Annus mirabilis, The year of wonders, 1666 an historical poem containing the progress and various successes of our naval war with Holland, under the conduct of His Highness Prince Rupert, and His Grace the Duke of Albemarl : and describing the fire of London / by John Dryden, Esq.
         Dryden, John, 1631-1700.
      
       
         
           1667
        
      
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             Annus mirabilis, The year of wonders, 1666 an historical poem containing the progress and various successes of our naval war with Holland, under the conduct of His Highness Prince Rupert, and His Grace the Duke of Albemarl : and describing the fire of London / by John Dryden, Esq.
             Dryden, John, 1631-1700.
          
           [25], 77 p. : port.
           
             Printed for Henry Herringman ...,
             London :
             1667.
          
           
             First issue. Cf. Wing.
             "Imprimatur, Roger L'Estrange, Novem. 22, 1666"--P. [25].
             Errata: p. [24].
             Reproduction of original in Huntington Library.
          
        
      
    
     
       
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           Great Britain -- History -- Charles II, 1660-1685 -- Poetry.
           London (England) -- Fire, 1666 -- Poetry.
        
      
    
     
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               Mr
               Iohn
               Dryden
            
          
        
      
       
         
         
           
             ANNVS
             MIRABILIS
          
           :
           The
           Year
           of
           WONDERS
           ,
           1666.
           
        
         
           AN
           HISTORICAL
           POEM
           :
           CONTAINING
           The
           Progress
           and
           various
           Successes
           of
           our
           Naval
           War
           with
           Holland
           ,
           under
           the
           Conduct
           of
           His
           Highness
           Prince
           RUPERT
           ,
           and
           His
           Grace
           the
           Duke
           of
           ALBEMAR●
           .
        
         
           And
           describing
           THE
           FIRE
           OF
           LONDON
           .
        
         
           By
           JOHN
           DRYDEN
           ,
           
             Esq
          
        
         
           
             〈…〉
             ,
             an
             homines
             latius
             impera●●
             〈◊〉
             .
          
           
             Trajan
             .
             Imperator
             .
             ad
             Pl●n
             .
          
        
         
           
             
          
           
             V●rg
             
          
        
         
           London
           ,
           Printed
           for
           
             Henry
             Herringman
          
           ,
           at
           the
           Anchor
           in
           the
           Lower
           Walk
           of
           the
           
             N●●
             Exchange
          
           .
           1667.
           
        
      
       
         
         
         
           TO
           THE
           METROPOLIS
           OF
           GREAT
           BRITAIN
           ,
           The
           most
           Renowned
           and
           late
           Flourishing
           CITY
           of
           LONDON
           ,
           I●
           its
           REPRESENTATIVES
           The
           LORD
           MAYOR
           and
           Court
           of
           ALDERMEN
           ,
           the
           SHERIFS
           and
           COMMON
           COUNCIL
           of
           it
           .
        
         
           AS
           perhaps
           I
           am
           the
           first
           who
           ever
           presented
           a
           work
           of
           this
           nature
           to
           the
           Metropolis
           of
           any
           Nation
           ,
           so
           is
           it
           likewise
           consonant
           to
           Justice
           ,
           that
           he
           who
           was
           to
           give
           the
           first
           Example
           of
           such
           a
           Dedication
           should
           begin
           it
           
           with
           that
           City
           ,
           which
           has
           set
           a
           pattern
           to
           all
           others
           of
           true
           Loyalty
           ,
           invincible
           Courage
           and
           unshaken
           Constancy
           .
           Other
           Cities
           have
           been
           prais'd
           for
           the
           same
           Virtues
           ,
           but
           I
           am
           much
           deceiv'd
           if
           any
           have
           so
           dearly
           purchas'd
           their
           reputation
           ;
           their
           fame
           has
           been
           won
           them
           by
           cheaper
           trials
           then
           an
           expensive
           ,
           though
           necessary
           ,
           War
           ,
           a
           consuming
           Pestilence
           ,
           and
           a
           more
           consuming
           Fire
           .
           To
           submit
           your selves
           with
           that
           humility
           to
           the
           Judgments
           of
           Heaven
           ,
           and
           at
           the
           same
           time
           to
           raise
           your selves
           with
           that
           
           vigour
           above
           all
           humane
           Enemies
           ;
           to
           be
           combated
           at
           once
           from
           above
           and
           from
           below
           ,
           to
           be
           struck
           down
           and
           to
           triumph
           ;
           I
           know
           not
           whether
           such
           trials
           have
           been
           ever
           parallel'd
           in
           any
           Nation
           ,
           the
           resolution
           and
           successes
           of
           them
           never
           can
           be
           .
           Never
           had
           Prince
           or
           People
           more
           mutual
           reason
           to
           love
           each
           other
           ,
           if
           suffering
           for
           each
           other
           can
           indear
           affection
           .
           You
           have
           come
           together
           a
           pair
           of
           matchless
           Lovers
           ,
           through
           many
           difficulties
           ;
           He
           ,
           through
           a
           long
           Exile
           ,
           various
           traverses
           of
           Fortune
           ,
           and
           the
           interposition
           
           of
           many
           Rivals
           ,
           who
           violently
           ravish'd
           and
           with-held
           You
           from
           Him
           :
           And
           certainly
           you
           have
           had
           your
           share
           in
           sufferings
           .
           But
           Providence
           has
           cast
           upon
           you
           want
           of
           Trade
           ,
           that
           you
           might
           appear
           bountiful
           to
           your
           Country's
           necessities
           ;
           and
           the
           rest
           of
           your
           afflictions
           are
           not
           more
           the
           effects
           of
           God's
           displeasure
           ,
           (
           frequent
           examples
           of
           them
           having
           been
           in
           the
           Reign
           of
           the
           most
           excellent
           Princes
           )
           then
           occasions
           for
           the
           manifesting
           of
           your
           Christian
           and
           Civil
           virtues
           .
           To
           you
           therefore
           this
           Year
           of
           
           Wonders
           is
           justly
           dedicated
           ,
           because
           you
           have
           made
           it
           so
           .
           You
           who
           are
           to
           stand
           a
           wonder
           to
           all
           Years
           and
           Ages
           ,
           and
           who
           have
           built
           your selves
           an
           immortal
           Monument
           on
           your
           own
           ruines
           .
           You
           are
           now
           a
           Phoenix
           in
           her
           ashes
           ,
           and
           ,
           as
           far
           as
           Humanity
           can
           approach
           ,
           a
           great
           Emblem
           of
           the
           suffering
           Deity
           .
           But
           Heaven
           never
           made
           so
           much
           Piety
           and
           Vertue
           to
           leave
           it
           miserable
           .
           I
           have
           heard
           indeed
           of
           some
           vertuous
           persons
           who
           have
           ended
           unfortunately
           ,
           but
           never
           of
           any
           vertuous
           Nation
           :
           Providence
           is
           engag'd
           too
           deeply
           ,
           when
           
           the
           cause
           becomes
           so
           general
           .
           And
           I
           cannot
           imagine
           it
           has
           resolv'd
           the
           ruine
           of
           that
           people
           at
           home
           ,
           which
           it
           has
           blessed
           abroad
           with
           such
           successes
           .
           I
           am
           therefore
           to
           conclude
           ,
           that
           your
           sufferings
           are
           at
           an
           end
           ;
           and
           that
           one
           part
           of
           my
           Poem
           has
           not
           been
           more
           an
           History
           of
           your
           destruction
           ,
           then
           the
           other
           a
           Prophecy
           of
           your
           restoration
           .
           The
           accomplishment
           of
           which
           happiness
           ,
           as
           it
           is
           the
           wish
           of
           all
           true
           English-men
           ,
           so
           is
           by
           none
           more
           passionately
           desired
           then
           by
        
         
           
             The
             greatest
             of
             your
             Admirers
             ,
             and
             most
             humble
             of
             your
             Servants
             ,
             JOHN
             DRYDEN
             .
          
        
      
       
         
         
           An
           account
           of
           the
           ensuing
           Poem
           ,
           in
           a
           LETTER
           to
           th●
           Honorable
           ,
           Sir
           ROBERT
           HOVVARD
           .
        
         
           
             SIR
             ,
          
        
         
           I
           Am
           so
           many
           ways
           oblig'd
           to
           you
           ,
           and
           so
           little
           able
           to
           return
           your
           favours
           ,
           that
           ,
           like
           those
           who
           owe
           too
           much
           ,
           I
           can
           onely
           live
           by
           getting
           farther
           into
           your
           debt
           .
           You
           have
           not
           onely
           been
           careful
           of
           my
           Fortune
           ,
           which
           was
           the
           effect
           of
           your
           Nobleness
           ,
           but
           you
           have
           been
           sollicitous
           of
           my
           Reputation
           ,
           which
           is
           that
           of
           your
           Kindnes●
           .
           It
           is
           not
           long
           since
           I
           gave
           you
           the
           trouble
           of
           perusing
           a
           Play
           for
           me
           ,
           and
           now
           ,
           instead
           of
           an
           acknowl●dgment
           ,
           I
           have
           given
           you
           a
           greater
           ,
           in
           the
           correction
           of
           a
           Poem
           .
           But
           since
           you
           are
           to
           bear
           this
           persecution
           ,
           I
           will
           at
           least
           give
           you
           the
           encouragement
           of
           a
           Martyr
           ,
           you
           could
           never
           suffer
           in
           a
           nobler
           cause
           .
           For
           I
           have
           chosen
           the
           most
           heroick
           Subject
           which
           any
           Poet
           could
           desire
           :
           I
           have
           t●ken
           upon
           me
           to
           d●scribe
           the
           motives
           ,
           the
           beginning
           ,
           progr●ss
           and
           successes
           of
           a
           most
           just
           and
           necess●ry
           War
           ;
           in
           it
           ,
           the
           care
           ,
           management
           and
           prudence
           of
           our
           King
           ;
           the
           conduct
           and
           valour
           of
           a
           Royal
           Admiral
           ,
           and
           of
           two
           incomparable
           Generals
           ;
           the
           invincible
           courage
           of
           our
           Captains
           and
           Sea
           men
           ,
           and
           three
           glorious
           Victories
           ,
           the
           result
           of
           all
           .
           After
           this
           I
           have
           ,
           in
           the
           Fire
           ,
           the
           most
           deplorable
           ,
           but
           withall
           the
           greatest
           Argument
           that
           can
           be
           imagin'd
           :
           the
           destructio●
           being
           so
           swift
           ,
           so
           sudden
           ,
           to
           vast
           and
           miserable
           ,
           as
           nothing
           can
           parallel
           in
           Story
           .
           The
           former
           part
           of
           this
           Poem
           ,
           relating
           to
           the
           War
           ,
           is
           but
           a
           due
           expiation
           for
           my
           not
           serving
           my
           King
           and
           Country
           in
           it
           .
           All
           Gentlemen
           are
           almost
           
           oblig'd
           to
           it
           :
           And
           I
           know
           no
           reason
           we
           should
           give
           that
           advantage
           to
           the
           Commonalty
           of
           England
           to
           be
           for
           most
           in
           brave
           actions
           ,
           which
           the
           Noblesse
           of
           France
           would
           never
           suffer
           in
           their
           Peasants
           .
           I
           should
           not
           have
           written
           this
           but
           to
           a
           Person
           ,
           who
           has
           been
           ever
           forward
           to
           appear
           in
           all
           employments
           ,
           whither
           his
           Honour
           and
           Generosity
           have
           call'd
           him
           .
           The
           latter
           part
           of
           my
           Poem
           ,
           which
           describes
           the
           Fire
           ,
           I
           owe
           first
           to
           the
           Piety
           and
           Fatherly
           Affection
           of
           our
           Monarch
           to
           his
           suffering
           Subjects
           ;
           an●
           ,
           in
           the
           second
           place
           ,
           to
           the
           courage
           ,
           loyalty
           and
           magnanimity
           of
           the
           City
           :
           both
           which
           were
           so
           conspicuous
           ,
           that
           I
           have
           wanted
           words
           to
           celebrate
           them
           as
           they
           deserve
           .
           I
           have
           call'd
           my
           Poem
           Historical
           ,
           not
           Epick
           ,
           though
           both
           the
           Actions
           and
           Actors
           are
           as
           much
           Heroick
           ,
           as
           any
           Poem
           can
           contain
           .
           But
           since
           the
           Action
           is
           not
           properly
           one
           ,
           nor
           that
           accomplish'd
           in
           the
           last
           successes
           ,
           I
           have
           judg'd
           it
           too
           bold
           a
           Title
           for
           a
           few
           Stanza's
           ,
           which
           are
           little
           more
           in
           number
           then
           a
           single
           Iliad
           ,
           or
           the
           longest
           of
           the
           Aen●ids
           .
           For
           this
           reason
           ,
           (
           I
           mean
           not
           of
           length
           ,
           but
           broken
           action
           ,
           ti'd
           too
           severely
           to
           the
           Laws
           of
           History
           )
           I
           am
           apt
           to
           agree
           with
           those
           who
           rank
           Lucan
           rather
           among
           Historians
           in
           Verse
           ,
           then
           Epique
           Poets
           :
           In
           whose
           room
           ,
           if
           I
           am
           not
           deceiv'd
           ,
           
