University of Virginia Library

The Pious Queen, who Aid Divine implor'd,
Bless'd with Success, propitious Heav'n ador'd.
She did th'Almighty her Protector own,
The Guardian of her Life, and Bulwark of her Throne.
She prais'd her Saviour God, at whose right Hand
Obedient Vict'ry does for Orders stand,
And never flies without the high Command.
By his Direction she displays her Wings,
Imperial Crowns and envy'd Laurel brings
To mighty Heros, and to Fav'rite Kings.
When Hosts embattel'd in the Field engage,
And Warriors rous'd, discharge their Martial Rage,
Heav'n's Delegate with watchful Care attends
The happy Chief, whom Gracious Heav'n befriends.
Now kindly hov'ring o'er the General's Head
She does her Wings for his Protection spread.
Now she in Circles flying round the Air,
Marks out the Crown the Hero is to wear.
Sometime descending on his Head, does rest,
And with her own fair Plumes adorns his Crest.
At length she claps her bright Seraphick Wings,
Declares the Victor, and his Triumph Sings.

None than the Pious Queen did better know,
That Heav'n the Crowns and Laurels does bestow,
Which grace the Monarch's, or the Conqu'ror's Brow.
As she in secret her Deliverer own'd,
Who had Britannia's Arms with Conquest crown'd;
She did a Day of Sacred Thanks proclaim,
When all her Subjects might exalt his Name.
Might the Defender of the Realm adore,
Applaud his Goodness, and extol his Pow'r.
Might grateful Songs to Heav'n return, and raise
The Lord of Army's Name, with loud confed'rate Praise.

Pious Eliza on the Solemn Day
To Paul's Illustrious Temple took her way:
Clad in Imperial Robes, and dazling bright
With Gold and Gems, she pleas'd and griev'd the Sight.
High in her Chariot from her Palace Gate,
She pass'd with great Magnificence and State.
A noble Set of gen'rous Milk-white Steeds,
Such as Batavia's Nothern Region breeds,
With so much Pride the glorious Monarch drew,
As if they shar'd the Joy, and their high Station knew.

The Kings at Arms, who Honour's Court controul,
Emblazon Coats, and Pedegrees enrol:
Heralds and painted Pursevants, that wear
Distinguish'd Vests, and gilded Maces bear:
Trumpets and Drums, which Martial Breasts inflame,
Hautboys and Fifes th'advancing Pomp proclaim.
Trophies and Spoils, Marks of successful War,
Flags, Ensigns, Streamers trembling in the Air,
Were thro' the shouting Crowd in Triumph born,
Destin'd the Sacred Temple to adorn.
Angusta's Pretor, with a wealthy Train,
Adorn'd with Scarlet, and a Golden Chain;
Mounted on Steeds with splended Trappings grac'd,
And low depending Foot-cloaths richly lac'd;
Advanc'd to meet her at the City Gate,
Then turn'd, and march'd the foremost of her State.

Where most the Street dilates, the Pomp did march
Thro' a Triumphal, high erected Arch,
On which were pourtray'd by a Master Hand,
Eliza's Conquests won by Sea and Land.
Here noble Mottos, worthy of the Queen,
And rare Inscriptions were with Wonder seen;
Which did display her Princely Vertues, writ
By Men of Letters, and distinguish'd Wit:
(The Priors, and the Congreves of the Times,)
Some in sententious Prose, and some in Rimes.
There Britain's Queen, in a high Chair of State,
Awful, Serene, mildly Majestick sate.
On one side Justice with her Sword did stand,
Soft Mercy kneeling by, held the Stern Figure's Hand:
Wise Moderation one side did adorn,
And plump abundance, with her flow'ry Horn.
Vict'ry, descending thro' the yielding Skies,
(How charming was her Form, how bright her Heav'nly Eyes!)
Did in her Hand a Crown of Laurel bear,
And o'er Eliza's Head, hung hov'ring in the Air.
A snaky Hydra, late Europa's Dread,
Which at a thousand Necks divided bled,
In Gore and Blood extended lay beneath,
The monst'rous Form look'd terrible in Death.
Here thro' the Waves the vanqush'd Spaniard flew,
There Conqu'ring Drake in Thunder did pursue.
There Seas of Water mix with Seas of Blood,
And Crimson Billows reek amidst the Flood:
There half-burnt Ships which on the Ocean ride,
With ignominious Wreck deform the Tide.
Here great Oquendo sunk, still half in Air
The half-drown'd Masts and Rigging did appear.
From burning Diego there, th'aspiring Flame
To Heav'n advanc'd victorious Preston's Name.
A Squadron here ran on the Belgick Strand,
Some split on Rocks, some perish'd in the Sand.
There dreadful Wreck, Planks, Rigging, Masts, and Oars,
O'er-spread the Scotian, or th'Hiberian Shores.
On Bruga's Plain, there did great Mansfelt stand,
Here mighty Vere the Britons did command.
There did the Chief the vanquish'd Foe pursue,
And from his Terrors, there the Spaniard flew.

