Britannia Triumphans In Four Parts ... Sacred to XXVIII May; The Anniversary of the High and Mighty Prince's Birth, George Lewis, by the Grace of God, and Laws of Heaven and Earth, King of Great Britain, France and Ireland ... By Alexander Pennecuik |
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1
Hæc tibi semper erunt & cum solennia vota.
Uirg. Ec. v.
Uirg. Ec. v.
Hæc est illa dies, quæ magni conscia partus,
Lucanum populis & tibi polla dedit.
Mart.
Lucanum populis & tibi polla dedit.
Mart.
3
Unto the Right Honourable, and truly Noble, THOMAS Earl of Haddingtoun, &c.
5
PAN,
A PASTORAL.
- COLIN, Rox.
- MYLINDOR, Roth.
- ADONIS, Had.
- DIDON, Bel.
- Chorus.
SPEAKERS;
Hail happy Day, on which pleas'd Heav'n doth smile,
Auspicious Day which sav'd our sinking Isle.
Aurora leap from Titan's wat'ry Bed,
Thy benign Beams, thro' the wide Ball to spread;
Fair Phœbus shine with an unusual Robe,
Double your Light, and gladen all the Globe:
Ye Quiristers of th' Air, break thro' your Rest,
Tune your shrill Throats, and flicker from the Nest,
Mount towards Heav'n, and chirle your chearful Lays,
To mighty Pan, our God and Guardian's praise.
MYLINDOR.
Draw nigh ye airy Nymphs, ye light-foot Swains,
Who dance Levaltoes on the flow'ry Plains;
Forsake your Flocks, in Throngs come sport and play,
This is your great God, Pan's Festival Day;
6
Pan, the great Guardian of our Fields and Flocks,
With Sacrifice to him, our Altars smokes:
He feeds the Suckling and the aged Dam,
Kills the voracious Wolf, would touch the Lamb:
The parched Turf he moistens with the Rain,
Brings to the Fold the Straglers of the Plain,
Tune Oaten Reeds, come trip it on the Ground;
Let ecchoing Rocks reverberate the Sound:
Whilst scaly Flocks on Oozy Beds do play,
Syrens and Mer-maids keep the holy Day.
DIDON.
Ocker and Aller, with your Silver Streams,
Join in the Consort with our Northern Thames,
And when your rapid Floods meet in the Sea,
Cause Neptune keep the high Solemnitie,
Thro' all his wat'ry Courts the News convey,
A joyful Noise be heard from Tyber to the Tay.
COLIN.
Be hush'd ye noisy Winds, blow round ye balmy Breez,
In soft Notes tell your Gladness to the Trees:
The Cedar and the Shrub, no longer shall be dumb,
The Trees a Vocal Forrest shall become:
The aged sapless Oak, a fresh shall Bud,
New Blossoms shall embroider all the Wood.
Of old, as sacred Pages speaks the Thing,
Trees met in Parliament to choose their King;
The Jacks prevail'd, the silly Shrub must Reign,
But ye shall choose our Cedar for your King.
The Lion and the Lamb shall make their Bed,
Under the Covert of his awful Shade,
To shun the stormy Blasts or scalding Heat;
The Sheepherds find his Boughs a bless'd Retreat,
All rest Secure, under his warming Wings,
But his Britannia calls him best of Kings.
7
In Flora's rich Attire be deck'd y' enamel'd Meads,
Ye Flowers with vernal Airs erect your bashful Heads,
Mountains and Vales, a greener Liv'ry wear,
All Nature in a wedding Pomp appear:
And with this gladsome Day let us begin our Year.
DIDON.
Approach blyth Bacchus, with thy jolly Face,
Let your big belly'd Orgies, take their Place;
We'll consecrate thy Blood, to this high Feast,
Come Bacchus, and be, St. Cæcilia's Guest:
Musick and Wine shall heighten our Delight,
We'll gambole all the Day and revell all the Night:
Env'ying Angels shall the Gladness see,
Forsake their bless'd Abodes to keep the Jubilee;
We'll mingle Voices with the sacred Throng,
And Pan shall be the Burthen of the Song;
We'll borrow Anthems from the heav'nly Train,
Which shall be learn'd and sung by every Swain;
Seraphick Notes, expressive of our Love,
Angels and Men shall Sing, and Heav'n approve.
