The Glorious and Living CINQVE-PORTS of our fortunate Island Thrice happy in the Persons of HIS SACRED MAIESTIE.
The Illustrious and Puissant PRINCE His Royall Highnesse IAMES Duke of YORKE.
The two Victorious and Loyall Generals, their United EXCELLENCIES, PRINCE RVPERT, AND GEORGE Duke of ALBERMARLE.
The Heroick and Daring Captaines in this Signall VICTORY.
To whom the Author humbly presents this following EPINIKEON.
EDM. GAYTON.
OXON. Printed by H. H. 1666.
To the KING'S most Excellent Majesty.
STill in the
Royall Oake? let it still be,
And let her Arms extend to th' breadth o'th' Sea,
Dare Froggs (vermine
Antimonarchicall)
Croke
Pannick Thunder, or tosse Mimmick ball
Against the
Tree that's sacred unto
Iove?
Which do's fear
Him, not Thunder from above
Nor yours below, fatt
Cyclops, slaves to fire,
Aetna, and scorch'd
Vesuvius be your hire,
Deluded Wigeons, mere decoys, no more
Your fausen proud
D' Wit
Achitophell, adore
[Page 2] That water
Oracle; Otters lift up
Your ugly snouts before your farewell Cupp:
Here is Flap-
Dragon sent you from the Main,
And
Brandy spouted from the
Soveraign.
Insulting Froggs stand off, for the
Huge Thing
You took to be a logg, it proves a
King:
Amands you from her presence, which does send
You quick, unto
Proserpina's grimm
Friend.
But hush, not one word more, no farther on,
Be mute and hear the Canto of S
r
Iohn:
Be dumb you tinckling Rhimes, poor petite things
When such a Poet writes, and the King sings.
To his Royal Highnesse IAMES Duke of YORK, Lord high Admiral of England.
OH for a Veine, a Fancie, Head, or Quill,
Like his that whilom wrote of
Cooper's (Hill!
Or such a style as his, who colours taught
To speak, and paint t'engage, & skirmish brought;
Yet not that Pen of his, Oh a sad work!
Which lately
Panegyrckt our
Olivet[?].
English
TVRK.Great SIR, our
Oxford (near to
Otmore Geese,
And
VVolvercott) afford us none of these.
Such as they are your
Highnesse they shall shew,
And set
Your Worth forth to the publick view.
Let
Opdam speak, that now with
Neptune dwels,
Condemn'd to Sword-fish in his watry Cells,
For daring to attaque Your
Roall Ship,
With his unequal and confounded skipp:
[Page 4] See where he flew in Sulphurous atomes, sent
To th' Prince of Flames, for his most bold attempt:
Yet he did boast (audacious Wretch!) to sink
The Admiral, but paid for it I think.
Princes must die (as punisht in first age)
Not in their proper Persons, but by Page:
Falmouth was thy obliged
Proxie, dyes
For Royal
York, a surety sacrifice:
O Noble Widdow! weep not for that Head,
Which lies for ever in Dame Honours bed;
The Arme-full that you want, fair
Thetis laies
In her own Lap, and
Tritons work his Bayes.
But MINGS with swift Revenge did sell his life
At such a rate, as gratifyd a
Wife.
So home we came with Captiv'd
Holland Fleet,
And JAMES
Batavicus we loudly greet:
So may we shout! let thy great Spirit be
Our
Genius, Guardian, and
Victory.
To the most equally High and Valiant Prince RUPERT, and the Duke of ALBERMARLE, the Incorporate Generals of the English Navy.
SO shine our
Castor, and our
Pollux Rayes,
Which scatter Vict'ries, & Triumphant Bayes.
Brave ominous Conjunction! that portends
More than
Albumazars can tell, or fiends:
The
Ephemerides is drunk, we laugh
To see your Height above the
Iacob-staff▪
Look up, and view in taile o'th' Waine of
Charles,
Two new-found Lights,
Ruperts and
Albemarls.
Did ever
Fortune before losse of Eyes
More justly temper these great Deities
Vnto a
pondus valiant? a rare rate,
Of which Physitians do but fondly prate.
That Valour and Successe, which on
Edg-hill
Enter'd the Camp, doth rest upon
Thee still.
[Page 6] It is the same with
Thee (Nephew of Kings)
To baffle Squadrons, as thou once didst Wings.
MONK with's Powder doth sublime those loggs
Of flesh, the
Dutch, and makes them flying boggs.
