 | Civitas Militaris |  |
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Civitas Militaris.
OR, A POEM ON THE City Royal Regiment OF HORSE.
The
Roman Gallantry long since retir'd,
Its City Valour in its Flames expir'd;
But London's Fame Immortal Glory bears,
Preserv'd from wasting Age, and Flames, and Wars;
Yet though we can a new built City show,
We had our Neroes, and damn'd Prætors too,
Who with the Tyrant Element Conspir'd,
And with resistless Rage our City Fir'd:
But as the Deluge did o'reflow the Earth,
Only to give a better World a Birth,
So from devouring Flames, once caus'd our fear,
New Houses, and bright Pyramids appear;
And Warlike Youths, for mighty Deeds arise,
Their Cities Glory, and their Nations Prize.
Its City Valour in its Flames expir'd;
But London's Fame Immortal Glory bears,
Preserv'd from wasting Age, and Flames, and Wars;
Yet though we can a new built City show,
We had our Neroes, and damn'd Prætors too,
Who with the Tyrant Element Conspir'd,
And with resistless Rage our City Fir'd:
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Only to give a better World a Birth,
So from devouring Flames, once caus'd our fear,
New Houses, and bright Pyramids appear;
And Warlike Youths, for mighty Deeds arise,
Their Cities Glory, and their Nations Prize.
Such, such are you, you Mighty Sons of Mars,
The Happy Omens of succeeding Wars!
In Bloody Fields, the surest Conquest falls,
Where Heroes March, and Kings are Generals.
No greater Patriot Mankind could Espouse;
Great is your Leader, and as good your Cause:
Tyrants have oft whole Provinces Subdu'd,
And in their Subjects Blood their Hands Imbru'd.
Our King does Regal Clemency impart;
A King that's after God's and's Peoples Heart.
Methinks I see him Landing on the Strand,
Lord of the Ocean first, and then of Land;
Fame runs before him like the Morning-Star,
And tells his Skill, and Mighty Feats in War:
The Mighty Nassaw shews his Goodness forth;
The Mighty Nations all Applaud his Worth:
The Nobler Citizens themselves present,
To Guard his Person, and his Government.
No Hireling Souldiers for their Countries good,
But freely spend their Treasure as their Blood;
Unlike the Gloomy Days we lately saw,
When Soveraign Will devourd the Peoples Law;
When Irish Teagues were by its Bounty fed,
Hir'd to Cut Throats, and Murder for their Bread.
Now a Serener Ray of Bliss appears,
After a Series of sad rowling years:
Our Prince shall be in Story much Renown'd,
Ands City Combatants with Lawrels Crown'd,
Whilst Youthful Blood and Vigour swell our Veins,
And Chivalry's the Theam of Nobler Pens;
Whilst in the Field the Martial Heroe walks,
Of Wars fierce God, and Blood and Slaughter talks;
Whilst Warlike Steeds beat with their Hoofs the Ground,
And Neigh and Prance, to the Shrill Trumpets sound;
In every Clime, where Heat and Cold do waste,
Our Mighty Warriours and their Fame shall last.
Our little London, on the Irish Coast,
Can Mighty Wonders, and Brave Actions boast?
There Warlike Baker a firm Bulwark stood,
Gainst French and Irish, an Augean Brood.
The Mighty Baker is in War Renown'd,
With deathless Wreaths, and lasting Lawrels Crown'd.
The Mighty Baker is the Muses Theam,
My daily Subject, and my nightly Dream;
Skill d in the Arts, that do to War belong,
Soft were his Passions, as his Hand was strong:
But cursed Fate! we paying Tribute, come
To his Immortal Worth, and to his Tomb!
Ah! Partial Destiny! Thou took'st the best;
Thou Lop'st the Heroe, and thou sav'st the Priest!
Baker obtain'd an Everlasting Name,
Walker was only Heir to his Fame.
The Happy Omens of succeeding Wars!
In Bloody Fields, the surest Conquest falls,
Where Heroes March, and Kings are Generals.
No greater Patriot Mankind could Espouse;
Great is your Leader, and as good your Cause:
Tyrants have oft whole Provinces Subdu'd,
And in their Subjects Blood their Hands Imbru'd.
Our King does Regal Clemency impart;
A King that's after God's and's Peoples Heart.
