The Poems of Edmund Waller Edited by G. Thorn Drury |
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OF THE INVASION AND DEFEAT OF THE TURKS, IN THE YEAR 1683. |
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 | The Poems of Edmund Waller |  |
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OF THE INVASION AND DEFEAT OF THE TURKS, IN THE YEAR 1683.
The modern Nimrod, with a safe delight
Pursuing beasts, that save themselves by flight,
Grown proud, and weary of his wonted game,
Would Christians chase, and sacrifice to fame.
Pursuing beasts, that save themselves by flight,
Grown proud, and weary of his wonted game,
Would Christians chase, and sacrifice to fame.
A prince with eunuchs and the softer sex
Shut up so long, would warlike nations vex,
Provoke the German, and, neglecting heaven,
Forget the truce for which his oath was given.
Shut up so long, would warlike nations vex,
Provoke the German, and, neglecting heaven,
Forget the truce for which his oath was given.
His Grand Vizier, presuming to invest
The chief imperial city of the west,
With the first charge compelled in haste to rise,
His treasure, tents, and cannon, left a prize;
The standard lost, and janizaries slain,
Render the hopes he gave his master vain.
The flying Turks, that bring these tidings home,
Renew the memory of his father's doom;
And his guard murmurs, that so often brings
Down from the throne their unsuccessful kings.
The chief imperial city of the west,
With the first charge compelled in haste to rise,
His treasure, tents, and cannon, left a prize;
The standard lost, and janizaries slain,
Render the hopes he gave his master vain.
The flying Turks, that bring these tidings home,
Renew the memory of his father's doom;
And his guard murmurs, that so often brings
Down from the throne their unsuccessful kings.
The trembling Sultan's forced to expiate
His own ill-conduct by another's fate.
The Grand Vizier, a tyrant, though a slave,
A fair example to his master gave;
He Bassa's head, to save his own, made fly,
And now, the Sultan to preserve, must die.
His own ill-conduct by another's fate.
The Grand Vizier, a tyrant, though a slave,
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He Bassa's head, to save his own, made fly,
And now, the Sultan to preserve, must die.
The fatal bowstring was not in his thought,
When, breaking truce, he so unjustly fought;
Made the world tremble with a numerous host,
And of undoubted victory did boast.
Strangled he lies! yet seems to cry aloud,
To warn the mighty, and instruct the proud,
That of the great, neglecting to be just,
Heaven in a moment makes an heap of dust.
When, breaking truce, he so unjustly fought;
Made the world tremble with a numerous host,
And of undoubted victory did boast.
Strangled he lies! yet seems to cry aloud,
To warn the mighty, and instruct the proud,
That of the great, neglecting to be just,
Heaven in a moment makes an heap of dust.
The Turks so low, why should the Christians lose
Such an advantage of their barbarous foes?
Neglect their present ruin to complete,
Before another Solyman they get?
Too late they would with shame, repenting, dread
That numerous herd, by such a lion led;
He Rhodes and Buda from the Christians tore,
Which timely union might again restore.
Such an advantage of their barbarous foes?
Neglect their present ruin to complete,
Before another Solyman they get?
Too late they would with shame, repenting, dread
That numerous herd, by such a lion led;
He Rhodes and Buda from the Christians tore,
Which timely union might again restore.
But, sparing Turks, as if with rage possessed,
The Christians perish, by themselves oppressed;
Cities and provinces so dearly won,
That the victorious people are undone!
The Christians perish, by themselves oppressed;
Cities and provinces so dearly won,
That the victorious people are undone!
What angel shall descend to reconcile
The Christian states, and end their guilty toil?
A prince more fit from heaven we cannot ask
Than Britain's king, for such a glorious task;
His dreadful navy, and his lovely mind,
Give him the fear and favour of mankind;
His warrant does the Christian faith defend;
On that relying, all their quarrels end.
The peace is signed, and Britain does obtain
What Rome had sought from her fierce sons in vain.
The Christian states, and end their guilty toil?
A prince more fit from heaven we cannot ask
Than Britain's king, for such a glorious task;
His dreadful navy, and his lovely mind,
Give him the fear and favour of mankind;
230
On that relying, all their quarrels end.
The peace is signed, and Britain does obtain
What Rome had sought from her fierce sons in vain.
In battles won Fortune a part doth claim,
And soldiers have their portion in the fame;
In this successful union we find
Only the triumph of a worthy mind.
'Tis all accomplished by his royal word,
Without unsheathing the destructive sword;
Without a tax upon his subjects laid,
Their peace disturbed, their plenty, or their trade.
And what can they to such a prince deny,
With whose desires the greatest kings comply?
And soldiers have their portion in the fame;
In this successful union we find
Only the triumph of a worthy mind.
'Tis all accomplished by his royal word,
Without unsheathing the destructive sword;
Without a tax upon his subjects laid,
Their peace disturbed, their plenty, or their trade.
And what can they to such a prince deny,
With whose desires the greatest kings comply?
The arts of peace are not to him unknown;
This happy way he marched into the throne;
And we owe more to heaven than to the sword,
The wished return of so benign a lord.
This happy way he marched into the throne;
And we owe more to heaven than to the sword,
The wished return of so benign a lord.
Charles! by old Greece with a new freedom graced,
Above her antique heroes shall be placed.
What Theseus did, or Theban Hercules,
Holds no compare with this victorious peace,
Which on the Turks shall greater honour gain,
Than all their giants and their monsters slain:
Those are bold tales, in fabulous ages told;
This glorious act the living do behold.
Above her antique heroes shall be placed.
What Theseus did, or Theban Hercules,
Holds no compare with this victorious peace,
Which on the Turks shall greater honour gain,
Than all their giants and their monsters slain:
Those are bold tales, in fabulous ages told;
This glorious act the living do behold.
| The Poems of Edmund Waller | |