A PANEGYRICK TO THE KING.
VAliant, and Wise, with Fame and Conquests blest;
These Titles have by others been possest.
Tamerlane, Caesar, forty Braves before,
As much have ventur'd, or have vanquish'd more.
Fame's a cheap Price, about in common hurl'd,
The Lot of every Bustler of the World.
Valour's a Vice, injuriously pursu'd,
And Wisdom, oft, but Cunning to delude.
These have been mourn'd in most, and might in Thee,
If Foes to Right, and Friends to Tyranny:
If fraudfull Counsels, to promote Thy Spoil,
Labour'd ill-listning Nations to embroil:
If vain Ambition led Thy Arms, and Power
Were but Thy wrongfull Means to compass more;
[Page 4] (Whilst the false Hero, frantickly possest,
Others disturbing, gave himself no rest.)
But when Thy Arms, Thy Counsels, and Thy State,
(To shew Thee truly and entirely Great)
Protect, not harm, and bravely are apply'd
To raise the Prostrate, and to humble Pride;
When those, and those alone, Thy Foes we find,
Who too are Foes of Nature, and Mankind;
When all Thy juster Policies delight,
Not to divide the World, but to unite;
When chusing Peace, or animating War,
The Publick Good, is still Thy Private Care;
When thus Thou tread'st unquestion'd Paths of Praise,
Persuing Generous Ends by Generous Ways;
This Noble Use, this Majesty of Soul
Exalts the Rest, and dignifies the Whole:
To Rarer Honour a Superiour Claim
Erects, and gives Distinction to Thy Fame.
Then, when the Nations view thy wide-stretch'd Pow'r,
They view with Pleasure, and they wish it more;
Joy in Thy Conduct, which so wisely knows
To vanquish Obstacles, and frustrate Foes,
An equal Stream, that silent flows and strong,
Bears up all Weight, and drives all Force along;
Thy Courage charms us then, or when to wield
The Sword, it bears Thee boiling to the Field;
Or when it wings thy Generous Hast, nor Stay
Allows, tho' Nature would forbid Thy way;
[Page 5] Not letting Winter Winter be to Thee,
But mocking hazards of a Frozen Sea;
Where Ice and Cold Thy Ardour but inflame,
And darkning Mists give Lustre to thy Fame.
Then fond of all, we every Talent bless,
In each the Hero visible confess;
Then a shy Muse, that timerous of Praise,
Wou'd to vain Idols Altars scorn to raise,
Her Incense brings, and daring Thee to sing,
The Conqueror hails, the Peace-maker, and King.
A King whom Fate a Sovereign wou'd advance,
Not by so low a Means as Birth, and Chance:
A King petition'd to accept of Power,
And rule a State thy Arms preserv'd before.
Of old when
Perseus freed the Lovely Maid,
He set his price, and bargain'd for his Aid:
View'd the chain'd Beauty with desiring Eyes,
And ask'd the Victim as the Victor's Prize.
Noblier by Thee was the fair Isle reliev'd,
Not claim'd and paid, but offer'd and receiv'd.
Let those court Empire who want Empire's State;
The Hero needs no Throne to make him Great:
Owes his own Arm what Glory can afford,
Nor Scepter sees so shining as his Sword.
Him Empire courts, Kingdoms on him rely,
And to His Sword Scepters for Refuge fly.
[Page 6] Sure Liberty we saw in Thy Command,
Nor fear'd Protection from so strong a Hand:
Whilst well we judg'd (nor did in vain depend)
That he who cou'd Deliver cou'd Defend.
Th' Event has answer'd with so kind Success,
We want no more, and Thou wou'dst give no less.
Thou mak'st our Ends attain'd, our Wars to cease;
Thou mad'st to us those very Wars be Peace.
At Home secur'd, untroubl'd from Abroad,
Hostility forbid, and Faction aw'd.
Not so
Hibernian Plains th' injurious Foe
Escap'd, nor
Caledonian Mountains so;
A ruder Fate they found, their Sanguine share,
Were Fields of Triumph, but were Fields of War.
So though
Jove Rules, are harmfull Tempests hurl'd,
Vexing his distant and inferiour World:
But where th' Imperial God his Court maintains,
That Region's safe, there Peace unalter'd reigns:
No Storm may rise that Quiet to impair;
Nor will he need to use his Thunder there.
Such the sure Calm, so placid, and serene,
Of our blest Seat has been the gentle Scene.
Aloft Thy shelter o'er the Land display'd,
We sate below, and wanton'd in Thy Shade.