Methinks I see him Landing on the Strand,
Lord of the Ocean first, and then of Land;
Fame runs before him like the Morning-Star,
And tells his Skill, and Mighty Feats in War:
The Mighty Nassaw shews his Goodness forth;
The Mighty Nations all Applaud his Worth:
The Nobler Citizens themselves present,
To Guard his Person, and his Government.
No Hireling Souldiers for their Countries good,
But freely spend their Treasure as their Blood;
Unlike the Gloomy Days we lately saw,
When Soveraign Will devourd the Peoples Law;
When Irish Teagues were by its Bounty fed,
Hir'd to Cut Throats, and Murder for their Bread.
Now a Serener Ray of Bliss appears,
After a Series of sad rowling years:
Our Prince shall be in Story much Renown'd,
Ands City Combatants with Lawrels Crown'd,
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And Chivalry's the Theam of Nobler Pens;
Whilst in the Field the Martial Heroe walks,
Of Wars fierce God, and Blood and Slaughter talks;
Whilst Warlike Steeds beat with their Hoofs the Ground,
And Neigh and Prance, to the Shrill Trumpets sound;
In every Clime, where Heat and Cold do waste,
Our Mighty Warriours and their Fame shall last.
Our little London, on the Irish Coast,
Can Mighty Wonders, and Brave Actions boast?
There Warlike Baker a firm Bulwark stood,
Gainst French and Irish, an Augean Brood.
The Mighty Baker is in War Renown'd,
With deathless Wreaths, and lasting Lawrels Crown'd.
The Mighty Baker is the Muses Theam,
My daily Subject, and my nightly Dream;
Skill d in the Arts, that do to War belong,
Soft were his Passions, as his Hand was strong:
But cursed Fate! we paying Tribute, come
To his Immortal Worth, and to his Tomb!
Ah! Partial Destiny! Thou took'st the best;
Thou Lop'st the Heroe, and thou sav'st the Priest!
Baker obtain'd an Everlasting Name,
Walker was only Heir to his Fame.
If little London such great Trophies gains,
For greater London, what just praise remains?
In this good Soil, how many Warriours grow?
How many Glorious Bakers can we show?
Though loss of Charters might deject the mind,
Yet ev'n when Slaves, we could true Courage find;
And when a Papist had forsook the Throne,
We gave a Juster Monarch the lost Crown.
With Generous Rage, and Manly Virtue Arm'd,
With Kingly Goodness, and the Souldier Charm'd,
We sit securely underneath his Shade,
And prop the Righteous King our Hand have made.
For greater London, what just praise remains?
In this good Soil, how many Warriours grow?
How many Glorious Bakers can we show?
Though loss of Charters might deject the mind,
Yet ev'n when Slaves, we could true Courage find;
And when a Papist had forsook the Throne,
We gave a Juster Monarch the lost Crown.
With Generous Rage, and Manly Virtue Arm'd,
With Kingly Goodness, and the Souldier Charm'd,
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And prop the Righteous King our Hand have made.
Hail Happy Monarch! Leader in our Tears,
And Partner of our Joys, and of our Fears!
Lead on, we'll follow to the utmost bound,
Where Danger's seen, and Grizly Death is found;
Through Winters Frost, through driven Snow and Dirt,
Where Marching's tedious, and the days but short:
Where no Provision's found to chear our Swords,
But what the Hedges and the Brook affords.
Let Tories Snarle, and view the envied Crown,
You may dissolve their Malice in a frown;
And if the Gangrene should too far o'respread,
Bring down the Royal Thunder on their Head.
Our Trusty Swords are keen, prepared all
To Guard your Life, or to Revenge your fall,
On Rome's black Agents, the Egyptian Sots,
Their Poisnous Draughts, and Brandy-Bottle Plots.
He's Belzebubs own Child, who not content,
Does hate his King, and curse his Government:
In times large Chronicles, we cannot find
Men hated Kings for being good and kind,
But these disown the very Act they've done;
And who misled the Father, would the Son.
And Partner of our Joys, and of our Fears!
Lead on, we'll follow to the utmost bound,
Where Danger's seen, and Grizly Death is found;
Through Winters Frost, through driven Snow and Dirt,
Where Marching's tedious, and the days but short:
Where no Provision's found to chear our Swords,
But what the Hedges and the Brook affords.
Let Tories Snarle, and view the envied Crown,
You may dissolve their Malice in a frown;
And if the Gangrene should too far o'respread,
Bring down the Royal Thunder on their Head.