COLIN.
On Forth's Meanders the departing Swan,
Turns glade, and sings her dying Notes to Pan;
From golden Beds the wanton Fish do leap,
Wild Savages on Earth, Sea Monsters in the Deep:
Nature with Pomp, the darling Day doth keep,
The Noise awakes, Apelles from his sleep;
Rouz'd with the Joy, he'll start to Life again,
And in immortal Colours draw the Scene.
8
Behold! Adonis in yon Myrtle Shade,
Whose Angel Voice, makes dying Lovers glade,
He sings the Battles won, and how the Rebel fled:
Tells, valiant Heroes, tam'd the stubborn Crew,
And made the conquer'd trembling Rebels bow.
Hear how Adonis Sings.
ADONIS.
Fam'd Pan's weak Rival visited the Tay,
Sight and Slept,
Sight and Weept,
Weept and snak'd away:
Groves do Ring,
Sheepherds Sing,
Pan, our King,
Pan, hath won the Day.
CHORUS.
Happy, happy, happy, King;
Only the Brave deserve to Reign.
9
MAGNALIA,
A STATE POEM.
By the same Hand.
O were my Muse, inspir'd with sacred Flame,
To sing the Race from whence our Monarch came,
But how shall I perform the wondrous Task,
Which doth a Salust, or Buchanan ask;
Shall I turn publick Herauld, and proclaim
His Syres's Deeds, and his unspotted Fame,
Born in a Land, not honour'd with his Birth,
Blazon his Coat, display it to the Earth:
What Pen, his noble Ancestors can trace,
The Normand Gwelph, and the Fergusian Race,
His Families were ancient, great and good,
From him the noblest Kings derive their Blood;
As well might I describe, for where's the odds,
The Rise of Jupiter, and remnant Gods:
Elder than Records, as by all confest,
Like Gods, they were known, by their Blessings best.
One thousand and three hundred Years ago,
As Documents and Antiquaries show;
Our Monarch's Royal Ancestors did spring,
As learned Baptista proves from Volcis King,
Who did, as Vicar o're the Italian Empire reign.
Baptista Pigna, faithfully exprest,
The Rise and Progress of the House of Est',
From whence ev'n Actius's Loins great Alba's King,
Azo, his Progenitor did spring.
No! my weak Pen can't tell his Pedegree,
Baptista, I must leave the Theme to thee:
Do you relate the Actions of the dead,
From whom our mighty Monarch doth proceed.
Whilst I go on, his Greatness to relate,
Whom God hath sent to rule the British State.
To sing the Race from whence our Monarch came,
But how shall I perform the wondrous Task,
Which doth a Salust, or Buchanan ask;
Shall I turn publick Herauld, and proclaim
His Syres's Deeds, and his unspotted Fame,
Born in a Land, not honour'd with his Birth,
Blazon his Coat, display it to the Earth:
What Pen, his noble Ancestors can trace,
The Normand Gwelph, and the Fergusian Race,
His Families were ancient, great and good,
From him the noblest Kings derive their Blood;
As well might I describe, for where's the odds,
The Rise of Jupiter, and remnant Gods:
Elder than Records, as by all confest,
Like Gods, they were known, by their Blessings best.
One thousand and three hundred Years ago,
As Documents and Antiquaries show;
10
As learned Baptista proves from Volcis King,
Who did, as Vicar o're the Italian Empire reign.
Baptista Pigna, faithfully exprest,
The Rise and Progress of the House of Est',
From whence ev'n Actius's Loins great Alba's King,
Azo, his Progenitor did spring.
No! my weak Pen can't tell his Pedegree,
Baptista, I must leave the Theme to thee:
Do you relate the Actions of the dead,
From whom our mighty Monarch doth proceed.
Whilst I go on, his Greatness to relate,
Whom God hath sent to rule the British State.
Proceed my Muse, resume the lofty Theme,
Sing Him who wears the British Diadem,
Th' astonish'd World beheld him mount the Throne,
With Tears the Jacks, and Jesuits look'd on:
No Arm durst lend its Strength to tot'ring Babylon.
