms in greatest Danger would engage.
I pray'd, and oft conjur'd him to beware,
Not rashly to provoke unequal War.
He promis'd me while on his Neck I wept,
But oh, how ill has he his Promise kept?
I can't reproach the pious
Arthur's Name,
Nor on his Friendship sworn reflect the Blame.
If by divine, unchangeable Decree,
Untimely Fate,
Macor, attended thee;
T'is best that thou art fal'n with such Applause,
Asserting
Albion's and the
Christian Cause,
But why do my Complaints thus endless grow,
And why thus tedious my loquacious Woe?
[Page 252]Why from new Laurels should I thus detain
These valiant Troops, to hear my Sighs in vain?
Go,
Britons, to your Prince, at your Return,
Tell him I live, but only live to mourn.
I groan beneath the heaviest Load of Grief,
And spend, in Tears my sad Remains of Life.
May Heav'n his Arms with greater Triumph bless,
Great as his Vertues, let him meet Success.
Mean time must we this last kind Office pay,
And
Macor's Body to the Dome convey;
Where his illustrious Fathers lie interr'd
Who reign'd by Subjects lov'd, by Neighbours fear'd.
Soon as the Sun had with his early Ray
Depos'd the Shades, and re-enthron'd the Day.
The pious
Britons their slain Friends inter,
And on their Graves new Honours do confer.
Some with their Spades, and with sharp Axes wound
The groaning Earth, and casting up the Ground,
They form deep Vaults, and subterranean Caves,
Then fill up with their Dead, the gaping Graves.
Some cast up hilly heaps, and Mounts of Sand,
That for their Tombs, and Monuments might stand.
And to th' admiring
Britons might declare,
In future Ages what their Fathers were.
Some Stones erect of a prodigious Size,
That bear the Hero's Glory to the
Skies.
Mean time the
Saxons bear away their Dead,
Whose putrid Heaps, the bloody Field o'erspread.
Inumerable Piles they raise on high,
Which kindled fill with Smoak and flames the Sky.
With uncouth Cries, around the Fires they mourn,
Where vulgar Dead, in Heaps promiscuous Burn.
[Page 253]The Lords, and Officers of high Command,
They send attended with a warlike Band
Each to his City, there to be interr'd,
Where greater funeral Pomp might be conferr'd,
But fair
Augusta chiefly flow'd with Tears,
Where Grief in all her mournful Looks appears.
Distracted with ungovernable Woe,
Into the Streets in Crowds the Matrons flow.
Confusion in their Looks, and wild Despair,
They wring their Hands, and tear their flowing Hair
Parents on Children, Wives on Husbands call,
Sons mourn their Fathers, Maids their Lovers fall.
For their dear Brothers, Sisters, Tears are spent,
Servants their Masters, Friends their Friends lament.
All mingle Tears, their Cries together flow,
And form a hideous Harmony of Woe.
Pale Consternation sate on every Face,
They fear'd the Prince would soon invest the Place.
They oft reproach'd their Monarch's Breach of Word,
That had expos'd them to the Conquerour's Sword.
They wish'd that this destructive War might cease,
And
Ethelina be the Bond of Peace.
Octa's Affairs in this ill State appear,
Such was their publick Grief, and such their Fear.
Mean time the
Briton joyful Sports ordain'd,
For the great Vict'ry by their Arms obtain'd.
For Horsemanship the
Britons always fam'd,
To run a Course his generous Gifts inflam'd.
Desire both of the Prize, and loud Applause,
The
British Youth to mount their Coursers draws.
A neighbouring Hill ascending high, but slow,
Survey'd the Valleys, with his lofty Brow.
Extended lay, which shady Woods did crown.
The grassy Plains, and rising Groves appear,
Like a rich furnish'd, native Theater.
Where
Sylvan Scenes, their verdant Pomp display,
And charming Prospects to the Eye convey.
Soon as the Sun, had with his Rosy Light,
From the cold Air, dispell'd the dewy Night.
The
British Hero with a numerous Train,
Directs his Steps, to this delightful Plain.
Where high amidst his Friends he takes his Place,
VVho swarm'd around to view the noble Race.
Britons, Armoricans, and
Neustrians stood
Mingled below, the foremost of the Crowd
Stood
Eddelin in all his Youthful Pride,
His Purple Boots were of
Iberian Hide,
VVhich fast with Golden Buttons held, and grac'd
VVith Silver Spurs, his comely Legs embrac'd.
A flaming Ruban of
Sydonian Dy,
In a close Knot, his curling Locks did ty.
VVhich playing on his Shoulders flew behind,
Danc'd in the Air, and sported with the VVind.
Close to his well shap'd VVast, he wore his Coat,
Of Silk and Silver, by his Mother wrought.
A Cap of Crimson did his Head equip,
And as he walk'd, he slash'd his breaded VVhip.
His swarthy Groom his generous Courser leads,
That scarcely marks the Ground, so light he treads.
Swift as a Dove pursu'd, or Mountain Hind,
His nimbler Feet could overtake the VVind,
Leave flying Darts, and swifter storms behind.
Illustrious Blood he Boasts with equal Pride,
Transmitted to his Veins on either side.
The Sire
Augusta's Merchants, brought from
Thrace.
His inward Fire thro' his wide Nostrils flies,
And noble Ardor sparkles in his Eyes.
His well turn'd Limbs did Admiration move,
Where Strength, and Beauty for the Conquest strove.
His matchless Speed the Prize did ever gain,
From all the Rival Coursers of the Plain.
Next
Blanadoc upon the Plain advanc'd
And led behind his fiery Courser pranc'd.
Lightly equip'd, and ready for the Race,
He marches to the
Base with Manly Grace.
The gazing Crowd admire his comely Steed,
Nobly descended from the famous Breed,
That on the
Mauritanian Mountains feed.
And fam'd for Swiftness in the Dusty Course,
Of wondrous Beauty, and of wondrous Force.
And next to him the gay
Lanvallo came
Eager to win the Prize, and raise his Name.
His dapled Courser to the
Base advanc'd,
And neighing wantonly along the Champain danc'd.
His high Descent he did from
Draco trace,
The swiftest Courser of th'
Iberian Race.
A Race so famous for their speedy Feet,
Eurus himself, was not esteem'd more fleet.
So swift they run, that vulgar Fame declares,
The Western Winds, impregnated the Mares.
Next the fierce
Tudor comes into the Field,
That did to none for Art or Courage yield.
A Velvet Bonnet on his Head, and drest
For Lightness, in a thin embroider'd Vest.
And with his greedy Wishes grasps the Prize.
His well-train'd Courser was admir'd for Speed,
Sprung from
Calabrian, mixt with
British Breed.
Light'ning flew from his Eyes, and Clouds of Smoak'
Dark'ning the Air, from his large Nostrils broke.
None of the Rival Steeds arriv'd before,
More Wonder rais'd, or promis'd Conquest more.
Next
Trebor came upon a noble Horse,
And oft Victorious in the rapid Course.
He gently strok'd his Mane, and bid him shew
On this great Day, the Feet he us'd to do.
With many more, whose long forgotten Name,
Was ne'er enroll'd in the Records of Fame.
While round the
Base the wanton Coursers play,
Th' ambitious Riders in just Scales they weigh.
And those that by their Rules were found too light,
Quilt Lead into their Belts, to give them weight.
All things adjusted, and the Laws agree'd,
Each eager Rival mounts his generous Steed.
To whom th' indulgent Prince himself addrest,
And to inflame their Zeal these Words exprest.
Let no brave Youth despair of his Reward,
Due Gifts, and Honours are for all prepar'd.
Whoe'er are Rivals of the rapid Race,
Two costly Spears shall win, their plated Base
Glitters in Silver Sockets finely wrought
By rare Engravers, from
Germania brought.
Their Points are gilt, illustrious to behold,
Whence a deep Fring depends of Silk and Gold.
Besides a Back-sword whose well temper'd Blade,
Is of the fam'd
Iberian Metal made.
[Page 257]The happy Youth that smear'd with Sweat, and Dust,
Shall reach the Goal, midst loud Applauses first,
This Golden Goblet his Reward shall boast,
By
Damon wrought, with Figures high embost.
The second Conq'rour shall in Triumph wear,
In a rich Belt, this
Persian Scimiter.
The Haft's a costly Stone that Nature stains
With various Figures, and with Bloody Veins.
The chiefest Workmen of the curious East
Have in the inlaid Blade, their Art exprest.
The third shall win a noble polish'd Shield,
Three Coursers rarely pourtray'd on the Field.
The Signal giv'n by the shrill Trumpet's Sound,
The Coursers start, and scowr along the Ground.
So
Boreas starting from his Northern Goal,
Sweeps o'er the Mountains to the adverse Pole.
His furious Wings the flying Clouds remove,
From the Blue Plains, and spacious Wilds above.
Insulting o'er the Seas he loudly roars,
And shoves the tumbling Billows to the Shores.
While for the Palm the straining Steeds contend,
Beneath their Hoofs the Grass does scarcely bend.
So long and smooth their Strokes, so swift they pass,
That the Spectators of the noble Race,
Can scarce distinguish by their doubtful Eye,
If on the Ground they run, or in the Air they fly.
So when the Earth smiles with a Summers Ray,
And wanton swallows o'er the Valleys play.
In Sport each other they so swiftly chase,
Sweeping with easie Wings, the Meadow's Face,
They seem'd upon the Ground to fly a Race.
O'er Hills, and Dales, the speedy Coursers fly,
And with thick Clouds of Dust obscure the Sky.
[Page 258]With clashing Whips, the furious Riders tear
Their Coursers sides, and wound th' afflicted Air.
Never
Epirean, or
Arabian Steed,
Flew o'er the
Olympic Plains, with greater speed.
On their thick Manes the stooping Riders ly,
Press forwards, and would fain their steeds outfly.
By Turns they are behind, by Turns before,
Their Flanks and Sides, all bath'd in Sweat, and Gore
Such speed the Steeds, such Zeal the Riders shew,
To reach bright Fame, that swift before them flew.
Upon the last with spurning Heels the first
Casts storms of sand, and smothering Clouds of Dust.
The hindmost strain their Nerves, and snore, and blow,
And their white Foam upon the Foremost throw.
Eager of Fame, and of the promis'd Prize
The Riders seize the Mark with greedy Eyes.
Now Hopes dilate, now Fears contract their Breast,
Alternately with Joy, and Grief possest.
Thus far with equal Fate the Riders pass
Uncertain who should conquer in the Race.
But now the Goal appearing does excite
New warmth, and calls out all their youthful Might.
They lash their Courser's Flanks with Crimson dy'd,
And stick their goring Spurs into their side.
Their Native Courage, and the Riders stroke,
T' exert their Force, the generous Kind provoke.
Each springs out to the Goal with loosen'd Reins,
Works all his Nerves, and staring Eye-balls strains.
In this fierce Strife,
Tudor's the best for wind,
Shot forth, and left the panting Steeds behind.
Eddelin the other Rivals overpast,
Trebor came next,
Lanvallo was the last.
Draco, his Steed, had once unrival'd Fame,
When in the Pride, and Pomp of Youth he came;
[Page 259]Curvetting o'er the Plain, to win the Course,
All yielded to his Swiftness, and his Force.
Siff Limbs now shew his Age, with drudging Pace
He sweats behind, and labours thro' the Race.
Now
Tudor whips, and spurs his Courser on,
And near the Goal believ'd the Goblet won.
When running o'er a naked, chauky Place,
Slipp'ry with nightly Dew, and bare of Grass,
Up flew the Courser's Heels, and to the Ground
He, and the Rider, fell with mighty Sound.
The sudden Danger could not be declin'd
By
Eddelin, that follow'd close behind.
For stumbling on young
Tudor's hapless Horse,
His Floundring fell, and lost the hopeful Course.
The mean time
Trebor spur'd, and forwards sprung.
While all the Field with Acclamations rung.
First to the Goal his reeking Courser came,
Next
Blanadoc, Lanvallo third in Fame.
The Victors by the Goal triumphant stood,
Surrounded by the thick applauding Crowd.
When
Tudor rushing in, cries out of wrong,
And challenging the Prize, broke thro' the Throng.
The Judges over-rul'd the Youth's Demand,
Urging the first establish'd Rules should stand.
The Prince confirm'd their Sentence, and declar'd
Who first arriv'd, should have the first Reward▪
But on the two, that by ill Fortune crost,
The Vict'ry almost in Possession, lost,
Rich Marks of Royal Bounty he conferr'd,
And with his Smiles, their drooping Spirits cheer'd.
A famous Quiver wrought by
Didon's Hand,
With
Thracian Arrows stor'd, at his Commad
And cross his Shoulders hung the bright Reward,
Eddelin that never hop'd so mild a Doom,
Receives a silver Helm, and milk white Plume.
This Kindness to th' unfortunate exprest,
He gives the promis'd Prizes to the rest.
Arthur rose up, and all their Footsteps bend
Back to their Camp, which lofty Works defend.
And now the
Britons all their Hands employ,
To fetch Materials in, for Fires of Joy.
All to the Mountains, and the Woods repair,
And with their Labour fill the ecchoing Air.
They raise their Axes, and with toilsome Strokes;
Fell the tall Elms, and lop the spreading Oaks.
They bear the nodding Trees to every Town,
And from the Mountains, draw the Forrests down.
In every City with the shady Spoils,
The joyful Youth erected lofty Piles.
Nearer the Skies they raise th' aspiring Wood,
Than when before, upon the Hills it stood.
Soon as the Sun his Beamy Light withdrew,
And the brown Air grew moist with Ev'ning Dew:
The shouting
Britons, set the Piles on fire,
And tow'ring Flames to Heav'n's high Roof aspire.
Up the steep Air the ruddy Columns play,
And to the Stars their Rival Light convey.
Around the burning Piles the Crowds rejoyce,
And mingle Shouts, with the shrill Trumpet's Voice.
Heav'n's starry Arch with Acclamations rings,
While the glad Throng,
Arthur's loud Praises sings.
Let
Arthur live, the Towns and Fields resound,
Let
Arthur live, the ecchoing Hills rebound
[Page 261]The Evening thus in Mirth and Triumph past,
The
Britons to their Rest retir'd at last.
Mean time four Lords arriv'd from
Tollo, crave
Audience of
Octa, which the
Saxon gave.
To hear their Embassy, in regal State
High on his Throne, the
Saxon Monarch sate.
Duncan the cheif broke Silence thus, we bring
This Message from the great
Albanian King;
He is advanc'd, to give that powerful Aid,
Which by his Orator's King
Octa pray'd.
A valiant Host obeying his Command,
Whose conquering Swords, no force could yet withstand,
Who laid the
Caledonian Forrest wast.
And from their Forts the fierce
Meatian chas'd;
Halts on a Plain, three Leagues remov'd from hence,
Ready t' engage their Arms in your Defence.
But then our Leader prays, that when you come,
The
Britons all subdu'd, in Triumph home,
Fair
Ethelina may be then his own,
The bright Reward, that shall his Labours crown.
If to these happy Nuptialls you incline,
He'll straight with yours, his valiant Forces joyn.
Let not the
Saxons doubt great
Tollo's Arms,
Will free your Kingdom from the Foes Alarms
He said, forthwith
Octa in counsel sate,
A matter so important to debate.
When
Osred thus began,
Great Exigencies of our State perswade,
That we comply with this Proposal made;
We are compell'd by hard Affairs, to court
Th'
Albanian Arms, our Kingdom to support.
[Page 262]You know too well, how much the
Saxons Host,
Is weaken'd, by the Numbers we have lost,
When matchless
Arthur did our Troops invade,
What Havock his victorious Progress made.
What wide Destruction in our Army rag'd,
Where'er his fatal Weapons were engag'd.
Our frighted Troops, when he advances, fly
Swift as the Clouds, the Winds chace thro' the Sky.
But valiant
Tollo, rivals
Arthur's Fame,
Equal their Courage, and their Strength the same.
Against the
Briton He'll the Field maintain,
And on his Buckler his vast Strokes sustain.
No stronger Champion travers'd yet the Field,
To him or none the
British Prince must yield.
Kind Heav'n has sent a Man so great, and Brave,
From
Arthur's Arms, our threatn'd State to save.
I would not then his just Desire withstand,
But let him know, you grant him his Demand.
This Grant to such a Prince we must allow,
Was always fit, but necessary now.
He ceas'd, and next
Pascentius silence broke,
And wisely thus th' attentive Peers bespoke.
I once advis'd that to preserve the State,
We should strict Friendship with Prince
Arthur make.
That we
Britannia should between us share,
And with the Princess Nuptials end the War.
The Terms propos'd the
British Hero please,
And all things seem'd to promise lasting Peace.
But when we were inform'd the
British Host
Had half their Force, by raging Sickness lost.
Thinking we might with Ease, the Foe defeat,
VVe from the Terms our selves propos'd, retreat.
[Page 263]I wish that Rupture May not Heav'n provoke,
To bring our Necks beneath the
British Yoke.
With all our Force the
Britons we assail,
But
Arthur's unresisted Arms prevail.
How great a Loss the
Saxons undergo,
Our bleeding Wounds and endless Funerals show.
What Hero can be found to guard our State,
Against Prince
Arthur's Arms, and prosp'rous Fate.
True,
Tollo's Deeds give him a warlike Name,
But much inferiour to the
Briton's Fame.
If we confiding in th'
Albanian's Sword,
Fresh Triumphs to the
Briton should afford:
Who after, shall controuling Bounds oppose,
To the victorious Progress of our Foes?
Who then against the Torrent can contend,
And from th' o'erflowing Flood, our Towns defend.
We shall in vain our former Conquests boast,
The
Saxon sinks, and all
Britannia's lost.
All things well weigh'd, Prince
Arthur looks to me
As one supported by divine Decree,
To Empire rais'd, by unchang'd Destiny.
If so in vain all our Attempts are made,
In vain we build our Hopes on
Tollo's Aid.
We shall oppose inevitable Fate,
And in our Ruin learn our Fault, too late.
I would Prince
Arthur's Temper sound, and strive
Once more, the former Treaty to revive.
This way we may controul the Conquerors' Arms,
And
Arthur bind by
Ethelina's Charms.
This way perhaps you'll stem the rapid Tyde,
And gain a Conquest to your Arms deny'd.
Pascentius ceas'd,
Crida with Choler burn'd,
And with an Air disturb'd these Words return'd:
[Page 264]We all well know
Pascentius Tongue, was made
Smooth, soft, and fluent fitted to perswade.
For courtly Arts, and fine Intreagues of State,
No
Saxon Genius can
Pascentius mate.
All to his Eloquence at home must yield,
As he to all, for Courage in the Field.
Men of the Cabinet take no Delight,
In bloody War, they are too wise to fight.
The
Briton's Strength, and
Arthur's Arms I find,
Strike fiercely on a Prudent timerous Mind.
A brave Heroick Spirit can't despair,
That minds the Turns and doubtful Chance of War.
Joyn'd by the
Pict and
Albanian Horse,
We'er much superiour to the
British Force.
Tollo and
Mordred, both for Arms are fam'd,
Whose Deeds with greater Wonder are proclaim'd?
We too have Heros left that dare engage
The
Briton's Arm, and can sustain his Rage.
My self will meet him in the Field, and stand
Unmov'd against the Fury of his Hand.
Shall we at last a conquer'd Nation fear,
And long inur'd to Victory despair.
Let not our vile Submission stain our Name,
And lessen thro' the World the
Saxon Fame.
No, let the King with
Tollo's Prayer comply,
Our Forces joyn'd must make the
Britons fly.
He ceas'd, the Councel murmur'd their Applause,
And pleas'd with this Advice King
Octa rose.
He straight dispatch'd th'
Albanian Orators,
By whom the valiant
Tollo he assures,
That he the
Britons by his Aid subdu'd,
Shall
Ethelina wed for whom he sued.
Their Troops should joyn, before the Truce expir'd.
His Oratours return'd, to
Tollo bring,
The pleasing Answer of the
Saxon King.
Tollo transported with excessive Joy,
Believes no Rival could his Hopes destroy.
As if the Battel were already won,
He thinks the Beauteous Princess is his own.
Glitt'ring in Arms, like a refulgent Star,
He leads his
Scotish Nation to the War.
A Nation fierce and haughty by Success,
Which
Albion's Northern Soil did then posess.
For a rude, cruel People, bred to Spoil,
To Blood, and Rapine, from th'
Hibernian Isle,
Did in this Age, infest th'
Albanian Coast,
And landed there at last their barb'rous Host.
Scots they were call'd, from their wild Island's Name,
For
Scotia, and
Hibernia were the same.
Here their new Seats the prosperous Pyrates, fix,
And their course Blood, with the old
Britons mix.
These their
Albanian Seats, new
Scotia stile,
Leaving
Hibernia, to their native Isle.
The
Calidonian Britons dispossest
And by a hard tirannick Yoke opprest;
Did these
Hibernian, Scotish Lords obey,
And felt the Curses of a forraign Sway.
This Nation then obey'd King
Tollo's Laws,
And now in Arms asserts the
Saxon Cause.
The mighty
Donald, of the
Northern Isles,
Of Visage fierce, and dreadful with the Spoils
Of grisly Bears, and of the foaming Boar,
Which hideous Pride he o'er his Shoulders wore,
[Page 266]Marches his vig'rous Troops into the Field,
Whose thundring Swords, themselves could only weild.
By their rough Captains led, they left the land,
Where once the old
Meatians did command.
And where the Walls from Sea to Sea extend,
By
Romans built, their Province to defend.
Stupendous Bulwarks whose unnumber'd Towers,
Repel'd th' Incursions of the
Northern Powers.
But when proud
Rome was weak and feeble grown,
Th' insulting Foe broke the high Fences down.
Now Ruins show where the chief Fabrick stood,
Between wide
Tinna's and
Itunna's Flood.
The Youth from all the Towns that did obey
In ancient times, the mild
Normantian Sway.
Such as possest th'
Elgovian Seats, and those
Who till'd the Land where silver
Devia flows.
Who on the wild and bleaky Shore reside,
Insulted by the rough
Hibernian Tide.
To aid the
Saxon from their Country came,
By
Dongal led, a Lord of Martial Fame.
Those where
Verdera rears her lofty Towers,
And
Glotta's Tide into the Ocean pours.
And where th'
Orestian Princes heretofore,
And
Attacottian Lords the Scepter bore.
Those where the
Otadenian Cities stood,
Between
Alanus, and fair
Vedra's Flood.
They march from
Castralata and the Shore,
Where wide
Boderia's noisy Billows roar.
Then those from
Vindolana and the Land
Where
Aelians Bridge and high
Cilurnum stand.
Mackbeth a great Commander of the North,
And rocky Highlands, draws his Nation forth.
[Page 267]Loose Mantles o'er their brawny Shoulders flung,
With careless Pride beneath their midleg hung.
Cerulean Bonnets on their Heads they wore,
And for their Arms, broad Swords and Targets bore.
The Youth pour'd out from fair
Victoria's Gates,
From
Orrea and the old
Gadenian Seats.
And from the spacious
Caledonian Wood,
And where
Cebinus rolls his rapid Flood.
These Troops were by the fierce
Congellar led,
Of
Malcol's Royal Stock the famous Head.
Who first from wild
Ierne wasted o'er,
His barb'rous Engines to th'
Albanian Shore.
Those from the
Vicomagians Cities came,
From high
Banatia, and from ancient
Tame.
And they who dwelt on either verdant Bank
Of
Longo's Stream, and those that
Itys drank.
With those that stretcht along the western Coast,
To whom the old
Creonian Towns were lost,
Where high
Epidium midst th'
Hibernian Waves,
Protrudes his Head, and all their Monsters braves.
Those from the Towns along the flowry Side
Of Northern
Tinna, and fair
Tava's Tide.
Where once the happy
Venicontes dwelt,
Before the forraign Conquerours Yoke was felt.
There was a northern Nation fierce and bold
On whose dy'd Bodies, fearful to behold,
Wild Beasts inscrib'd, and ravenous Birds were born,
Which their vast Limbs did dreadfully adorn.
So fierce they seem'd, as ready to devour,
The naked Limbs, that the wild Monsters bore.
Their Hieroglyphick Armies, stain'd and smear'd
With various Colours, and strange Forms appear'd
[Page 268]In Pageant Armour, and in painted State,
Like Troops of Heralds, who on Triumphs wait.
This Nation
Picts were call'd, who wafted o'er
From
Scandinavia, and the bleaky Shore
Of Southern
Scythia, did these Seas infest,
And with their Fleets, the
British Coast molest.
Their Pyracy's by Sea, and Thefts by Land,
Th' exhausted
Britons did in vain withstand.
No more of
Rome's declining Power afraid,
They did the weak, defenceless Isle invade.
Th' affrighted
Briton from the Shore retreats,
And leaves the Conquerour his abandon'd Seats.
Their King at Pleasure, this fierce Nation made,
And
Mordred now th' imperial Scepter sway'd.
He to King
Tollo by his Queen ally'd,
And now by closer Bonds of Interest ty'd.
Commands his Men to take their Shield and Launce,
And with the
Scotish Army to advance.
They march'd, who then possest the Hilly Land,
Which th' ancient
Carnonatian did command.
From
Ricine, and the frozen
Hebudes,
Lav'd by the loud
Deucaledonian Seas.
From all the Towns whence their victorious Sword,
Forc'd the
Carenian Prince, the rightful Lord.
Where the wild
Hiperborean Ocean raves,
And on the Rocks breaks his tempestuous Waves.
They came who then the
Mertian Cities fill'd,
And held the Lands that once the
Logian till'd.
They left the Soil where swift
Tuesis flows,
Where
Grampius stands in everlasting Snows,
Which like the fam'd
Riphean Hills appears,
And with his Head divides the neighb'ring Spheres.
[Page 269]From all the Land where
Loxa's Current flows,
Which
Vara's, and
Tuesis streams inclose.
Where once the bold
Decantians did reside,
And from their Hills the Power of
Rome defy'd.
These with the
Saxon Troops their Arms unite
Who so well reinforc'd prepare for Fight,
VVhile wounded in his Tent King
Octa staid,
King
Tollo, as their Leader, all obey'd.
AUrora's Beams now on the Mountains smil'd,
And adverse Clouds with Purple Edgings gild,
Boyling with Martial Rage King
Tollo stands,
And his high Chariot, and his Steeds demands.
Steeds, whiter than the purest
Alpine Snows,
And fleeter than the Gales that
Boreas blows.
He triumph'd when his noble Breed appear'd,
Their Harness thick with Gold and Silver smear'd.
When he their thundring Neighings heard, and saw
Their wanton Hoofs the trembling Valley paw.
The Grooms and Charioteers about him stand,
Reining the snorting Coursers in their Hand.
Stroking their Backs, they their hot Spirits sooth'd,
And their high Manes with Combs, and Spunges smooth'd.
Tollo mean time, puts on his mighty Arms,
And all the Field resounds with loud Alarms.
Each Army does for Bloody Toil prepare,
And draw their Troops out, to renew the War.
The thund'ring Coursers shake the trampled Ground,
And warlike Clamours from the Hills rebound.
Across the Plain the rapid Chariots fly,
And with thick Clouds of Dust annoy the Sky.
An Iron Harvest on the Field appears,
Of Launces, burnish'd Shields, and bristling Spears.
[Page 272]Throng'd Heads in long embattl'd Ranks dispos'd,
The lowring Front of horrid War disclos'd.
First furious
Tollo springs out from the Lines,
And on the Plain in radiant Armour shines.
His polish'd Helm opprest the dazled Sight,
And shone on high, like a huge Globe of Light.
The Golden Shield his mighty Arm did bear,
Hung, like a blazing Meteor, in the Air.
His Coat of Mail was on his Shoulders cast,
And Golden Pieces his vast Thighs encas'd.
The Pieces round his Legs, Gold Buttons ty'd,
And his broad sword hung dreadful by his side.
Which when drawn out, like a destructive Flame
Of Light'ning, from the ample Scabbard came.
In such illustrious Arms King
Tollo shone,
And thought no Strength superiour to his own.
Then shaking in his Hand his massy Spear,
He cry'd aloud, that all his Threats might hear.
This Spear ne'er yet deceiv'd its Master's Hand,
Nor could the bravest Knight its Force withstand.
Witness
Albodian, and great
Locrine slain
In single Combates, on th'
Albanian Plain.
Witness ye
Caledonian Princes, you,
Whom with vast spoil on
Tava's Banks I slew.
Now, by this faithful spear shall
Arthur dy,
If his just Fears perswade him not to fly.
T'
Augusta's Gates I'll bring his sever'd Head,
And in his spoils, fair
Ethelina wed.
Thus
Tollo boasts, thus did his Fury rise,
And streaks of Fire flash'd from his raging Eyes.
So when a tawny Lyon, from the side
Of some high
Lybian Mountain, has descry'd.
To rouse his Courage he begins to roar,
He shakes his hideous Sides, his Bristles rise
And fiercely round he rowls his fiery Eyes.
Again he roars, his Paws the Mountains tear,
A fearful Preface to th' ensuing War.
High in his Chariot
Tollo then advanc'd,
And from his Arms amazing Lustre glanc'd.
A Martial Ardour sparkled in his Eyes,
And hot with Choler he the Foe defies.
So when the Spring's warm Breath, and chearing Ray
Calls from his Cave th' awaken'd
Snake, that lay
Folded to Rest, while Winter Snows conceal'd
The Mountains Heads, and Frosts the Lakes congeal'd▪
The sloughy Spoils from his sleek Back depos'd,
And the gay Pride of his new Skin disclos'd,
He views himself with Youthful Beauties crown'd,
Elated casts his haughty Eyes around,
And rolls his speckled spires along the Ground.
Fresh Colours dy his Sides, and thro' his Veins
Turgid with Life, reviving Vigour reigns.
The sprightly Beast unfolds upon the Plain
The glossy Honours of his Summer Train.
His Crest erected high, and forky Tongue
Shot out, he hisses, bounds, and leaps along.
Such Life and Vigour valiant
Tollo shows,
Marching with eager Haste to meet his Foes.
And now the
British Host advanc'd in sight,
With chearful Looks, and eager of the Fight.
Prince
Arthur in refulgent Arms appear'd,
High in the midst, the
Saxons saw, and fear'd.
As when a Merchant richly laden spies,
A lowring storm far in th' Horizon rise,
[Page 274]A deadly Fear o'er all his Vitals reigns,
And his chill Blood hangs curdled in his Veins.
He furls his sails, and fits his ship to bear
The dreadful Hurricane ascending thro' the Air.
Now both th' embattled Hosts advancing near
King
Tollo shakes his long, outrageous Spear.
And crying out, and threatning from afar,
In his swift Chariot flew amidst the War.
His rapid Wheels cut thro' the thickest Files
With fearful Ruine, and prodigious Spoils.
Hapless
Vodinar first his Arm did feel,
And in his Breast receiv'd the pointed steel.
Next
Byron on the Sand expiring lies,
Orpes flies to his Aid, and with him dies.
Kentwin, Morosten, Caradoc he slew,
And with his Javelin pierc'd stout
Mervin thro'.
Then you brave Youths,
Risan, and
Tudor fell
Who did in strength, and martial skill excel.
His fatal spear transfixt bold
Arnon's sides,
And from his Neck, his Sword the Head divides.
As
Udas fled, the hissing Dart he sent
Enter'd his Back, and thro' his Navel went,
He fell, and on the Dust, sad to behold,
His Bowels issuing from his Belly roll'd.
Runo's right Knee his Javelin did invade,
And in the Bone the glitt'ring Weapon staid.
Strong
Runo fell, and as he wildly star'd,
And many moving Words in hast prepar'd
To beg his Life, th' insulting Conquerour flew,
And with his Spear pierc'd his pale Body thro'.
Groaning he lay, and fetcht long double Sighs
While in thick Mists Death swims upon his Eyes.
[Page 275]Next
Leoline, King
Cadwall's Son he kill'd,
A beauteous Youth, and not in War unskill'd.
His Head the Fauchion to the Shoulders cleft,
And on the Dust his groveling Body left.
Ouenar felt within a sudden Dread,
And turning round his Chariot, would have fled.
When his long Spear the fierce
Albanian threw,
Which crasht the Bones, and thro' the Temples flew.
Headlong
Ouenar fell, and on the Ground
Lay welt'ring in his Blood, pour'd from his Wound.
His fatal Weapons vast Destruction made,
And where he pass'd, the slain in Heaps were laid.
So when a Flood from th'
Hyperborean Hills,
Rolls thund'ring down, and all the Valley fills,
Where the high Snows dissolv'd by Summer Beams,
In one vast Deluge joyn their various Streams:
The roaring Tide with its impetuous Course,
O'erflows the Banks, and with resistless Force
Sweeps Houses, Harvest, Herds, and Flocks away,
Nor can the loftiest Mounds its Progress stay.
With equal Rage, with such impetuous Hast,
Great
Tollo thro' the thick Battalions past.
The rapid Wheels of his swift Chariot burn,
And in their Course the throng'd Brigades o'erturn.
O'er scatter'd Arms, bright Helms, broad Shields of Brass,
And broken Spears, his raging Axles pass.
O'er Heaps of Dead the furious Warrior flies,
And fills with Dust, and ratling Noise, the Skies.
The squallid Field, a Crimson Torrent choaks,
And mingled Dust, and Blood oppress his Chariot's spoakes.
The trembling Ground th' outrageous Coursers tear,
And snoring, brow their Foam into the Air.
[Page 276]Their fervid Nostrils breath out Clouds of Smoke,
And Flames of Fire from their hot Eyeballs broke.
With furious Hoofs o'er slaughter'd Heaps they fly,
And dash up Bloody Rain amidst the Sky.
Reeking in sweat, and smear'd with Dust and Gore
They spurn the Sand, and thro' the Battel roar.
Then valiant
Malgo with a fresh Brigade,
Advanc'd the mighty Warriour to invade.
While from another Part his Warlike Band,
Bothan led up, and made a noble Stand.
Now Showers of Darts, and feather'd Arrows fly
At
Tollo's Breast, that darken'd all the Sky.
When valiant
Marodan approaching near,
With all his Strength, casts his impetuous Spear.
It pass'd the Buckler's Plates, and folded Hide,
And thro' his Armour slightly raz'd his Side.
Tollo incens'd, collecting all his Might,
Broke thro' their Ranks, and put the Foe to Flight.
Now dire Destruction reigns amidsts their Files,
And all the Field was spread with warlike Spoils.
So when
Battavian Harpooniers assail,
With their sharp Launces, some prodigious
Whale,
That like a floating Mountain, lies at Ease,
Vastly extended on the frozen Seas.
When the
Leviathan begins to feel,
Within his wounded side, the bearded steel;
And looking round, sees all the ambient Flood,
Deeply distain'd with its old Monarch's Blood.
Straight all enrag'd, he throws himself about,
And thro' the Air does Crimson Rivers spout.
Swift, as a storm, he does the Foe assail,
VVith his expanded Fins, and hideous Tail.
[Page 277]Some Barks are crush'd, as with a falling Rock,
And some o'erturn'd, sink with the dreadful Shock.
The rest ply all their Oars, and frighted row,
Thro' Fields of Ice, to shun th' unequal Foe.
Canvallo then brought up a stronger Force,
Whom
Galbut joyn'd to stop th'
Albanian's Course.
The fainting
Britons these fresh Troops protect,
And with their Arms great
Tollo's Triumphs checkt.
And now their thick Brigades were close engag'd,
And thro' the bloody Field Destruction rag'd.
Now Man to Man stood close, and Spear to Spear,
Helms mixt with Helms, and Shields with Shields appear.
Arrows aloft in feather'd Tempests fly,
Darts hiss at Darts, encountring in the Sky.
A dreadful Noise distracting all the Air,
Came from the hoarce
Cerberean Throat of War.
While Arms on Arms, Bucklers on Bucklers ring,
Swords clash with Swords, and flying Javelins sing.
Some threaten loud, while some for Quarter cry,
And some insult, while some in Torment dy.
As when a Torrent down some Mountain's Side,
To the low Valleys rolls its rapid Tide,
Where mighty Stones and rocky Fragments, high
Within the rude, unfashion'd Channels ly.
O'er abrupt Tracks its Course the Deluge bends,
And roaring down with mighty Falls, descends.
Prodigious Noise th' Aerial Region fills,
The Shepherds hear, and tremble on their Hills.
Or as
When high
Vesuvius stow'd with wealthy Stores,
Preluding to some dire Irruption, roars,
While horrible Convulsions shake its Womb,
And lab'ring Sides, which hidden War entomb.
[Page 278]Th' imprison'd Thunder bellows under Ground,
And the loud Noise fill all the Heav'ns around.
August
Parthenope's gilt Turrets shake,
And fair
Campania's wealthy Farmers quake.
Such was the loud distracting Noise of War,
Such horrid Clamours tore th' aflicted Air,
While the fierce Foes against each other rag'd,
And for
Britannia's Empire were engag'd.
The neighing Steeds, and wounded Warriours cries,
And rising Clouds of Dust confound the Skies.
Mordred mean time the mighty
Pictan King,
Does to the Charge, his threatning Squadrons bring.
Sticking his Golden Rowels in the Sides
Of his huge Steed, amidst the Ranks he rides.
The
British Horse unshaken as a Rock,
Bravely sustain'd th' Invaders thundring Shock.
King
Meridoc who did the Horse command
Confirm'd his Men, to make so brave a stand.
Yet many valiant
Britons Mordred slew,
First with his Spear he pierc'd brave
Iasper thro'.
The valiant
Giffith by unhappy Chance,
Came in his Way, and felt his fatal Launce.
Beneath his Ear the Weapon pierc'd his Head,
He fell, and in a Moment stretcht out dead.
His furious Arm noble
Lodanar felt
On whose high Crest so fierce a stroke he dealt,
The
Briton stun'd with the prodigious Blow,
Drops the loos'd Reins, and lets his Weapons go.
The frighted Courser thro the Battle Flies,
Lodanor in the Dust dismounted lies.
The Horses Hoofs in pieces crush his Head,
And deep into the Mire his Bowels tread.
And grip'd him with his furious Hand, and drew
The
Briton from his Seat, his fiery Steed
Scours o'er the Field, from his lost Rider freed.
Wrigling and spurning in his Arms the Prey
Midst loud Applauses
Mordred bears away.
So when an Eagle from some Mountain's Top,
To truss a timerous Leveret makes a stoop,
And in his crooked Pounces takes him up.
Struggling he mounts, and squeaks amidst the Skies,
And faster than he ran before, he flies.
To fight the
Pict straight
Guinan did advance
But in his Shield broke his projected Launce.
Then at the
Briton Mordred's Javelin flew
It mist the Rider, but the Courser slew.
Extended on the Ground the groaning Beast,
Th' unhappy Rider with his Weight opprest.
Mordred dismounts, and with his glitt'ring Dart
Loudly insulting, stabs him to the Heart.
Guinan a Friend to
Meridoc was dear
Who at his Death enrag'd caught up his Spear,
And shaking it from far, with mighty Rage,
Spurs thro' their Ranks King
Mordred to engage.
The
Pictan Monarch who elated stood,
Like some tall Oak, that overlooks the Wood,
Or some high Tower, which with its lofty Head
Surveys the Towns beneath, around it spread,
Lifts his Gigantick Spear, and cry'd aloud,
To
Meridoc advancing thro' the Crowd,
Briton come on, and but a Moment stand,
A glorious Fate expect from
Mordred's Hand.
Let not thy Fears perswade thee hence to flie,
Heav'ns give thee Courage to come up, and die.
Which in the Shield's third Ply its Fury spent.
Then
Mordred threw, aloft the Weapon hist,
Ludar it slew, but
Meridoc it mist.
Brave
Ludar was a Lord of
Neustrian Blood,
Who long in vain the fair
Marinda woo'd.
To bless him with her Smiles, and heal his Wound,
But from the scornful Maid no Pity found:
Lost in Despair, he left his native Soil,
His Torments to beguile with Martial Toil.
Now wounded by an erring Spear, he lies
Cry'd out
Marinda, cruel Fate! and dies.
Then did the
Briton's second Weapon fly
Which thro' his Armour, pierc'd King
Mordred's Thigh.
Which from the Flesh he strove to draw in vain,
Then flew about wreckt with Tormenting Pain.
Wildly he star'd, and turn'd his Courser's Head,
Aloud he roar'd, and from the Combat fled.
So when a Sword-Fish, urg'd with generous Rage,
Does a vast Whale, in Northern Seas engage.
The Finny Warriours with a furious Course
To Battel rush, and meet with wondrous Force.
A noble Fight ensues, and dreadful Strokes
Afflict the Main, and shake the neighb'ring Rocks.
As they advance, they drive high Seas before,
The Monsters bellow, and the Billows roar.
The boiling Sea, with greater Fury raves,
Then when incumbent Storms press on its Waves.
The Surges raging with intestine War,
With high, curl'd Heads, look terrible from far.
The Foam of breaking Waves, in pointed Sleet
Like driven Snow does on the Ocean beat.
And clouds of Liquid dust obscure the Sky.
At last the Whale his shining Belly goar'd,
By his fierce Enemy's invading Sword;
Wild with his Rage and Pain whole Seas does spout,
And like a floating Island, rolls about.
The wounded Monster does the Seas out roar,
And tumbles thro' the Billows to the Shore,
Leaving behind broad Tracks of Purple Gore.
Thus strove the
Pictan and the
British Horse,
While pious
Arthur with resistless Force;
In radiant Arms, bright as th' autumnal Star,
Flies thro' the Foe, himself a fearful War.
With his victorious Sword, which wav'd on high,
Made flaming Bows, and Arches in the Sky.
The Body of their Battel he invades,
And thro' a Sea of Blood victorious wades.
Where'er the Conq'rour did his progress bend,
Ruin and wide Destruction did attend.
Prodigious Numbers by his Weapons fall,
And on their Gods in vain the
Saxons call.
He made his way, like an impetuous Flood,
Or furious Burning, raging thro' the Wood
Where'er he pass'd the Dead lay thick behind,
As sapless Leaves, spread by a boistrous Wind.
Uffina first a valiant Lord did feel
In his left Side, the
Briton's piercing steel.
Next
Godred fell from valiant
Ingulf sprung,
And as he fell, his Arms upon him rung.
Next fell the famous
Ethelbert betwixt,
The Head and Shoulders with a Dart transfixt.
[Page 282]Nothing his Courage, or illustrious Blood,
That to his Veins from mighty
Odin's stow'd;
Nothing his well prov'd Armour when assail'd
By
Arthur's hand, the noble Youth avail'd.
Struggling he lay, and wallow'd on the Ground
In the warm Streams that rush'd out from his Wound.
A gloomy Night o'erwhelms his dying Eyes,
And his disdainful Soul, from his pale Bosom flies.
Then
Imerick he slew a valiant Chief,
And
Lodocan that rush'd to his Relief:
One with his Fauchion, th' other with his Spear,
That cleft the Head, this pierc'd from Ear to Ear.
Next from his Arm a singing Javelin sent,
Thro' the left Groin of mighty
Crida went.
The wounded Chief retires in tort'ring Pain,
And Tracks of Blood his halting Leg distain.
Then
Sigebert a noble Youth he slew,
The fatal Weapon pierc'd his Temples thro'.
His furious Dart did next at
Ebald fly,
Which thro' his Shield pierc'd deep into his Thigh:
Inflam'd with Rage, and roaring out with Pain,
He strove to pull the Weapon out in vain.
His Javelin next transfixt
Congellars's Reins,
And out his Life gush'd from his open'd Veins.
Then
Edbert fell
Thro' the Bright Helmet which his Head encas'd,
Thro' Bones, and Brains the furious Javelin pass'd;
And his left Eye from out its Circle struck,
On the sharp Point, a ghastly Prospect stuck.
Then
Ethelrick a stout west Saxon Lord,
And
Ida fell, by his victorious Sword.
The first his Head down to his Shoulders cleft,
Fell to the Ground, of Breath and sense bereft.
[Page 283]The heavy Blade falling with oblique Sway,
Half thro' the other's Neck, did make its way.
The Head half sever'd on his Shoulders hung,
And from the Wound a bloody Torrent sprung.
Rolling in Gore upon the Field he lay,
Wildly he star'd, and groan'd his life away,
As when a mighty Tempest from the East,
The Sea assail'd, and on the Billows prest
By Heav'n's Command, that
Iacob's Fav'rite Race,
Might
Pharaoh's Arms escape, and safely pass.
Th' astonish'd Ocean did its Force obey,
Open'd his watry Files, and clear'd the pathless way.
The Waves retreated, and erected stood,
As fear and wonder had benum'd the Flood.
Then Front to Front they kept their Line unmov'd,
And those that crowd behind, they backwards shov'd.
Like a long Ridge of Crystal Hills they rose,
And the low Wonders of the deep disclose.
So valiant
Arthur prest upon the Foe,
And so their Troops retir'd, and let the Conqueror thro.
Now he advanc'd to
Tollo's foremost Band,
Where mighty
Fingal and
Dolavian stand;
Both which he slew, next valiant
Duncan falls,
While he in vain for Help on
Tollo calls.
And now on every side the
Saxon Host
Began to fly, and yield the Battel lost.
Only King
Tollo with enormous Rage
Breaks thro' the Troops, Prince
Arthur to engage.
Mean time the Prince of Hell stood full of Care,
And fear'd th' Event of this unequal War.
To save the
Saxon Squadrons which remain,
Whereof such Numbers lay already slain,
Whose Arms the
British Hero's could not mate.
The conquering
Britons fierce pursuit to stay,
And once more
Arthur's Triumphs to Delay,
By Heav'n's Permission, causes to arise
A dreadful Tempest in the troubled Skies.
The blustring Powers, and Demons of the Air,
Straight at his Summons to their Prince repair.
To whom thus
Lucifer:
Aerial Powers, who my Commands obey,
And in these Regions own my soveraign Sway;
Know, I intend to end this bloody Strife,
To part the Hosts, and guard King
Tollo's Life.
Go hasten then, each to his known Employ,
And let your loudest Storms the Heav'ns annoy.
Swift, as your own projected Lightnings fly,
And in a Moment trouble all the Sky.
The dusky Fiends obedient fly away,
Some fetch up misty Stores to choak the Day.
Some Pitchy Clouds of
Stygian Fleeces made,
And in their Bowels Trains of Brimstone laid,
Some ram in Seeds of unripe Thunder some,
With mighty Hailstones charge their hollow Womb.
Some fetch strong Winds, which on their Wings may bear
The heavy Tempest lab'ring thro' the Air.
O'erspreading mists th' extinguish'd sunbeams drown
Dark Clouds o'er all the Black Horrizon frown,
And hang their deep Hydropick Bellies down.
Hoarse Thunder rolls, and Murm'ring try's its Voice,
Preluding to the Tempest's dreadful Noise.
Infernal Torches now the Fiends apply,
And light the fiery Seeds that hidden lie.
[Page 285]The Heav'n's wide Frame outrageous Thunder shocks,
Loud, as the mighty Crack of falling Rocks.
The Cloudy Machines burst amidst the Skies,
And from their yawning Wounds exploded Lightning flies.
Confusion fills the Air, Fire, Rain, and Hail
Now mingle Tempests, now by Turns prevail.
No more the
Britons, and the
Saxons strove,
For that below, yields to the War above.
The conquering
Britons, to the Camp return,
Their Loss in theirs, the vanquish'd
Saxons mourn.
So when a summer Cloud the Sky o'erspreads,
The Bees that wander o'er the flowry Meads,
Or to the Tops of lofty Mountains climb,
To fetch the yellow spoils of od'rous Thyme,
Forsake their Toil, and lab'ring thro' the Air,
To their known Hives, with hasty Flight repair.
All to their Cells returning from abroad,
Depose their luscious Dew, and strutting Thighs unload.
Perplext, and sad, the
Saxon Troops appear,
And horribly they curst Prince
Arthur's spear.
They saw no
Saxon could his Arm withstand,
And doubt Deliverance from King
Tollo's Hand.
When half of this uneasie Night was spent,
To all the great Commanders
Octa sent,
To bring them quickly to his royal Tent.
And first the Summons they to
Tollo bear,
Who to equip himself did straight prepare.
A Wolf grin'd horribly upon his Head,
And o'er his brawny Back a Leopard's Hide was spread.
He girds his mighty Fauchion to his side,
Which hung across his Thigh, with fearful Pride.
Frowning, and on the great Affair Intent,
He straight to
Octa's high Pavilion went.
Next
Mordred halting with his Wound, and lame,
And by his massy spear supported, came.
A Beaver's Skin upon his Head he wore,
And a fierce
Tyger's his wide shoulders bore.
A silver Belt, illustrious to behold,
Held his broad sword, adorn'd with studs of Gold.
Then
Ella rose newly laid down to Rest,
And button'd on his rich embroider'd Vest.
O'er which a pompous scarlet Cloak he threw,
Fasten'd with Golden Clasps, and lin'd with costly Blue.
Then putting on his mighty sword, in Hast
Tho lame, he to the Counsel sternly past.
Then valiant
Amades, and
Chuline went
With wife
Pascentius to their Monarch's Tent
Follow'd by
Osred, Sebert, and the rest
Of their chief Lords, who great Concern exprest:
And now th' august Assembly fill'd apace,
Where all the Leaders took their proper Place.
Then their Attention
Octa did demand,
And leaning on his Scepter with his Hand,
He thus began, Princes, you see the Field
To the victorious
Britons still we yield.
By Sea, and Land we've felt their fatal Arms,
And all our Realm trembles at their Alarms.
Our Heaps of Dead the Field with Horrour crown,
And Seas of
Saxon Blood the Valley drown.
All
Albion's Isle resounds with dying Groans,
White with her Rocks, but whiter with our Bones.
Prince
Arthur's Sword the Field with Ruin spreads,
Like Storms, which from the Trees dishonour'd Heads
[Page 287]Their shady Leaves, and spreading Branches tear,
Cover the Ground, and leave the Forrest bare.
On us th' offended Gods severely frown,
But on the
British Arms look smiling down.
VVhile we oppose the rapid Tide of Fate,
VVe think to stop what we precipitate,
And learn our Errour, at too dear a Rate.
He said, the
Saxon Chiefs, who found their Host
Feeble, and sunk by frequent Battels lost:
Thinking their Arms unable to oppose,
The rapid Course of their victorious Foes:
Upon
Pascentius straightway cast their Eyes,
As one above the rest accounted wise,
And who the King to Peace did still advise.
Pascentius then began.
Octa, the Counsel which at first I gave
From
Arthur's Arms our threaten'd State to save;
VVhat since has happen'd, shows was just and right:
For who can meet the
British Prince in Fight?
Our sinking State, and hard Affairs demand
A Remedy of Force, and near at Hand.
He that in such a Storm, would safely steer,
Must have a Head that's steady, cool, and clear.
'The lab'ring ship on all sides feels dire shocks,
Charybdis shun'd, she's dash'd on
Scylla's Rocks.
'Tis hard to give a Monarch Counsel where
On either Hand such frightful shelves appear.
Statesmen, in such a Case as this debate
How best to save themselves, and not the state.
But if my Judgment still I must declare,
I would at any Price compose the War.
And till a more effectual can be found,
This as a safe Expedient I propound.
[Page 288]Sore with their Wounds, and sunk with ill success,
The
Saxons strong Desires for Peace express.
This to obtain, we must to
Arthur sue,
And the first Treaty, which we broke, renew.
The Princess
Ethelina's Heav'nly Charms,
Are only stronger, than the
Briton's Arms.
She must be offer'd, as the Prince's Bride,
This once prevail'd, and must again be try'd.
But then you break the Promise, that you made
To
Tollo, who'll complain he is betray'd.
Since hence to Peace, our chief Obstructions spring,
I move that
Arthur, and th'
Albanian King,
May by their single Arms the strife decide,
And let the Princess be the Conquerour's Bride.
If o'er the
Britons we th' Advantage gain,
And
Arthur by th'
Albanian King is slain.
The
Britons shall repass
Sabrina's Tide,
And in their Rocks, and Hilly Lands abide.
But all the Cities, Castles, and the Land,
That lie on this side,
Octa shall command.
But if King
Tollo slain by
Arthur's Sword,
New Triumphs to the
Briton shall afford;
We'll meet no more their Armies in the Field,
But all our Towns, and conquer'd Places yield.
Those who shall ask it, shall be wasted o'er,
To our old seats along the
German shore:
The
Cantian Kingdom still we will retain,
And in its Limits circumscrib'd remain.
This, as the best Expedient, I propose,
He said, the
Saxons murmur'd their Applause.
Then
Tollo answer'd with a haughty Air,
Pleas'd with my Fate, I undertake the War.
[Page 289]My Sword and
Arthur's shall the Strife decide,
And let the Princess be the Victor's Bride.
This conquering Arm the
Saxon Realm shall guard,
Repell the Foe, and win the bright Reward,
For if the Foe does not my Sword decline.
The War is ended, with his Fall or mine.
Th' Assembly rose, and back the Captains went,
Praising King
Tollo much, but fear'd th' Event.
At the first opening of the tender Day,
Six Oratours King
Octa sent away
To
Arthur's Camp, who introduc'd declare,
The Measures taken to compose the War.
The Challenge
Arthur heard with great Delight,
And readily accepts the single Fight.
Straight to the sacred Temples all repair,
Heav'n to solicite with united Prayer,
That
Arthur in the Combate might succeed,
And vanquish'd
Tollo, by his Weapon bleed.
With warmer Zeal and with more earnest Cries,
The
Britons never importun'd the Skies.
A deep Concern at Heart they all exprest,
And mighty Passions struggled in their Breast.
For if the Prince fell in the Combat, all
Well knew their unsupported State must fall.
Soon as the Sun had streak'd the Skies with Light,
Prince
Arthur rose; and Arm'd himself for fight.
Peices with silver Studs his Legs encas'd,
And Plates of Gold his warlike Thighs embrac'd.
And on his Head he lac'd his burnish'd Helm,
Whence flashing Brightness did the Sight o'erwhelm.
[Page 290]Like some Celestial Orb his blazing Shield,
Darted amazing Lustre thro' the Field.
And then he girded to his Martial Side,
His faithful Sword, so oft in Battel try'd.
Thus arm'd the Hero mounts his thundring Steed,
Nor
Thrace, nor
Greece can boast a nobler Breed.
With his strong Arm he grip'd his trembling Spear,
His very Friends, tho pleas'd, yet seem'd to fear.
And as he spur'd his Courser, and advanc'd,
Unsufferable Splendour from his Armour glanc'd.
As glorious
Michael, when the Foe alarms
The blissful Realms, clad in Celestial Arms,
Bright as the Sun, leads forth th' Angelick Host,
To chase th' Invaders from the Heav'nly Coast,
In such illustrious Arms the Prince was seen,
His warlike Grace was such, and such his Godlike Mien.
Mean time King
Octa from his Camp proceeds,
High in his Charriot drawn by milk white Steeds.
And by his Side
Tollo, appear'd in sight,
Compleatly arm'd, and coveting the Fight.
His Coat of Mail was o'er his Shoulders flung,
And by his side his dreadful Fauchion hung.
Like a high Beacon lighted in the Air,
His Buckler flam'd, denouncing horrid War.
In his right Hand he shakes his pondrous Launce,
And on his Steed did to the Lists advance.
