Poems on Several Occasions With some Select Essays in Prose. In Two Volumes. By John Hughes; Adorn'd with Sculptures |
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 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
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THE House of Nassau.
A PINDARICK ODE.
------ Cœlo demittitur alto
Chara Deûm Soboles ------
Virg.
Chara Deûm Soboles ------
Virg.
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To His GRACE CHARLES DUKE of SOMERSET.
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I.
Goddess of Numbers, and of Thoughts sublime!Celestial Muse! whose tuneful Song
Can fix Heroick Acts, that glide along
Down the vast Sea of ever-wasting Time,
And all the gilded Images can stay,
Till Time's vast Sea it-self be roll'd away:
O now assist with consecrated Strains!
Let Art and Nature join to raise
A living Monument of Praise
O'er William's Great Remains.
While Thames, majestically sad, and slow,
Seems by that Reverend Dome to flow,
Which new-interr'd his Sacred Urn contains.
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This Song bequeaths thee Immortality;
For William's Praise can ne'er expire,
Tho' Nature's Self at last must die,
And all this fair-erected Sky
Must sink with Earth and Sea, and melt away in Fire.
II.
Begin—the Spring of Virtue trace,That, from afar-descending, flow'd
Thro' the rich Veins of all the Godlike Race,
And fair Renown on all the Godlike Race bestow'd!
This Antient Source of Noble Blood
Thro' thee, Germania, wand'ring wide,
Like thy own Rhine's enriching Tide,
In num'rous Branches long diffus'd its Flood.
Rhine, scarce more antient, never grac'd thee more,
Tho' mantling Vines his comely Head surround,
And all along his Sunny Shore
Eternal Plenty's found.
III.
From Heav'n it-self th'Illustrious Line began;Ten Ages in Descent it ran,
In each Descent increas'd with Honours new.
Never did Heav'ns Supreme inspire
In Mortal Breasts a Nobler Fire,
Nor his own Image livelier drew.
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And, as beneath his forming Hands they grew,
He bless'd the Master-work, and said;
‘Go forth, my honour'd Champions, Go,
‘To vindicate my Cause below!
‘Awful in Pow'r, defend for Me
‘Religion, Justice, Liberty,
‘And, at aspiring Tyranny,
‘My Delegated Thunder throw!
‘For this, the Great Nassovian Name I raise,
‘And still this Character Divine,
‘Distinguish'd thro' the Race shall shine,
Zeal for their Country's Good, and Thirst of virtuous Praise.
IV.
Now look, Britannia, look, and seeThro' the clear Glass of History,
From whom thy mighty Sov'reign came,
And take a large Review of far-extended Fame.
See, Crouds of Heroes rise to Sight!
ADOLPHUS , with Imperial Spendor gay:
Brave PHILIBERT, unmatch'd in Fight,
Who led the German Eagle to his Prey;
Thro' Lombardy he mark'd his conquer'd Way,
And made proud Rome and Naples own his unresisted Might.
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And on his Brows the Wreaths of Conquest wears,
Tho' streaming Wounds the martial Figure stain;
For Thee, Great Charles, in Battle slain,
Slain in all a Soldier's Pride,
He fell triumphant by thy side,
And falling fought, and fighting dy'd,
And lay, a manly Corpse, extended on the Plain.
V.
See next, Majestically Great,The Founder of the Belgick State!
The Sun of Glory, which so bright
Beam'd on all the Darling Line,
Did, from its golden Urn of Light,
On William's Head redoubled shine;
His Youthful Looks diffus'd an Awe.
Charles, who had try'd the Race before,
And knew great Merits to explore,
When He his rising Virtue saw,
He put in Friendship's Noble Claim;
To his Imperial Court the Heroe brought,
And there by early Honours sought
Alliance with his future Fame.
O generous Sympathy, that binds
In Chains unseen the bravest Minds!
O Love to worthy Deeds, in all great Souls the same!
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VI.
But Time at last brought forth th'amazing Day,When Charles, resolv'd to disengage
From Empire's Toils his weary Age,
Gave with each Hand a Crown away.
Phillip, his haughty Son, afraid
Of William's Virtues, basely chose
His Father's Favourite to depose;
His Tyrant Reign requir'd far other Aid;
And Alva's fiery Duke, his Scourge of Vengeance, rose;
With Flames of Inquisition rose from Hell,
Of Slaughter proud, and insolent in Blood.
What Hand can paint the Scenes of tragick Woes?
What Tongue, sad Belgia! can thy Story tell,
When with her lifted Ax proud Murder stood,
And thy brave Sons, in Crouds unnumber'd fell?