Proud Pharaoh fell, who did Design t'oppose,
Silence, and Palsie, seiz'd surviving Foes,
Winds wast o're peaceful Seas the royal Barque,
Proud of the Trust, to bear the sacred Ark:
Waves smoothly roll him to his Albion's Shore,
As they their Adm'ral, Nassau, did before;
The Floods, with awful Nod, take their farewel,
And haste to Neptun's Courts, the News to tell,
To the great God, their welcome Tidings bring,
Greenwich from us receiv'd Britannia's King:
We wisht him happy on his English Ground,
And all the Hopes of Jacobites we drown'd;
Neptune approv'd, Commands, and they obey,
Go, and proclaim him Sovereign of the Sea.
This is my Royal Law, Let it be done,
Acquaint the rising and the setting Sun;
First visit Clyde, and tell Dumbartoun this,
Is not the Clyde as well as Aller his?
No moe than Two, upon the Sea shall reign,
Neptune shall be its God, and George its King;
Publish my Edict the old World through,
And when that's done, go tell it to the new;
East and west Indies, where his Subjects Trade,
Let ev'ry Soul and Colony be glade.
Ye faithful Vassals listen unto me,
Thro' the wide Ocean publish the Decree,
I'm with my Brother Eolus combin'd,
(As I the Waters rule, so he the Wind.)
That no fierce Blast, with angry Billow meet,
T' endanger England's Merchant on the Deep,
Or fatal prove to brave Britannia's Fleet.
Smooth be your Brow, let no bold Billow rore,
Bring them with Smiles and Safety to the Shore,
See that your violent Fury you restrain,
For Eolus will keep back his Hurricane,
Spend all your Strength on Britain's Enemy,
Your Bosom be their Grave, and Shame their Elegy.
Sing Him who wears the British Diadem,
Th' astonish'd World beheld him mount the Throne,
With Tears the Jacks, and Jesuits look'd on:
No Arm durst lend its Strength to tot'ring Babylon.
Proud Pharaoh fell, who did Design t'oppose,
Silence, and Palsie, seiz'd surviving Foes,
Winds wast o're peaceful Seas the royal Barque,
Proud of the Trust, to bear the sacred Ark:
Waves smoothly roll him to his Albion's Shore,
As they their Adm'ral, Nassau, did before;
The Floods, with awful Nod, take their farewel,
And haste to Neptun's Courts, the News to tell,
To the great God, their welcome Tidings bring,
Greenwich from us receiv'd Britannia's King:
We wisht him happy on his English Ground,
And all the Hopes of Jacobites we drown'd;
Neptune approv'd, Commands, and they obey,
Go, and proclaim him Sovereign of the Sea.
This is my Royal Law, Let it be done,
Acquaint the rising and the setting Sun;
First visit Clyde, and tell Dumbartoun this,
Is not the Clyde as well as Aller his?
11
Neptune shall be its God, and George its King;
Publish my Edict the old World through,
And when that's done, go tell it to the new;
East and west Indies, where his Subjects Trade,
Let ev'ry Soul and Colony be glade.
Ye faithful Vassals listen unto me,
Thro' the wide Ocean publish the Decree,
I'm with my Brother Eolus combin'd,
(As I the Waters rule, so he the Wind.)
That no fierce Blast, with angry Billow meet,
T' endanger England's Merchant on the Deep,
Or fatal prove to brave Britannia's Fleet.
Smooth be your Brow, let no bold Billow rore,
Bring them with Smiles and Safety to the Shore,
See that your violent Fury you restrain,
For Eolus will keep back his Hurricane,
Spend all your Strength on Britain's Enemy,
Your Bosom be their Grave, and Shame their Elegy.
Thus spoke the mighty God with awful Voice,
The flinty Rock split with the thundring Noise;
The loyal Waves with reverence kiss'd the Sand,
And said Amen, unto the God's Command.
The flinty Rock split with the thundring Noise;
The loyal Waves with reverence kiss'd the Sand,
And said Amen, unto the God's Command.
'Twas not the Sea alone express'd its Mirth,
Loud Acclamations ecchoed from the Earth;
For Joy. Britannia and Hibernia sung,
Thro' all the Belgian Plain loud Anthems rung,
Smiles dimpled ev'ry Cheek, Mirth sat on ev'ry Brow,
The Harp play'd sweet, its free of Discord now.
The Thistle, which 'mongst Weeds no longer grows,
Newly united to the fragrant Rose,
To smart the Hand which would its Sister pluck,
More beautiful than Fleur de Lis doth look:
With ruddy Cheeks, and odorif'rous Smell,
The Rose doth joy in silent Language tell,
Lifts up her painted Face unto the Sky,
And shews her Scarlets of the Tyrian Dy:
Each Flower grew gayer, when it heard the Tale,
Only the Lily wore a deeper Pale:
Truth in the Field, her Standart did display,
Religion glister'd, in a rich Array;
The Sacred Tribe, bliss Heav'n with open Face,
All loyal Souls croud to the holy Place,
Adore th' unfathom'd Riches of its Grace.
Joy reign'd triumphant thro' the Halcyon Plain,
Until a viprous Monster spoil'd the Scene,
Then War broke out, and dash'd the Joy again.
'Twas on Dumblana's Heaths, near the meandring Forth,
Fierce Rebels from the North,
The Chevalier to crown,
And God-like George pull down,
With impious Arms broke forth,
Fond to sluce their Blood they are,
Follow their Leader, Proteous Mar
Factious in Peace, unskill'd in Fates of War.
But Heav'n defeated all the Plots of Hell,
King George's Arms did all their Strength repell,
Infatuated Fools, they either fled or fell.
Loud Acclamations ecchoed from the Earth;
For Joy. Britannia and Hibernia sung,
Thro' all the Belgian Plain loud Anthems rung,
Smiles dimpled ev'ry Cheek, Mirth sat on ev'ry Brow,
The Harp play'd sweet, its free of Discord now.
The Thistle, which 'mongst Weeds no longer grows,
Newly united to the fragrant Rose,
To smart the Hand which would its Sister pluck,
More beautiful than Fleur de Lis doth look:
With ruddy Cheeks, and odorif'rous Smell,
The Rose doth joy in silent Language tell,
Lifts up her painted Face unto the Sky,
And shews her Scarlets of the Tyrian Dy:
12
Only the Lily wore a deeper Pale:
Truth in the Field, her Standart did display,
Religion glister'd, in a rich Array;
The Sacred Tribe, bliss Heav'n with open Face,
All loyal Souls croud to the holy Place,
Adore th' unfathom'd Riches of its Grace.
Joy reign'd triumphant thro' the Halcyon Plain,
Until a viprous Monster spoil'd the Scene,
Then War broke out, and dash'd the Joy again.
'Twas on Dumblana's Heaths, near the meandring Forth,
Fierce Rebels from the North,
The Chevalier to crown,
And God-like George pull down,
With impious Arms broke forth,
Fond to sluce their Blood they are,
Follow their Leader, Proteous Mar
Factious in Peace, unskill'd in Fates of War.
But Heav'n defeated all the Plots of Hell,
King George's Arms did all their Strength repell,
Infatuated Fools, they either fled or fell.
13
A PANEGYRICK ON THE Royal Family.
Semper honos nomenque tuum laudesque manebunt.
Uirg.
Uirg.
15
Angels and Saints, salute the blissful Morn,
On which Great George Britannia's King was born.
With him no impious Maxims do take Place,
No Rebel rules, no Loy'list in Disgrace.
Grateful to Heav'n, from whom his Mercies flow,
And scatters Favours 'mongst his Friends below.
O noble Stewart! Born for Britain's Good,
The best and bravest of the Stewart Blood.
Bad Stewarts did our Miseries advance,
Gave up the Keys, and sold us all to France.
Famish'd the House into a deep Decay,
Then, like th' unfaithful Stewart, run away.
Britain hath seen, thank God, these Days are gone,
When lawless Pow'r usurpt the British Throne.
And blind Obedience fill'd the holy Chair,
No Weapons then approv'd save Tears and Pray'r.
But when th' anointed Levie's Sons did touch,
They soon grew Whigs, join'd with the rebel Dutch:
Call'd Non-resisting Principles false Coin,
Drew Sword, and fought their Monarch at the Boyne.
Just George employs his Sword in Heav'ns Cause,
And wisely sways by Britain's sacred Laws.
He rul'd his German Subjects by our Law,
Ere yet the British Diadem he saw.
He did these native Principles maintain,
Which make a happy and a glorious Reign:
His steddy Temper to the World is known,
He makes a dazling Figure on the Throne.
