The Works of Hildebrand Jacob ... Containing Poems on Various Subjects, and Occasions; With the Fatal Constancy, a Tragedy; and Several Pieces in Prose. The Greatest Part Never Before Publish'd |
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Neptune's Remonstrance. |
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 | The Works of Hildebrand Jacob |  |
Neptune's Remonstrance.
Written in 1715.
'Twas calm, and Neptune on the Main
With Amphitrite, and his Train,
Thro' Britain's Channel took his Way;
Zephyr alone had Leave to play:
The Voice of Discord in his Isle
He heard, and stay'd his Car awhile.
With Amphitrite, and his Train,
Thro' Britain's Channel took his Way;
Zephyr alone had Leave to play:
8
He heard, and stay'd his Car awhile.
From Albion what strikes my Ear?
He cry'd, my favour'd Sons, I fear,
Your past Contentions are forgot,
Whilom so fatal, and so hot,
When Civil Rage the Sword display'd,
And Brother Brother's Wrath essay'd!
Does no sad Memory remain
Of bleeding Charles, and Naseby's Plain?
To Arms again your Trumpets sound,
As tho' ye trod on foreign Ground.
What Havock, Mars, do you prepare?
Why do ye rush, my Sons, to War?
Blind, stubborn Race, as tho' I meant,
When Britain, from yon Shoar I rent,
Of old, by this Earth-shaking Arm,
That ye alone your selves should harm!
With me my Kingdom ye divide,
And scourge remotest Nations Pride;
Where e'er my Billows I controul,
From Thule, to the Southern Pole,
Your dreaded Fleets unrival'd go,
Conquer, restore, destroy, bestow;
Join'd by your Ships the Indies meet,
And heap their Treasures at your Feet.
More cou'd I grant? rash Sons unite!
These Feuds your former Foes invite:
Wou'd ye your ancient Lords invoke,
And try once more the Norman Yoke?
Are ye so weary of your Ease?
Can Liberty so much displease?
Inslav'd, and conquer'd must ye be,
To learn in Chains ye once were free?
Shou'd ye raise Fifty Temples more,
Nay, to the Church her Lands restore,
What would avail these pious Deeds,
If Britain by her Children bleeds?
He cry'd, my favour'd Sons, I fear,
Your past Contentions are forgot,
Whilom so fatal, and so hot,
When Civil Rage the Sword display'd,
And Brother Brother's Wrath essay'd!
Does no sad Memory remain
Of bleeding Charles, and Naseby's Plain?
To Arms again your Trumpets sound,
As tho' ye trod on foreign Ground.
What Havock, Mars, do you prepare?
Why do ye rush, my Sons, to War?
Blind, stubborn Race, as tho' I meant,
When Britain, from yon Shoar I rent,
Of old, by this Earth-shaking Arm,
That ye alone your selves should harm!
With me my Kingdom ye divide,
And scourge remotest Nations Pride;
9
From Thule, to the Southern Pole,
Your dreaded Fleets unrival'd go,
Conquer, restore, destroy, bestow;
Join'd by your Ships the Indies meet,
And heap their Treasures at your Feet.
More cou'd I grant? rash Sons unite!
These Feuds your former Foes invite:
Wou'd ye your ancient Lords invoke,
And try once more the Norman Yoke?
Are ye so weary of your Ease?
Can Liberty so much displease?
Inslav'd, and conquer'd must ye be,
To learn in Chains ye once were free?
Shou'd ye raise Fifty Temples more,
Nay, to the Church her Lands restore,
What would avail these pious Deeds,
If Britain by her Children bleeds?
| The Works of Hildebrand Jacob | |