If Danger e'er presum'd to grow more bold,
It cou'd not reach, and scarce alarm'd Thy Fold.
[Page 7] Then too the Foe took care to let us see,
From Thy watch'd Absence, what we owe to Thee.
Car'd not t'approach, when we might have thee here,
But in his very daring shew'd his Fear.
Thus all own'd Thee the Guardian of our State;
By Thee made Safe, and by Thee too made Great.
Great, as when fam'd in noble former Days,
Our War was Honour, and our Peace was Praise;
E'er erring Interests in inglorious Times,
Ease and Contention made alike our Crimes:
Great, as when we so wisely knew to doe
Our own at once, and the World's Business too.
Such are the Glories which Thou dost restore;
Such Policies, such Warfare, and such Power.
England once more is
England, and Thy Reign
Has seen her act her brave old Part again;
Balance wild Power, that wou'd too far prevail,
Lend her important Weight, and poize the Scale.
Again her Arms for Freedom have appear'd,
Again in
Belgian Plains been lov'd and fear'd:
Her Youth rejoycing to the Field did go,
To gain new Honours from her ancient Foe;
Whilst under Thee she traffick'd for a Name,
Dealt with vain Wealth for large Returns in Fame.
Here cou'd she see a Conquering Navy come,
Full fraught with never-fading Lawrels home:
[Page 8] There how unrivall'd, th' Ocean all her own;
She rode at large, triumphantly alone.
As when a Soveraign Lion, sternly great,
Ranges a
Lybian Wast in Martial State,
His vanquisht Rival sought, but sought in vain,
Close in some sheltring Cave resigns the Plain.
There if he hear the Conquerour dreadfull roar,
He shrinks in further, and he trembles more:
Mindfull of former Wounds, while no rash heat
Rises to tempt him to a new Defeat:
Such was the Scene then on the Watry Plain;
So did Thy awfull Fleets possess the Main.
On
Indian Seas Thy Flags were seen Renown'd,
And Mid-land Coasts heard Thy dread Cannon sound.
Then how we lov'd to see proud States afraid!
The
Tuscan Duke, and
Adriatick Maid
Send, and make court, and fawn upon Thy Power
Which ill they thought not their concern before.
So the Clouds heard to murmur from afar,
The distant Sound mayn't give the Impious care;
But as the Rolling Terror moves more near,
They shrink, and bow, and own the Thunderer.
Let strong Ambition make the Nations bend,
And o'er the Vassal Earth its sway extend,
'Tis narrow all to the unbounded Sea,
And who Reigns there, the mighty Monarch's He.
Yet may not Oceans limit Thy Command;
Lord o'er the Waves Thou Conqueror art at Land.
Kingdoms with Thee Thy Armies have o'er-run,
And Forts contriv'd, to mock Assailants, won;
There where no Bars cou'd their hot course restrain;
But Hills, and Rocks, and Walls, and Troops were vain:
Those too so strong that these they scarce requir'd,
So numerous these that ill they those desir'd.
What Toils despis'd! what Miracles perform'd!
What threatning Works how impudently storm'd!
How easie 'twere the Master'd World t' o'ercome,
Once
Pyrrhus said, for either me or
Rome!
For me with
Roman Soldiers to my Aid,
For
Rome with me her great Commander made
What hopes might then by Thee, and us be fed!
By Thee so follow'd, and by us so led!
If we at least can well the
Romans be,
More than the
Pyrrhus we possess in Thee.
Like him unwearied, generous Thou, and Brave,
Partak'st all Dangers, and no Toil wilt save.
Like His, thy Battels from their General shine,
And Thy self wins the Vict'ries which are Thine.
Like him thou know'st, but greater Things, to gain;
But unlike him thou know'st too to retain
His Worth obtain'd (when Fate wou'd on him smile)
From willing Hands the fair
Sicilian Isle;
More has Thine done, and what his cou'd not do,
Obtain'd thy Island, and preserv'd it too.
When Peace He offer'd to the
Roman Pride,
Claudius was heard, and
Pyrrhus was deny'd;
Thou had'st to Thee th'uncourted Proffer brought,
And to Thy very Camp Thy Friendship sought:
Then Peace was too a Business of the Field,
And Armies saw the
Gaul descending yield,
[Page 10] Glad to compound, and let the World be free,
Leave Thee Thy Kingdoms, and Thy Kingdoms Thee.
'Tis done, Contention and Debate are o'er,
And Arms and warlike Honours are no more.
No more Thy Martial Heat must warm the Field;
No more Thy Sword needs be the Nation's Shield.