The Sun, with Horror of the Sight,
Withdraws his sickly Beams, and shrouds
His muffled Face in sullen Clouds,
And, on the Scaffolds, faintly sheds a pale malignant Light.
VII.
Thus Belgia's Liberty expiring lay,And almost gasp'd her gen'rous Life away,
Till ORANGE hears her moving Cries;
He hears, and, marching from afar,
Brings to her Aid the sprightly War.
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Of gather'd Strength, she on her Murd'rers flies.
But Heav'n, at first, resolv'd to try
By Proofs adverse his Constancy.
Four Armies lost, two Gallant Brothers slain,
Will he the desperate War maintain?
Tho' rolling Tempests darken all the Sky,
And thunder breaks around his Head,
Will he again the faithless Sea explore,
And, oft driv'n back, still quit the Shore?
He will—his Soul, averse to Dread,
Unweary'd, still the Spite of Fortune braves,
Superior, and Serene amidst the Stormy Waves.
VIII.
Such was the Man, so vast his Mind!The steady Instrument of Fate,
To fix the Basis of a rising State!
My Muse with Horror views the Scene behind,
And fain wou'd draw a Shade, and fain
Wou'd hide his destin'd End, nor tell
How He—the dreaded Foe of Spain,
More fear'd than Thousands on the Plain,
By the vile Hand of a bold Ruffian fell.
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And, in his room, behold arise,
Bright as th'immortal Twins that grace the Skies,
A Noble Pair, his Absence to retrieve!
In these the Heroe's Soul survives,
And WILLIAM doubly in his Offspring lives.
IX.
MAURICE, for Martial Greatness, farHis Father's Glorious Fame exceeds;
HENRY alone can match his Brother's Deeds;
Both were, like Scipio's Sons, the Thunderbolts of War.
None e'er, than Maurice, better knew,
Camps, Sieges, Battles to ordain;
None e'er, than Henry, fiercer did pursue
The flying Foe, or earlier Conquests gain.
For scarce Sixteen revolving Years he told,
When eager for the Fight, and bold,
Inflam'd by Glory's sprightly Charms,
His Brother brought him to the Field;
Taught his young Hand, the Truncheon well to wield,
And practis'd him betimes to Arms.
X.
Let Flandrian NEWPORT tell of Wonders wroughtBefore her Walls, that memorable Day,
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And matchless Valour did display!
How, ere the Battle join'd, they strove
With emulous Honour, and with mutual Love;
How Maurice, touch'd with tender Care
Of Henry's Safety, begg'd him to remove;
Henry refus'd, his blooming Youth to spare,
But with his much-lov'd Maurice vow'd to prove
Th'Extremes of War, and equal Dangers share.
O generous Strife! and worthy such a Pair!
How dear did Albert this Contention pay!
Witness the Floods of streaming Gore;
Witness the trampled Heaps, that choak'd the Plain,
And stop'd the Victors in their way;
Witness the neighb'ring Sea, and sandy Shore,
Drunk with the purple Life of twice three thousand slain!
XI.
Fortune, that on her Wheel capricious stands,And waves her painted Wings, Inconstant, Proud,
Hood-wink'd, and shaking from her Hands
Promiscuous Gifts among the Croud,
Restless of Place, and still prepar'd for Flight,
Was Constant here, and seem'd restor'd to Sight;
Won by their Merit, and resolv'd to bless
The happy Brothers with a long Success—
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The Youngest had a longer Date,
And liv'd the Space appointed to complete
The great Republick, rais'd so high before;
Finish'd by him, the stately Fabrick bore
Its lofty Top aspiring to the Sky:
In vain the Winds and Rains around it beat;
In vain below, the Waves tempestuous roar,
They dash themselves, and break, and backward fly,
Dispers'd and murm'ring at its Feet.
Insulting Spain the fruitless Strife gives o'er,
And claims Dominion there no more.
Then Henry, ripe for Immortality,
His Flight to Heav'n eternal springs,
And, o'er his quiet Grave, Peace spreads her downy Wings.
XII.
His Son, a second WILLIAM, fills his Place,And climbs to Manhood with so swift a Pace,
As if he knew, he had not long to stay:
Such young Marcellus was, the hopeful Grace
Of ancient Rome, but quickly snatch'd away.
BREDA beheld th'advent'rous Boy,
His tender Limbs in shining Armour dress'd.
Where, with his Father, the hot Siege he press'd.
His Father saw, with pleasing Joy,
His own reflected Worth, and youthful Charms express'd.
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His martial Virtues lay obscure;
Nor cou'd a Warrior, form'd for Arms,
Th'inglorious Rest endure;
But sicken'd soon, and sudden dy'd,
And left in Tears his pregnant Bride,
His Bride, the Daughter of Britannia's King;
Nor saw th'auspicious Pledge of Nuptial Love,
Which from that happy Marriage was to spring,
But with his Great Fore-fathers gain'd a blissful Seat above.
XIII.
Here pause, my Muse! and wind up higherThe Strings of thy Pindarick Lyre!
Then with bold Strains the lofty Song pursue;
And bid Britannia once again review
The numerous Worthies of the Line.
See, like Immortals, how they shine!
Each Life a History alone!
And last, to crown the great Design,
Look forward, and behold 'em all in One!
Look, but spare thy fruitless Tears—
'Tis thy own WILLIAM next appears.
Advance Celestial Form! Let Britain see
Th'accomplish'd Glory of thy Race in Thee!
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XIV.
So, when some splendid Triumph was to come,In long Procession thro' the Streets of Rome,
The Croud beheld, with vast Surprize,
The glittering Train in awful Order move,
To the bright Temple of Feretrian Jove;
And Trophies borne along, employ'd their dazzled Eyes:
But when the laurel'd Emperor, mounted high
Above the rest, appear'd to Sight,
In his proud Car of Victory,
Shining with Rays excessive bright,
He put the long preceding Pomp to Flight:
Their Wonder could no higher rise,
With Joy they throng his Chariot Wheels, and rend with Shouts the Skies.
XV.
To Thee, Great Prince! to thy extensive Mind,Not by thy Country's narrow Bounds confin'd,
The Fates an ample Scene afford;
And injur'd Nations claim the Succour of thy Sword.
No Respite to thy Toils is giv'n,
'Till thou ascend thy native Heav'n:
One Hydra-Head cut off, still more abound,
And Twins sprout up to fill the Wound.
So endless is the Task that Heroes find
To tame the Monster Vice, and to reform Mankind.
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And mighty Theseus, travell'd o'er
Vast Tracts of Sea and Land, and slew
Wild Beasts and Serpents gorg'd with Human Prey;
From stony Dens fierce lurking Robbers drew,
And bid the chearful Traveller pass on his peaceful Way.
Yet, tho' the toilsom Work they long pursue,
To rid the World's wild pathless Field,
Still pois'nous Weeds, and Thorns in Clusters grew,
And large unwholsom Crops did yield,
To exercise their Hands with Labours ever-new.
XVI.
Thou, like Alcides, early didst begin,And, e'en a Child didst Laurels win.
Two snaky Plagues around His Cradle twin'd,
Sent by the jealous Wife of Jove,
In speckled Wreaths of Death they strove,
The mighty Babe to bind:
And twisted Faction, in thy Infancy,
Darted her forky Tongue at Thee.
But, as Jove's Offspring slew his hissing Foes;
So thou, descended from a Line
Of Patriots no less Divine,
Didst quench the brutal Rage of those,
Who durst thy dawning Worth oppose.
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Its yellow Juice, and at thy Feet lay dead.
Thus, like the Sun, did thy great Genius rise,
With Clouds around his sacred Head,
Yet soon dispell'd the dropping Mists, and gilded all the Skies.
XVII.
Great JULIUS, who with gen'rous Envy view'dThe Statue of brave Philip's braver Son,
And wept to think, what such a Youth subdu'd,
While, more in Age, himself had yet so little done,
Had wept much more, if he had liv'd to see
The glorious Deeds atchiev'd by Thee;
To see thee, at a beardless Age,
Stand arm'd against th'Invader's Rage,
And bravely fighting for thy Country's Liberty;
While He inglorious Laurels sought,
And not to save his Country fought;
While He—O Stain upon the Greatest Name,
That e'er before was known to Fame!
When Rome, his awful Mother, did demand
The Sword from his unruly Hand,
The Sword she gave before,
Enrag'd, he spurn'd at her Command,
Hurl'd at her Breast the impious Steel, and bath'd it in her Gore.
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XVIII.
Far other Battles thou hast won,Thy Standard still the Publick Good;
Lavish of thine, to save thy People's Blood:
And when the hardy Task of War was done,
With what a mild well-temper'd Mind,
(A Mind unknown to Rome's ambitious Son,)
Thy pow'rful Armies were resign'd;
This Vict'ry o'er thyself was more,
Than all thy Conquests gain'd before:
'Twas more than Philip's Son cou'd do,
When for new Worlds the Madman cry'd;
Nor in his own wild Breast had spy'd
Tow'rs of Ambition, Hills of boundless Pride,
Too great for Armies to subdue.
