University of Virginia Library

A Congratulatory Poem to the Right Honourable Sir E. S. &c.

Tho Poets praise those most who need it least,
These by your Foes must all be Truths confest;
That Nature form'd you vigorous and strong,
And Strength of Nature makes you hold out long:
Who by her sage Dispensing Power obtain'd
More Wit and Sense, than your young Rival gain'd
From all the painful Labours of the Schools,
And made you early talk to Men, not Fools.
With Judgment still, not Heat, your Course you run,
To finish well that Race so well begun;
With equal Pace, and no ill-govern'd Heat,
And with no Pompous Patent, Vainly Great;
With Wealth and Honour, still despis'd, you're crown'd,
Yet want that still, with which you most abound:
Not that a Man knows more their proper use,
Or less those mighty Blessings does abuse.
You in your Merits most unkindly share
Much of that Fate your faithful Friends do here;
To whom the same regard, Great SIR, is shown,
You oft have met with when the Work was done.
In vain, in solid Sense and nervous Prose,
We pour'd our Forces on your Rhyming Foes;
Those made of late few Ministers of State,
Verse was more powerful, or importunate:
Verse made th'once humble Mouse a Rat, in haste,
And Verse made him, who made the House at last;
From Channel-Row he ne'er had cross'd the Main,
Nor from flat Rhenish else reach'd brisk Champaign:
Verse made his Pastoral Patron rise apace
With equal Merit, and with equal Grace;
With a more glorious Rod t'adorn his Hand,
Than the Caducean Mercury's Golden Wand.
Black Rods and White oft work most wondrous Things,
When given by Ruling Gods, or Regent Kings.
Verse the Fam'd Fleckno rais'd, the Muses Sport,
From drudging for the Stage, to drudg at Court;
And most deserv'dly crown'd him Laureat now,
Who Sternhold has outdone, and Hopkins too.
Verse like some Spell rais'd old King Arthur's Train,
Made his Round-Table Knights t'appear again,
And dub the Man, who more than Callibourn had slain.
By Verse mad Clito strove t'advance the Cause,
To rhyme away Religion, Kings, and Laws:
'Mongst these the bold Corinthian too might pass,
A Minor Poet of th'Inferior Class,
Who, not like Horace, rais'd his Monument of Brass.
This vast Success of Verse our Poets had,
Statesmen at Home, and Envoys all Abroad;
To which no Prose had parallel Success,
And makes us now accost you thus in Verse.
The best of Princes, who first made you Great,
Whom you best serv'd, and with him too the State,
Dismiss'd you coldly to a kind Retreat—
The following Reign confess'd your grave Advice
Was wanting, in so tender Case and nice,
Where Loyalty the Standard did display,
But wild Destruction charg'd in full Array.
Th' unwary Greeks their Errors thus confess,
And still consult Ulysses in Distress;
Thus oft their exil'd Patriots they recal,
And Aristides, when distress'd, their All:
Thus too their Grecian Prince to Ammon straight
Repair'd, for to resolve his doubtful Fate.
Nor could our Monarch thus perplext, advise
In Place more proper, or a Man more wise.
Near to that dangerous Sedgmore down he came,
For to consult an Oracle of Fame;
Where, had your sage Advice been wisely took,
No King had Subjects, Subjects King foorsook.
When to th'Extremes of Conscience, and of State,
The labouring Kingdom was reduc'd by Fate;
You took the wisest, or the happiest Way,
And with your Western Legions join'd Torbay:
For which the Knighted Bard extends your Fame,
And makes th'Old Britons to record your Name.
True to your Country still, true to the State,
[For who can question Truths we prov'd so late?]
All your Designs still honourably Good,
Th' Apostate Statesman, not the King withstood.
Thus spake your Self;—thus to the Conqueror spake,
And pleaded Freedom for Deliverance sake;
Freedom for England, Freedom for her Crown,
[That's most enslav'd, when most precarious grown]
This Service great! with the frank Speech was weigh'd,
And both with equal Courtesy repaid.
Your much lov'd ISCA truly made your own,
And you made Master of your Mistress Town;
Where freed from Cares of State, secur'd to sleep,
The Town's Palladium you might safely keep,
Till Warlike Caledon assum'd the Charge,
And set the confin'd Governour more at large.
Your great Effort of Courage next was shown,
[For bold was he who then dar'd serve the Crown]
The Royal Martyr owes his Thanks to you,
Th' Oblivion Act, the Regicide Ludlow too
His old Commission else had been renew'd,
And the Royal Signet seal'd to Royal Blood.
Nor did your English Spirit brighter shine,
In the Defence of England's Royal Line,
Than to your Country's Aid and Interest true,
[So much the Patriot rul'd the Courtier too]
It timely came to aid th'unequal Fight,
And help the injur'd Commons to their Right.
To such great Actions something more is due,
And somewhat more may be reserv'd for You
In a more glorious Reign, than hath been seen
Since bright ELIZA's Days, our English Queen:
Whilst ANNA, like ELIZA, Worth regards,
Only the Valiant, Wise and Good rewards;
With the like awful Grace adorns the Throne,
And makes her Subjects Happiness her own;
With the same Awe, with the like Love obey'd,
And a wise Senate to advise and aid:
Whilst England's Church and State triumphant stand,
And France and Spain dread her victorious Hand,
And ORMOND fills with terror Sea and Land.
Hard would it be to lose then ground at home,
From such good Seed to see th'Old Tares to come;
To see the curst Advice again revive,
And the worst Men again prefer'd and thrive;
See Old and Modern Whigs again prefer'd,
And poor Tom Double fairly hang'd or starv'd.