Poems and Songs :: :: University of Virginia Library

Now blush thy self into confusion,
Ridiculous Mortality!
With indignation to be trampled on
By them that court Eternity;
Whose Generous Deeds, and Prosperous State
Seem poorly set within the reach of Fate,
Whose every Trophy, and each Laurel wreath
Depends upon a little Breath;

Confin'd within the narrow bounds of Time,
And of uncertain Age,
With doubtful hazards they engage,
Thrown down, while victory bids them higher climb;
Their Glories are eclips'd by Death.
Hard circumstances of Illustrious Men
Whom Nature (like the Scythian Prince) detains
Within the Bodies chains.
(Nature, that rigorous Tamberlain.)
Stout Bajazet disdain'd the barbarous rage
Of that insulting Conquerour,
Bravely himself usurp'd his own expiring power,
By dashing out his Brains against his Iron Cage.

II.

But 'tis indecent to complain,
And wretched Mortals curse their Stars in vain,
In vain they waste their tears for them that die,
Themselves involv'd in the same destiny,

No more with sorrow let it then be said
The glorious Albemarle is dead.
Let what is said of Him triumphant be,
Words as gay, as is His Fame,
And as manly as his Name,
Words as ample as his Praise,
And as verdant as his Bays,
An Epinicion, not an Elegy.
Yet why should'st thou, ambitious Muse, believe
Thy gloomy Verse can any splendors give,
Or make him one small Moment longer live?
Nothing but what is vulgar thou canst say;
Or misbecoming numbers sing;
What Tribute to his memory canst thou pay,
Whose Vertue sav'd a Crown, and could oblige a King?

III.

Many a year distressed Albion lay
By her unnatural Off-spring torn,
Once the Worlds terrour, then its scorn,
At home a Prison, and abroad a Prey:
Her valiant Youth, her valiant Youth did kill,
And mutual bloud did spill;
Usurpers then, and many a Mushroom Peer
Within her Palaces did domineer;
There did the Vulture build his Nest,
There the Owls, and Satyrs rest,
By Zim and Ohim all possest;
'Till England's Angel Guardian, Thou,
With pity, and with anger mov'd
For Albion thy belov'd,
(Olive-Chaplets on thy brow)
With bloudless hands upheld'st her drooping head,
And with thy Trumpets call'st her from the dead.

Bright Phosphor to the rising Sun!
That Royal Lamp, by Thee did first appear
Usher'd into our happy Hemisphere;
O may it still shine bright and clear!
No Cloud, nor Night approach it, but a constant Noon!

IV.

Nor thus did thy undaunted Valour cease,
Or wither with unactive peace:
Scarce were our Civil broils allay'd,
While yet the wound of an intestine War
Had left a tender Scar,
When of our new Prosperities afraid,
Our jealous Neighbours fatal Arms prepare;
In floating Groves the Enemy drew near.
Loud did the Belgian Lion roar,
Upon our Coasts th' Armada did appear,
And boldly durst attempt our Native Shore,

Till his victorious Squadrons check'd their pride,
And did in Triumph o're the Ocean ride.
With thunder, lightning, and with clouds of smoke
He did their Insolence restrain,
And gave his dreadful Law to all the Main,
Whose surly Billows trembled when he spoke,
And put their willing necks under his Yoke.
This the stupendious Vanquisher has done,
Whose high Prerogative it was alone
To raise a ruin'd, and secure an envy'd Throne.

V.

Then angry Heav'n began to frown,
From Heav'n a dreadful Pestilence came down,
On every side did Lamentations rise;
Baleful sigh, and heavy groan,
All was plaint, and all was moan!
The pious Friend with trembling love,
Scarce had his latest kindness done,

In sealing up his dead Friends eyes,
E're with his own surprizing Fate he strove,
And wanted one to close his own.
Death's Iron Scepter bore the sway
O're our Imperial Golgotha;
Yet he with kind, though unconcerned eyes,
Durst stay and see those numerous Tragedies.
He in the field had seen Death's griefly shape,
Heard him in Volleys talk aloud,
Beheld his Grandeur in a glittering Croud,
And unamaz'd seen him in Cannons gape:
Ever unterrified his Valour stood
Like some tall Rock amidst a Sea of Bloud:
'Twas Loyalty from Sword and Pest kept him alive,
The safest Armour, and the best Preservative.

VI.

The flaming City next implor'd his Aid,
And seasonably pray'd
His force against the Fire, whose Arms the Seas obey'd;
Wide did th' impetuous torrent spread,
Then those goodly Fabricks fell,
Temples themselves promiscuously there
Drop'd down, and in the common ruine buried were,
The City turned into one Mongibel:
The haughty Tyrant shook his curled head,
His breath with vengeance black, his face with fury red.
Then every cheek grew wan and pale
Every heart did yield and fail:
Nought but thy Presence could its Power suppress,
Whose stronger light put out the less.
As London's noble Structures rise,
Together shall His Memory grow,
To whom that beautious Town so much does owe.

London! joynt Favourite with Him Thou wer't;
As both possess'd a room within one heart,
So now with thine indulgent Sovereign joyn,
Respect his great Friends ashes, for He wept o're Thine.

VII.

Thus did the Duke perform his mighty Stage,
Thus did that Atlas of our State,
With his Prodigious Acts amaze the Age,
While Worlds of wonders on his shoulders fate;
Full of Glories, and of Years,
He trod his shining, and immortal way,
Whilst Albion compass'd with new flouds of tears
Besought his longer stay.
Prophane that Pen, that dares describe thy bliss,
Or write thine Apotheosis!
Whom Heaven and thy Prince to pleasure prove,
Entrusted with their Armies and their Love.

In other Courts 'tis dangerous to deserve,
Thou didst a kind and grateful Master serve,
Who, to express his Gatitude to Thee,
Scorn'd those ill-natur'd arts of Policy.
Happy had Bellisarius bin
(Whose forward fortune was his sin)
By many Victories undone,
He had not liv'd neglected, dy'd obscure,
If for thy Prince those Battels he had won,
Thy Prince, magnificent above his Emperour.

VIII.

Among the Gods, those Gods that dy'd like Thee,
As great as theirs, and full of Majesty
Thy sacred Dust shall sleep secure,
Thy Monument as long as theirs endure:
There, free from Envy, Thou with them,
Shalt have thy share of Diadem;

Among their Badges shall be set
Thy Garter and thy Coronet;
Or (which is statelier) thou shalt have
A Mausolæum in thy Prince's breast,
There thine embalmed name shall rest,
That Sanctuary shall thee save,
From the dishonours of a Regal Grave:
And every wondrous History,
Read by incredulous Posterity,
That writes of him, shall honourably mention thee
Who by an humble Loyalty hast shown,
How much sublimer gallantry, and renown
'Tis to restore, than to usurp a Monarch's Crown.