 | Epistle to Charles Montague Esq |  |
EPISTLE TO Charles Montague Esq;
ON His MAJESTY's VOYAGE TO HOLLAND.
1
SIR,
Since you oft invite me to renew
An Art I've either lost, or never knew,
Pleas'd my past follies kindly to commend,
And fondly lose the Critick in the Friend;
Thô my warm Youth untimely be decay'd,
From Grave to Dull insensibly betray'd,
I'll contradict the Humour of the Times,
(Inclin'd to bus'ness, and averse to Rhimes)
And to obey the Man I love, in spight
Of the World's Genius, and my own, I'll write.
An Art I've either lost, or never knew,
Pleas'd my past follies kindly to commend,
And fondly lose the Critick in the Friend;
Thô my warm Youth untimely be decay'd,
From Grave to Dull insensibly betray'd,
I'll contradict the Humour of the Times,
(Inclin'd to bus'ness, and averse to Rhimes)
And to obey the Man I love, in spight
Of the World's Genius, and my own, I'll write.
But think not that I vainly do aspire
To Rival what I only wou'd Admire,
The Heat and Beauty of your manly thought,
And Force like that with which your Heroe fought.
Like Sampson's Riddle is that powerful Song,
Sweet as the Honey, as the Lyon strong;
The Colours there so artfully are laid,
They fear no Lustre, and they want no Shade,
But shall of writing a just model give,
While Boyne shall flow, and William's Glory live.
To Rival what I only wou'd Admire,
The Heat and Beauty of your manly thought,
And Force like that with which your Heroe fought.
Like Sampson's Riddle is that powerful Song,
Sweet as the Honey, as the Lyon strong;
2
They fear no Lustre, and they want no Shade,
But shall of writing a just model give,
While Boyne shall flow, and William's Glory live.
Yet since his ev'ry Act may well infuse
Some happy Rapture in the humblest Muse,
Thô mine despairs to reach the wondrous height,
She prunes her pinnions, eager of the flight;
The King's the Theme, and I've a Subject's Right:
When William's Deeds, and rescu'd Europe's Joy
Do ev'ry Tongue and ev'ry Pen employ,
'Tis to think Treason sure to shew no Zeal,
And not to Write is almost to Rebel.
Some happy Rapture in the humblest Muse,
Thô mine despairs to reach the wondrous height,
She prunes her pinnions, eager of the flight;
The King's the Theme, and I've a Subject's Right:
When William's Deeds, and rescu'd Europe's Joy
Do ev'ry Tongue and ev'ry Pen employ,
'Tis to think Treason sure to shew no Zeal,
And not to Write is almost to Rebel.
Let Albion then forgive her Meanest Son,
Who wou'd continue what her Best begun;
Who, leaving Conquests and the Pomp of War,
Wou'd sing the pious King's divided Care;
How eagerly he flew when Europe's Fate
Did for the Seeds of future Actions wait;
And how two Nations did with Transport boast
Which was belov'd, and lov'd the Victor most:
How joyful Belgia gratefully prepar'd
Trophies and Vows for her returning Lord;
How the Fair Isle with rival passion strove,
How by her Sorrow she exprest her Love,
When He withdrew from what his Arm had free'd,
And how she blest his way, yet sigh'd, and said,
Who wou'd continue what her Best begun;
Who, leaving Conquests and the Pomp of War,
Wou'd sing the pious King's divided Care;
How eagerly he flew when Europe's Fate
Did for the Seeds of future Actions wait;
And how two Nations did with Transport boast
Which was belov'd, and lov'd the Victor most:
How joyful Belgia gratefully prepar'd
Trophies and Vows for her returning Lord;
3
How by her Sorrow she exprest her Love,
When He withdrew from what his Arm had free'd,
And how she blest his way, yet sigh'd, and said,
Is it decree'd my Heroe ne'er shall rest,
Ne'er be of me, and I of him possest?
Scarce had I met his Vertue with my Throne,
(By Right, by Merit, and by Arms his own)
But Ireland's freedom and the Wars alarms
Call'd him from me and his Maria's Charms.
Oh gen'rous Prince! too prodigally kind,
Can the diffusive Goodness of your Mind
Be in no bounds, but of the World, confin'd?
Shou'd sinking Nations summon You away,
Maria's Love might justifie Your stay.
Imperfectly the many Vows are paid,
Which for your Safety to the Gods were made,
While, on the Boyne, they labour'd to out-do
Your Zeal for Albion by their Care for You;
When too impatient of a glorious Ease,
You tempt new Dangers on the Winter-Seas.
