Makes them falute so rudely breast to breast,
That their encounter seems too rough for jeft;
They ply their feet, and ftill the reftlefs ball,
Toft to and fro, is urged by them all:
So fares the doubtful barge 'twixt tide and winds;
And like effect of their contention finds.
Yet the bold BRITONS ftill fecurely row'd;
CHARLES and his virtue was their facred load:
Than which a greater pledge heav'n could not give,
That the good boat this tempeft should out-live.
But ftorms increase; and now no hope of grace
Among them shines, fave in the PRINCE's face;
The reft refign their courage, skill, and fight,
To danger, horror, and unwelcome night.
The gentle veffel, (wont with ftate and pride
On the smooth back of filver THAMES to ride,)
Wanders astonish'd in the angry Main,
As TITAN's car did, while the golden rein
Fill'd the young hand of his * advent'rous fon,
When the whole world an equal hazard run
To this of ours, the light of whose defire
Waves threaten now, as that was fcar'd by fire.
Th' impatient fea grows impotent, and raves,
That, night affifting, his impetuous waves
Should find refiftance from so light a thing;
These furges ruin, those our safety bring.
Th' oppreffed veffel doth the charge abide,
Only because affail'd on ev'ry fide:
So men with rage and passion set on fire,
Trembling for hafte, impeach their mad defire.
The pale IBERIAN s had expir'd with fear,
But that their wonder did divert their care;
To fee the PRINCE with danger mov'd no more,
Than with the pleasures of their Court before:
God-like his courage feem'd, whom nor delight
Could foften, nor the face of Death affright:
Next to the pow'r of making tempests cease,
Was in that ftorm to have so calm a peace.
Great MARO cou'd no greater tempeft feign,
When the loud winds ufurping on the Main,
For angry JuNo, labor'd to destroy
The hated reliques of confounded TROY:
His bold ENEAS, on like billows toft
In a tall ship, and all his country lost,
Diffolves with fear; and, both his hands upheld,
Proclaims them happy whom the GREEKS had quell'd
In honorable fight: our Hero fet
In a fmall fhallop, Fortune in his debt,
So near a hope of crowns and fceptres, more
Than ever PRIAM, when he flourish'd, wore;
His loins yet full of ungot Princes, all
His glory in the bud, lets nothing fall
That argues fear if any thought annoys
The Gallant Youth, 'tis love's untafted joys;
And dear remembrance of that fatal glance,
For which he lately pawn'd his heart in FRANCE;
Where he had seen a brighter Nymph, than * fhe
That fprung out of his prefent foe, the fea.
That noble ardor, more than mortal fire,
The conquer'd ocean could not make expire;
Nor angry THETIS raise her waves above
Th' heroic PRINCE's courage, or his love:
'Twas indignation, and not fear he felt,
The fhrine fhou'd perish, where that image dwelt.
Ah LovE forbid! the nobleft of thy train
Should not furvive to let her know his pain:
Who nor his peril minding, nor his flame,
Is entertain'd with some less serious game,
Among the bright Nymphs of the GALLICK Court;
All highly born, obfequious to her sport:
They roses seem, which, in their early pride,
But half reveal, and half their beauties hide :
She the glad morning, which her beams does throw
Upon their smiling leaves, and gilds them fo:
Like bright AURORA, whose refulgent ray
Foretels the fervor of enfuing day;
And warns the shepherd with his flocks retreat
To leafie fhadows, from the threaten'd heat.
From CUPID's ftring of many shafts that fled, Wing'd with thofe plumes which noble FAME had shed, As through the wond'ring world she flew, and told Of his adventures, haughty, brave, and bold; Some had already touch'd the Royal Maid;
But Love's first summons feldom are obey'd:
Light was the wound, the PRINCE's care unknown,
She might not, would not, yet reveal her own.
His glorious name had so poffefst her ears,
That with delight thofe antique tales she hears
Of JASON, THESE US, and fuch Worthies old,
As with the story best resemblance hold.
And now the views, as on the wall it hung,
What old MUSA US fo divinely fung:
Which art with life and love did so inspire,
That she discerns, and favours that defire,
Which there provokes th' advent'rous youth to swim,
And in LEANDER's danger pities him;
Whose not new love alone, but fortune, feeks
To frame his story like that amorous GREEK'S.
For from the stern of fome good Ship appears
A friendly light, which moderates their fears:
New courage from reviving hope they take,
And climbing o'er the Waves, that taper make;
On which the hope of all their lives depends,
As his on that fair HERO's hand extends.
The ship at anchor, like a fixed Rock,
Breaks the proud billows which her large fides knock;
Whose rage restrained, foaming higher swells,
And from her port the weary barge repels,
Threatning to make her, forced out again,
Repeat the dangers of the troubled Main.
Twice was the cable hurl'd in vain; the Fates
Would not be moved for our fifter States:
For ENGLAND is the third fuccessful throw,
And then the Genius of that land they know:
Whofe PRINCE must be (as their own books devise)
Lord of the scene where now his danger lies.
Well fung the ROMAN bard; "all human things
"Of dearest value hang on flender ftrings."
O fee the then fole hope, and in defign
Of Heav'n our joy, fupported by a line!
Which for that inftant was Heav'n's care above,
The chain that's fixed to the throne of JovE,
On which the fabric of our world depends;
One link diffolv'd, the whole creation ends.
Of His MAJESTY's receiving the News of the Duke of BUCKINGHAM'S Death.
O earnest with thy GOD! Can no new care,
No fenfe of danger interrupt thy pray'r?
The facred wrestler, till a bleffing giv'n,
Quits not his hold, but halting conquers heav'n:
Nor was the stream of thy devotion stop'd,
When from the body fuch a limb was lop'd,
As to thy present state was no lefs maim;
Tho' thy wife choice has fince repair'd the fame.
Bold HOM ER durft not so great virtue feign
In his * best pattern: of PATRO CLUS slain,
With such amazement as weak mothers use,
And frantic gefture, he receives the news.
Yet fell his darling by th' impartial chance
Of war, impos'd by Royal HECTOR's lance:
Thine in full peace, and by a vulgar hand
Torn from thy bosom, left his high command.
The famous painter cou'd allow no place
For private forrow, in a Prince's face:
Yet, that his piece might not exceed belief,
He caft a veil upon supposed grief.
'Twas want of fuch a precedent as this,
Made the old heathen frame their Gods amifs.
Their PHOEBU s fhou'd not act a fonder part
For the
fair boy, than he did for his hart:
Nor blame for HYACINTH Us' fate his own,
That kept from him wifh'd death, had'st thou been
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