XIX.
O savage Lust of Arbitrary Sway!Insatiate Fury, which in Man we find,
In barbarous Man, to prey upon his Kind,
And make the World, enslav'd, his vicious Will obey!
How has this Fiend AMBITION long defac'd
Heav'n's Works, and laid the fair Creation waste!
Ask silver Rhine, with springing Rushes crown'd,
As to the Sea his Waters flow,
Where are the numerous Cities now,
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Scarce are their silent Ruins found;
But, in th'ensuing Age,
Trampled into common Ground,
Will hide the horrid Monuments of Gaul's destroying Rage.
All Europe too had shar'd this wretched Fate,
And mourn'd her heavy Woes too late,
Had not Britannia's Chief withstood
The threaten'd Deluge, and repell'd,
To its forsaken Banks, th'unwilling Flood,
And in his Hand the Scales of balanc'd Kingdoms held.
Well was this mighty Trust repos'd in Thee,
Whose faithful Soul, from private Int'rests free,
(Int'rests, which vulgar Princes know,)
O'er all its Passions sat exalted high,
As Ten'riff's Top enjoys a purer Sky,
And sees the moving Clouds at distance fly below.
XX.
Whoe'er thy warlike Annals reads,Beholds reviv'd our valiant EDWARD's Deeds.
Great Edward and his Glorious Son
Will own themselves in Thee outdone,
Tho' Crecy's desperate Fight, eternal Honours won.
Tho' the Fifth HENRY too does claim
A shining Place among Britannia's Kings,
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Yet the loud Voice of Ever-living Fame,
Of Thee more numerous Triumphs sings.
But tho' no Chief contends with Thee,
In all the long Records of History,
Thy own great Deeds together strive,
Which shall the fairest Light derive,
On thy Immortal Memory;
Whether SENEFF's amazing Field,
To celebrated MONS shall yield;
Or both give place to more amazing BOYNE;
Or if NAMURE's well-cover'd Siege, must all the rest outshine!
XXI.
While in Hibernia's Fields, the labouring SwainShall pass the Plough o'er Skulls of Warriors slain,
And turn up Bones, and broken Spears,
Amaz'd, he'll shew his Fellows of the Plain,
The Relicks of victorious Years;
And tell, how swift thy Arms that Kingdom did regain.
Flandria, a longer Witness to thy Glory,
With Wonder too repeats thy Story;
How oft the Foes thy lifted Sword have seen
In the hot Battle, when it bled
At all its open Veins, and oft have fled,
As if their evil Genius thou hadst been:
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And with new Life restor'd the Year,
Confederate Princes us'd to cry;
‘Call Britain's King—the sprightly Trumpet sound,
‘And spread the joyful Summons round!
‘Call Britain's King, and Victory!
So when the Flow'r of Greece, to Battle led
In Beauty's Cause, just Vengeance swore,
Upon the foul Adult'rer's Head,
That from her Royal Lord the ravish'd Helen bore,
The Grecian Chiefs, of mighty Fame,
Impatient for the Son of Thetis wait;
At last the Son of Thetis came;
Troy shook her nodding Tow'rs, and mourn'd th'impending Fate.
XXII.
O sacred Peace! Goddess serene!Adorn'd with Robes of spotless White,
Fairer than silver Floods of Light!
How short has thy mild Empire been!
When pregnant Time brought forth this new-born Age,
At first we saw thee gently smile
On the young Birth, and thy sweet Voice awhile
Sung a soft Charm to martial Rage:
But soon the Lion wak'd again,
And stretch'd his opening Claws, and shook his grisly Main.
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And JANUS, ushering in a New,
With backward Look did pompous Scenes review;
But his Fore-Face with Frowns was overcast;
He saw the gath'ring Storms of War,
And bid his Priests aloud, his Iron Gates unbar.
XXIII.
But Heav'n its Heroe can no longer spare,To mix in our tumultuous Broils below;
Yet suffer'd his foreseeing Care,
Those Bolts of Vengeance to prepare,
Which other Hands shall throw;
That Glory to a mighty Queen remains,
To triumph o'er th'extinguish'd Foe;
She shall supply the Thunderer's Place;
As Pallas, from th'Ætherial Plains,
Warr'd on the Giants impious Race,
And laid their huge demolish'd Works, in smoky Ruins low.
Then ANNE's shall rival Great ELIZA's Reign;
And WILLIAM's Genius, with a grateful Smile,
Look down, and bless this happy Isle;
And Peace restor'd, shall wear her Olive Crown again.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |