University of Virginia Library

Such has been this Ill-Natur'd Nation's Fate,
Always to see their Friends and Foes too late;
By Native Pride, and want of Temper led,
Never to value Merit till 'tis Dead:
And then Immortal Monuments they raise,
And damn their former Follies by their Praise;
With just Reproaches rail at their own Vice,
And mourn for those they did before despise:
So they who Moses Government defi'd,
Sincerely sorrow'd for him when he Di'd.

And so when Britain's Genius fainting lay,
Summon'd by Death, which Monarchs must obey;
Trembling and Soul-less half the Nation stood,
Upbraided by their own Ingratitude.

They, who with true-born Honesty before,
Grudg'd him the Trophies he so justly wore,
Were, with his Fate, more than himself dismay'd,
Not for their King, but for themselves afraid.
He had their Rights and Liberties restor'd,
In Battel purchas'd, and by Peace secur'd:
And they with English Gratitude began
To feel the Favour, and despise the Man.
But when they saw that his Protection ceas'd,
And Death had their Deliverer possest;
How Thunderstruck they stood! What cries they rais'd!
They look'd like Men distracted and amaz'd;
Their Terror did their Conscious Guilt explain,
And wish'd their injur'd Prince Alive again.
They dream't of Halters, Gibbets, and of Jails,
French Armies, Popery, and Prince of Wales,
Descents, Invasions, Uproars in the State,
Mobs, Irish Massacres, and God knows what:
Imaginary Enemies appear'd,
And all they knew they Merited, they Fear'd.

'Tis strange that Pride and Envy should prevail,
To make Mens Sense as well as Vertue fail:
That where they must depend they should abuse,
And slight the Man they were afraid to lose.

But William had not govern'd Fourteen Year,
To be an unconcern'd Spectator here:
His Works, like Providence, were all Compleat,
Which made a Harmony we wonder'd at.
The Legislative Power he set Free,
And led them step by step to Liberty,
'Twas not his Fault if they cou'd not Agree.
Impartial Justice He protected so,
The Laws did in their Native Channels flow,
From whence our sure Establishment begun,
And William laid the first Foundation Stone,
On which the stately Fabrick soon appear'd;
How cou'd they sink when such a Pilot steer'd?
He taught them due Defences to prepare,
And make their future Peace their present care:
By him directed, wisely they decreed,
What Lines shou'd be expel'd, and what succeed;
That now he's Dead, there's nothing to be done,
But to take up the Scepter he laid down.

The Circle of this Order is so round,
So Regular as nothing can confound:
In Truth and Justice all the Lines commence,
And Reason is the vast Circumference:
William's the moving Centre of the Whole,
'T had else a Body been without a Soul:
Fenc'd with just Laws, impregnable it stands,
And will for ever last in honest Hands;
For Truth and Justice are th'Immortal Springs,
Give Life to Constitutions and to Kings:
In either Case, if one of these decay,
These can no more command than those obey.
Right is the only Fountain of Command,
The Rock on which Authority must stand.
And if Executive Power steps awry
On either hand, it splits on Tyranny.
Oppression is a Plague on Mankind sent,
T'infect the Vitals of a Government.
Convulsions follow, and such Vapours rise,
The Constitution suffocates and dies.
Law is the grand Specifick to restore,
And unobstructed, never fails to cure:
All other Remedies compar'd to that,
Are tampering and quacking with the State.
The Constitution's like a vast Machine,
That's full of curious Workmanship within:
Where tho the Parts unwieldy may appear,
It may be put in motion with a Hair.
The Wheels are Officers and Magistrates,
By which the whole Contrivance operates:
Laws are the Weights and Springs which make it move,
Wound up by Kings as Managers above;
And if they'r screw'd too high, or down too low,
The Movement goes too fast, or else too slow.
The Legislators are the Engineers,
Who when 'tis out of Order make Repairs:
The People are the Owners, 'twas for them
The first Inventer drew the antient Scheme.
'Tis for their Benefit it works, and they
The Charges of maintaining it defray:
And if their Governours unfaithful prove,
They, Engineers or Managers remove.
Unkind Contention sometimes there appears
Between the Managers and Engineers:
Such Strife is always to the Owners wrong,
And once it made the Work stand still too long;
Till William came, and loos'd the Fatal Chain,
And set the Engineers to work again:
And having made the wondrous thing compleat,
To Anne's unerring Hand he left the Helm of State.

Anne, like Elisha, when Just William went,
Receiv'd the Mantle of his Government:
And by Divine Concession does inherit
A Double Portion of his Ruling Spirit.
The Dying Hero, loaded with Renown,
Gave her the Nations Blessing with the Crown,
From God, the People, and the Laws her own:
Told her that he had Orders from on High,
To lay aside the Government and Dye:
What he had Fought for, gave her up in Peace,
And chear'd her Royal Heart with Prospect of Success.
While he, who Death in all its Shapes had seen,
With full Composure, quiet and serene,
Passive and undisorder'd at his Fate,
Quitted the English Throne without Regret.
No Conscious Guilt disturb'd his Royal Breast,
Calm as the Region of Eternal Rest:
Before his Life went out, his Heaven came in,
For all was bright without and clear within.
The blest Rewards did to his sight appear,
The Passage easie, and the Prospect near;
His parting Eye the gladsom Regions spy'd,
Just so, before his Dear Maria Dy'd.
His High concern for England he exprest,
England, the Darling of his Royal Breast:
The Transports of his parting Soul he spent,
Her dis-united Parties to lament;
His Wishes then supplied his want of Power,
And Pray'd for them, for whom he Fought before.

Speak Envy, if you can, inform us what
Cou'd this unthankful Nation murmur at?
But Discontent was always our Disease,
For English-men what Government can please?
We always had our Sons of Belial here,
Who knew no God nor Government to fear:
No wonder these dislik'd his Gentle Sway,
Unwilling Homage to his Scepter pay,
And only did for want of Power, obey.

Some soft excuse for them we might contrive,
Had he not been the Gentlest Prince Alive;
Had he not born with an exalted Mind
All that was disobliging and unkind.
Peaceful and Tender Thoughts his Mind possest,
And high Superior Love conceal'd the rest:
Our Discontents wou'd oft his Pity move,
But all his Anger was supprest by Love.
That Heaven-born Passion had subdu'd his Soul,
Possest the greatest part, and Rul'd the whole:
This made him strive his People to possess,
Which he had done, had he oblig'd them less.
He knew that Titles are but empty things,
And Hearts of Subjects are the Strength of Kings:
Justice and Kindness were his constant care,
He scorn'd to govern Mankind by their Fear.

Their Universal Love he strove to gain,
'Twas hard that we should make him strive in vain:
That he should here our English Humours find,
And we, whom he had sav'd, shou'd be unkind.
By all endearing stratagems he strove,
To draw us by the secret springs of Love:
And when he could not cure our Discontent,
It always was below him to Resent.
Nature was never seen in such excess,
All Fury when Abroad, at Home all Peace:
In War all Fire and Blood, in Peace enclin'd
To all that's Sweet and Gentle, Soft and Kind.
Ingratitude for this must needs commence
In want of Honesty, or want of Sense.

When Kings to Luxury and Ease resign'd,
Their Native Countries just Defence declin'd;
This High pretending Nation us'd to plead,
What they'd perform had they a King to lead;
What Wondrous Actions had by them been done,
When they had Martial Monarchs to lead on;
And if their Prince would but with France make War,
What Troops of English Heroes wou'd appear.

William the bottom of their Courage found,
False like themselves, mere emptiness and sound:
For call'd by Fate to fight for Christendom,
They sent their King abroad, and stay'd themselves at home;
Wisely declin'd the Hazards of the War,
To nourish Faction and Disorders here.
Wrapt in Luxurious plenty, they Debauch,
And load their Active Monarch with Reproach;
Backward in Deeds, but of their Censures free,
And slight the Actions which they dare not see.
At home they bravely teach him to Command,
And judg of what they are afraid to mend:
Against the Hand that saves them they exclaim,
And curse the Strangers, tho they fight for them.
Tho some who wou'd excuse the matter say,
They did not grudg their Service; but their Pay.
Where are the Royal Bands that now advance,
To spread his dreadful Banners into France?
Britannia's Noble Sons her Interest fly,
And Foreign Heroes must their place supply;
Much for the Fame of our Nobility.
Posterity will be asham'd to hear,
Great Britain's Monarch did in Arms appear,
And scarce an English Nobleman was there.
Our Ancestors had never conquer'd France,
(For Kingdoms seldom are subdu'd by Chance)
Had Talbot, Vere, and Montacute withheld
The Glory, for the Danger of the Field.
Had English Honesty been kept alive,
The antient English Glory would survive;
But Gallantry and Courage will decline,
Where Pride and all Confederate Vices join.
Had we kept up the fame of former Years,
Landen had been as Famous as Poictiers.
Ormond and Essex had not fought alone,
The only English Lords our Verse can own:
The only Peers of whom the World can say,
That they for Honour fought, and not for Pay.

A Regimented Few we had indeed,
Who serv'd for neither Pride nor Fame, but Bread:
Some Bully L---s, Protection P---s, and some
Went out because they dare not stay at Home.
Loaded with Noxious Vices they appear,
A scandal to the Nation and the War;
Heroes in Midnight scuffles with the Watch,
And Lewd enough an Army to Debauch.
Flesh'd with cold Murders, and from Justice fled,
Pursu'd by Blood in drunken Quarrels shed:
In vain they strive with Bravery to appear,
For where there's Guilt, there always will be Fear.
These are the Pillars of the English Fame,
Such Peers as History must blush to name.

When future Records to the World relate
Marsaglia's Field, and Gallant Schomberg's Fate:
W--- was Captive made, it was severe,
Fate took the Honest Man, and left the Peer.
The World owes Fame for Ages long before,
To the Great Stile of W--- which he bore:
But when we come the Branches to compare,
'Ts a Hero Ancestor, a Bully Heir:
The Vertues the Posterity forsake,
And all their Gallant Blood is dwindl'd to a Rake.
More might be said, but Satyr stay thy Rhimes,
And mix not his Misfortune with his Crimes:
We need not rake the Ashes of the Dead,
There's living Characters enough to read.

How cou'd this Nation ever think of Peace?
Or how look up to Heaven for Success?
While lawless Vice in Fleets and Camps appear'd,
And Oaths were louder than their Cannon heard:
No wonder English Israel has been said
Before the French Philistines Fleet t'ha' fled;
While T--- Embrac'd with Whores appear'd,
And Vice it self the Royal Navy Steer'd.

William oppos'd their Crimes with steddy hand,
By his Example first, and then Command;
Prompted the Laws their Vices to suppress,
For which no doubt the Guilty lov'd him less.

Ye Sons of Envy, Railers at the Times,
Be bold like English-Men and own your Crimes:
For shame put on no black, but let us see
Your Habits always, and your Tongues agree.
Envy ne'er blushes, Let it not be said,
You Hate him Living, and you Mourn him Dead:
No Sorrow show where you no Love profess,
There are no Hypocrites in Wickedness.
Great Bonfires make, and tell the World y' are glad
Y' have lost the greatest Blessing e'er you had.
So Mad-men sing in Nakedness and Chains,
For when the Sense is gone, the Song remains.
So Thankless Israel, when they were set free,
Reproach'd the Author of their Liberty,
And wish'd themselves in Egypt back again:
What Pity 'twas they wish'd, or wish'd in vain?

Stop Satyr, let Britannia now relate
Her William's Character, and her own Fate;
Let her to him a grateful Trophy raise,
She best can sigh his Loss that best could sing his Praise.