No
Boyne may now, compell'd to yield Thee way,
Submit, and give a Kingdom with the Day.
No
Namur Tow'rs, that haughty mount the Sky,
Shall stoop to raise Thy Trophies yet more high.
But ruling Arts, and civil Conduct shewn,
All that in Peace is by good Monarchs done;
The Wealth restor'd which needfull War hath drain'd,
And Luxury, its softer Foe, restraind:
The Nation's Interest watchfully persu'd,
The Court inspected, and the State review'd.
Law which reform'd, shall Sense and Justice be,
Nor vex'd with Arts, nor lost in Nicety;
Commerce well settled, as well understood,
Not rul'd by private Gain, but publick Good;
These left Thee still, shall ample Glories bring,
And tho' the Soldier's past make great the King.
Oh might we but hope too, (nor hope in vain)
Our ancient
English Manners to regain;
Might Sterling Honesty once more be prais'd,
Restor'd, and to its noble Standard rais'd;
Then the Coin's fam'd Reform shou'd be a poor
Atchievement, and appear a Boast no more;
The greater Glory should the less deface,
To purer Virtue still the Silver Base.
And this shall be, degenerate fraud shall die,
And artless Faith, and old Simplicity
Revive, and banish all those thousand Ways,
By which false Man his Fellow Man betrays.
[Page 11] Then Golden Times shall once again commence,
(The first but Plenty were and Innocence)
Those Golden Times shall be acknowledg'd Thine,
And as our Money, with Thy Image shine;
A Sett of Years which taking rise from Thee,
Shall make Thy Reign another
Epoche.
What Poets then shall sing in gratefull Lays,
What happy Poets, of those happy Days:
How will they love the Beauties to reherse!
The flowry Scene to paint in flowry Verse.
Yet as they wander, in a gayer Strain,
O'er the smooth Praises of Thy Halcyon Reign;
Some too shall take a Pleasure to look back,
And of a rougher Fame a View shall take;
From Thy first Start deduc'd Thy Deeds shall trace
Through all th' Extent of the Heroick Race;
Shew how Thy Worth Thy way to Honour made;
A Worth obscur'd, and breaking from a Shade:
As when fair Light through hostile Chaos prest,
And vig'rous ever since the Globe has blest;
How at Thy Rise, surprize did all engage,
To see Thee such, surmounting all Presage;
Daring, yet Cool; Conceal'd, yet no Disguise;
Steddy with Youth, without Experience, Wise.
How Thy own
Holland Thou, so well, didst free;
By others lost, to be retriev'd by Thee;
How in a larger Sphere advanc'd to shine,
The Leagu'd Affairs of half a World were Thine!
What Actions here? What Virtues shall they see?
What Faith? What Spirit? And what Constancy?
When with a
Fabian Firmness, still the same,
Thou kept'st Thy Course, slighting, and gaining, Fame;
[Page 12] Fixt in Thy Prudence, resolute to Thy Ends,
Nor tir'd with mighty Foes, nor feeble Friends.
Here, a fierce Chief shock'd in his Conquering way,
Shalt Thou Stem Vict'ry, and reverse the Day;
There a forc'd Camp expiring War shall crown;
An Act so bold, it cou'd be Thine alone.
Grave, Narden, Bon, shall be renew'd to Fame,
And all Thy Wonders a Regard shall claim.
A thousand more of Brav'ry shall they find;
A thousand of the Honour of Thy Mind;
That Wrongs and Interest, cou'd alike Disdain,
And throw back offer'd Rule that wou'd its Brightness strain.
Those Jarrs asleep, Thou shalt repose awhile,
Till new Alarms sound to re-wake Thy Toil.
Then rous'd afresh they Thee shall lead to War,
With equal Ardour, and with equal Care.
There later Scenes again shall full be shown;
All that Thou hast perform'd, and
Europe known,
'Till now, once more of lovely Peace possest,
She from Thy Labours re-injoys her Rest.
So when black Southern Clouds begin to pour
Impetuous down a wild destructive Show'r,
Then from the North does the brave
Boretts rise,
A ready Champion, and asserts the Skies.
What Conflicts then the suffering Air molest?
The Plains above groan with the strong Contest.
The Face of Heav'n shifts, various, to the View;
Half clear it smiles, then gloomy frowns anew;
The Wind persists, is obstinate and fierce;
Till, tir'd the Clouds grow willing to disperse;
'Tis silence then; the warring Tempests cease,
And the fair World, all calm, returns to Peace.
FINIS.