[Brewers' and Vintners' blazon]


A SPEECH Made to his EXCELLENCY GEORGE MONCK General, &c. The Twelfth day of Aprill, M. DC. LX. At a Solemn Entertainment at VINTENERS-HAL. Wherein His Illustrious Virtues are shaddowed forth under the Emblem of a VINE.

WElcome (Great Sir) thrice welcome to this Hall;
We 've nothing else to welcome you withall.
All else is but your own; to You we owe,
Life, Liberties, Estates, Religion too:
All else is in your Power, only our hearts
Are free to welcome and admire your arts.
Time was, when we were forc't to court our Chains,
And kisse the Rod which jerk't us for our pains:
We durst not cry for fear of t'other lash,
But smooth'd our browes, and blubber'd faces washt.
Our Lurdan Masters made us them reward,
For keeping of our Liberties in Ward.
But unto You, our hearts aspire to fall
A willing Sacrifice, this Festivall;
Nor think it (Sir) a hollow complement,
We deal in Wine, Wine only truth doth vent.
Now give us leave to borrow from our Trade,
Something which may your radiant Virtues shade:
And what may better Suit you than the Vine,
That Noble Plant, which does such worth enshrine?
First, in its leaves which hide and guard the cluster,
It notes your modesty, which hides your lustre;
It shews your secrecy; by which secur'd
You have a Bloudless Victory procur'd:
O happy soul! whose silence could do more
Then Arts and Armes, then Retorick and Pow'r.
You have Three Nations redeem'd, and yet,
Not spilt one drop of bloud in doing it.
You gently did the Strength and Weapons steal
Out of their hands, before they could it feel.
Let Rome and Tully boast; let Athens bless
Demostenes, and thundring Pericles:
Give me the man who works without a noise,
Who spares his tongue and hands, but Wit imployes.
Again, the Vine's not spent in leaves and paint,
But under its own fruitful load doth faint;
That load which lightens men of all their cares,
And fainting spirits with new life repairs.
Thus You (my Lord) oppress your self with pains,
To bring forth unto us more easie gains.
Under your watchful eyes we sleep secure,
Under your armes our Commerce we ensure.
Peace, Freedom, Laws (both humane and divine)
Are the delicious fruits of You our Vine.
These are your first-fruits, and they tast so sweet,
We long for those which hang not ripened yet:
There's something still remains to crown the rest,
To bind all fast, and make us firmly blest.
Some are already drunk with what-they tast,
And in a drunken fit quarrel for hast.
We wrestle yet with jealousies and threats?
'Tis time must ripen all with kindly hears.
There are Phanatiques that on both sides rage,
'Till by your art you coop'em in one cage:
And while you check Religious lunacies,
Restrain likewise prophaner luxuries.
Secure all stakes; all sober men Engage;
This will embalme your Name to future age.
And as the Vine adorns its prop and spreads,
And twists the branches of the tree it Weds:
So do your Virtues spread about these Lands
Which You Espouse, and linke them all in bands
Of sacred wedlock; all men do combine
In You, and mingled Interests intwine.
You moderate, You hush, and silence all
Our jangling factions and confused brawle.
Bind all unto Your self, and each to other;
Let none Engrosse You, be a common Brother
The Vine (as in the Parable we read)
Refus'd to domineer with lofty head.
Though Brambles may in Lordly rule delight
To scratch, and tear, and rend down all by might:
The humble Vine seeks no such rampant tops,
But lowly creeps unless advanc't by props:
Thus You aspire not unto gay Dominion;
Whose happiness is meerly in opinion:
It is presum'd you'd rather make a King
Then your own hands, to Sway a Scepter bring;
This will Immortalize and blaze your story,
And Crown your head with spendant beams of glory.

If any other Speech be Printed, pretended to be spoken in Vinteners-Hall, they are Counterfeits, and none true but this.

Tho. Jordan.
⟨April .13.⟩

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