The Belgick State has rested long secure
Within the Circle of thy Guardian Power;
Rear'd by thy care that noble Lyon, grown
Mature in strength, can range the Woods Alone:
When to my Arms they did the Prince resign,
I blest the Change, and thought Him wholly mine;
Conceiv'd Long hopes I jointly shou'd obey
His stronger, and Maria's gentle Sway,
He fierce as Thunder, she as Lightning bright;
One my Defence, and t'other my Delight.
Yet go—where Honour calls the Heroe, go;
Nor let your eyes behold how mine do flow;
Go, meet your Country's joy, your Vertue's due,
Receive their Triumphs, and prepare for new;
Inlarge my Empire, and let France afford
The next large Harvest to thy prosp'rous Sword;
Again in Crecy let my Arms be rear'd,
And o'er the Continent Britannia fear'd;
While under Mary's tutelary Care,
Far from the Danger, or the Noise of War,
In honourable Pleasure I possess
The Spoils of Conquest, and the Charms of Peace.
As the Great Lamp by which the Globe is blest,
Constant in toil, and ignorant of rest,
Thrô diff'rent Regions does his Course pursue,
And leaves one World but to revive a new;
While, by a pleasing Change, the Queen of Night
Relieves his Lustre with a milder Light:
So when your Beams do distant Nations chear,
The Partner of your Crown shall mount the Sphere,
Able Alone my Empire to sustain,
And carry on the Glories of thy Reign—
But why has fate maliciously decree'd,
That greatest blessings must by turns succeed?
Ne'er be of me, and I of him possest?
Scarce had I met his Vertue with my Throne,
(By Right, by Merit, and by Arms his own)
But Ireland's freedom and the Wars alarms
Call'd him from me and his Maria's Charms.
Oh gen'rous Prince! too prodigally kind,
Can the diffusive Goodness of your Mind
Be in no bounds, but of the World, confin'd?
Shou'd sinking Nations summon You away,
Maria's Love might justifie Your stay.
Imperfectly the many Vows are paid,
Which for your Safety to the Gods were made,
While, on the Boyne, they labour'd to out-do
Your Zeal for Albion by their Care for You;
When too impatient of a glorious Ease,
You tempt new Dangers on the Winter-Seas.
The Belgick State has rested long secure
Within the Circle of thy Guardian Power;
4
Mature in strength, can range the Woods Alone:
When to my Arms they did the Prince resign,
I blest the Change, and thought Him wholly mine;
Conceiv'd Long hopes I jointly shou'd obey
His stronger, and Maria's gentle Sway,
He fierce as Thunder, she as Lightning bright;
One my Defence, and t'other my Delight.
Yet go—where Honour calls the Heroe, go;
Nor let your eyes behold how mine do flow;
Go, meet your Country's joy, your Vertue's due,
Receive their Triumphs, and prepare for new;
Inlarge my Empire, and let France afford
The next large Harvest to thy prosp'rous Sword;
Again in Crecy let my Arms be rear'd,
And o'er the Continent Britannia fear'd;
While under Mary's tutelary Care,
Far from the Danger, or the Noise of War,
In honourable Pleasure I possess
The Spoils of Conquest, and the Charms of Peace.
As the Great Lamp by which the Globe is blest,
Constant in toil, and ignorant of rest,
Thrô diff'rent Regions does his Course pursue,
And leaves one World but to revive a new;
5
Relieves his Lustre with a milder Light:
So when your Beams do distant Nations chear,
The Partner of your Crown shall mount the Sphere,
Able Alone my Empire to sustain,
And carry on the Glories of thy Reign—
But why has fate maliciously decree'd,
That greatest blessings must by turns succeed?
Here she relented, and would urge his stay
By all that fondness and that grief could say;
But soon did her presaging thoughts employ
On Scenes of Triumphs and returning Joy:
Thus, like the Tide, while her unconstant brest
Was swell'd with Rapture, by Despair deprest,
Fate call'd; The Heroe must his way pursue,
And her cries lessen'd as the shore withdrew.
By all that fondness and that grief could say;
But soon did her presaging thoughts employ
On Scenes of Triumphs and returning Joy:
Thus, like the Tide, while her unconstant brest
Was swell'd with Rapture, by Despair deprest,
Fate call'd; The Heroe must his way pursue,
And her cries lessen'd as the shore withdrew.
The Winds were silent, and the Gentle Main
Bore an Auspicious Omen of his Reign,
When Neptune, owning whom those Seas obey,
Nodded, and bad the chearful Tritons play.
Each chose a diff'rent Subject for their Lays,
But Orange was the Burthen of their Praise:
Some in their strains up to the Fountain run,
From whence this stream of Vertue first begun;
Others chose Heroes of a later date,
And sung the Founder of the neighb'ring State,
How daringly he Tyranny withstood,
And seal'd his Country's freedom with his Blood.
