The origin of the Knights of the Bath a poem, Humbly Inscrib'd to His Royal Highness Prince William Augustus. By Laurence Eusden |
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 | The origin of the Knights of the Bath |  |
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THE ORIGIN OF THE KNIGHTS of the BATH.
Humbly Inscrib'd to His Royal Highness
PRINCE WILLIAM AUGUSTUS.
Hail glorious Off-spring of a glorious Race!
Britannia's other Hope, and blooming Grace!
Thou smil'st already on the burnish'd Shield,
And thy weak Hand the little Sword can wield:
Already, clad in Arms, Thou mov'st along,
The Love, and Wonder of each ravish'd Throng!
A-while vouchsafe, young Hero, to retire
'Mid' Streams, and Grottos, and th'Aonian Choir:
Apollo, God of Fore-sight, who with Ease
Thy distant, ripen'd Years, as present, sees,
Bids all the Muses Thee receive with Pride,
To all the Muses by all Arts ally'd.
Britannia's other Hope, and blooming Grace!
Thou smil'st already on the burnish'd Shield,
And thy weak Hand the little Sword can wield:
Already, clad in Arms, Thou mov'st along,
The Love, and Wonder of each ravish'd Throng!
A-while vouchsafe, young Hero, to retire
'Mid' Streams, and Grottos, and th'Aonian Choir:
Apollo, God of Fore-sight, who with Ease
Thy distant, ripen'd Years, as present, sees,
Bids all the Muses Thee receive with Pride,
To all the Muses by all Arts ally'd.
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Let future Bards describe in sounding Strains
Thy laurel'd Triumphs from deep-crimson'd Plains;
Enough for Me the Dawning to display,
That glows, the Promise of so bright a Day:
Enough to view, transported with the Sight,
The Royal Warrior-Boy, Bath's foremost Knight.
Thy laurel'd Triumphs from deep-crimson'd Plains;
Enough for Me the Dawning to display,
That glows, the Promise of so bright a Day:
Enough to view, transported with the Sight,
The Royal Warrior-Boy, Bath's foremost Knight.
The Learn'd in antique Rites have labour'd long
To trace an Æra, whence this Honour sprung.
They still Re-searches make with fruitless Pain,
As Nile's high Fount of old was sought in vain.
Let their own Arts the Muses then avail,
Daughters of Memory can tell the Tale,
Where Selden, Dugdale, Ashmole, Anstis fail.
To trace an Æra, whence this Honour sprung.
They still Re-searches make with fruitless Pain,
As Nile's high Fount of old was sought in vain.
Let their own Arts the Muses then avail,
Daughters of Memory can tell the Tale,
Where Selden, Dugdale, Ashmole, Anstis fail.
Not Volusenus a Descent could boast;
He only view'd a-far Britannia's Coast:
But Cæsar came, with mad Ambition fir'd,
Yet Cæsar, not too gloriously, retir'd:
With our brave Ancestors but ill He far'd,
And Storms destroy'd those Ships, the Battle spar'd.
Still He, whose Soul could Fortune's Frown disdain,
The Spring returning, bold return'd again;
True to Herself, she now a Smile bestow'd,
His Troops were landed, and his Navy rode.
He only view'd a-far Britannia's Coast:
But Cæsar came, with mad Ambition fir'd,
Yet Cæsar, not too gloriously, retir'd:
With our brave Ancestors but ill He far'd,
And Storms destroy'd those Ships, the Battle spar'd.
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The Spring returning, bold return'd again;
True to Herself, she now a Smile bestow'd,
His Troops were landed, and his Navy rode.
'Twas Night, yet sleepless the great Roman lay,
When sudden 'round Him shot a Blaze of Day,
And to his wondering Eyes, un-doubted, shone
The Queen of Beauty, by her Beauty known.
Six silver Swans her golden Charriot drew,
Her Mantle ruby, and her Vesture blue.
Quick from her Eyes bright Emanations broke,
Then with the Voice of Harmony she spoke.
When sudden 'round Him shot a Blaze of Day,
And to his wondering Eyes, un-doubted, shone
The Queen of Beauty, by her Beauty known.
Six silver Swans her golden Charriot drew,
Her Mantle ruby, and her Vesture blue.
Quick from her Eyes bright Emanations broke,
Then with the Voice of Harmony she spoke.
“O Heroe, worthy of my heavenly Line!
“In Thee how fair th'Ænëan Virtues shine!
“But whence for Albion's Conquest such a Flame?
“Whence this fond Thirst of an unhappy Fame?
“Alas! Thou know'st not, what Thou would'st destroy,
“But, Trojan-sprung, would'st burn a second Troy!
“With Marks of Ruin a fair Land deface,
“And half-extinguish thy own native Race!
“Learn, Cæsar!—Brute, thy Blood, these Regions sought;
“His Laws, his Subjects, and his Gods he brought:
“Here, Neptune seconding his great Design,
“An Ilium rose, once more, by Hands divine.
“How thy first Navy perish'd, hence is plain;
“Still dread another Tempest on the Main.
“Invasions on their Rights the God displease,
“Whose Sons, in rouling Ages, He decrees
“His delegated Rulers of the Seas.
“In Thee how fair th'Ænëan Virtues shine!
“But whence for Albion's Conquest such a Flame?
“Whence this fond Thirst of an unhappy Fame?
“Alas! Thou know'st not, what Thou would'st destroy,
“But, Trojan-sprung, would'st burn a second Troy!