Princes and noble Lords, who in their Hand
Carry'd white Staves, Ensigns of high Command.
Victorious Chiefs, as well by Land as Sea,
Shar'd and encreas'd the Triumph of the Day.
Peers richly clad, high Officers of State,
And famous Gen'rals on the Queen did wait.
Those who in Courts of Judgment did preside,
And British Rights by ancient Rule decide,
The Moderator, whose superior Sway
Did make inferior Courts his Will obey,
Did to the true Intent the Letter draw,
And with soft Mercy temper'd rig'rous Law;
Clad in black Robes, did in long Order pass,
And with an awful Line the fam'd Procession grace.
Prelates and Metropolitans to pay
A just Regard to this auspicious Day,
To laud the Pow'r that did their Church sustain,
Heighten'd the Triumph with their reverend Train.

As the Victorious Monarch pass'd along,
On her Triumphant Wheels the Britons hung.
The eager Throng, which did her Chariot press,
Did by retarding it, the Pomp encrease.
Loud Acclamations to the Clouds did rise,
And propagate the Triumph thro' the Skies.
Thames heard the Joy, and with a speedy Stream,
Convey'd it to the Ocean, whence it came.
From every Quarter of the cheerful Town,
To see their Queen, the joyful Britons run.
The confluent Tides to a high Deluge grow,
And Waves of thronging Heads roll to and fro.
The gazing Clusters to the Windows clung,
And on the Roofs sublime, and Ridges hung:
Whence with luxurious Pomp they fed their Sight,
And with their greedy Looks devour'd Delight.
Their starting Eyes the Multitude did strain,
And from their eager Pleasure suffer Pain.
Medals of Gold and Silver, where she past,
Were midst the shouting Crowd profusely cast,
In which the Conquest by the Britons won,
Were in bold Work, and rare Devices shown.
With costly Ornaments the People grac'd
The stately Buildings, where the Triumph pass'd.
The noblest Velvets from Liguria brought,
Hangings in Arras, Silks in Persia wrought,
Scarlet and Tissues glorious to behold,
And Cloath of Silver richly flower'd with Gold,
Which to adorn the Fronts they did employ,
At once confess'd Augusta's Wealth, and Joy.

At length the Queen in this Triumphant State,
Midst Shouts of Joy, came to the Temple Gate:
Where soon as enter'd, on the Marble Floor,
Bending her Knees, she did her God adore.
With a loud Voice did praise propitious Heav'n,
Which to her Arms had glorious Conquest giv'n.
Had fought by Land and Sea on Albion's side,
And terribly rebuk'd Iberia's Pride.
The Queen ascended her high Throne, and sate
Above the Throng, beneath a Crimson State.
The spacious Dome with Sacred Anthems rung,
Set by rare Masters, by rare Voices sung.
The deep-mouth'd Organ with the Viol join'd,
Sweet Violins, soft Flutes, and every Kind
Of Vocal Wood and String, their Harmony combin'd.
The joyful Seraphs to the Frontier fly,
And on the Crystal Out-lines of the Sky,
The list'ning Choir of Heav'n stood stooping down,
To hear Terrestrial Praises, like their own.

Then Albion's famous Metropolitan,
A Prudent, Steady, Pious, Heav'nly Man,
Zealous for Truth, inflexibly upright,
From his high Seat display'd Cœlestial Light.
Thus the great Primate with his usual Force
Of Eloquence, began his Wise Discourse.

The awful Depths of Providence Divine,
Unfathomable by weak Reason's Line,
We with profound Submission should adore;
Should own the Justice of transcendent Pow'r,
Which the most piercing Wit can ne'er explore.
Short-sighted Man has lame, imperfect Views
Of Things which Wisdom infinite pursues.
Knows not to what the dark Proceedings tend,
Nor sees the Means connected with the End.
Benighted in this Sacred Wilderness,
And stopt by Heights unconscious of Access,
Astonish'd Reason chooses to decline
The awful Windings of the Maze Divine.
Th'inexplicable Springs of Empire rest
Deeply conceal'd within th'Almighty's Breast.
That deep Abyss its Secrets will contain,
And all our bold Researches will disdain,
Till the great Doom and Gen'ral Judgment Day
Shall the full Scheme of Providence display.
Then we shall see how every Branch and Line
Wisely contriv'd, advance the great Design,
And serve the glorious Ends of Government Divine.
Then Providence her Heav'nly Head will reer,
Dispel the Clouds which hang around her here,
And brighter than the Sun, in his full Height, appear.
We shall the Reasons of his Conduct know,
Which does confound, perplex, and pain us now.

