Графични страници
PDF файл

War, our consumption, was their gainful trade :

We inward bled, whilst they prolong'd our pain ;
He fought to end our fighting, and essay'd
To staunch the blood by breathing of the vein.

Swift and resistless through the land he past,

Like that bold Greek who did the East subdue,
And made to battles such heroic haste,
As if on wings of victory he flew.

He fought secure of fortune as of fame :

Still by new maps the island might be shewn,
Of conquests, which he strew'd where-e'er he came,
Thick as the galaxy with stars is sown.

His palms, though under weights they did not stand,

Still thriv’d; no winter could his laurels fade :
Heaven in his portrait Mew'd a workman's hand,
And drew it perfect, yet without a shade.

Peace was the prize of all his toil and care,

Which war had banish'd, and did now restore :
Bologna's walls thus mounted in the air,
To seat themselves more surely than before.

Her safety rescu'd Ireland to him owes ;

And treacherous Scotland to no interest true,
Yet bleft that fate which did his arms dispose
Her land to civilize, as to subdue.


Nor was he like those fears which only shine,

When to pale mariners they storms portend :
He had his calmer influence, and his mien
Did love and majesty together blend.

'Tis true, his count’nance did imprint an awe ;

And naturally all souls to his did bow,
As wands of divination downward draw,
And point to beds where fovereign gold doth grow.

When past all offerings to Feretrian Jove,

He Mars depos’d, and arms to gowns made yield;
Successful councils did him soon approve
As fit for close intrigues, as open field.

To suppliant Holland he vouchlaf'd a peace,

Our once bold rival of the British main,
Now tamely glad her unjust claim to cease,
And buy our friendship with her idol, gain.

Fame of th' asserted sea through Europe blown,

Made France and Spain ambitious of his love ;
Each knew that fide must conquer he would own ;
And for him fiercely, as for empire, Itrove.

No sooner was the Frenchman's cause embrac’d,

Than the light Monsieur the grave Don out-weigh’d: His fortune turn'd the scale where'er 'twas cast; Though Indian inines were in the other laid.


When absent, yet we conquer'd in his right:

For though some meaner artist's skill were shown
In mingling colours, or in placing light ;
Yet still the fair designment was his own.

For from all tempers he could service draw;

The worth of each, with its alloy, he knew,
And, as the confident of nature, saw
How she complexions did divide and brew.

Or he their single virtues did survey,

By intuition in his own large breast,
Where all the rich ideas of them lay,
That were the rule and measure to the rest.

When fuch heroic virtue heaven fets out,

The stars, like commons, fullenly obey;
Because it drains them when it comes about,
And therefore is a tax they seldom pay.

From this high spring our foreign conquests flow,

Which yet more glorious triumphs do portend;
Since their commencement to his arms they owe,
If springs as high as fountains may ascend.

He made us free-men of the continent,

Whom nature did like captives treat before ;
To nobler preys the English lion sent,
And taught him first in Belgian walks to roar.


That old unquestion’d pirate of the land,

Proud Rome with dread the fate of Dunkirk heard ; And trembling with'd behind more Alps to stand, Although an Alexander were her guard.

By his command we boldly cross’d the line,

And bravely fought where southern stars arise ;
We trac'd the far-fetch'd gold unto the mine,
And that which brib’d our fathers made our prize.

Such was our prince; yet own'd a soul above

The highest acts it could produce to show :
Thus poor mechanic arts in public move,
Whilst the deep secrets beyond practice go.

Nor dy'd he when his ebbing fame went less,

But when fresh laurels courted him to live :
He seem'd but to prevent some new success,
As if above what triumphs earth could give.

His latest victories still thickest came,

As, near the center, motion doth increase ;
Till he, press’d down by his own weighty name,
Did, like the vestal, under spoils decease.

But first the ocean as a tribute sent

The giant prince of all her watery herd ;
And th’ille, when her protecting genius went,
Upon his obsequies loud sighs conferr’d.

No civil broils have since his death arose,

But faction now by habit does obey;
And wars have that respect for his repose,
As winds for halcyons, when they breed at sea.

His afhes in a peaceful urn shall rest,

His name a great example stands, to show
How ftrangely high endeavours may be blest,

Where piety and valour jointly go.

ASTRÆ ARE DU X. A Poem on the happy Restoration and Return of

his sacred Majeity CHARLES II, 1660. Jam redit & virgo, redeunt Saturnia regna.” ViRC. The last great age foretoll ly sacred rhimes Reners it's finish'd course : Saturnian times

Roll round again. NO

OW with a general peace the world was blest,

While our's, a world divided from the rest,
A dreadful quiet felt, and worfer far
Than arms, a sulien interval of war:
Thus when black clouds draw down the labouring skies,
Ere yet abroad the winged thunder flies,
An horrid stillness firt invadies the

And in that silence we the tempest fear.
Th’ ambitious Swede, like restless billows toit,
On this hand gaining what on that he loft,



« ПредишнаНапред »