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 | Poems on Affairs of State |  |
XVIII.
Yea
Tunis, that old punick City, quakes,
And at great distance strong Alarum takes,
As tho the Roman Legions on their Shoar
Appear'd: The Turks are summon'd to restore
Our English Goods and Captives, but refuse,
And therefore must expect no other News
Than Cannon Peals, whilst he doth seize their Port,
And charge the Infidels up to their Fort.
Twelve stately Ships of War behold in Flames
Consuming are, whereby he quickly tames
Their Cham-like Spirit by his unconquer'd Power,
Whilst raging Fires the Vessels do devour.
And at great distance strong Alarum takes,
As tho the Roman Legions on their Shoar
Appear'd: The Turks are summon'd to restore
Our English Goods and Captives, but refuse,
And therefore must expect no other News
Than Cannon Peals, whilst he doth seize their Port,
And charge the Infidels up to their Fort.
Twelve stately Ships of War behold in Flames
Consuming are, whereby he quickly tames
Their Cham-like Spirit by his unconquer'd Power,
Whilst raging Fires the Vessels do devour.
The poor Mahometans do trembling fly
From their strong Holds to Mountains that were nigh;
Whence like so many Fiends of blackest hue,
(With scaring horrid Faces) they might view,
In those sulphureous fiery Streams below,
A new Gehenna, to their greater woe.
A Day so dark, the Ottomanian fear'd
A fall, and th'horned Moon in Blood appear'd,
That old Republick, and brave Virgin City,
Ne'er ravish'd yet by warlike Foe, tho pity
So Romanized; that Virago stout,
Which at Lepanto Fight the Turks did rout;
Fair Venice now with Shouts doth gratulate
The English African, who now in State
From his late Conquest saileth by their Shoar,
Where loudest Trumpets sound, where Cannons roar;
(Leading his ransom'd ones, the Christian Slaves,
From Turkish Yoke rescu'd as from their Graves)
As if Triumphant Cæsar were in Sight,
Returning now from the Pharsalian Fight.
From their strong Holds to Mountains that were nigh;
Whence like so many Fiends of blackest hue,
(With scaring horrid Faces) they might view,
In those sulphureous fiery Streams below,
A new Gehenna, to their greater woe.
A Day so dark, the Ottomanian fear'd
A fall, and th'horned Moon in Blood appear'd,
286
Ne'er ravish'd yet by warlike Foe, tho pity
So Romanized; that Virago stout,
Which at Lepanto Fight the Turks did rout;
Fair Venice now with Shouts doth gratulate
The English African, who now in State
From his late Conquest saileth by their Shoar,
Where loudest Trumpets sound, where Cannons roar;
(Leading his ransom'd ones, the Christian Slaves,
From Turkish Yoke rescu'd as from their Graves)
As if Triumphant Cæsar were in Sight,
Returning now from the Pharsalian Fight.
He leaving these poor Caitiffs to lament
This doleful Loss, for more Exploits is bent.
This doleful Loss, for more Exploits is bent.
| Poems on Affairs of State | |