Why happy Vice in Peace and Plenty reigns,
Whilst persecuted Goodness lies in Chains:
Why great Oppressors are so long allow'd
To waste Mankind, and glut themselves with Blood:
Why prosp'rous Pride and cruel Violence
With Empire crown'd, and bless'd with Wealth immense,
Should triumph midst Victorious Troops secure,
While Innocence is plagu'd, despis'd, and poor.
Why God neglects his suff'ring Servants Cries,
And sluggish Justice unawaken'd lies.
Why God-like Men with fruitless Moans complain,
And Heav'nly Vertue, Heav'n invokes in vain.
This Conduct which does so perplext appear,
So dark, and so inextricable here,
Will at the final Day be understood,
Will be extol'd as Wise, and Just, and Good.
Then in th'Almighty's Conduct we shall see
Beauty Divine, and perfect Harmony.

Things chiefly here in the same Order go,
As Rivers in their known frequented Channels flow.
Common Effects from common Causes spring,
And Nature runs her customary Ring.
The Strong subdue the Weak by usual Fate,
The Wise and Subtile Triumph in Debate.
Experienc'd Troops, th'Undisciplin'd defeat,
And in the Race, the Prize the Swiftest get.
But least Mankind to wrong Conceptions prone,
Should Heav'n's superior Will and Pow'r disown;
Should impious Thoughts unworthy God imbibe,
Should Providence dishonour, and ascribe
Private Events, and publick Turns of State
To a fixt Chain of Things, and necessary Fate:
He sometimes bids his Servant Nature take
A Path unknown, and her old Course forsake:
Bring forth Events by unexpected Ways,
Awe to produce, Astonishment to raise;
That God's controuling Will Mankind may fear,
Adore his Wisdom, and his Pow'r revere.
Nor does th'Almighty interpose his Pow'r,
Or interrupt the common Order more;
Nor in a more conspicuous manner bar
Nature's known Course, than in Events of War,
By which contending Realms their Cause to Heav'n refer.
The Lord of Hosts, who Persons ne'er respects,
His high Tribunal in the Field erects:
To which the Nations injur'd and oppress'd,
Make their Appeal, to have their Wrongs redress'd.
The Judge Supream does o'er their Arms preside,
Direct the War, and frequently decide,
Not for the strongest, but the justest Side.
He oft defeats vain-glorious Tyrants Hopes,
And great Oppressors in their Progress stops,
Who trust in famous Chiefs, and old Victorious Troops.
He disappoints the Counsels of the Wise,
Gives Vict'ry to the Weak, and to the Slow the Prize.

He lets ambitious Kings the World oppress,
Prolong their Reign, and gives their Arms Success.
Lets Scepter'd Spoilers Rapine long enjoy
Their Lust of Blood, and Thirst of Empire cloy:
While Heav'n its Vengeance close imprison'd keeps,
While Light'nings idle lie, and drousy Thunder sleeps.
Till pious Minds are anxious how to clear
The Providence Divine, which they revere.
At length his Wrath digested by delay,
Strengthen'd, sublim'd, and ripen'd by its Stay,
Th'Almighty from his oldest Phiol pours,
And on the Tyrant's Head amazing Vengeance show'rs.
Progressive Years will show the dreadful Day,
When Heav'n its Indignation will display:
Time, which will faithful and obedient be
To Heav'n's Commission, and Divine Decree,
Which is intrusted with the fatal Hour,
Will, tho' it halts, and lingers, bring it sure,
When the Almighty will in Arms appear,
And with his wrathful Sword, and fatal Spear,
Arrest th'Oppressor in his fierce Career.
He with a Frown abases haughty Pride,
And holds within its Banks Ambition's Tide.
But if its Inundation over-spreads
The Farms around, and drowns the neighb'ring Meads,
At his Rebuke back the proud Deluge goes,
And with its ancient Bounds contented flows.
Kings by a Series of Success secure,
And by their past, of future Triumph sure;
Who proudly to the Field in Arms advance,
As rais'd above the Reach of fickle Chance;
As Vict'ry dar'd attempt no other Flight,
And by Prescription Conquest was their Right;
These he assails, while they his Threats deride,
Pamper'd with long Success, and surfeited with Pride;
Giddy with Height, presumptuously secure,
Distracted with intoxicating Pow'r,
And for Destruction grown by num'rous Crimes mature.
He to the Dust the haughty Warrior dooms,
Pollutes his Laurels, and defiles his Plumes.
In Wrath th'Almighty thro' their Army goes,
Intimidates their Troops, and animates their Foes.
He of their Courage mighty Chiefs disarms,
And tim'rous Breasts with Martial Vigour warms.
Captains in Death experienc'd, easy grown
In Danger, and to every Terror known,
He can with Troops imaginary scare,
With arm'd Illusions, and offenceless War
Of fighting Meteors form'd, and Military Air.

