Votum Perenne. A POEM TO THE KING ON NEW-YEARS-DAY.
BY THOMAS SHADWELL, Esq; Poet Laureat, and Historiographer Royal.
LONDON, Printed for Samuel Crouch, at the Corner of Pope's-Head-Alley, over against the Royal-Exchange, 1692.
Votum Perenne.
A POEM to the KING on New-Years-Day.
NOW Janus in his Office does appear,
To close the Last, and to unfold this Year;
His dreadful Temple now wide open stands,
And Europe is Oppress'd by Warring Bands.
For You Sir, 'tis reserv'd to quell the Foes,
And only You those Fatal Doors can close.
Illustrious Monarch! on this Solemn Day
The Humble Tribute of our Hearts we pay.
Big with our Vows and Pray'rs, that Heaven would bless
Your Person and your Arms with such Success,
That ev'ry Day your Glory may encrease.
And never may Sinister Fate oppose,
Till you have rais'd your Friends, and humbled all your Foes.
No Nation is like ours securely Blest,
While all the World is Plagu'd, we are at Rest.
This more than Goshen is, the Power Divine
Has made Two Suns in our Horizon shine:
A Prince who bravely can abroad orecome,
While his Fair Queen can wisely Reign at Home.
Our last Three Years so Marvellous have been,
Th' Almighty Pow'r to Atheists must be seen:
Since the vast Scene was shifted with such ease,
Calm was the Land, and Quiet were the Seas,
And all along th' Invasion it was Peace.
The Sun thus gently gives the Morning Birth,
And with its Fruitful Beams invades the Earth.
The Neighbouring Isle was not so wise as we,
That could not taste the Sweets of Liberty,
But the Event of Bloody War would see.
You of all Princes like, and need Praise least,
Yet must it in your Story be exprest:
Excuse your Poet who your Praise must Write,
If as Historian he your Deeds recite.
Who can but with Poetick Heat be warm'd
By your great Wonders at the Boin perform'd?
Whose Spirit Kindled up the Fainting War
Into a Flame, which spread out wide and far.
None e're so wisely Led, so bravely Fought:
By You thus fir'd, by your Example taught,
Your Leaders since vast Miracles have wrought:
Which with Amazement the French Generals fill'd
Though bold in Arms, and much in Conduct skill'd:
Not Art, nor Nature could their Men Secure
Against such Daring Souls as would no Bounds endure.
Inspir'd by Your great Cause and Mighty Name,
They thought no Price too dear to pay for Fame.
No Difficulty could your Arms oppose,
No Hold was strong enough to Guard your Foes,
Not Forts, not Towns, nor Camps more strong than those;
Not Treacherous Bogs, nor Rapid Floods could serve,
No Hills, no Streightness, Rebels could preserve:
But every where before your Troops they fall,
So well they Copied out their Great Original.
What Triumphs had another Scene Adorn'd,
But the Grand Lewis had too well been warn'd;
And those who felt what you before had done,
Ingloriously the proffer'd Combat shun;
And in their Coverts clos'd, the Beasts of Prey
Stir'd not, till the Great Nimrod was away.
A Foe t'his Face, they never' dare Attack,
But soon grow Furious, if he turns his Back.
Nor durst their Boasting and Vain-glorious Fleet
Your Gallant well appointed Navy meet.
Your Person cannot in each Place appear,
Where your own Ensigns fly, your Vertue's there.
Though ev'ry Night the Sun his Beams withdraws,
His Influence yet by Night does huge Productions cause.
But loe, the busie and enquiring Muse,
Did Fates Mysterious Volumes late peruse;
Those Hidden Rolls which to the World give Law,
Where she the Rise, and Fall of Empires saw;
She in a Vision whisper'd to my Ear,
That a more Wondrous Scene would yet appear,
And this should be the most Important Year;
That my Great Master was by Fate design'd
To Quiet the Disturber of Mankind.
And Sir, the Happy Time's approaching now,
When his to your Superior Fate must bow:
Who shall Invade him in his Tenderest part,
And bend or break his too Imperious Heart:
His Violence and Rapine bring to Naught,
Which have through Europe such Destruction wrought.
You Sir, shall make those dire Convulsions cease
And give the Shaken World a firm and glorious Peace.
Almighty Power make this Prediction true,
And with Success in all things prosper You;
Heaven from th'Abundance of its precious Store,
Such Blessings on your Royal Temples pour,
Till you can ask, and that can give no more.
So Prays
Your Majesties most Dutiful Servant, and most Loyal Subject, Tho. Shadwell.
ADVERTISEMENT.
THE Ingenious and Diverting Letters of the Lady — Travels into Spain; Describing the Devotions, Nunneries, Humours, Customs, Laws, Militia, Trade, Diet and Recreations of that People. Intermixt with great Variety of Modern Adventures, and Surprising Accidents: Being the Truest and Best Remarks Extant on that Court and Country. First and Second Part, Printed for Samuel Crouch.