An Heroick Poem upon the Late Expedition of His Majesty To Rescue England from Popery, Tyranny, and Arbitrary Government. By John Tutchin |
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 | An Heroick Poem upon the Late Expedition of His Majesty |  |
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AN HEROICK POEM Upon the Late EXPEDITION, &c.
When Heav'n a Godlike Hero does create,
By Nature Virtuous, and by Action Great,
Strait some Diviner Muse is called forth,
In Verse Immortal to declare his Worth.
Thus Antique Worthies in Destruction skill'd,
VVith their own Swords plough'd the Pharsalian Field;
Whilst softer Lucan sang in well-tun'd Lays,
The Victor's Triumphs, and the Hero's Praise.
Let old Renowned Bards of Honours tell,
How by their Swords the Mighty Thousands fell:
The Subject of my Younger Muse must be,
A Harmless War, and Bloodless Victory.
By Nature Virtuous, and by Action Great,
Strait some Diviner Muse is called forth,
In Verse Immortal to declare his Worth.
Thus Antique Worthies in Destruction skill'd,
VVith their own Swords plough'd the Pharsalian Field;
Whilst softer Lucan sang in well-tun'd Lays,
The Victor's Triumphs, and the Hero's Praise.
Let old Renowned Bards of Honours tell,
How by their Swords the Mighty Thousands fell:
The Subject of my Younger Muse must be,
A Harmless War, and Bloodless Victory.
I sing the gentle Man of War, to whom
Distressed Nations do with Tribute come.
The mighty Hercules, that must Suppress
The Tyrant Hydra of the Universe.
In War so happy, so Divinely good,
The Man of War's become the Man of God;
As Sacred Chronicles do oft declare,
The Man of God was stil'd the Man of War.
At home in Virtue, and in Fields Renown'd,
Yet Seas themselves cannot his Justice bound.
Some Provinces were his Paternal care,
Blest with their Jove in Peace, and Mars in War;
Whilst other Kingdoms more unblest than they,
To Savage Force and Rapine were a Prey.
Old England, that August and Beauteous Isle,
Made great by wholsome Laws, and fruitful Soil;
Felt such Tyrannick Force without Redress,
That turn'd her Eden to a Wilderness.
Curst with a Government had changed ill,
The Peoples Freedom, for the Prince's Will;
Had chang'd their Chappels and their Sacred Guests,
For Wooden Gods and far more Wooden Priests:
In Courts of Justice did as Judges sit,
Lawyers without Sence, and Statesmen without Wit.
Who taught the Law the Subject to devour,
Gave it no Saving, but destroying Power.
A Tyrant Yoak th' enslaved Subject bore,
Such as their Free forefathers never wore.
Distressed Nations do with Tribute come.
The mighty Hercules, that must Suppress
The Tyrant Hydra of the Universe.
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The Man of War's become the Man of God;
As Sacred Chronicles do oft declare,
The Man of God was stil'd the Man of War.
At home in Virtue, and in Fields Renown'd,
Yet Seas themselves cannot his Justice bound.
Some Provinces were his Paternal care,
Blest with their Jove in Peace, and Mars in War;
Whilst other Kingdoms more unblest than they,
To Savage Force and Rapine were a Prey.
Old England, that August and Beauteous Isle,
Made great by wholsome Laws, and fruitful Soil;
Felt such Tyrannick Force without Redress,
That turn'd her Eden to a Wilderness.
Curst with a Government had changed ill,
The Peoples Freedom, for the Prince's Will;
Had chang'd their Chappels and their Sacred Guests,
For Wooden Gods and far more Wooden Priests:
In Courts of Justice did as Judges sit,
Lawyers without Sence, and Statesmen without Wit.
Who taught the Law the Subject to devour,
Gave it no Saving, but destroying Power.
A Tyrant Yoak th' enslaved Subject bore,
Such as their Free forefathers never wore.
Hereat our Prince his Pious care exprest,
Whilst Gen'rous Indignation fill'd his Breast.
Religious Worthies hear the dread Alarm,
And in his Cause the Warlike Heroes arm:
Neptune gives Ships, and Mars does Troops create,
All Threat Destruction to the Tyrant State.
Nature her self does seemingly Espouse,
So Brave a Gen'ral, and so Good a Cause;
Propitiously to their Assistance brings,
A Large Right Gale to fill their Canvas Wings.
Here all the Ancient Stories are made good,
Where Tears of weeping Friends augment the Flood.
One curses Winds and Tides, that must Convey
Her Mars, her Husband, and her Guard away.
One Theseus to his Briny Fortress flies,
Whilst on the Shore his Ariadne lies:
Ere this, the Princess has the Story told,
Of Jason's Warlike Enterprize of old,
Prays for his good Success, her Loss bewails;
With Tears she fills her Eyes, with Sighs his Sails:
Mean while the Argonauts expand their wings,
Whilst Roar of Cannon their departure sings:
And then the Ocean's Mighty Force they try,
And Storms and Winds, a Potent Enemy.
Men-loving Dolphins now before 'em play,
From Threatning Storms no more secure than they.
A sure Presage of Boistrous Winds and Waves,
When the vex'd Deep in Mountains rowls and raves.
The Staggering Ships sustain the Watry Stroke,
Inform'd within by many an Heart of Oak;
Yet great Arion sings unto their Praise,
Tunes his Sweet Lute, and as they Dance, he Plays.
A Mighty Tempest rising from afar,
The Sea it self becomes the Seat of War.
Why, O ye Winds! do you such Roaring keep?
And why such Surges rowl upon the Deep?
You do a Great, a Royal Burden bear;
'Tis Cæsar, and our only Hope's your Care.
Are Storms the Omens of a Fatal Day?
Or are they Prologues to a Clearer Ray?
All must submit to the Decrees of Heaven,
That shows the way, and has Commission given.
Through Fields of Dangers Men to Kingdoms flye,
Toils are precedent still to Victory.
Whilst Gen'rous Indignation fill'd his Breast.
Religious Worthies hear the dread Alarm,
And in his Cause the Warlike Heroes arm:
Neptune gives Ships, and Mars does Troops create,
All Threat Destruction to the Tyrant State.
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So Brave a Gen'ral, and so Good a Cause;
Propitiously to their Assistance brings,
A Large Right Gale to fill their Canvas Wings.
Here all the Ancient Stories are made good,
Where Tears of weeping Friends augment the Flood.
One curses Winds and Tides, that must Convey
Her Mars, her Husband, and her Guard away.
One Theseus to his Briny Fortress flies,
Whilst on the Shore his Ariadne lies:
Ere this, the Princess has the Story told,
Of Jason's Warlike Enterprize of old,
Prays for his good Success, her Loss bewails;
With Tears she fills her Eyes, with Sighs his Sails:
Mean while the Argonauts expand their wings,
Whilst Roar of Cannon their departure sings:
And then the Ocean's Mighty Force they try,
And Storms and Winds, a Potent Enemy.
Men-loving Dolphins now before 'em play,
From Threatning Storms no more secure than they.
A sure Presage of Boistrous Winds and Waves,
When the vex'd Deep in Mountains rowls and raves.
The Staggering Ships sustain the Watry Stroke,
Inform'd within by many an Heart of Oak;
Yet great Arion sings unto their Praise,
Tunes his Sweet Lute, and as they Dance, he Plays.
A Mighty Tempest rising from afar,
The Sea it self becomes the Seat of War.
Why, O ye Winds! do you such Roaring keep?
And why such Surges rowl upon the Deep?
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'Tis Cæsar, and our only Hope's your Care.
Are Storms the Omens of a Fatal Day?
Or are they Prologues to a Clearer Ray?
All must submit to the Decrees of Heaven,
That shows the way, and has Commission given.
Through Fields of Dangers Men to Kingdoms flye,
Toils are precedent still to Victory.
Thus does some Hostile Muse his Hero paint,
Expos'd to Hardship, Penury, and Want;
Leads him through Desert Paths, the Place where stand
No Fruitful Trees, but Barren Heaps of Sand;
Where Prickly Furz, and Lonesome Fern does grow,
And piercing Tempests keeps the Grass still low;
No Eye has seen, or Human Foot has trod;
All Wild and Desart, since the Mighty Flood;
Where Frightful Thunders oft obstruct the Day,
While Raging Winds drive the Black Clouds away;
Where Savage Beasts their several Kinds devour,
The Small ones Tremble, as the Great ones Roar:
Does him ore steepy Hills and Mountains lead,
Makes Heav'n his Canopy, and Earth his Bed;
His Pillow some hard Clod, whilst all around,
His Active Warriours slumber on the Ground:
Hunger and Death do stare him in the Face,
And are the equal Terror of the place:
Yet after all his Toils, he does him Crown,
With Lasting Honour, and a great Renown.
