His generous mind the fair ideas drew
Of fame and honour, which in dangers lay; Where wealth, like fruit on precipices, grew, Not to be gather'd but by birds of prey.
The lofs and gain each fatally were great;
And still his subjects call'd aloud for war :
But peaceful kings, o'er martial people fet,
Each other's poize and counterbalance are.
XIII.
He first furvey'd the charge with careful eyes,
Which none but mighty monarchs could maintain
Yet judg'd, like vapours that from limbecs rife,
It would in richer fhowers defcend again.
At length refolv'd t' affert the watery ball,
He in himself did whole Armadoes bring:
Him aged feamen might their mafter call,
And chufe for general, were he not their king.
XV.
It seems as every fhip their fovereign knows,
His awful fummons they fo foon obey;
So hear the fcaly herd when Proteus blows,
And fo to pafture follow through the fea.
XVI.
To fee this fleet upon the ocean move,
Angels drew wide the curtains of the skies;
And heaven, as if there wanted lights above,
For tapers made two glaring comets rise.
Whether they unctuous exhalations are,
Fir'd by the fun, or feeming fo alone;
Or each fome more remote and flippery flar,
Which lofes footing when to mortals fhewn.
XVIII.
Or one, that bright companion of the fun,
Whofe glorious afpect feal'd our new-born king;
And now, a round of greater years begun,
New influence from his walks of light did bring.
XIX.
Victorious York did firft with fam'd fuccefs,
To his known valour make the Dutch give place:
Thus heaven our monarch's fortune did confefs,
Beginning conqueft from his royal race.
But fince it was decreed, aufpicious king,
In Britain's right that thou fhouldft wed the main, Heaven, as a gage, would caft fome precious thing, And therefore doom'd that Lawfon fhould be flain. XXI.
Lawfon amongst the foremost met his fate,
Whom fea-green Sirens from the rocks lament
Thus as an offering for the Grecian state,
He first was kill'd who firft to battle went.
XXII.
Their chief blown up in air, not waves, expir'd,
To which his pride prefum'd to give the law:
The Dutch confefs'd heaven present, and retir'd,
And all was Britain the wide ocean faw.
To nearest ports their shatter'd ships repair,
Where by our dreadful cannon they lay aw'd:
So reverently men quit the open air,
When thunder fpeaks the angry gods abroad.
XXIV.
And now approach'd their fleet from India fraught,
With all the riches of the rising sun :
And precious fand from southern climates brought,
The fatal regions where the war begun.
Like hunted caftors, confcious of their store,
Their way-laid wealth to Norway's coafts they bring :
There firft the North's cold bofom fpices bore,
And winter brooded on the eastern spring...
XXVI.
By the rich scent we found our perfum'd prey,
Which, flank'd with rocks, did clofe in covert lie:
And round about their murdering cannon lay,
At once to threaten and invite the eye.
XXVII.
Fiercer than cannon, and than rocks more hard,
The English undertake th' unequal war:
Seven ships alone, by which the port is barr'd,
Befiege the Indies, and all Denmark dare.
XXVIII.
These fight like hufbands, but like lovers thofe :
These fain would keep, and those more fain enjoy:
And to fuch height their frantic paffion grows,
That what both love, both hazard to destroy.
Amidst whole heaps of fpices lights a ball,
And now their odours arm'd against them fly:
Some preciously by shatter'd porcelain fall,
And fome by aromatic fplinters die.
And though by tempefts of the prize bereft,
In heaven's inclemency fome ease we find :
Our foes we vanquish'd by our valour left,
And only yielded to the feas and wind.
Nor wholly loft we so deserv'd a prey;
For ftorms repenting part of it reftor'd:
Which, as a tribute from the Baltic fea,
The British ocean fent her mighty lord.
XXXII.
Go mortals now and vex yourselves in vain
For wealth, which fo uncertainly must come :
When what was brought so far, and with fuch pain,
Was only kept to lose it nearer home.
The fon, who twice three months on th' ocean toft,
Prepar'd to tell what he had pass'd before,
Now fees in English fhips the Holland coast,
And parents arms, in vain, ftretch'd from the shore.
XXXIV.
This careful husband had been long away,
Whom his chafte wife and little children mourn; Who on their fingers learn'd to tell the day
On which their father promis'd to return.
Such are the proud designs of human-kind,
And so we suffer fhipwreck every where !
Alas, what port can such a pilot find,
Who in the night of fate must blindly steer!
XXXVI.
The undiftinguifh'd feeds of good and ill,
Heaven in his bofom from our knowledge hides: And draws them in contempt of human skill, Which oft for friends mistaken foes provides. XXXVII.
Let Munfter's prelate ever be accurft,
In whom we feek the German faith in vain :
Alas, that he fhould teach the English first,
That fraud and avarice in the church could reign!
XXXVIII.
Happy, who never trust a stranger's will,
Whofe friendship's in his intereft understood!
Since money given but tempts him to be ill,
When power is too remote to make him good.
XXXIX.
Till now, alone the mighty nations ftrove;
The reft, at gaze, without the lists did stand;
And threatening France, plac'd like a painted Jove,
Kept idle thunder in his lifted hand.
That eunuch guardian of rich Holland's trade,
Who envies us what he wants power t' enjoy ;
Whofe noiseful valour does no foe invade,
And weak affiftance will his friends destroy.
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