The Marshals of the Field had markt our Ground
Fit for the Fight, and fixt high Pales around.
Which with arm'd Troops, on either side were lin'd,
Their Spears stuck in the Ground, their Shields reclin'd.
On either Side the Armies stood in sight,
Drawn up, as they two were design'd for Fight.
Attended with his Heralds on the Place,
Prince
Arthur first appear'd with Martial Grace.
When
Octa and his Priests advancing near,
Raising his Voice that those around might hear.
His Hand devoutly on his Breast, his Eyes
Fixt in a solemn Manner on the Skies;
To ratifie the Treaty, thus he swore,
Th 'Eternal Mind whom Christians do adore,
The God of Truth I here to witness call,
That if this Day by
Tollo's Arms I fall,
We will no more Hostilities repeat,
But o'er
Sabrina's Waters will retreat.
We will no more the
Saxon State molest,
But in our Hills and snowy Mountains rest.
But if we find this an auspicious Day,
And by Heaven's Aid, my Arms shall
Tollo slay;
Then if the vanquish'd
Saxons shall restore
The Towns and Lands, which we possest before,
They in the
Cantian Kingdom shall reside,
And unmolested in those Bounds abide.
Then did King
Octa by an Altar stand,
Rais'd with Green Turf, and on it laid his Hand.
And thus his Idols he invok'd.
Irmansul God of Arms, and mighty
Iove,
Tuisco, Odin, all ye Powers above,
And you green Gods, and blew-ey'd Goddesses,
Who rule the spacious Empire of the Seas.
And you tremendous Powers, who all resort,
At
Pluto's Summons, to th' Infernal Court:
Ye rural Gods, who rule the Hills and Woods,
Ye watry Powers, who dive beneath the Floods.
[Page 292]By gloomy
Styx I swear, bear witness all,
That if King
Tollo does in Combate fall,
The Treaty now agreed to, shall be kept,
The
Cantian Kingdom only we except,
All other Lands, our once victorious Sword,
Won from the
British Kings, shall be restor'd.
He who shall Conquerour in the Field remain,
Shall for his Bride fair
Ethelina gain.
He said, and to confirm the Oath he swore,
He drew his Sword, that by his Side he wore:
And with its Point did his full Veins divide,
And let out from his Arm, the Crimson Tide.
A golden Bowl receiv'd the vital Flood,
Which
Octa took, and drank the flowing Blood.
Arthur and
Tollo now themselves prepare,
By a brave Combate to decide the War.
The Martials, Heralds, and the Fecial Priests
The Ceremonies finish'd, clear the Lifts.
Then the loud Trumpet's Clangour did invite,
The mighty Warriours to begin the Fight.
Both in their Hands grasping their pointed Launce,
Spur their hot Steeds, and to the War advance.
And now the Combatants approach'd so near,
Their Voices rais'd, they might each other hear.
Then
Tollo cry'd aloud
Till now distress'd without a Friend or Home,
In forraign Lands, you did an Exile roam,
Here stop your Course, your Soul mean time shall go,
A wandring Exile to the Shades below.
I'll take off with this Sword your gasping Head,
And in your Spoils, fair
Ethelina wed.
[Page 293]Were you brave
Hector, or his braver Foe,
Or Godlike
Hercules, I'd stand your Blow.
Did you advance, with Thunder in your Hand,
Against your Bolts I would undaunted stand.
But such a mighty Foe I need not fear,
You bear not such a Shield, nor such a Spear.
Oh! that bright
Ethelina now stood by,
To see her Lover, and my Rival dy.
Thus boastful
Tollo did his Choler vent,
And thus in Air his empty Threats were spent.
The pious Prince enrag'd, without Reply,
Shakes his long Spear, and hastes to Victory.
As when a roaming Lyon from a far,
Sees a strong Bull stand threat'ning furious War,
Who flourishes his Horns, looks sowrly round,
And hoarcely bellowing, traverses the Ground.
For want of Foes, he does the Wood provoke,
Runs his curl'd Head against the next tall Oak,
Wishing a nobler Object of his Stroke.
The Lyon fir'd, regards him with Disdain,
And to insult him scowrs along the Plain.
So
Arthur boyling with Heroic Rage,
Springs with a full Carrier, King
Tollo to engage.
Collected in himself th'
Albanian stood,
Like some tall, shady Pine, it self a Wood,
Or a vast
Cyclops wading thro' the Flood.
Then
Tollo first,
Arthur advancing near,
With all his Force casts his long Ashen Spear.
Which
Arthur on his temper'd Buckler took,
While with the vast concern the
Britons shook.
Thro' the first Plate of Brass the Weapon went,
But in the next its dying Force was spent.
[Page 294]Then from his valiant Arm the
Briton threw,
His Javelin, singing thro' the Air it flew.
The yielding Buckler did its Force obey,
And thro' the Plates, and Hide it made its Way.
Thro' the thin Joynts of Steel the Spear did fly,
And wounded, as it past, his mighty Thigh.
The Blood sprung thro' his Armour, from the Wound,
And trickling down the Plate, distain'd the Ground.
Then did King
Tollo's second Weapon fly,
Which broke within the Buckler's second Ply.
The
British Prince another Weapon threw,
Which,
Tollo stooping, o'er his Shoulders flew.
And falling went so deep upon the Ground,
No Arm, of Force to draw it out, was found.
These Weapons spent, to end the noble Fight,
The furious Warriours from their Steeds alight.
And as they nimbly leapt unto the Ground,
The most undaunted Chiefs that stood around,
So fearful was the Chinck their Armour made,
Started, as Men surpriz'd, and look'd afraid.
Then furious Strokes on either Side they deal,
The ecchoing Air rings with the dreadful Peal.
Pale with the vast Concern both Armies look,
And for their Champion's Life with Terrour shook.
So when two vig'rous Stags, each of his Herd
The haughty Lord, thro' all the Forrest fear'd,
Resolv'd to try which must in Combate yield,
In all their Might advance across the Field;
They nod their lofty Heads, and from a far
Flourish their Horns, preluding to the War.
The Combatants their threatning Head incline,
And with their clashing Horns in Battel joyn.
[Page 295]They rush to combate with amazing Strokes,
And their high Antlets meet with dreadful Shocks.
The mighty Sound runs ratling o'er the Hills,
And Eccho with the Fight the Valley fills.
Retiring oft, the Warriours cease to push,
But then with fiercer Rage to Battel rush.
The trembling Herds at Distance gaze, and stay
To know the Conquerour, whom they must obey.
No less concern'd
Saxons, and
Britons stand
To see the Victor, who must both command.
Now
Tollo backwards shrinks, and panting stood
Faint with his Labour, and his Loss of Blood.
The
British Prince enrag'd to see the Fight
So far prolong'd, collecting all his Might,
With double Fury on th'
Albanian prest,
And his bright Sword high rais'd, upon his Crest
Descended with so horrible a Sway,
It stun'd the Foe, and took his Sense away.
He dropt his Arms, and giddy reel'd about,
The joyful
Britons raise a mighty Shout.
Arthur on fire, lets not th' Advantage go,
But stepping forward with a back hand Blow
Drawn with prodigious Strength, from side to side
Did his wide Throat, and spouting Veins divide.
A crimson River gushing from the Wound,
Ran down his burnish'd Armour to the Ground.
Reeling and tott'ring for a While he stood,
And from his Stomack vomits clotted Blood.
Then down he fell, the Field beneath, and all
The
Saxon Army tremble at his Fall:
Groveling in Death, and smear'd with Gore he lay,
And his dim Eyes scarcely admit the Day.
Away his Soul with Indignation fled.
Convuls'd and quivering for a while he fetcht
A dreadful Groan, and breathless out he stretcht.
As when a Whirlwind with outrageous Force
O'erturns a lofty Oak, that stops its Course,
Its Roots torn up, the Tree's caught from the Ground,
And with the furious Eddy carried round:
Then falling from the Sky, his stately Head,
And shady Limbs, the groaning Hill o'erspread.
So by Prince
Arthur's Arms, King
Tollo slain,
Fell down, and lay extended on the Plain.
FINIS