A Brighter Day preceding Storms succeed,
And Garlands are the Victor's sacred Meed.
Expos'd to Hardship, Penury, and Want;
Leads him through Desert Paths, the Place where stand
No Fruitful Trees, but Barren Heaps of Sand;
Where Prickly Furz, and Lonesome Fern does grow,
And piercing Tempests keeps the Grass still low;
No Eye has seen, or Human Foot has trod;
All Wild and Desart, since the Mighty Flood;
Where Frightful Thunders oft obstruct the Day,
While Raging Winds drive the Black Clouds away;
Where Savage Beasts their several Kinds devour,
The Small ones Tremble, as the Great ones Roar:
Does him ore steepy Hills and Mountains lead,
Makes Heav'n his Canopy, and Earth his Bed;
His Pillow some hard Clod, whilst all around,
His Active Warriours slumber on the Ground:
Hunger and Death do stare him in the Face,
And are the equal Terror of the place:
Yet after all his Toils, he does him Crown,
With Lasting Honour, and a great Renown.
A Brighter Day preceding Storms succeed,
And Garlands are the Victor's sacred Meed.
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Much happier they that live in Camps at Ease,
Free from the Dangers of the Faithless Seas;
Whilst our Illustrious Hero through the Main,
Ploughs the Rough Waves with Danger, Toil and Pain:
The Giddy Fleet, drunk with the Briny Draught,
Hath other Methods, and new Councils taught;
'Tis deem'd enough through Seas thus far to come,
Are thoughtful now again of Reeling Home:
The Prince and Warriours both of Hope bereft,
Have nothing now, but Faith and Courage left:
Bravely resolve, but 'tis in vain, they find,
T' oppose the Warring Seas, and Fighting Wind:
A Tyrant Troop of Legicides they sought,
Such as Free Rome of old, Destroy'd and Fought:
Not Warring Elements, nor yet to prove,
The Bolts and Thunder of Almighty Jove.
They cry to Heaven the Ocean to appease,
And not commit them to Devouring Seas;
Heav'n hears their Pray'rs, and sends 'm Gentle Gales,
To sink their Cares, and fill their well-trimm'd Sails:
Now Lucky Halcyons brood upon the Deep,
The Seas are silent, and the Wind's asleep:
The wish'd for Shore's in view; and at Command,
The long Distressed Heroes Mount and Land.
Free from the Dangers of the Faithless Seas;
Whilst our Illustrious Hero through the Main,
Ploughs the Rough Waves with Danger, Toil and Pain:
The Giddy Fleet, drunk with the Briny Draught,
Hath other Methods, and new Councils taught;
'Tis deem'd enough through Seas thus far to come,
Are thoughtful now again of Reeling Home:
The Prince and Warriours both of Hope bereft,
Have nothing now, but Faith and Courage left:
Bravely resolve, but 'tis in vain, they find,
T' oppose the Warring Seas, and Fighting Wind:
A Tyrant Troop of Legicides they sought,
Such as Free Rome of old, Destroy'd and Fought:
Not Warring Elements, nor yet to prove,
The Bolts and Thunder of Almighty Jove.
They cry to Heaven the Ocean to appease,
And not commit them to Devouring Seas;
Heav'n hears their Pray'rs, and sends 'm Gentle Gales,
To sink their Cares, and fill their well-trimm'd Sails:
Now Lucky Halcyons brood upon the Deep,
The Seas are silent, and the Wind's asleep:
The wish'd for Shore's in view; and at Command,
The long Distressed Heroes Mount and Land.