Our Trusty Swords are keen, prepared all
To Guard your Life, or to Revenge your fall,
On Rome's black Agents, the Egyptian Sots,
Their Poisnous Draughts, and Brandy-Bottle Plots.
He's Belzebubs own Child, who not content,
Does hate his King, and curse his Government:
In times large Chronicles, we cannot find
Men hated Kings for being good and kind,
But these disown the very Act they've done;
And who misled the Father, would the Son.
Unhappy James! Undone by Knaves and Beasts;
He never thriv'd was Influenc'd by Priests:
When thou with Foreign Troops so much wast scar'd,
How well their boasted Loyalty appear'd?
Tho by thy breach of Statute-Law they thriv'd,
And on the Ruine of their Country liv'd,
In times of Danger, left thee to the Rage
Of Injur'd Subjects, nothing could asswage;
From Ease, from Pleasure, and from Empire torn,
By all Deserted, and alone forlorn:
Unpitied by his Friends, does groveling lye,
The poor Remains of Tyrant Monarchy.
He never thriv'd was Influenc'd by Priests:
When thou with Foreign Troops so much wast scar'd,
How well their boasted Loyalty appear'd?
Tho by thy breach of Statute-Law they thriv'd,
And on the Ruine of their Country liv'd,
In times of Danger, left thee to the Rage
Of Injur'd Subjects, nothing could asswage;
From Ease, from Pleasure, and from Empire torn,
By all Deserted, and alone forlorn:
5
The poor Remains of Tyrant Monarchy.
Thus have I known a well-fed Race of Mice,
Within some Regal Dome keep Paradice,
Feed on the daintiest Cates, the Wheat and Pease,
Westphalia-Bacon, and fat Cheshire-Cheese,
But when they find the House begin to fall,
And spye the flaws, and view the tottering Wall,
By Natural Instinct, caution'd of their stay,
Forewarn'd in time, they wisely run away,
Mourning the Bread and Cheese they now must loose,
But more the Fate of the declining House.
Within some Regal Dome keep Paradice,
Feed on the daintiest Cates, the Wheat and Pease,
Westphalia-Bacon, and fat Cheshire-Cheese,
But when they find the House begin to fall,
And spye the flaws, and view the tottering Wall,
By Natural Instinct, caution'd of their stay,
Forewarn'd in time, they wisely run away,
Mourning the Bread and Cheese they now must loose,
But more the Fate of the declining House.
Our Prince a better Fate must sure attend,
Whom willing Subjects at their charge Defend;
Tyrants can't force a Regiment for the Wars,
Our King Commands large Troops of Voluntiers.
Such once our former Monarchs did attend,
And from Invading Foes the Land Defend:
Hail, Mighty Warriours! Heaven direct your Course,
Each Man a Knight, a Pegasus each Horse;
Sworn to Destroy the Holds of Hell and Rome,
For better Ages, and brave Times to come;
When Peace and Plenty shall surround our Shore,
And Defunct Tyrants shall be seen no more:
When Hells devouring Womb shall be quite fill'd,
With the fat Sacrifice your Swords have kill'd:
Then you returning from the Scenes of Wars,
Adorn'd with VVounds, and Beautify'd with Scars,
Shall by the numerous Crowd receive Applause,
And tender Virgins bless you as you pass:
The Ransom'd Nations shall Exalt your Praise,
Structures of Marble to your Fame shall raise.
Whom willing Subjects at their charge Defend;
Tyrants can't force a Regiment for the Wars,
Our King Commands large Troops of Voluntiers.
Such once our former Monarchs did attend,
And from Invading Foes the Land Defend:
Hail, Mighty Warriours! Heaven direct your Course,
Each Man a Knight, a Pegasus each Horse;
Sworn to Destroy the Holds of Hell and Rome,
For better Ages, and brave Times to come;
When Peace and Plenty shall surround our Shore,
And Defunct Tyrants shall be seen no more:
When Hells devouring Womb shall be quite fill'd,
With the fat Sacrifice your Swords have kill'd:
Then you returning from the Scenes of Wars,
Adorn'd with VVounds, and Beautify'd with Scars,
Shall by the numerous Crowd receive Applause,
And tender Virgins bless you as you pass:
The Ransom'd Nations shall Exalt your Praise,
Structures of Marble to your Fame shall raise.
FINIS.
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