Then to the two illustrious Brethren came,
The glorious Rivals of their Father's Fame:
And to the Youth, whose pregnant hopes out-ran
The steps of Time, and early shew'd the Man,
For whose Alliance Monarchs did contend,
And gave a Daughter to secure a Friend.
But as, by Nature's Law, the Phœnix dies,
That from its Urn a Nobler Bird may rise,
So fate ordain'd the Parent soon shou'd set
To make the Glories of his Heir compleat.
Bore an Auspicious Omen of his Reign,
When Neptune, owning whom those Seas obey,
Nodded, and bad the chearful Tritons play.
Each chose a diff'rent Subject for their Lays,
But Orange was the Burthen of their Praise:
6
From whence this stream of Vertue first begun;
Others chose Heroes of a later date,
And sung the Founder of the neighb'ring State,
How daringly he Tyranny withstood,
And seal'd his Country's freedom with his Blood.
Then to the two illustrious Brethren came,
The glorious Rivals of their Father's Fame:
And to the Youth, whose pregnant hopes out-ran
The steps of Time, and early shew'd the Man,
For whose Alliance Monarchs did contend,
And gave a Daughter to secure a Friend.
But as, by Nature's Law, the Phœnix dies,
That from its Urn a Nobler Bird may rise,
So fate ordain'd the Parent soon shou'd set
To make the Glories of his Heir compleat.
At William's Name each fill'd his vocal shell,
And on the happy Sound rejoic'd to dwell;
Some sung his Birth, and how discerning Fate
Sav'd Infant Vertue against powerful hate,
Of pois'nous Snakes by young Alcides quell'd,
And Palms that spread the more, the more with-held.
Some sung Seneffe, and early Wonders done
By the bold Youth, Himself a War Alone;
And how his firmer Courage did oppose
His Country's foreign and intestine Foes,
The Lion He who held their Arrows close.
Others sung Perseus, and the injur'd Maid,
Redeem'd by the wing'd Warrior's timely Aid;
Or in mysterious Numbers did unfold
Sad modern truths wrapt up in tales of old,
How Saturn, flush'd with Arbitrary Power,
Design'd his Lawful Issue to devour,
But Jove, (reserv'd for better fate) withstood
The black Contrivance of the doating God;
With Arms he came, His guilty Father fled,
('Twas Italy secur'd his frighted Head)
And by his Flight resign'd his empty Throne
And Tripple Empire to his Worthier Son.
And on the happy Sound rejoic'd to dwell;
Some sung his Birth, and how discerning Fate
Sav'd Infant Vertue against powerful hate,
Of pois'nous Snakes by young Alcides quell'd,
And Palms that spread the more, the more with-held.
Some sung Seneffe, and early Wonders done
By the bold Youth, Himself a War Alone;
7
His Country's foreign and intestine Foes,
The Lion He who held their Arrows close.
Others sung Perseus, and the injur'd Maid,
Redeem'd by the wing'd Warrior's timely Aid;
Or in mysterious Numbers did unfold
Sad modern truths wrapt up in tales of old,
How Saturn, flush'd with Arbitrary Power,
Design'd his Lawful Issue to devour,
But Jove, (reserv'd for better fate) withstood
The black Contrivance of the doating God;
With Arms he came, His guilty Father fled,
('Twas Italy secur'd his frighted Head)
And by his Flight resign'd his empty Throne
And Tripple Empire to his Worthier Son.
Then in one note their Artful force they joyn,
Eager to reach the Victor and the Boyne;
How on the wond'ring Bank the Heroe stood,
Lavishly bold and desperately Good;
Till fate, designing to convince the Brave
That they can dare no more than Heav'n can save,
Let Death approach, and yet with-held the sting,
Wounded the Man, distinguishing the King.
Eager to reach the Victor and the Boyne;
How on the wond'ring Bank the Heroe stood,
Lavishly bold and desperately Good;
Till fate, designing to convince the Brave
That they can dare no more than Heav'n can save,
Let Death approach, and yet with-held the sting,
Wounded the Man, distinguishing the King.
8
They had inlarg'd but found the strain too strong,
And in soft notes allay'd the bolder Song:
Flow, gentle Boyne, (they cry'd) and round thy Bed
For ever may victorious Wreaths be spread;
No more may Travellers desire to know
Where Simois and Granicus did flow;
Nor Rubicon, a poor forgotten Stream,
Be, or the Soldiers rant, or Poet's theme;
All Waters shall unite their Fame in Thee,
Lost in thy Waves as those are in the Sea.
