 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
Upon his late Majesty's going to Sea, in June 1724.
Come, gentle Winds, and with propitious Gales,
Triumphant fill a mighty Monarch's Sails:
Swift and secure, Britannia's King convey
O'er the smooth Surface of a smiling Sea.
Weeping Religion, with a waving Hand,
Beckons our Sovereign to a distant Land;
Requires his Aid her Altars to restore;
Waft him, ye Winds, to the inviting Shore!
Triumphant fill a mighty Monarch's Sails:
Swift and secure, Britannia's King convey
O'er the smooth Surface of a smiling Sea.
Weeping Religion, with a waving Hand,
Beckons our Sovereign to a distant Land;
71
Waft him, ye Winds, to the inviting Shore!
Methinks, I see the royal Vessel glide
With happy Omens thro' the yielding Tide:
Round her gilt Sides a wanton Dolphin plays,
And boldly aims at Majesty to gaze.
While, from above, descending Angels spread
Their sacred Wings o'er his anointed Head.
Assembled Kings for his Arrival wait,
And Nations from his Mouth must meet their Fate.
Tremble, ye Poles, at your approaching Dooms,
Britannia's King, the Tyrant's Terror, comes:
Near and more near the rapid Vengeance draws,
For violated Faith and injur'd Laws.
Justice and Mercy warm his Royal Breast,
Foe to th' Oppressor, Friend to the Opprest.
With happy Omens thro' the yielding Tide:
Round her gilt Sides a wanton Dolphin plays,
And boldly aims at Majesty to gaze.
While, from above, descending Angels spread
Their sacred Wings o'er his anointed Head.
Assembled Kings for his Arrival wait,
And Nations from his Mouth must meet their Fate.
Tremble, ye Poles, at your approaching Dooms,
Britannia's King, the Tyrant's Terror, comes:
Near and more near the rapid Vengeance draws,
For violated Faith and injur'd Laws.
Justice and Mercy warm his Royal Breast,
Foe to th' Oppressor, Friend to the Opprest.
72
Ye widow'd Mourners, whose dear Kindred fell
A bloody Sacrifice to Romish Zeal;
Raise your declining Heads, and cease to grieve,
For what your own Augustus will not give,
Ye shall ere long from juster Pow'rs receive.
Britain's dread Lord and Prussia's awful King
Shall to your Aid united Succours bring.
Ignatius' plotting Sons, with Lips prophane,
Mary's dumb Image shall invoke in vain:
Each Statue fam'd for Miracles adore,
Roll o'er their Beads, and fansy'd Help implore.
From mere mechanick Forms, drest up for show,
From Mortals dead a thousand Years ago;
Deluded Fools! what Help can they bestow?
How small will be your courted Idols Aid,
When Force superior shall your Land invade?
To whose bright Arms your painted Gods must bow,
The weak Ador'd, and blind Adorers too.
A bloody Sacrifice to Romish Zeal;
Raise your declining Heads, and cease to grieve,
For what your own Augustus will not give,
Ye shall ere long from juster Pow'rs receive.
Britain's dread Lord and Prussia's awful King
Shall to your Aid united Succours bring.
Ignatius' plotting Sons, with Lips prophane,
Mary's dumb Image shall invoke in vain:
Each Statue fam'd for Miracles adore,
Roll o'er their Beads, and fansy'd Help implore.
From mere mechanick Forms, drest up for show,
From Mortals dead a thousand Years ago;
Deluded Fools! what Help can they bestow?
How small will be your courted Idols Aid,
When Force superior shall your Land invade?
73
The weak Ador'd, and blind Adorers too.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |