Defert their ports; and, falling in their way,
Our Hamburgh merchants are become their prey.
Thus flourish they, before th' approaching fight;"
As dying tapers give a blazing light.

To check their pride, our fleet half victual'd goes:
Enough to ferve us till we reach our foes.
Who now appear fo numerous and bold,
The action worthy of our arms we hold.
A greater force than that which here we find,
Ne'er prefs'd the ocean, nor employ'd the wind.
Reftrain'd awhile by the unwelcome night,
Th' impatient English fcarce attend the light.
But now the morning (heaven fevercly clear!)
To the fierce work indulgent does appear:
And Phœbus lifts above the waves his light,
That he may fee, and thus record, the fight.
As when loud winds from different quarters rush,
Vaft clouds encountering one another crush :
With fwelling fails, fo from their feveral coafts,
Join the Batavian and the British hofts.
For a lefs prize, with lefs concern and rage,
The Roman fleets at Actium did engage;
They, for the empire of the world they knew:
Thefe, for the old contend, and for the new.
At the first fhock, with blood and powder ftain'd,
Nor heaven nor fea their former face retain'd:
Fury and art produce effects fo ftrange,
They trouble nature, and her vifage change.
Where burning fhips the banifh'd fun fupply,
And no light shines, but that by which men die;
There York appears; fo prodigal is he
Of royal blood, as ancient as the fea!
Which down to him, fo many ages told,
Has through the veins of mighty Monarchs roll'd!
The great Achilles march'd not to the field,
Till Vulcan that impenetrable fhield

And arms had wrought: yet there no bullets flew; But fhafts, and darts, which the weak Phrygians

threw.

Our bolder Hero on the deck does ftand
Expos'd, the bulwark of his native land:
Defenfive arms laid by as ufelefs here,
Where maffy balls the neighbouring rocks do tear.
Some power unfeen thofe Princes does protect,
Who for their country thus themfelves neglect.

Against him firft Opdam his fquadron leads,
Proud of his late fuccefs against the Swedes:
Made by that action, and his high command,
Worthy to perifh by a Prince's hand.
The tall Batavian in a vast ship rides,
Bearing an army in her hollow fides:
Yet, not inclin'd the English fhip to board,
Móre on his guns relies, than on his fword;
From whence a fatal volley we receiv'd,
It mifs'd the Duke, but his great heart it griev'd:
*Three worthy perfons from his fide it tore,
And dy'd his garment with their fcatter'd gore.
Happy! to whom this glorious death arrives;
More to be valued than a thoufand lives!
On fuch a theatre as this to die ;

For fuch a caufe, and fuch a witnefs by!
Who would not thus a facrifice be made,
To have his blood on fuch an altar laid?

* Earl of Falmouth, Lord Muskerry, and Mr. Boyle.

The rest about him ftrook with horror flood,
To fee their Leader cover'd o'er with blood:
So trembled Jacob, when he thought the stains
Of his fon's coat had iffued from his veins.
He feels no wound, but in his troubled thought;
Before for honour, now revenge, he fought:
His friends in pieces torn (the bitter news
Not brought by Fame) with his own eyes he views.
His mind at once reflecting on their youth,
Their worth, their love, their valour, and their
truth:

The joys of Court, their mothers, and their wives,
To follow him, abandon'd-and their lives!
He ftorms, and fhoots: but flying bullets now,
To execute his rage, appear too flow:
They mifs, or fweep but common fouls away:
For fuch a lofs, Opdam his life must pay.
Encouraging his men, he gives the word,
With fierce intent that hated ship to board:
And make the guilty Dutch, with his own arm,
Wait on his friends while yet their blood is warm.
His winged veffel like an eagle fhows,
When through the clouds to trufs a fwan fhe goes:
The Belgian fhip unmov'd, like fome huge rock
Inhabiting the fea, expects the fhock.

From both the fleets men's eyes are bent this way,
Neglecting all the bufinefs of the day:
Bullets their flight, and guns their noife fufpend;
The filent ocean does th' event attend;
Which Leader fhall the doubtful victory blefs,
And give an earnest of the war's fuccefs:
When Heaven itself, for England to declare,
Turns fhip, and men, and tackle into air.

Their new commander from his charge is toft,
Which that young Prince had fo unjustly loft,
Whofe great progenitors, with better fate,
And better conduct, fway'd their infant-ftate.
His flight tow'rds heaven th' afpiring Belgia

took :

But fell, like Phaeton, with thunder ftrook:
From vafter hopes than his, he feem'd to fill,
That durft attempt the British Admiral:
From her broadfides a ruder flame is throws,
Than from the fiery chariot of the fan :
That, bears the radiant enfigħ of the day;
And fhe, the flag that governs in the fea.

The Duke ill-pleas'd that fire fhould thus pré

vent

The work, which for his brighter fword he meant
Anger till burning in his valiant breaft,
Goes to complete revenge upon the reft.
So, on the guardlefs herd, their keeper flain,
Rushes a tyger in the Libyan plain.
The Dutch, accuftom'd to the raging fea,
And in black ftorms the frowns of heaven to f
Never met tempeft which more urg'd their fears,
Than that which in the Prince's look appears.
Fierce, goodly, young! Mars he refembles, whet
Jove fends him down to fcourge perfidious me:
Such as with foul ingratitude have paid,
Both those that led, and thofe that gave them at
Where he gives on, difpofing of their fates,
Terror, and death, on his loud cannon warts:

* Prince of Orange.

With which he pleads his Brother's caufe fo well,
He shakes the throne to which he does appeal.
The fea with fpoils his angry bullets ftrow,
Widows and orphans making as they go :
Before his fhip, fragments of vessels torn,
Flags, arms, and Belgian carcafes are borne:
And his despairing foes, to flight inclin'd,
Spread all their canvas to invite the wind.
So the rude Boreas, where he lifts to blow,
Makes clouds above, and billows fly below,
Beating the fhore; and with a boisterous rage,
Does heaven at once, and earth, and fea, engage.
The Dutch, elsewhere, did through the watery
field,

Perform enough to have made others yield;
But English courage, growing as they fight,
In danger, noife, and flaughter takes delight:
Their bloody tafk, unweary'd ftill, they ply,
Only reftrain'd by death or victory.

Iron and lead, from earth's dark entrails torn,
Like fhowers of hail, from either fide are borne:
So high the rage of wretched mortals goes,
Hurling their mother's bowels at their foes!
Ingenious to their ruin, every age

Improves the arts and inftruments of rage:
Death-haftening ills nature enough has sent,
And yet men ftill a thoufand more invent!

But Bacchus now, which led the Belgians on
So fierce at first, to favour us begun :
Brandy and wine (their wonted friends) at length
Render them ufelefs, and betray their ftrength.
So corn in fields, and in the garden flowers,
Revive, and raife themselves, with moderate
fhowers:

But, over-charged with never-ceafing rain,
Become too moift, and bend their heads again.
Their reeling fhips on one another fall,
Without a foe, enough to ruin all.

Of this diforder, and the favouring wind,
The watchful English fuch advantage find;
Ships fraught with fire among the heap they
throw,

And up the fo-intangled Belgians blow.

The flame invades the powder-rooms; and then
Their fhoot bullets, and their veffels men.
guns
The fcorch'd Batavians on the billows float;
Sent from their own, to pafs in Charon's, boat.
And now our Royal Admiral fuccefs
(With all the marks of victory) does blefs:
The burning fhips, the taken, and the slain,
Proclaim his triumph o'er the conquer'd main.
Nearer to Holland as their hafty flight
Carries the noife and tumult of their fight;
His cannons' roar, forerunner of his fame,
Makes their Hague tremble, and their Amfter-
dam :

The British thunder does their houfes rock,
And the Duke feems at every door to knock.
His dreadful Streamer (like a comet's hair.
Threatening deftruction) haftens their despair:
Makes them deplore their scatter'd fleet as loft;
And fear our prefent landing on their coaft
The trembling Dutch th' approaching Prince
behold,

As fheep a lion, leaping tow'rds their fold:

"His fatal hand their bulwarks will o'erthrow; "And let in both the ocean and the foe." Thus cry the people :-and, their land to keep, Allow our title to command the Deep: Blaming their State's ill conduct, to provoke, Thofe arms, which freed them from the Spanish yoke.

Painter! excufe me, if I have a-while Forgot thy art, and us'd another style : For, though you draw arm'd Heroes as they fit: The task in battle does the Mufes fit: They, in the dark confufion of a fight: Discover all; inftruct us how to write; And light and honour to brave actions yield; Hid in the finoke and tumult of the field. Ages to come fhall know that Leader's toil, And his great name, on whom the Mufes fmile: Their dictates here let thy fam'd pencil trace; And this relation with thy colours grace.

Then draw the Parliament, the Nobles met;
And our* Great Monarch high above them fet:
Like young Augustus let this image be,
Triumphing for that victory at fea:
Where Egypt's Queen, and Eaftern Kings, o'er-
thrown,

Made the poffeffion of the world his own.
Laft draw the Commons at his royal feet,
Pouring out treasure to supply his fleet:
They vow with lives and fortune to maintain
Their King's eternal title to the main :
And, with a prefent to the Duke, approve
His valour, conduct, and his country's love.

TO THE KING,

I REAT Sir! difdain not in this piece to ftand,

Gure Se commander both of and land:

Thofe which inhabit the celestial bower,
Painters exprefs with emblems of their power;
His club Alcides, Phoebus has his bow,
Jove has his thunder, and your navy You.

But your great providence no colours here Can reprefext; nor pencil draw that care, Which keeps you waking, to fecure our peace, The nation's glory, and our trade's increase: You, for thefe ends, whole days in council fit : And the diverfions of your youth forget.

Small were the worth of valour and of force, If your high wisdom govern'd not their courie: You as the foul, as the First Mover, you Vigour and life on every part bestow: How to build hips, and dreadful ordnance cafte Inftruct the artists; and reward their haste, * King Charles II.

་

brave,

Court his affiftance, and fufpend their hate.
So angry bulls the combat do forbear,
When from the wood a lion does appear.

This happy day peace to our island fent;
As now he gives it to the Continent.

A Prince more fit for fuch a glorious task,
Than England's King, from Heaven we cannot
afk:

He (great and good!) proportion'd to the work,
Their ill-drawn fwords fhall turn against the Turk.
Such Kings, like stars with influence unconfin'd,
Shine with afpect propitious to mankind;
Favour the innocent, reprefs the bold;
And, while they flourish, make an age of gold.

Bred in the camp, fam'd for his valour young;
At fea fuccefsful, vigorous, and strong;
His fleet, his army, and his mighty mind,
Efteem and reverence through the world do find.
A Prince, with such advantages as these,
"Where he perfuades not, may command a peace.
Britain declaring for the jufter fide,

The most ambitious will forget their pride:
They that complain will their endeavours ceafe,
Advis'd by him, inclin'd to prefent peace:
Join to the Turk's deftruction; and then bring
All their pretences to fo just a King.
1f the fuccefsful troubles of mankind
With laurel crown'd, fo great applause do find;
Shall the vex'd world lefs honour yield to those
That ftop their progrefs, and their rage oppofe?
Next to that power which does the ocean awe,
Is, to fet bounds, and give ambition law.

The British Monarch fhall the glory have, That famous Greece remains no longer flave: That source of art, and cultivated thought! Which they to Rome, and Romans hither, zought. The banish'd Mufes fhall no longer mcurn; But may with Liberty to Greece return

They lost their genius and poetic rage;
Homers again, and Pindars, may be found;
And his great actions with their numbers crown'd
The Turk's vaft empire does united stand:
Chriftians, divided under the command
Of jarring princes, would be foon undone,
Did not this Hero make their intereft one:
Peace to embrace, ruin the common foe,
Exalt the Crofs, and lay the Crefcent low.

Thus may the Gospel to the rifing fun Be fpread, and flourish where it first begun : And this great day (fo juftly honour'd here!) Known to the caft, and celebrated there.

MADA with here of a former age.

ADAM! I here prefent you with the rage,

Wishing you may with as great pleasure view
This, as we take in gazing upon you.
Thus we writ then your brighter eyes inspire
A nobler flame, and raise our genius higher.
While we your wit and early knowledge fear,
To our productions we become fevere:
Your matchless beauty gives our fancy wing;
Your judgment makes us careful how we fing.
Lines not compos'd, as heretofore, in hafte,
Polifh'd like marble, fhall like marble lait :
And make you through as many ages fhine,
As Taffo has the Heroes of your line.

Though other names our wary writers ufe,
You are the fubject of the British Mufe:
Dilating mifchief to yourfelf unknown,
Men write, and die, of wounds they dare not out.
So the bright fun burns all our grafs away,
While it means nothing but to give us day.

This light unknown, bold Epicurus taught, That his bleft Gods vouchfafe us not a thought: But unconcern'd let all below them flide, As fortune does, or human wisdom, guide.

Religion thus remov'd, the facred yoke, And band of all fociety, is broke: What ufe of oaths, of promife, or of test, Where men regard no God, but intereft? What endless war would jealous nations tear, If none above did witness what they swear! Sad face of unbelievers, and yet juft, Among themselves to find fo little truft! Were Scripture filent, nature would proclaim, Without a God, our falfehood and our shame. To know our thoughts the object of his eyes, Is the first step tow'rds being good or wife: For though with judgment we on things reflect, Our Will determincs, not our Intelle&t: Slaves to their paffion, Reafon men employ Only to compass what they would enjoy. His fear, to guard us from ourselves, we need : And Sacred Writ our Reafon does exceed. For though Heaven fhews the glory of the Lord, Yet fomething fhines more glorious in his Word: His mercy this which all his work excels!) His tender kindnefs and compaffion tells: While we, inform'd by that celestial Book, Into the bowels of our Maker look. Love there reveal'd (which never fhall have end, Nor had beginning) hall our fong commend: Defcribe itself, and warm us with that flame, Which first from heaven, to make us happy, came.

The world a palace was, without a guek,
Till one appears, that must excel the reft:
One! like the Author, whofe capacious mind
Might, by the glorious werk, the Maker find:
Might measure heaven, and give each star a name:
With art and courage the rough ocean tame;
Over the globe with fwelling fails might go,
And that 'tis round by his experience know:
Make strongest beafts obedient to his will,
And serve his ufe the fertile earth to till.
When, by his Word, God had accomplish'd all,
Man to create he did a council call:
Employ'd his hand, to give the dust he took
A graceful figure and majestic look :
With his own breath, convey'd into his breaft
Life, and a foul fit to command the reit.
Worthy alone to celebrate his name
For fuch a gift; and tell from whence it came.
Birds fing his praises in a wilder note;
But not with lafting numbers, and with thought
Man's great prerogative! But above all
His grace abounds in his new favourite's fall,
If he create, it is a world he makes;
If he be angry, the creation shakes:
From his just wrath our guilty parents filed;
He curft the earth, but bruis'd the ferpent's head,
Amidst the storm, his bounty did exceed,
In the rich promife of the Virgin's feed:
Though juflice death, as fatisfaction, craves,
Love finds a way to pluck us from our graves.

CANTO II.

"HE fear of hell, or aiming to be bleft,

This mov'd not Mofes, nor the zealous Paul;
Who for their friends abandon'd foul and all:
A greater yet from heaven to hell defcends,
To fave, and make his enemies his friends.
What line of praise can fathom fuch a love,
Which reach'd the loweft bottom from above?
The Royal Prophet, that extended grace
From heaven to earth, meafur'd but half that
fpace.

The Law was regnant, and confin'd his thought;
Hell was not conquer'd when that Poet wrote:
Heaven was scarce heard of, until He came down
To make the region where love triumphs known.
That early love of creatures yet unmade,
To frame the world th' Almighty did perfuade;
For love it was that first created light,
Mov'd on the waters, chac'd away the night
From the rude chaos; and bestow'd new grace
On things difpos'd of to their proper place;
Some, to rest here; and fome, to fhine above:
Earth, fea, and heaven, were all th' effects of love.
And love would be return'd. But there was none
That to themselves or others yet were known:

* David.

CANTO III.

N He gives a pattern of eternal love;

TOT willing terror should his image mow,

His fon defcends, to treat a peace with thofe
Which were, and must have ever been, his fon
Poor he became, and left his glorious feat,
To make us humble, and to make us great:
His bufinefs here was happinefs to give
To thofe, whofe malice could not let him live.
Legions of Angels, which he might have us
(For us refolv'd to perish) he refus'd:
While they flood ready to prevent his lofs,
Love took him up, and nail'd him to the cros
Immortal love! which in his bowels reign'd,
That we might be by fuch great love contram
To make return of love: upon this Pole
Our duty does, and our religion, roll.
To love is to believe, to hope, to know;
'Tis an effay, a taste of heaven below!

He to proud potentates would not be known; Of thofe that lov'd him, he was hid from pane. Till love appear, we live in anxious doubt; But fmoke will vanifh when that flame breaks et This is the fire that would confume our drels, Refine, and make us richer by the lofs.

Could we forbear difpute, and practise love, We fhould agree, as Angels do above. Where love prefides, not vice alone does fini No'entrance there, but virtues ftay behind: Both Faith and Hope, and all the meaner train Of moral virtues, at the door remain.