Strong Penetration in his Schemes appear,
Tho' deep his Judgment, his Expression clear:
And boldly executes, incapable of Fear.
The Series of his Success who can tell,
His fam'd Atchievements would to Volumes swell.
He with unshaken Temper always rules,
And mocks the Projects of the giddy Fools.
He learn'd to love Britannia from his Youth,
Sage Counsels dropt from wise Sophia's Mouth,
Which taught him all the Rudiments of Truth.
The Fruit of these rich Prophecies appears,
His Mother taught him in his tender Years.
Fit Words like Lemuel's Mother she did choose,
To him her Son, the Son of many Vows.
His military Glories brightly shine,
He's more than Man, he's ev'ry Way divine,
His Valour which subdued the Force of Hell,
Let Hungary, and the Morea tell,
Where Cæsar like, he triumph'd o're the Foe,
Made trepide Troops to feel his weighty Blow,
Flanders and Germany, his Praise proclaim,
The German Eagle spreads his glorious Name;
True Heir of all his Predecessors Grace,
Virtues inherent in the Brunswick Race.
Three of his Brethren, whom the World admir'd,
Whom Courage, Zeal, and publick Sp'rit inspir'd,
In the Defence of their dear Country stood,
And died with Honour, in the Field of Blood.
On which Great George Britannia's King was born.
With him no impious Maxims do take Place,
No Rebel rules, no Loy'list in Disgrace.
Grateful to Heav'n, from whom his Mercies flow,
And scatters Favours 'mongst his Friends below.
O noble Stewart! Born for Britain's Good,
The best and bravest of the Stewart Blood.
Bad Stewarts did our Miseries advance,
Gave up the Keys, and sold us all to France.
Famish'd the House into a deep Decay,
Then, like th' unfaithful Stewart, run away.
Britain hath seen, thank God, these Days are gone,
When lawless Pow'r usurpt the British Throne.
And blind Obedience fill'd the holy Chair,
No Weapons then approv'd save Tears and Pray'r.
But when th' anointed Levie's Sons did touch,
They soon grew Whigs, join'd with the rebel Dutch:
Call'd Non-resisting Principles false Coin,
Drew Sword, and fought their Monarch at the Boyne.
16
And wisely sways by Britain's sacred Laws.
He rul'd his German Subjects by our Law,
Ere yet the British Diadem he saw.
He did these native Principles maintain,
Which make a happy and a glorious Reign:
His steddy Temper to the World is known,
He makes a dazling Figure on the Throne.
Strong Penetration in his Schemes appear,
Tho' deep his Judgment, his Expression clear:
And boldly executes, incapable of Fear.
The Series of his Success who can tell,
His fam'd Atchievements would to Volumes swell.
He with unshaken Temper always rules,
And mocks the Projects of the giddy Fools.
He learn'd to love Britannia from his Youth,
Sage Counsels dropt from wise Sophia's Mouth,
Which taught him all the Rudiments of Truth.
The Fruit of these rich Prophecies appears,
His Mother taught him in his tender Years.
Fit Words like Lemuel's Mother she did choose,
To him her Son, the Son of many Vows.
His military Glories brightly shine,
He's more than Man, he's ev'ry Way divine,
His Valour which subdued the Force of Hell,
Let Hungary, and the Morea tell,
Where Cæsar like, he triumph'd o're the Foe,
Made trepide Troops to feel his weighty Blow,
Flanders and Germany, his Praise proclaim,
The German Eagle spreads his glorious Name;
True Heir of all his Predecessors Grace,
Virtues inherent in the Brunswick Race.
Three of his Brethren, whom the World admir'd,
Whom Courage, Zeal, and publick Sp'rit inspir'd,
In the Defence of their dear Country stood,
And died with Honour, in the Field of Blood.
17
Britain, thrice tristed with a barren Reign,
Doth now enjoy a rich prolifick King;
When full of Years, and Honours, he is dead,
His Son, the great Augustus, shall succeed,
O Heav'n, rain lasting Honours on his Head.
Indulgent Heav'n, on the dear Hero smile,
The rising Glory of the British Isle:
Guard Europe's Genius, all ye heav'nly Powers,
In War protect him, for his Cause is yours;
He'll raze the Babel Monster to the Ground,
With Lawrels let the Hero's Head be crown'd.