Thus Moses once through many Toils did bring
A Vassal people from a Tyrant King;
At his and God's Command the Raging Flood,
Parted its Waters, and a Bulwark stood,
Whilst Israel's Seed trod the Imperial way,
Where lately Fish and Sea-born Monsters lay:
No sooner had they toucht the other Shore,
But the great Billows meet again, and Roar;
The Tyrant Pharoah, that did lately Rave,
And rode on's Subjects necks, now rode a Wave,
Which soon ore-turn'd his Tyranny and Pride;
The slaves had Freedom, when the Tyrant dy'd:
VVhen lo! the Ransom'd slaves orespread the Sand;
And at their Moses, and their God's Command,
They join in Thankful Notes, and Praises sing,
To their Deliverer, th' Eternal King.
A Vassal people from a Tyrant King;
At his and God's Command the Raging Flood,
Parted its Waters, and a Bulwark stood,
Whilst Israel's Seed trod the Imperial way,
Where lately Fish and Sea-born Monsters lay:
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But the great Billows meet again, and Roar;
The Tyrant Pharoah, that did lately Rave,
And rode on's Subjects necks, now rode a Wave,
Which soon ore-turn'd his Tyranny and Pride;
The slaves had Freedom, when the Tyrant dy'd:
VVhen lo! the Ransom'd slaves orespread the Sand;
And at their Moses, and their God's Command,
They join in Thankful Notes, and Praises sing,
To their Deliverer, th' Eternal King.
Thus sang our other Moses, and his Host,
VVho more God's Blessing, than their Conquest, boast.
Thus sings my Muse, the Man of War, that lands,
A Prey from Treacherous Seas, and Faithless Sands.
Ah wretched Albion, how untun'd, unstrung,
Have our lov'd Harps upon the Willows hung?
Our Charming Bards to Thames and Isis told,
Their Streams did flow like Babylon's of old:
No Poetry must pass, but serv'd the Cause,
Or some Suspending Ballad of the Laws.
Thrice Happy Albion; we, the Man of War,
His Godlike Virtues, and his VVorth declare.
Freedom (the much-lov'd Theme) our Lines adorn,
Of which our Fathers sang beneath the Morn.
VVho more God's Blessing, than their Conquest, boast.
Thus sings my Muse, the Man of War, that lands,
A Prey from Treacherous Seas, and Faithless Sands.
Ah wretched Albion, how untun'd, unstrung,
Have our lov'd Harps upon the Willows hung?
Our Charming Bards to Thames and Isis told,
Their Streams did flow like Babylon's of old:
No Poetry must pass, but serv'd the Cause,
Or some Suspending Ballad of the Laws.
Thrice Happy Albion; we, the Man of War,
His Godlike Virtues, and his VVorth declare.
Freedom (the much-lov'd Theme) our Lines adorn,
Of which our Fathers sang beneath the Morn.
He that has pass'd the Seas Tumultuous Rage,
VVhat greater Dangers has he to Engage?
A Listed Field of Arm'd and Martial Foes,
New formed Dangers, and new Terror shows;
VVho all in hopes of Foreign Aids, Combine
VVith Foreign Councils, and with Foreign Coin;
VVho of their great Alliance boast, and tell,
Of Rome's good VVishes, and Decrees of Hell.
The Bloody VVretch, the Bog-begotten Teague,
Is the weak Prop of the deep-laid Intrigue;
In solid Massacres and Murders read,
Through Treasons deep, and secret Poisons led:
Besides, some Listed Troops against the Laws,
The fittest Champions in so Damn'd a Cause.
But what can Teagues, and the Repealers do?
The Best are to their Nation's Int'rest true,
The Peoples Freedom, and the Subjects Right;
And can't against themselves and Countrey Fight.
VVhat greater Dangers has he to Engage?
A Listed Field of Arm'd and Martial Foes,
New formed Dangers, and new Terror shows;
VVho all in hopes of Foreign Aids, Combine
VVith Foreign Councils, and with Foreign Coin;
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Of Rome's good VVishes, and Decrees of Hell.
The Bloody VVretch, the Bog-begotten Teague,
Is the weak Prop of the deep-laid Intrigue;
In solid Massacres and Murders read,
Through Treasons deep, and secret Poisons led:
Besides, some Listed Troops against the Laws,
The fittest Champions in so Damn'd a Cause.
But what can Teagues, and the Repealers do?
The Best are to their Nation's Int'rest true,
The Peoples Freedom, and the Subjects Right;
And can't against themselves and Countrey Fight.
Here Juster Muse expand thy weary wing,
The Men of Honour and their Praises sing!
Great Beaumont, and the rest, whose Names of late,
Have got a Praise above the Reach of Fate;
VVho nobly could Resign, and so declar'd,
They had their Laws above their VVealth preferr'd:
VVhilst to the rest, they Great Examples stood,
VVho in the worst of Times dar'd to be Good.
The Men of Honour and their Praises sing!
Great Beaumont, and the rest, whose Names of late,
Have got a Praise above the Reach of Fate;
VVho nobly could Resign, and so declar'd,
They had their Laws above their VVealth preferr'd:
VVhilst to the rest, they Great Examples stood,
VVho in the worst of Times dar'd to be Good.
Our Nobles whilome Melancholly sate,
Nor durst they stop th' impetuous stream of State,
Tho the Foundation-Piles it overturn'd;
VVhilst the wrong'd Subject, like its waters mourn'd.
Their Native Rights they still exposed saw,
To Sovereign VVill, and Arbitrary Law.
Tho they could soon the Massy Fetters break,
It was not Prudence, nor yet Time to speak.
Nor durst they stop th' impetuous stream of State,
Tho the Foundation-Piles it overturn'd;
VVhilst the wrong'd Subject, like its waters mourn'd.
Their Native Rights they still exposed saw,
To Sovereign VVill, and Arbitrary Law.
Tho they could soon the Massy Fetters break,
It was not Prudence, nor yet Time to speak.
Thus does some yielding Maid her self betray,
And gives to some vile VVretch her Heart away;
Who by Deluding Words, and falser Charms,
Draws the mistaken Damsel to his Arms;
Where soon she finds, by a too late Surprize,
It was her Honour was his only Prize.
'Tis vain to struggle, hoping Succour's near;
She sooths and flatters the loath'd Ravisher,
When at the door she hears her Father tread,
Who strikes the bold and wanton Lecher dead.
And gives to some vile VVretch her Heart away;
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Draws the mistaken Damsel to his Arms;
Where soon she finds, by a too late Surprize,
It was her Honour was his only Prize.
'Tis vain to struggle, hoping Succour's near;
She sooths and flatters the loath'd Ravisher,
When at the door she hears her Father tread,
Who strikes the bold and wanton Lecher dead.
Thus forc'd by Impious Might, the Nations lay,
Nor durst they put the Tyrant-Bonds away;
Till mighty Nassau had his Weapons took,
And the new-raised Babel-building shook:
When strait a num'rous Crowd orespread the Sand,
To welcome their Deliverer on Land;
With joyful Shouts, the Stranger Army join;
Lord! how their Spears and Brittish Targets shine!
With such rough Boys Old England us'd to go,
To Fight, and to Destroy th' Invading Foe.
Anger did then, as Joy now, fill each Breast;
Ne're was Invading Army so Carest?
Nor durst they put the Tyrant-Bonds away;
Till mighty Nassau had his Weapons took,
And the new-raised Babel-building shook:
When strait a num'rous Crowd orespread the Sand,
To welcome their Deliverer on Land;
With joyful Shouts, the Stranger Army join;
Lord! how their Spears and Brittish Targets shine!
With such rough Boys Old England us'd to go,
To Fight, and to Destroy th' Invading Foe.
Anger did then, as Joy now, fill each Breast;
Ne're was Invading Army so Carest?
Brave Cornbury has more Honour got,
By a Surrender, than to've kill'd and fought;
And will more Glory in our Annals share,
Than Bloody Saints in Roman Kalendar.
Nor must our Noble Lovelace be forgot,
Who first oppos'd, and smelt the Ethnick Plot;
Who fearless of the Law-destroying Yoke,
First stopp'd the Fury of the Threatning Stroke;
Welcome, Great Soul, from durance to Command,
And all the Blessings of the Joyful Land:
May you in War, successful Fortune meet,
And humble Teagues lye prostrate at your Feet!
By a Surrender, than to've kill'd and fought;
And will more Glory in our Annals share,
Than Bloody Saints in Roman Kalendar.