             Silius
             Italicus
          
           ,
           though
           a
           worse
           Writer
           ,
           may
           more
           justly
           be
           admitted
           .
           I
           have
           chosen
           to
           write
           my
           Poem
           in
           Quatrains
           or
           Stanza's
           of
           four
           in
           alternate
           rhyme
           ,
           because
           I
           have
           ever
           judg'd
           them
           more
           noble
           ,
           and
           of
           greater
           dignity
           ,
           both
           fro
           the
           sound
           and
           number
           ,
           then
           any
           other
           Verse
           in
           use
           amongst
           us
           ;
           in
           which
           I
           am
           sure
           I
           have
           your
           approbation
           .
           
           The
           learned
           Languages
           have
           ,
           certainly
           ,
           a
           great
           advantage
           of
           us
           ,
           in
           not
           being
           tied
           to
           the
           slavery
           of
           any
           Rhyme
           ;
           and
           were
           less
           constrain'd
           in
           the
           quantity
           of
           every
           syllable
           ,
           which
           they
           might
           vary
           with
           Spondaees
           or
           Dactiles
           ,
           besides
           so
           many
           other
           helps
           of
           Grammatical
           Figures
           ,
           for
           the
           lengthning
           or
           abbreviation
           of
           them
           ,
           then
           the
           Modern
           are
           in
           the
           close
           of
           that
           one
           Syllable
           ,
           which
           often
           confines
           ,
           and
           more
           often
           corrup●s
           the
           sense
           of
           all
           the
           rest
           .
           But
           in
           this
           necessity
           of
           our
           Rhymes
           ,
           I
           have
           always
           found
           the
           couplet
           Verse
           most
           easie
           ,
           (
           though
           not
           so
           proper
           for
           this
           occasion
           )
           for
           there
           the
           work
           is
           sooner
           at
           an
           end
           ,
           every
           two
           lines
           concluding
           the
           labour
           of
           the
           Poet
           :
           but
           in
           Quattrains
           he
           is
           to
           carry
           it
           farther
           on
           ;
           and
           not
           onely
           so
           ,
           but
           to
           bear
           along
           in
           his
           head
           the
           troublesome
           sense
           of
           four
           lines
           together
           .
           For
           those
           who
           write
           correctly
           in
           this
           kind
           must
           needs
           acknowledge
           ,
           that
           the
           last
           line
           of
           the
           Stanza
           is
           to
           be
           consider'd
           in
           the
           composition
           of
           the
           first
           .
           Neither
           can
           we
           give
           our
           s●lves
           the
           liberty
           of
           making
           any
           part
           of
           a
           Verse
           for
           the
           sake
           of
           Rhyme
           ,
           or
           concluding
           with
           a
           word
           which
           is
           not
           currant
           English
           ,
           or
           using
           the
           variety
           of
           Female
           Rhymes
           ,
           all
           which
           our
           Fathers
           practis'd
           ;
           and
           for
           the
           Female
           Rhymes
           ,
           they
           are
           still
           in
           use
           amongst
           other
           Nations
           :
           with
           the
           Italian
           in
           every
           line
           ,
           with
           the
           Spaniard
           promiscuously
           ,
           with
           the
           French
           alternately
           ,
           as
           those
           who
           have
           read
           the
           Alarique
           ,
           the
           Pucelle
           ,
           or
           any
           of
           their
           latter
           Poems
           ,
           will
           agree
           with
           me
           .
           And
           besides
           this
           ,
           they
           write
           in
           Alexandrins
           ,
           or
           Verses
           of
           six
           feet
           ,
           such
           as
           amongst
           us
           is
           the
           old
           Translation
           of
           Homer
           ,
           by
           Chapman
           ;
           all
           which
           ,
           by
           lengthning
           of
           their
           