At Aud'nard he did lasting Trophies gain,
His Country's Good fermented ev'ry Vain,
He look'd like Eugine in the red Campaign.
Sweet Olive-Branches do his Table grace,
The fertile Wilhelmina's lovely Race,
In her fair Face, a Heav'n of Beauty lies,
Bright as the Beams, which gilds the Eastern Skies;
With thousand Charms, blooms like an Eastern Bride,
Britannia's Glory, and her Sexes Pride:
Homer records in never dying Song,
A Troop of Godesses, a sacred Throng,
Whose dazling Beauty struck the wond'ring Croud,
Jupiter's Virgin Daughter 'mongst them stood,
Distinguish'd by her Stature, and her Air,
Of th' aimiable Circle, none so fair;
No Wonder, Walias Princes was not there.
When 'mongst the British Ladies she is seen,
The Strangers Lips, proclaim her lovely Queen:
When the King's Daughter, the Illustrious Fair,
'Mongst her honourable Women doth appear,
Each Eye beholds her, and it fixes there.
Whilst in her greener Years, and Father's Court,
Her Rays of Beauty, and Majestick Port,
A Troop of Royal Lovers to her drew,
And made the Empire at her Feet to bow.
Doth now enjoy a rich prolifick King;
When full of Years, and Honours, he is dead,
His Son, the great Augustus, shall succeed,
O Heav'n, rain lasting Honours on his Head.
Indulgent Heav'n, on the dear Hero smile,
The rising Glory of the British Isle:
Guard Europe's Genius, all ye heav'nly Powers,
In War protect him, for his Cause is yours;
He'll raze the Babel Monster to the Ground,
With Lawrels let the Hero's Head be crown'd.
At Aud'nard he did lasting Trophies gain,
His Country's Good fermented ev'ry Vain,
He look'd like Eugine in the red Campaign.
Sweet Olive-Branches do his Table grace,
The fertile Wilhelmina's lovely Race,
In her fair Face, a Heav'n of Beauty lies,
Bright as the Beams, which gilds the Eastern Skies;
With thousand Charms, blooms like an Eastern Bride,
Britannia's Glory, and her Sexes Pride:
Homer records in never dying Song,
A Troop of Godesses, a sacred Throng,
Whose dazling Beauty struck the wond'ring Croud,
Jupiter's Virgin Daughter 'mongst them stood,
Distinguish'd by her Stature, and her Air,
Of th' aimiable Circle, none so fair;
No Wonder, Walias Princes was not there.
When 'mongst the British Ladies she is seen,
The Strangers Lips, proclaim her lovely Queen:
When the King's Daughter, the Illustrious Fair,
'Mongst her honourable Women doth appear,
Each Eye beholds her, and it fixes there.
Whilst in her greener Years, and Father's Court,
Her Rays of Beauty, and Majestick Port,
A Troop of Royal Lovers to her drew,
And made the Empire at her Feet to bow.
18
Fall whorish Babel, fall, to lowest Hell,
King George's House doth ring thy funeral Bell;
These rising Stars shall bless Britannia's Isle,
And Torches prove to light thy funeral Pile.
King George's House doth ring thy funeral Bell;
These rising Stars shall bless Britannia's Isle,
And Torches prove to light thy funeral Pile.
Near Ocker's christal Streams, and pearly Sands,
Where Bruno's Buildings, beauteous Brunswick stands,
(Like ancient Antioch, famous thro' the Earth,)
Reforming Luther's Principles, took Birth:
Heav'n and Duke Brunswick, on the Saint did smile,
And sent the Gospel, to the British Isle;
Shiloch on Albion's Clime darts Rays of Light,
A blooming Morn succeeds the dusky Night;
Heav'n waters Luther's Evangelick Seed,
Manna drops down, to bliss the Banks of Tweed.
Rome storm'd, and strove to quench the Altar Coal,
Pull down the Sun, which lights our Northern Pole,
She struggled long in vain, Heav'n blasts the black Designs,
Still Salem's Courts with Orient Lusture shines.