Where's
Negromantick dogg? my Dearest
Arthur Trever, Counsel to the Prince.
Trever
Scylla, and all her dogs wait on him ever,
And in his watry Cabin the dog lies,
And like the
Dog-star burns their Skips and Hoyes.
The Ships are
Bone-fires to themselves, that light
Saves them the charge of
Beacons in the Night.
You Rascals, steal no more our English coals,
Lest your whole Navie burns in Creeks and Holes:
Remember how you rob the Seas, We can
Call our selves
Vindex of the Ocean.
Your
Sea-rapes, and
Amboyna's murders stand
The dire account of your perfidious land,
So on the
foot you owe our
Admirall,
Your thorough Ruine, then 'tis
All-to
mall[?].
Vpon the victorious Sea Captaines, Generals of Squadrons, VVonders in Fire and VVater, Flag Officers that never flag'd.
WHat
Lights are these create us a new day
Shine like those stars in
Via Lactea?
Streamers and
Flaggs of Honour, like the taile
Of
Comets shooting fate where they look pale.
Our
Netherlands have found their influence,
And now that they're
Low-Countries have a sence:
You beasts o'th people humbly bring your gelt,
And save your
Dorps, let no more blood be spilt.
Fire hath no mercy, your
Tar-pawlin jowles
Will fry like rashers on
New-castle coales.
He'l make a
Troy of your seven
Provinces.
Yeeld, or be ashes, straight give up your
Borronghs,
Before you are calcin'd into
Gomorrah's,
And thou Grand
Beaufort, that hast made a halt
To see these fires, shalt be a
Pile of Salt:
Poor Undertakers, and forlorne in hope,
When Fleets do yeeld to
Faufan and a
Sloope,
The French
Armado from the hills o'th Maine;
(As once from land) may eene go back again:
And if you want a driver in the rear,
S
r
Robert make
our[?] Valiant
Gardiner,
He, and our
Oxford Ianes shall give 'um knocks,
And pepper 'um, I'le warrant, to their
Pox.
To the Valiant, Vigorous, Loyal, and Succesful SOULDIERS in the Royal Navy, Red-coats, White-coats, & others, wherewith the GENERALS take Dutch-men and Ships, as they take Whiting, Haddock, and Mackarel with pieces of Cloth.
NOw you have plaid, brave Blades, your parts,
Let us play ours,
us of the Arts,
Who now in Regulation high,
Do fling our Caps, like you, to th' skie.
We are distinguish'd by our Gowns,
As you in Squadrons on the Downs;
And in our new and disciplin'd joyes,
Know Graduats
plaudits from the Boyes.
Our way of praises are the
Hum,
Which you out-vapor with the Drumm.
We burn the Faggots, piles of Wood,
And you burn Ships, which is as good,
Lament their tosted Cheese, and
Smell'um.
The Dog dayes did not hurt your Butter,
So much as MONK encountring
Ruyter,
Who did so bang, and thwack, and thump
You both, you cant tell which is
Trump:
Nay'tis soft whisperd, that
De-Witte
Is stept aside, that lesuit,
And proud and politick
Machevael,
To take some hempen Cordial,
He might have staid at home, the people
Would fain have truss'd him in the Steeple,
For he deceiv'd them with his lies,
Flying reports, for which he flies:
De-Wit's out-witted, for he thought
That
Albemarle would nere have fought,
And
Rupert both, in one tall good
Ship, but in several Squadrons stood;
Nor ever did they dream, Sr.
Robert
Should have the plundring of their Cupbord,
For all the
frokens, and the
froes,
Most Brawny Wenches fat as Does,
Do curse him day and night, for they
Make houses clean, we clean away.
[Page 11] Oh slave, (saies Mistris
Vandermast)
I'me burnt even quite below the Wast:
Holland was never in such plight;
They thought it
Goshen, 'twas so light.
Mourning there is, for cuts and slashes,
Yet not in sack, nor cloth, but ashes;
For those S
r
Roberts men of Cockets
Put up in Belly, and in pockets.
I think, poor
Hogen Mogen Ninnies,
That
Holmes has paid you for your
Guinyes,
And for his polt o'th' pate; for
Schelling
Can tell how divelshly he fell in,
And made a Bone-fire of a Dorpe that day,
By which his Souldiers ran away,
'Twas better so, then longer stay.
FINIS.