University of Virginia Library

To the Worshipful Jonathan Atkins, Knight, Governour of the Island of the Barbadoes.

What ails the Poet? What a new desire
Inflames his Heart, and doth his Soul inspire,
With emulous Notes to touch Apollo's Lyre?
'Tis you, dear Sir, as great by Birth as Fame,
Whom Merit and true Honour gives a Name;
Who Heaven (Great Soul) did send for to revive
This drooping Island, and to keep alive
Those who Oppression did before enslave,
And Cruelty deject unto the Grave.
You are the Subject of my Verse, to you
All the Encomiums of our Praise is due.
Astræa now appears with Heavenly Grace,
And banish'd Justice re-assumes her place.
The course of things are chang'd, and we are now
No more deceiv'd by Janus double brow.
Blest Halcyon days, and you that made them so!
Unto what Land soever I shall go,
Your Memory I'll strive for to display,
Whilst Phœbus with his Beams adorns the day.
But yet methinks I hear some say, Where's he
Dares contradict us in our Seigniory,
And tax our actions? Come, and you shall see
One fam'd for Justice, Mercy, Piety;
VVhose Eye no diff'rence knows between the poor,
And him whose laden Ships can hold no more;
VVhose actions Justice guides, for in each Hand
The Sword and Balance equally do stand.
Here's no Perversion; here's the Motto too,
Give God and Cæsar equally their due.
O glorious Sun-shine of this Western Isle,
VVhat noble Appellation, or what Stile
Befits thy Praise? Or how can we express
Our Joy, your Bounty, and our Happiness?
VVhose liberal hand bestows, e're we can think,
Whole Bowls of Blessings, fill'd up to the brink,
Beyond our hopes: Yet thus the Powers we serve
Are wont for to reward, e're we deserve.
O thou great Author of all earthly things,
Whose hand deposes Princes, throws down Kings,
Who view'st from thy Olympick Throne the State,
And actions of each mighty Potentate;
VVho rules the worlds vast Frame, O Crown the days
Of our blest Jonathan with living Bays;
And that his Progeny may ever live,
Propitious Heavens, grant, as I believe.
First shall the liquid VVaters cease to flow,
The Earth to cause both Plants and Trees to grow;
Heavens radiant Monarch shall deny his light,
The Machine of the VVorld involv'd in Night;
The Lamb shall slay the Lyon, and the Hare
Of the swift Hound no more shall stand in fear;
The Eagle court the Dove, and all things be
In Sympathie with their Antipathie:
'Tis then, and not till then, my Pen shall stay,
And strive no more your Glory to display;
Which like the Sun in his Meridian height,
Cheers the whole World with his illustrious Light.