           Chain
           ,
           makes
           the
           sphere
           of
           their
           activity
           the
           larger
           .
           I
           have
           dwelt
           too
           long
           upon
           the
           choice
           of
           my
           Stanza
           ,
           which
           you
           may
           remember
           is
           much
           better
           defended
           in
           the
           Preface
           to
           Gondibert
           ,
           and
           therefore
           I
           will
           hasten
           to
           acquaint
           you
           with
           my
           endeavours
           in
           the
           writing
           .
           In
           general
           I
           will
           onely
           say
           ,
           I
           have
           never
           yet
           seen
           the
           description
           of
           any
           Naval
           Fight
           in
           the
           proper
           terms
           which
           are
           us'd
           at
           Sea
           ;
           and
           if
           there
           be
           any
           such
           in
           another
           Language
           ,
           as
           that
           of
           Lucan
           in
           the
           third
           of
           his
           Pharsalia
           ,
           yet
           I
           could
           not
           prevail
           my self
           of
           it
           in
           the
           English
           ;
           the
           terms
           of
           Arts
           in
           every
           ●ongue
           bearing
           more
           of
           the
           Idiom
           of
           it
           then
           any
           other
           words
           .
           We
           hear
           ,
           indeed
           ,
           among
           our
           Poets
           ,
           of
           the
           thundring
           of
           Guns
           ,
           the
           smoke
           ,
           the
           disorder
           and
           the
           slaughter
           ;
           but
           all
           these
           are
           common
           notions
           .
           And
           certainly
           as
           those
           who
           ,
           in
           a
           Logical
           dispute
           ,
           keep
           in
           general
           terms
           ,
           would
           hide
           a
           fallacy
           ,
           so
           those
           who
           do
           it
           in
           any
           Poetical
           description
           would
           vail
           their
           ignorance
           .
           
             
               Descriptas
               servare
               vices
               operumque
               colores
            
             
               Cur
               ego
               ,
               si
               nequeo
               ignoroque
               ,
               poeta
               salutor
               ?
            
          
           For
           my
           own
           part
           ,
           if
           I
           had
           little
           knowledge
           of
           the
           Sea
           ,
           yet
           I
           have
           thought
           it
           no
           shame
           to
           learn
           :
           and
           if
           I
           have
           made
           some
           few
           mistakes
           ,
           't
           is
           onely
           ,
           as
           you
           can
           bear
           me
           witness
           ,
           because
           I
           have
           wanted
           opportunity
           to
           correct
           them
           ,
           the
           whole
           Poem
           being
           first
           written
           ,
           and
           now
           sent
           you
           from
           a
           place
           ,
           where
           I
           have
           not
           so
           much
           as
           the
           converse
           of
           any
           Sea-man
           .
           Yet
           ,
           though
           the
           trouble
           I
           had
           in
           writing
           it
           was
           great
           ,
           it
           was
           more
           then
           recompens'd
           by
           the
           pleasure
           ;
           I
           found
           my self
           so
           warm
           in
           celebrating
           the
           praises
           of
           military
           men
           ,
           two
           such
           espe●ially
           
           as
           the
           Prince
           and
           General
           ,
           that
           it
           is
           no
           wonder
           ●f
           they
           inspir'd
           me
           with
           thoughts
           above
           my
           ordinary
           ●evel
           .
           And
           I
           am
           well
           satisfi'd
           ,
           that
           as
           they
           are
           incom●arably
           the
           best
           subject
           I
           have
           ever
           had
           ,
           excepting
           ●nely
           the
           