Against our Foes th'Almighty War declar'd,
And his Cœlestial Equipage prepar'd.
He from his lofty Adamantine Tow'rs,
From his high Ars'nals, and eternal Stores,
Drew Arms Immortal, which the Sun out-shine,
Temper'd in deadly Flames of Wrath Divine,
Old Stocks of Vengeance, which digesting lay,
And Rage reserv'd for this Tremendous Day.
Girt with Almighty Strength, with Light array'd,
He from the Height of Heav'n his bloody Flag display'd.
His Conqu'ring Bow, and dreadful Quiver took,
And terribly his Spear th'Eternal Warrior shook.
He bow'd the Heav'ns, and from his bless'd Abode
Down the Ætherial Precipice he rode.
The starting Planets from his Presence flew,
Heav'n's Pillars trembled, and the Sun withdrew.
His dazling Chariot of Cœlestial Gold,
Drawn on by bridled Winds, and manag'd Tempests roll'd.
Thick Clouds and awful Darkness round him hung,
Loud Claps of Thunder thro' the Æther rung,
And dreadful Storms of Fire before him flew along.
As he descended in the lower Air,
Her Lord's dread Presence did all Nature scare.
To shun the Terrors of the fatal Day,
She at her Centre in Convulsions lay.
The Hills, their Consternation was so great,
Flew o'er the Vallies, and forgot their Weight.
The panting Mountains follow, struck with fear,
And with them in their Flight, the Beasts and Forrest bear.
The Rocks, some left their Shores, their old Abode,
And travell'd o'er the Land with all their Marble Load.
Some with the Terror melted where they stood,
Others shrunk down, and div'd beneath the Flood.
Rivers ran backward at th'Almighty's Sight,
And careless of their Duty, by their Flight
Did with protentous Tides the wond'ring Nations fright.
No less amaz'd, the Waters of the Deep
Did sink their Waves, and into Caverns creep,
Or trembling on the Shores did lie pretending Sleep.

Let us our great Deliverer's Love rehearse,
Whose Breath did o'er th'extended Deep disperse
Th'insulting Fleet, and formidable Host,
Who Conquest sung, before they saw our Coast.
His Terrors drove their Ships on fatal Strands,
Push'd them on Rocks, or fixt them in the Sands.
Many he gave into our Hands a Prey,
The rest on Shores unknown were cast away,
Or in Despair did on the Ocean stray.
Witness, O Belgia, thy destructive Coast,
What mighty Ships were midst thy Shallows lost?
Witness, ye Caledonian Rocks and Hills;
Ye congregated, wild Orcadian Isles!
What floating Shipwrecks did you then survey?
On all your Shores what scatter'd Ruin lay?
Ye Hyperborian and Hibernian Seas,
Ye Nothern Gulphs, and desart Hebudes,
The vast Destruction of our Foes declare,
For you are conscious of the fatal War.
Tell, how you saw th'amaz'd Iberians fly;
You view'd their Anguish, and you heard their Cry.
Tell, what Distress the vanquish'd Navy felt,
What deep Despair on their sad Faces dwelt,
When they Britannia's Conqu'ring Arms to shun,
Did to your Terrors, for Protection run.

As the Almighty on Britannia's Side
Engag'd by Sea, to humble Philip's Pride;
So has he bless'd victorious Vere by Land;
How well has he perform'd Eliza's high Command?
Bruga can tell how he distain'd her Plains
With a red Torrent from Iberian Veins:
How on the Field that dreadful glorious Day
Unnumber'd Heaps of slaughter'd Spaniards lay.
With what Confusion, and destracted Haste
O'er Belgia's Soil the routed Army pass'd.
Tidings from Bruga to the Sea were brought,
How the brave Vere commanded, how he fought.
How firmly in their Ranks the Britons stood,
How the Iberians flew, and how our Troops pursu'd.
The Ocean did the News from Land requite,
Telling the Wonders of the Naval Fight.

How is the great Oppressor's Pride abas'd?
How were his Troops, how were his Navy chas'd?
How is his Glory sunk? how are his Arms disgrac'd?
Ye Princes, who attend the Spoiler's Throne,
When first the News was to your Monarch known;
Say, what Distraction did his Soul surprize,
What Floods of Tears gush'd from his mournful Eyes?
Not long before he spoke these haughty Words;
I'll Prince of Princes be, and Lord of Lords.
The World shall own my universal Sway,
It serves one God, and shall one King obey.
Above the Heav'ns I'll sit with Glory crown'd,
And humble Seraphs shall my Throne surround.
I Kings by Turns will sink, by Turns create,
As they my Favour court, or move my Hate.
The scepter'd Slaves shall bow before my Throne,
And fly to serve me, when my Will is known;
Cheer'd if I smile, and troubled if I frown.
I my Divinity assert, and all
Shall prost'rate Vot'ries at my Altars fall,
And me their Soveraign Lord, and Saviour call.
Thus with Infernal Pride and Arrogance,
Th'elated Monarch did his Pow'r advance.

Yet thou, O Tyrant, from thy lofty Throne,
Shalt to the lowest Hell be trampled down;
Shalt to the silent Courts of Death descend;
And in the Tomb thy mould'ring Limbs extend.
That Space shall bound thy vast Ambition's Lust,
And mix thy Royal, with Ignoble Dust.
The Grave shall bid, for the great Tyrant's sake,
Her drousy, subterranean Guests awake,
And from their active Feet, their Leaden Fetters shake.
Princes and Monarchs, who have long possest
Their silent Beds in unmollested Rest,
Shall rise, and all their dark Apartments rend;
The Grave shall these illustrious Envoies send
To meet the great Oppressor in his way,
They, as commanded, to the King shall say,
Where are the Guards that waited at thy Gate?
Where are the Ensigns of Imperial State?
Where are the Laurels, which thy Temples crown'd?
Where the deep Crowd, which did thy Throne surround?
Are all thy Slaves and boasted Creatures lost?
Where are thy Navies and victorious Host?
Have all the mighty Chiefs their Monarch left?
Art thou of all thy Pomp and State bereft?
Where are thy envy'd Wisdom, Wealth, and Pow'r?
Did they forsake thee in the fatal Hour?
Where are thy Friends, who did such Zeal express?
Have they all left thee in thy last Distress?
Art thou obedient to Mortality?
Art thou as helpless and forlorn as we?
Good Heav'ns! how strange, how sad a Change is this!
A cold dark Grave ends all Terrestrial Bliss.
How wilt thou, mighty Prince, endure thy Fate?
The Grave affords no Robes, or Rooms of State.
We Dead do all Magnificence neglect,
Scepters and Crowns, as idle Toys, reject.
How will a proud Luxurious Monarch bear
Our dusty Lodgings, and our noisom Air?
O King! th'Apartment down to which you go,
Is lonely, strait, unlightsom, damp, and low.
How will you bear so hard, so sad a Doom
Which now consigns you to a narrow Tomb,
Who in the spacious World demanded Room?

Unthoughtful Princes, can your Host secure
Your guilty Heads from God's resistless Pow'r?
Should the Immortal Warrior from the Sky
Descend, and wave his Conqu'ring Sword on high;
Should he uplift his Adamantine Shield,
And arm'd with pointed Light'nings, take the Field;
Should his strong Hand shake his destructive Spear?
What Hero's Heart would not dissolve with Fear?
If Combate he demands, what Chief will dare
Step out, and undertake the dreadful War?
Who can his wrathful Terrors undergo?
Who can resist, or who elude the Blow?
Can mortal Man, whose animated Clay,
By its own Fire, does moulder and decay,
Who thro' his Nostrils breathes precarious Life away;
Can a vain Man sustain th'Almighty's Stroke?
Withstand his Rage, or face his angry Look?
Must not the Wretch at his dread Presence shake,
At which the shudd'ring Rocks and troubled Mountains quake?
He cannot stand against his God in Fight,
Nor scape pursuing Vengeance by his Flight.
For should the Wretch, wing'd with the Morning Ray,
Reach the grey Frontier of expiring Day;
Where from Incursions of encroaching Light,
High Mounds of ancient Shade protect the Realms of Night:
There his extended Arm would overtake,
And there the Fugitive his Captive make.
Should he descend, and for Protection, dwell
In the low Caves, and dark Abyss of Hell;
Nor Hell could show a solitary Room,
Nor all the Shades of Night afford a Gloom,
In which the guilty Fugitive might lie
Safely conceal'd from Heav'n's All-searching Eye.
Unsufferable Wrath, and fierce Despair,
Sadly confess th'Almighty's Presence there.
Give him the low Apartments of the Deep,
Where far from Day Primœval Waters sleep,
And unembroil'd with Storms, their peaceful Empire keep.
He could not fly that God, who does command
The Depths, who holds the Ocean in his Hand.
Should he on Seraphs Wings, convey his Fears
Thro' the blue Desarts and the trackless Spheres:
Should he to unfrequented Æther fly,
Behind some dusky, sinking Planet lie,
Or lurk in secret Corners of the Sky;
Th'Almighty, who enthron'd on high, surveys
Created Nature, which at once displays
Her various Worlds and Wonders to his Sight,
The Realms of Darkness, and the Fields of Light,
Will find the Sinner, and will make him know
He cannot from his Guilt, nor Guilt's Avenger go.
God oft a great Oppressor does permit
On his proud Throne in Majesty to sit.
Lets him abroad Victorious Armies send
O'er distant Realms, his Empire to extend.
Till he elated with his War's Success,
Does Lust of universal Sway express.
But tho' he long does this Oppressor spare,
Suppress his Anger, and his Stroke defer,
Almighty Patience will not always bear.
Tho' he afflicted Vertue long neglects,
The Pris'ner's Cries, and Martyr's Pray'r rejects;
Tho' his destructive Vengeance sleeping lies,
The God-like Suff'rer's Trust and Patience trys,
Yet 'twill awake at length, and terribly arise.
When Judah's slumbering Lion from his Rest
Is rous'd, to save th'Afflicted and Opprest,
How dreadful will his kindled Wrath appear?
Will he the proud and cruel Tyrant spare?
The wasted World shall see the happy Day,
When God will his Arrears of Justice pay.
Will make his Debt of threaten'd Ruin good,
And on the Oppressor's Head avenge the People's Blood.

Thus the Almighty in his Wrath arose,
Thus he rebuk'd our proud Iberian Foes,
Who had Europa's Kingdoms long oppress'd,
Whose Pow'r and Wealth so wastly was encreas'd,
That no fixt Bounds curb'd their encroaching Pride,
Till wrathful Heav'n chastis'd th'Ambitious Tide.
When their Presumption had our Land possess'd,
Heav'n from their rav'ning Jaws the Prey releass'd.
How did our God his mighty Arm extend?
Spain to controul, and Albion to defend?
How the Oppressor of the Nations sinks?
How deep, O Vengeance, of thy Cup he drinks?
How does his Courage and his Strength decline
By this destructive Draught of Wrath Divine?
Bitter as Gall it down his Throat descends,
Corrodes his Heart, with struggling Life contends,
And with Convulsive Throws his tortur'd Bowels rends.
How has th'Almighty, who our Battel led,
Discharg'd his Thunder on the Iberian's Head?
How terribly chastis'd the Son of Pride,
Who on the Strength of his own Arm rely'd?
How has he broke the roaring Lion's Jaws,
Dash'd out his Teeth, enervated his Paws?
How has he scatter'd o'er the Land or Main,
The Fleets and Armies of perfidious Spain?
Thus did the Lord of Hosts in Arms appear
To chase our Foes, and dissipate our Fear.
Let us exalt his Name in Songs of Praise,
To Heav'n our great Deliverer's Honour raise.
His Arms asserted Britain's Righteous Cause;
Let our Obedience to his Sacred Laws,
Our thankful Sense of Favours past attest,
Better by pious Deeds, than Words exprest.
Let Light Divine o'er all the Nation spread,
Let pure Religion raise her glorions Head,
In Vertue's Heav'nly Paths let grateful Britons tread.
To Albion thus new Blessings you'll procure,
And Heav'n's propitious Aid in future War secure.

Let your uncessant Pray'rs to Heav'n ascend,
That God would still our Pious Queen defend.
That he in Pity to Britannia's Isle,
To all the Nations of Europa's Soil,
At Liberty's and pure Religion's Pray'r,
Would make Eliza his peculiar Care.
A Queen, who thoughtless of her private Ease,
Has watch'd o'er Britain's Sons in War and Peace.
Who has no Interest, but her People's known,
Hast still esteem'd their Happiness her own.
Has God-like Pleasure truly understood,
Known what a Heav'n there is in doing Good.
She the Immense Leviathan has strook,
And in his cruel Nostrils fixt her Hook,
Who in the spacious Deep Tyrannick Pastime took.
Her Arms have curb'd the great Destroyer's Pow'r,
And left Britannia from her Rage secure.
As we are hers, may she be Seraphs Care,
Good God! a Life of such Importance spare,
And late upon her Head a Heav'nly Crown confer.

The pious Primate ceas'd. The tuneful Choir
With a new Anthem fed Devotion's Fire.
The Queen arose, and pass'd in Princely State
Thro' loud Applauses to her Palace Gate.

Augusta's Youth remaining Day employ,
In various Demonstrations of their Joy.
Some did in Crowds to the fam'd Fields repair,
Where Bethelem's Turrets rise amidst the Air.
Where learned Tyson's pow'rful Drugs remove
The Wild Effects of lawless Pride and Love.
Do the strong Influence of the Moon unbind,
Recall lost Reason, and restore the Mind.
Hither the Youth on this great Day resort
By various Passions led to various Sport.
Some in a num'rous Circle pour'd around,
Enclose, for wrestling Combatants, the Ground.
Who for their diff'rent Country's Fame contest,
Where now the North prevails, and now the West.
Loud Shouts of Joy alternately arise,
And raise th'unbloody Victor to the Skies.
Others step forth, and with a martial Air
Flourish their Staves, solliciting the War.
The nimble Youth now strike, and now defend,
And with redoubled Blows their Vigor spend.
Till Blood from either's wounded Head descends,
Which Crowns the Victor, and the Combate Ends.
Some active Youths their Name by Whorlbat raise,
They some for Leaping, some for Vaulting praise.
Others in Throngs fly to the Fields around,
And for their several Games chuse proper Ground.
Some fond of Conquest throw an Iron Wedge,
Some hurl huge Balls, some toss a Massy Sledge.
Some pond'rous Stones back o'er their Shoulders fling,
These Darts project, and those employ the Sling.
A Band of Archers here at Rovers shoot,
Another there wounds the high turfy Butt.
Some swift of Foot run Races o'er the Plain,
And eager of the Prize their Sinews strain.
Some pleas'd with Goff the Ball with Vigor strike,
These exercise the Colours, those the Pike.

When Evening came, they pass'd the cheerful Night
In various Scenes of Triumph and Delight.
The Limbs of Trees, the Hills and Forrest's Spoils
For Fires of Joy stand thick in lofty Piles.
The Woods, which lent their Oaks to quell the Foe,
Furnish Materials for the Triumph now.
Surrounding Youth set the high Piles on Fire,
To Heav'n their Shouts, to Heav'n the Flames aspire.
Long live the Queen, the joyful Britons cry,
Long live the Queen, the ecchoing Spheres reply.
Bright Lights in order plac'd each House adorn,
The Day recover, and prevent the Morn.
Harmonious Bells which high in Turrets hung,
Thro' all the Town in tuneful Changes rung.
The Conduits with Immense Profusion play'd,
And high in Air Red Jets of Wine convey'd.
The Crowd their ample Bowls with Nectar crown'd,
And Loyal Healths with loud Applause went round.

Before th'Imperial Palace tow'ring stood,
Rare Works of Fire encas'd in painted Wood.
Whence rival Glories did to Heav'n arise,
And Earth-born Thunder rung along the Skies.
The Heav'ns amaz'd with borrow'd Lustre shone,
With Lights and Meteors of a Race unknown,
With Forreign Stars, as thick and splendid as their own.
Such Noise, such Flames fill'd all the ambient Air,
The very Triumph seem'd another War,
And with the dreadful Joy did all the People scare.
Triumphant Laurels form'd of verdant Flame,
Advanc'd the Conqueror's and the Artist's Fame.
Nor did th'amaz'd Spectators less admire,
Th'Inscriptions writ in Characters of Fire.

Britannia's Monarch at th'approach of Night
Did to a Treat magnificent invite
All the great Lords that on her Court did wait,
Her own, and Forreign Ministers of State.
Strong Servants panting with the pond'rous Feast,
And with unweildy Luxury opprest,
Brought mighty Dishes of delicious Fare,
And on the groaning Tables plac'd the Cheer.
All Beasts, that Britain's fertile Pastures breed,
That range the Parks, or on the Mountains feed.
All kinds of curious Fish, that Pleasure take
In the swift Stream, or in the standing Lake;
Which in our own, or distant Nations dwell,
With Scales adorn'd, or fortify'd with Shell.
All sorts of wild, or tame Domestick Fowl,
Which finer Tasts as choice Delights enrol,
With all the feather'd Pleasures of the Sky,
Which by the Net, and by the Faulcon die;
All kinds of rare and more luxurious Meat
Which Albion yields, and Forreign Nations eat,
The Guests with unexampled Plenty treat.
All sorts of gen'rous and delicious Juice,
Which cheer the drooping Heart, and Mirth produce,
The happy Growth of fair Britannia's Isle,
Of Europe's neighb'ring Realms, or distant Asia's Soil,
Regal'd the cheerful Guests, who all exprest
Great Admiration of the splendid Feast.

And as their Taste was pleas'd with Wine and Cheer,
Consorts of Heav'nly Musick charm'd their Ear.
Yet all with more transporting Pleasure heard
Spencer the fam'd, unrival'd English Bard,
Who with a tuneful, and Seraphick Tongue,
Thus in a lofty Stile began his noble Song.

Angels and Arms he sung, Cœlestial Fight,
And dire Commotion in the Realms of Light.
He sung, how Satan with Ambition seiz'd,
In Heav'n uneasy, and in Bliss displeas'd,
With Lust of Independent Empire fir'd,
Against his Soveraign and his God conspir'd.
How he the Plan of his Rebellion laid,
Pretended Wrongs and Grievances display'd.
How he on Ruin set, in Mischief Wise,
Upbraided with inglorious Cowardise,
Seraphick Chiefs, who tamely did obey
Th'Almighty's hard Commands, and arbitrary Sway.
With his engaging Tongue, and subtile Art,
He of the Host seduc'd a mighty part,
Who flew to Arms, their Treason to assert.
He sung, how Satan on the fatal Day
Did his Battalions draw in bright Array,
Did on th'Ætherial Field unheard-of War display,
The Army, part the Azure Vally fills,
Part over-spread Heav'n's everlasting Hills.
The Rebel Host in Steel Immortal clad,
Advance th'Almighty's Empire to invade.