“With Marks of Ruin a fair Land deface,
“And half-extinguish thy own native Race!
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“His Laws, his Subjects, and his Gods he brought:
“Here, Neptune seconding his great Design,
“An Ilium rose, once more, by Hands divine.
“How thy first Navy perish'd, hence is plain;
“Still dread another Tempest on the Main.
“Invasions on their Rights the God displease,
“Whose Sons, in rouling Ages, He decrees
“His delegated Rulers of the Seas.
She paus'd:—the mighty Victor, startl'd, cry'd,
“Bright Author of my Stemm! be Thou my Guide:
“Shall now my eager Legions back be led,
“And Rome with Blushes hear, that Cæsar fled?
“Bright Author of my Stemm! be Thou my Guide:
“Shall now my eager Legions back be led,
“And Rome with Blushes hear, that Cæsar fled?
“Undaunted Chief! the Goddess made Reply,
“Conquest pursue!—Thee Fate forbids to fly:
“But Conquest won,—Oh! the dire Use forbear,
“And teach the unrelenting Sword to spare!
“Thy Veterans, blind to Wounds, and deaf to Cries,
“Forget, that Nature lent them Ears, or Eyes.
“Yet I one Veteran, greatly good, must name,
“And strive the generous Act to pay with Fame.
“Conquest pursue!—Thee Fate forbids to fly:
“But Conquest won,—Oh! the dire Use forbear,
“And teach the unrelenting Sword to spare!
“Thy Veterans, blind to Wounds, and deaf to Cries,
“Forget, that Nature lent them Ears, or Eyes.
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“And strive the generous Act to pay with Fame.
“Near thy Pavilion, on a rising Green,
“To Venus sacred is a Temple seen:
“Thence, soft-descending, spreads a mazy Grove,
“The Seat of feather'd Warblers, and of Love.
“There, by my Bath, amid' the tufted Wood,
“My favourite Priestess, poor Thamesia, stood.
“The Shades began to chace declining Day,
“When lo! two Wolves the Thicket scour'd for Prey.
“Wing'd with her Fears, all-pale the Virgin flies,
“And rends with lamentable Shrieks the Skies.
“Scæva, tho' cover'd o'er with many a Wound,
“Shieldless, and faint, yet struggl'd from the Ground;
“Then, as the doleful Shrieker drew more nigh,
“He, now too conscious of a Woman's Cry,
“Far, far beyond his strength rush'd furious on,
“Both Wolves engag'd, tho' scarce a Match for one,
“And sav'd Thamesia's Life, but risqu'd his own.
“Him, Julius, to Equestrian Honour raise,
“And be the Bath the Knight's distinguish'd Praise.
“Nor shall, with Scæva, Knights of Bath expire,
“But unborn Heroes, proud, that Name acquire;
“That Name in hallow'd Rites, and pompous Dress,
“That Name in Tilts, and Tournaments profess.
“Ensigns of Dignity, the solemn Day,
“The slow Procession, and the crowded Way,
“Thro' a long Train of Centuries, yet unroll'd,
“With Pride, and Pleasure I at once behold.
“But, Cæsar, if thy founded Order fails,
“And not o'er Time's devouring Rage prevails,
“Then shall a Brunswic Albion's Throne adorn,
“Whom Cæsar could not for a Rival scorn.
“To found, and to revive, both, Praises claim,
“And oft the Founder shares the nobler Fame:
“But then, the great Reviver merits more,
“When That shall never sink, which sunk before.
“To Venus sacred is a Temple seen:
“Thence, soft-descending, spreads a mazy Grove,
“The Seat of feather'd Warblers, and of Love.
“There, by my Bath, amid' the tufted Wood,
“My favourite Priestess, poor Thamesia, stood.
“The Shades began to chace declining Day,
“When lo! two Wolves the Thicket scour'd for Prey.
“Wing'd with her Fears, all-pale the Virgin flies,
“And rends with lamentable Shrieks the Skies.
“Scæva, tho' cover'd o'er with many a Wound,
“Shieldless, and faint, yet struggl'd from the Ground;
“Then, as the doleful Shrieker drew more nigh,
“He, now too conscious of a Woman's Cry,
“Far, far beyond his strength rush'd furious on,
“Both Wolves engag'd, tho' scarce a Match for one,
“And sav'd Thamesia's Life, but risqu'd his own.
“Him, Julius, to Equestrian Honour raise,
“And be the Bath the Knight's distinguish'd Praise.
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“But unborn Heroes, proud, that Name acquire;
“That Name in hallow'd Rites, and pompous Dress,
“That Name in Tilts, and Tournaments profess.
“Ensigns of Dignity, the solemn Day,
“The slow Procession, and the crowded Way,
“Thro' a long Train of Centuries, yet unroll'd,
“With Pride, and Pleasure I at once behold.
“But, Cæsar, if thy founded Order fails,
“And not o'er Time's devouring Rage prevails,
“Then shall a Brunswic Albion's Throne adorn,
“Whom Cæsar could not for a Rival scorn.
“To found, and to revive, both, Praises claim,
“And oft the Founder shares the nobler Fame:
“But then, the great Reviver merits more,
“When That shall never sink, which sunk before.
The Goddess ceas'd, and waiting no Reply,
Swift on her towering Swans regain'd the Sky.
Swift on her towering Swans regain'd the Sky.
FINIS.
| The origin of the Knights of the Bath | |