But when ungrateful Britain did rebel,
She from her Beauty, and her Grandeur fell;
Sathan and Rome her Captive make again,
Till Heav'n-born Nassau broke th' Usurper's Chain;
Conquer'd our Foes, became our sovereign Lord,
Religion, Laws, and Liberties restor'd:
He sway'd the Scepter with immortal Fame,
Gray Hairs, and stam'ring Babes, shall bless his Name.
Legions of burning Seraphs watch his Dust,
Until the Resurrection of the Just:
His precious Dust, who Britain's Isle did save,
Let all the Earth pay Homage to his Grave.
He dies! whom Heav'n approv'd, and Earth admir'd;
And with him all our Hope and Joy expir'd.
We droop the Head, the fatal Loss bemoan,
Who'll fight for Britain, when her William's gone?
And Death hath pull'd mild Anna from the Crown:
Lo, mighty Brunswick mounts the British Throne,
Defended by the Magick of his Rays,
We'll sing beneath our Vines with chearful Lays,
Long live King George, and still thy Power advance,
Till you make good your Title, King of France;
Still greater grow, till all the World see,
No other Monarch of the Earth, save thee.
Where Bruno's Buildings, beauteous Brunswick stands,
(Like ancient Antioch, famous thro' the Earth,)
Reforming Luther's Principles, took Birth:
Heav'n and Duke Brunswick, on the Saint did smile,
And sent the Gospel, to the British Isle;
Shiloch on Albion's Clime darts Rays of Light,
A blooming Morn succeeds the dusky Night;
Heav'n waters Luther's Evangelick Seed,
Manna drops down, to bliss the Banks of Tweed.
Rome storm'd, and strove to quench the Altar Coal,
Pull down the Sun, which lights our Northern Pole,
She struggled long in vain, Heav'n blasts the black Designs,
Still Salem's Courts with Orient Lusture shines.
But when ungrateful Britain did rebel,
She from her Beauty, and her Grandeur fell;
Sathan and Rome her Captive make again,
Till Heav'n-born Nassau broke th' Usurper's Chain;
Conquer'd our Foes, became our sovereign Lord,
Religion, Laws, and Liberties restor'd:
He sway'd the Scepter with immortal Fame,
Gray Hairs, and stam'ring Babes, shall bless his Name.
Legions of burning Seraphs watch his Dust,
Until the Resurrection of the Just:
His precious Dust, who Britain's Isle did save,
Let all the Earth pay Homage to his Grave.
He dies! whom Heav'n approv'd, and Earth admir'd;
And with him all our Hope and Joy expir'd.
We droop the Head, the fatal Loss bemoan,
Who'll fight for Britain, when her William's gone?
And Death hath pull'd mild Anna from the Crown:
Lo, mighty Brunswick mounts the British Throne,
19
We'll sing beneath our Vines with chearful Lays,
Long live King George, and still thy Power advance,
Till you make good your Title, King of France;
Still greater grow, till all the World see,
No other Monarch of the Earth, save thee.
The Saphick MUSE.
The matchless Virtues of Britannia's King,
My Muse shall in strong Saphick Numbers sing.
My Muse shall in strong Saphick Numbers sing.
Britains
Blessing, Faiths Defender,
Thee we'll hearty Homage render;
And Abjure black Romes Pretender,
And the Tory;
Thee we'll hearty Homage render;
And Abjure black Romes Pretender,
And the Tory;
Let the Rebels still be snarling
Round thy Brows, we'll wreath the Garland:
Thou art Heav'n and Europe's Darling,
And our Glory.
Round thy Brows, we'll wreath the Garland:
Thou art Heav'n and Europe's Darling,
And our Glory.
Thou'rt our Guardian under God,
Thou has fought for Peace abroad,
Rome hath felt thy conquering Rod,
By Correction.
Thou has fought for Peace abroad,
Rome hath felt thy conquering Rod,
By Correction.
Thou art sprung of noble Race,
Majesty is in thy Face,
Thou possesses ev'ry Grace,
In Perfection.
Majesty is in thy Face,
Thou possesses ev'ry Grace,
In Perfection.
Fierce Courage sits upon thy Brow,
And the Father's Smilings too:
Streams of Wisdom flow from you,
To direct us.
And the Father's Smilings too:
Streams of Wisdom flow from you,
To direct us.
Kings submit their Claims to Thee,
(Author of our Libertie;)
Thy Decisions Heavn's Decree,
Thou'lt protect us.