             Royal
             Family
          
           ;
           so
           also
           ,
           that
           this
           I
           have
           written
           of
           them
           is
           much
           better
           then
           what
           I
           have
           perform'd
           on
           any
           other
           .
           I
           have
           been
           forc'd
           to
           help
           out
           other
           Arguments
           ,
           but
           this
           has
           been
           bountiful
           to
           me
           ;
           ●hey
           have
           been
           low
           and
           barren
           of
           praise
           ,
           and
           I
           have
           ex●alted
           them
           ,
           and
           made
           them
           fruitful
           :
           but
           here
           —
           
             Omnia
             Sponte
             suâ
             reddit
             justissima
             tellus
             .
          
           I
           have
           had
           a
           large
           ,
           a
           fair
           and
           a
           pleasant
           field
           ,
           so
           fertile
           ,
           that
           ,
           without
           my
           cultivating
           ,
           it
           has
           given
           me
           two
           Harvests
           in
           a
           S●mmer
           ,
           and
           in
           both
           oppress'd
           the
           Reaper
           .
           All
           other
           greatness
           in
           subjects
           is
           onely
           counterfeit
           ,
           it
           will
           not
           endure
           the
           test
           of
           danger
           ;
           the
           greatness
           of
           Arms
           is
           onely
           real
           :
           other
           greatness
           burdens
           a
           Nation
           with
           〈◊〉
           weight
           ,
           this
           supports
           it
           with
           its
           strength
           .
           And
           as
           it
           is
           the
           happiness
           of
           the
           Age
           ,
           so
           is
           it
           the
           peculiar
           goodness
           of
           the
           best
           of
           Kings
           ,
           that
           we
           may
           praise
           his
           Subjects
           without
           offending
           him
           :
           doubtless
           it
           proceeds
           from
           a
           just
           confidence
           of
           his
           own
           vertue
           ,
           which
           the
           lustre
           of
           no
           other
           can
           be
           so
           great
           as
           to
           darken
           in
           him
           :
           for
           the
           Good
           or
           the
           Valiant
           are
           never
           safely
           prais'd
           under
           a
           ●ad
           or
           a
           degenerate
           Prince
           .
           But
           to
           retu●n
           from
           this
           digression
           to
           a
           farther
           account
           of
           my
           Poem
           ,
           I
           must
           crave
           leave
           to
           tell
           you
           ,
           that
           as
           I
           have
           endeavour'd
           to
           adorn
           it
           with
           noble
           thoughts
           ,
           so
           much
           more
           to
           express
           those
           thoughts
           with
           elocution
           .
           The
           composition
           of
           all
           Poems
           is
           or
           ought
           to
           be
           of
           wit
           ,
           and
           wit
           in
           the
           Poet
           ,
           or
           