Nor must our Noble Lovelace be forgot,
Who first oppos'd, and smelt the Ethnick Plot;
Who fearless of the Law-destroying Yoke,
First stopp'd the Fury of the Threatning Stroke;
Welcome, Great Soul, from durance to Command,
And all the Blessings of the Joyful Land:
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And humble Teagues lye prostrate at your Feet!
Nor be the rest unprais'd, but write their Name,
On the Chief Pinacle of Tow'ring Fame;
Which fears not Eating Age, nor Fatal Shock,
But like our Isle is built upon a Rock:
When after Ages shall our Stories read,
Then Fame shall tell what wondrous Works they did.
In equal Numbers then it shall be told,
How Macclesfield the Grave, the Wise, the Old,
Took War and Toils for an inglorious Ease,
To give the Kingdoms Liberty and Peace.
How Standing Troops did from their Leaders flye,
To save their Honour, or in Freedom dye:
How Rome's own Sword did Rome's own King subdue,
How e'en the Sea Tarpaulins proved True.
The Youths unborn, shall lasting Statues raise;
And late Harmonious Bards shall sing their Praise.
On the Chief Pinacle of Tow'ring Fame;
Which fears not Eating Age, nor Fatal Shock,
But like our Isle is built upon a Rock:
When after Ages shall our Stories read,
Then Fame shall tell what wondrous Works they did.
In equal Numbers then it shall be told,
How Macclesfield the Grave, the Wise, the Old,
Took War and Toils for an inglorious Ease,
To give the Kingdoms Liberty and Peace.
How Standing Troops did from their Leaders flye,
To save their Honour, or in Freedom dye:
How Rome's own Sword did Rome's own King subdue,
How e'en the Sea Tarpaulins proved True.
The Youths unborn, shall lasting Statues raise;
And late Harmonious Bards shall sing their Praise.
Now let our Mighty Nassau view the Land,
And subject Towns bending to his Command,
Conquer'd by Goodness, not o'recome by Might,
Nor dy'd by Native Blood in Martial Fight.
Indulgent Heav'n designed it should be,
An Easie, Cheap, and Bloodless Victory.
Tell it in Gath, and let the News be known,
In all the spacious Streets of Askalon:
Let Sion's Daughters in our Triumphs sing,
And to the Choire Immortal Stanzaes bring.
Our Old Men did not the Rough Ponyard feel,
Nor fell our Young Men by the Fatal Steel:
Our Conquest not one Scene of Death affords;
Nor were our Plough-shares turned into Swords.
And subject Towns bending to his Command,
Conquer'd by Goodness, not o'recome by Might,
Nor dy'd by Native Blood in Martial Fight.
Indulgent Heav'n designed it should be,
An Easie, Cheap, and Bloodless Victory.
Tell it in Gath, and let the News be known,
In all the spacious Streets of Askalon:
Let Sion's Daughters in our Triumphs sing,
And to the Choire Immortal Stanzaes bring.
Our Old Men did not the Rough Ponyard feel,
Nor fell our Young Men by the Fatal Steel:
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Nor were our Plough-shares turned into Swords.
Now is Augustus to Augusta come,
And Crouds of Joyful People shout him home:
The Joyful Sound fills Villages Remote,
And Neighb'ring Ecchoes lengthen ev'ry Note.
To the Great Standard all Mankind resort,
And make a Crowded, and a Splendid Court.
No grand Impiety does here bear sway,
Nor Lust and airy Pleasure crown the Day.
Rest here, Great Prince, in Honour and Renown,
Till willing people shall your Temples Crown,
VVith lasting Garlands, and yield to your Hand,
The Great and Awful Scepter of the Land.
And Crouds of Joyful People shout him home:
The Joyful Sound fills Villages Remote,
And Neighb'ring Ecchoes lengthen ev'ry Note.
To the Great Standard all Mankind resort,
And make a Crowded, and a Splendid Court.
No grand Impiety does here bear sway,
Nor Lust and airy Pleasure crown the Day.
Rest here, Great Prince, in Honour and Renown,
Till willing people shall your Temples Crown,
VVith lasting Garlands, and yield to your Hand,
The Great and Awful Scepter of the Land.
FINIS.
| An Heroick Poem upon the Late Expedition of His Majesty | |