(Author of our Libertie;)
Thy Decisions Heavn's Decree,
Thou'lt protect us.
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Still with unrival'd Glory shine,
Gallick and Belgick Pow'r do join,
To support thy Royal Line,
With Grandure.
Gallick and Belgick Pow'r do join,
To support thy Royal Line,
With Grandure.
Great Standard-Bearer of th' Empire,
(Valour doth thy Breast inspire)
Warlike Nations thee admire,
'Bove Alexander.
(Valour doth thy Breast inspire)
Warlike Nations thee admire,
'Bove Alexander.
ANNEXA.
In him three glorious Dukedoms reunite,
Brunswick, Hanover, and by Nuptial Rite,
Zell calls him Master, and her dear Delight.
To make the good, the gallant George rise higher,
His Breman and his Osnaburg conspire.
Three mighty manly Nations him obey,
O're them the imperial Scepter he doth Sway;
His numerous Subjects scatter'd thro' the Land,
Are like the Sars of Heav'n or th' Oceans Sand:
Scotland, England, Ireland owns his Pow'r,
His Seed shall Reign whilst Sun and Moon endure.
My Muse doth this prophetick Vision sing,
From Fredrick's Loins a numerous Race shall spring,
Who shall in Europe and in Asia Reign.
Fredrick the Grace, and Glory of the Age,
His buding Youth doth Miracles presage.
Brunswick, Hanover, and by Nuptial Rite,
Zell calls him Master, and her dear Delight.
To make the good, the gallant George rise higher,
His Breman and his Osnaburg conspire.
Three mighty manly Nations him obey,
O're them the imperial Scepter he doth Sway;
His numerous Subjects scatter'd thro' the Land,
Are like the Sars of Heav'n or th' Oceans Sand:
Scotland, England, Ireland owns his Pow'r,
His Seed shall Reign whilst Sun and Moon endure.
My Muse doth this prophetick Vision sing,
From Fredrick's Loins a numerous Race shall spring,
Who shall in Europe and in Asia Reign.
Fredrick the Grace, and Glory of the Age,
His buding Youth doth Miracles presage.
Prince Fredrick, visit Scotia, on her Smile,
Thy Presence shall her Poverty beguile.
Let Fredrick's Feet th' Ult'ma Thule tread,
Her frozen Checks shall glow with Crimson red,
Nor envy England with her Indian Trade.
Rude England doth, thy Royal Parents keep,
Let Scotia have Thee for a Royal Type,
Shine on us blazing Star, or we're undone,
For half an Age we have not seen the Sun,
Warm'd with the distant Rayes, we're still alive,
A Royal Stem would surely make us Thrive.
Thy Presence shall her Poverty beguile.
Let Fredrick's Feet th' Ult'ma Thule tread,
Her frozen Checks shall glow with Crimson red,
Nor envy England with her Indian Trade.
Rude England doth, thy Royal Parents keep,
Let Scotia have Thee for a Royal Type,
Shine on us blazing Star, or we're undone,
For half an Age we have not seen the Sun,
Warm'd with the distant Rayes, we're still alive,
A Royal Stem would surely make us Thrive.
FINIS.
21
[G reat Good and Wise, the Terror of the Pope]
G reat Good and Wise, the Terror of the Pope,
E ngland 's Glory, and the Church's Prop:
O f Kings the greatest, and of Men the best;
R eligion fills thy Heart, and fires thy Breast:
G lorious Actions do adorn thy Reign,
E ternal Honour courts Britannia's King.
E ngland 's Glory, and the Church's Prop:
O f Kings the greatest, and of Men the best;
R eligion fills thy Heart, and fires thy Breast:
G lorious Actions do adorn thy Reign,
E ternal Honour courts Britannia's King.
L o at thy Feet the conquer'd Rebels bow,
E v'n Heav'n approves, and shines on all you do,
W ith Courage, yet with Clemency you reign:
I mmortal Monarch Britain's glorious King,
S ongs of thy Praise, Apolo's Bards shall sing.
E v'n Heav'n approves, and shines on all you do,
W ith Courage, yet with Clemency you reign:
I mmortal Monarch Britain's glorious King,
S ongs of thy Praise, Apolo's Bards shall sing.
| Britannia Triumphans | |