Albion's Elegie or, A Poem Upon the High and Mighty Prince James Duke of Albany and York, His Departure from Scotland. Presented to His Royal Highness, By M. L. [i.e. Michael Livingstone] |
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ALBION'S Farewel:
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 | Albion's Elegie |  |
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ALBION'S Farewel:
OR, POEM, Presented to his Royal Highness returning to COURT.
ALBANUM en oculis abeuntem prosequor udis,
Et dixit tenui murmure Lingua, VALE.
Ovid.
Et dixit tenui murmure Lingua, VALE.
Ovid.
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TO His Royall Highness.
1.
Since Fates our pleasures thus disjoyne,Out of one Mass two Bodies coine,
yet with one breath inspir'd,
We will the rigid Section find,
Or can one half survive behind,
when th' other hath retir'd;
But we must now our half resign,
So Honour bids, and we incline;
The shrubs yeeld to the lofty pine.
2.
Should we your Sympathy augmentBy grudge? and be as impudent
as him who chides his Friend,
By some Emergent call'd away,
And forced to abridge his Stay,
as if Guests were confin'd;
So Honour calls you to set Sail,
Your Tide, our Good, let's not bewail!
But heartily impart all hail.
3.
Then Farewell MONARCH of one Heart,Whereof all SCOTLAND claims a part,
except some clownish Boo'rs,
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Or Stars have influence to inflame,
who feel no Higher Pow'rs,
Farewell our Hope's betrothed Dove,
Darling of Thoughts, Load-stone of Love,
Like Aristotle's Quadrate prove.
4.
To th' midle Region of the Air,May all the blustring Winds repair,
But as much gentle Gale,
Let Eolus send from his Cave,
As him to port in Waine may heave,
Or chariot under sail.
To tread the Sea when you're descri'd,
The gods their Fish-tail'd Steeds bestride,
And summon all their Host to ride:
5.
In Honour gladly to attend,From Fear release, from Harm desend
your welcome Laureat-Train.
Let Neptune all Sea-passions curb,
Which may obstruct, or dare disturb
The Cæsar of the main;
Or which may move in any sort
The second Column of the Court,
And render it to need support
6.
O! let's not this Occasion slip,Of reering up our selves the Ship,
wherein, Great Sir, secure
You may all Storms out-ride, and cast
Safe Anchor on our Breasts; the Mast
shall Valour's proof endure,
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Sound Resolution Top-sail bear,
Our Loyalty the Flag appear;
7.
The full-spread Sails, enlarged Hope,Our hearty Wishes Teloscope,
The Badge our Lyon shew;
The Soul's Cinque-port shall Compass be,
And to the Needle (Love) agree,
As always fixt on you.
Farewell Elected Admiral
Of CALEDON's high Brazen wall,
Which will all Hostile force appall:
8.
Nor Competition dare investHer outward dress, and tho' possess't
with hidden flames, yet must
In her own ashes straight consume,
Or otherwise produce but fume
the Honour to adjust.
Farewell the most advent'rous Prore,
That e're cut Sea, or Jason bore,
Your fraught without exchange restore.
9.
Unless supream great Cæsar please,To prove thy Conduct in the Seas,
to whose Empire most pure
Strick sail, and all Obedience shew,
Crave humbly home to steer, and view
his Primogeniture.
Farewell the most renowned Pair,
That e're tread Land, or Main did square,
This yeelds to You, that vails to Her.
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10.
Lo how the Fishes dance and leap,As if they did more pleasure reap
from her unchanging eye,
Then Rocks from Amphion's warbling lyre
Or that Fish which his back did hire
for Arion's melodie
Farewell bright Lamps, and all your Train,
Your Luster always to retain
Long both in Love, and Honour raign.
11.
Let SCOTLAND penetrate the SkiesBy suffrage, and Heart-sacrifice,
Jove's Herauld to employ;
That he their voyage a sweet sleep
Make seem, time with the Sea-gods keep
t'afford a safe Convoy
Let England Neptune's war rage pay
Their other Hope deal'd with the Bay
Receive, and solemnize the day
Of his long wish'd return; while we
Long for the same, and so may He,
by visiting once more
This loving Clime, and tender Nurse,
His presence hath remov'd the curse
entail'd on SCOTLAND poor
The very thought doth sweetly smell,
Our Love return Glad-news; to dwell?
He's on the rode, why do I add? FAREWELL.
Long for the same, and so may He,
by visiting once more
This loving Clime, and tender Nurse,
His presence hath remov'd the curse
entail'd on SCOTLAND poor
The very thought doth sweetly smell,
Our Love return Glad-news; to dwell?
He's on the rode, why do I add? FAREWELL.
FINIS.
| Albion's Elegie | |