He sung, how God by this Affront inflam'd,
Hung out his wrathful Flag, and War thro' Heav'n proclaim'd.
How faithful Michael rows'd with these Alarms,
Renown'd for Conduct, and Superior Arms,
The Chief to whom supream Command was giv'n
O'er all the glorious Regiments of Heav'n,
Drew from the Crystal Ars'nals of the Sky
Immortal Cannon, dread Artillery.
How he his Spear presaging Ruin shook,
What wrathful Majesty possess'd his Look.
With what a Port and formidable Air
The Seraph Chief did to the Field repair.
How he his bright embattel'd Myriads led,
To charge proud Satan at his Army's Head.
How Nature trembled, what Concern it show'd,
While raging Seraphs rang'd in Battel stood.
Here valiant Michael did his Host dispose,
And Orders gave how to assail the Foes.
There haughty Satan ready to engage,
In threat'ning Frowns express'd Immortal Rage.

He sung, how first great Michael's Batt'ries plaid
From Heav'n's blue Hills, and vast Destruction made,
Chiefs heap'd on Chiefs, Cherub on Cherub laid.
How Satan shaking his distinguish'd Lance,
To be reveng'd, did to the Foe advance;
At Michael's Breast with his collected Strength,
Push'd his bright Spear of formidable Length.
Temper'd with Skill Divine th'Immortal Shield
Which Michael bore, could to no Weapon yield.
Satan enrag'd, repeats his Thrust in vain,
His Foes hard Arms all Hostile Force disdain,
Offenceless Seraphs feel no Wounds or Pain.
Then Michael couch'd his Adamantine Spear,
On Satan rush'd with such a fierce Career,
He threw him Headlong on the Heav'nly Ground,
And left within his Side a ghastly Wound.
A mighty Shout ran thro' the Loyal Host,
The flying Rebels yield the Battel lost.

He sung, how thro' the Desarts of the Sky
The vanquish'd Host did in Confusion fly.
How the victorious Seraphs did pursue,
What Storms of Fire, what Thunderbolts they threw,
What Darts, what Light'nings at the Rebels flew.
What Rout, what Ruin, what Angelick Spoil,
Did where they pass'd, th'Ætherial Plains defile.
With what a Rage the Conqu'ring Warriors chast
The Rebel Seraphs thro' the Azure waste.
Until they stop'd on Heav'n's impending Brow;
Seas all beneath of flaming Sulphur flow.
How the lost Traytors in Disorder stood
On the high Banks of this amazing Flood:
Till Michael in his high Cœlestial Car
Discharg'd new Vengeance, and reviv'd the War.
Who with his Terrors, and superior Might,
Push'd all their Squadrons from th'Ætherial Height
Into th'Infernal Lake, where all their Host
Plung'd deep in Flame remain for ever lost.

Then sung the Bard, how still with Rage possest,
Satan expell'd from Heav'n did Earth infest.
How meditating Ruin, Spoil, and Blood,
He fir'd with Wrath, pursu'd the Just and Good.
Did with malicious Vigilance employ
A thousand Arts, the Righteous to destroy.
Did War foment, and impious Kings engage,
To lay them waste with unrelenting Rage.
How Satan prompted Ægypt's King to chase
With deadly Fury Jacob's Sacred Race.
How haughty Pharo with a mighty Force,
Chariots of Iron and unnumber'd Horse,
The trembling Hebrews in their Flight o'er-took,
And thro' their Tribes amazing Terror strook.
When God the yielding Ocean did divide,
And roll'd in heaps the Waves on either side.
When stiff'ning Waters heard the high Command,
Did Craggy Rocks, and Crystal Mountains stand,
And left an open Space of dry and naked Land.
When Pharo's Host advanc'd into the Sea,
And dar'd attempt the horrid Defile.
At the Almighty's Nod the Waters felt
Their Chain was broken, and began to melt.
What fear did Pharo seize, when first he saw
The Crystal Rocks dissolve, the Mountains thaw!
The must'ring Waves did on th'Ægyptian bear,
And charg'd their troubled Host with liquid War.
In vain th'Ægyptians from the Terror fly,
In vain to senseless Gods for Safety cry.
The roaring Sea their flying Army stops,
And whelms its Billows o'er their sinking Troops:
Does o'er their Horse and Horsemen roll its Flood,
And makes its Waters quench their Thirst of Blood.
Chariots and Armor sunk beneath the Tide,
Which bury'd in its Caves perfidious Pharo's Pride

The wond'rous Bard proceeding chose to sing
The Wars of Deborah, and proud Caanan's King;
His Song advanc'd the wond'rous Woman's Name,
And next to hers, the mighty Barak's Fame:
Did in Sublime, Enthusiastick Verse,
Hers, and her valiant Gen'ral's Deeds rehearse:
The Wonders by their Arms near Kishon done,
What Valour there was shown, what Glory won.
How they, O Kishon, swell'd thy wond'ring Flood,
And drown'd the Fields around with Hostile Blood.
How Jabin's Troops flew from th'unequal Fight,
As Fear and Terror did direct their Flight.
How they to shun great Barak's Conqu'ring Sword,
Rashly, O Kishon, try'd thy Waves to Ford.
What Numbers on the Field of Battel dy'd,
What Numbers perish'd in the fatal Tide.