And in soft notes allay'd the bolder Song:
Flow, gentle Boyne, (they cry'd) and round thy Bed
For ever may victorious Wreaths be spread;
No more may Travellers desire to know
Where Simois and Granicus did flow;
Nor Rubicon, a poor forgotten Stream,
Be, or the Soldiers rant, or Poet's theme;
All Waters shall unite their Fame in Thee,
Lost in thy Waves as those are in the Sea.
They breath'd afresh, unwilling to give o'er;
And begg'd thick mists long to conceal the shore;
Smooth was the Liquid Plain; the sleeping Wind,
More to the Sea, than to its Master, kind,
Detain'd a Treasure, which we value more
Than All the Deep e're hid, or Waters bore.
But He, with a Superior Genius born,
Treats Chance with Insolence, and Death with Scorn,
Darkness and Ice in vain obstruct his way,
Holland is near, and Nature must obey;
Charg'd with our hopes the Boat Securely rode,
For Cæsar and His Fortune were the Load.
And begg'd thick mists long to conceal the shore;
Smooth was the Liquid Plain; the sleeping Wind,
More to the Sea, than to its Master, kind,
Detain'd a Treasure, which we value more
Than All the Deep e're hid, or Waters bore.
But He, with a Superior Genius born,
Treats Chance with Insolence, and Death with Scorn,
Darkness and Ice in vain obstruct his way,
Holland is near, and Nature must obey;
Charg'd with our hopes the Boat Securely rode,
For Cæsar and His Fortune were the Load.
9
With eager transport Belgia met her Son,
Yet trembling for the danger He had run;
Till, certain of her Joy, she bow'd her Head,
Confest her Lord, blest his return, and said,
Yet trembling for the danger He had run;
Till, certain of her Joy, she bow'd her Head,
Confest her Lord, blest his return, and said,
If Passion by long Absence does improve,
And makes that Rapture which before was Love,
Think on my old, my intermitted bliss,
And by my former pleasure measure this;
Not by these feeble Pillars which I raise,
Unequal to sustain the Heroe's praise,
Too faint the Colours, and too mean the Art
To represent Your Glories, or my Heart:
These humble Emblems are design'd to show,
Not how we wou'd Reward, but what we Owe.
Here from your Childhood take a short review
How Holland's happiness advanc'd with you;
How her stout Vessel did in Triumph ride,
And mock'd the storms, while Orange was her Guide.
What since has been our Fate—I need not say,
(Ill suiting with the blessings of the day.)
Our better fortune with our Prince was gone,
Conquest was only there where He led on.
Like the Palladium, wheresoe'er you go
You turn all Death and Danger on the Foe.
In you we but too sadly understood
How Angels have their Spheres of doing good,
Else the same Soul which did your Troops possess,
And Crown'd their daring Courage with Success,
Had taught our Fleet to triumph o'er the Main,
And Fleurus had been still a guiltless Plain.
What pity 'tis, ye Gods! an arm and mind
Like Yours, shou'd be to time and place confin'd?
But Thy return shall fix our kinder fate,
For Thee our Councils, Thee our Armies wait;
Discording Princes shall with Thee combine,
And center all their Interests in Thine;
Proud of Thy friendship, shall forego their sway,
As Rome Her great Dictator did obey;
And all united make a Gordian knot,
Which neither Craft shall loose, nor Force shall cut.
And makes that Rapture which before was Love,
Think on my old, my intermitted bliss,
And by my former pleasure measure this;
Not by these feeble Pillars which I raise,
Unequal to sustain the Heroe's praise,
Too faint the Colours, and too mean the Art
To represent Your Glories, or my Heart:
These humble Emblems are design'd to show,
Not how we wou'd Reward, but what we Owe.
Here from your Childhood take a short review
How Holland's happiness advanc'd with you;
How her stout Vessel did in Triumph ride,
And mock'd the storms, while Orange was her Guide.
What since has been our Fate—I need not say,
(Ill suiting with the blessings of the day.)
Our better fortune with our Prince was gone,
Conquest was only there where He led on.
Like the Palladium, wheresoe'er you go
You turn all Death and Danger on the Foe.
10
How Angels have their Spheres of doing good,
Else the same Soul which did your Troops possess,
And Crown'd their daring Courage with Success,
Had taught our Fleet to triumph o'er the Main,
And Fleurus had been still a guiltless Plain.
What pity 'tis, ye Gods! an arm and mind
Like Yours, shou'd be to time and place confin'd?
But Thy return shall fix our kinder fate,
For Thee our Councils, Thee our Armies wait;
Discording Princes shall with Thee combine,
And center all their Interests in Thine;
Proud of Thy friendship, shall forego their sway,
As Rome Her great Dictator did obey;
And all united make a Gordian knot,
Which neither Craft shall loose, nor Force shall cut.
| Epistle to Charles Montague Esq | |