           wit
           writing
           ,
           (
           if
           you
           will
           give
           me
           leave
           to
           use
           a
           Schoo●
           distinction
           )
           is
           no
           other
           then
           the
           faculty
           of
           imaginatio●
           in
           the
           writer
           ,
           which
           ,
           like
           a
           nimble
           Spaniel
           ,
           beats
           ove●
           and
           ranges
           through
           the
           field
           of
           Memory
           ,
           till
           i●
           springs
           the
           Quarry
           it
           hunted
           after
           ;
           or
           ,
           without
           metaphor
           ,
           which
           searches
           over
           all
           the
           memory
           for
           the
           species
           or
           Idea's
           of
           those
           things
           which
           it
           designs
           to
           represent
           ▪
           Wit
           written
           ,
           is
           that
           which
           is
           well
           defin'd
           ,
           the
           happy
           result
           of
           thought
           ,
           or
           product
           of
           that
           imagination
           .
           But
           to
           proceed
           from
           wit
           in
           the
           general
           notion
           of
           it
           ,
           to
           the
           proper
           wit
           of
           an
           Heroick
           or
           Historical
           Poem
           ,
           I
           judge
           it
           chiefly
           to
           consist
           in
           the
           delightful
           imaging
           of
           persons
           ,
           actions
           ,
           p●ssions
           ,
           or
           things
           .
           'T
           is
           not
           the
           jerk
           o●
           sting
           of
           an
           Epigram
           ,
           nor
           the
           seeming
           contradiction
           of
           a
           poor
           Antithesis
           ,
           (
           the
           delight
           of
           an
           ill
           judging
           Audience
           in
           a
           Play
           of
           Rhyme
           )
           nor
           the
           gingle
           of
           a
           more
           poor
           Paranomasia
           :
           neither
           is
           it
           so
           much
           the
           morality
           of
           a
           grave
           sentence
           ,
           affected
           by
           Lucan
           ,
           but
           more
           sparingly
           used
           by
           Virgil
           ;
           but
           it
           is
           some
           lively
           and
           apt
           description
           ,
           dress'd
           in
           such
           colours
           of
           speech
           ,
           that
           it
           sets
           before
           your
           eyes
           the
           absent
           object
           ,
           as
           perfectly
           and
           more
           delightfully
           then
           nature
           .
           So
           then
           ,
           the
           first
           happiness
           of
           the
           Poet's
           imagination
           is
           properly
           Invention
           ,
           or
           finding
           of
           the
           thought
           ;
           the
           second
           is
           Fancy
           ,
           or
           the
           variation
           ,
           driving
           or
           moulding
           of
           that
           thought
           ,
           as
           the
           judgment
           represents
           it
           proper
           to
           the
           subject
           ;
           the
           third
           is
           Elocution
           ,
           or
           the
           Art
           of
           clothing
           and
           adorning
           that
           thought
           so
           found
           and
           varied
           ,
           in
           apt
           ,
           significant
           and
           sounding
           words
           :
           the
           quickness
           of
           the
           Imagination
           is
           seen
           in
           the
           Invention
           ,
           the
           fertility
           in
           the
           Fancy
           ,
           and
           
           the
           accuracy
           in
           the
           Expression
           .
           For
           the
           two
           first
           of
           these
           Ovid
           is
           famous
           amongst
           the
           Poets
           ,
           for
           the
           latter
           
             Virgil.
             Ovid
          
           images
           more
           often
           the
           movements
           and
           affections
           of
           the
           mind
           ,
           either
           combating
           between
           two
           contrary
           passions
           ,
           or
           extremely
           discompos'd
           by
           one
           :
           his
           words
           therefore
           are
           the
           least
           part
           of
           his
           care
           ,
           for
           he
           pictures
           Nature
           in
           disorder
           ,
           with
           which
           the
           study
           and
           choice
           of
           words
           is
           inconsistent
           .
           This
           is
           the
           proper
           wit
           of
           Dialogue
           or
           Discourse
           ,
           and
           ,
           consequently
           ,
           of
           the
           Drama
           ,
           where
           all
           that
           is
           said
           is
           to
           be
           suppos'd
           the
           effect
           of
           sudden
           thought
           ;
           which
           ,
           though
           it
           excludes
           not
           the
           quickness
           of
           wit
           in
           repartees
           ,
           yet
           admits
           not
           a
           too
           curious
           election
           of
           words
           ,
           too
           frequent
           allusions
           ,
           or
           use
           of
           Tropes
           ,
           or
           ,
           in
           fine
           ,
           any
           thing
           that
           showes
           remoteness
           of
           thought
           ,
           or
           labour
           in
           the
           Writer
           .
           On
           the
           other
           side
           ,
           Virgil
           speaks
           not
           so
           often
           to
           us
           in
           the
           person
           of
           another
           ,
           like
           Ovid
           ,
           but
           in
           his
           own
           ,
           he
           relates
           almost
           all
           things
           as
           from
           himself
           ,
           and
           thereby
           gains
           more
           liberty
           then
           the
           other
           ,
           to
           express
           his
           thoughts
           with
           all
           the
           graces
           of
           elocution
           ,
           to
           write
           more
           figuratively
           ,
           and
           to
           confess
           ,
           as
           well
           the
           labour
           as
           the
           force
           of
           his
           imagination
           .
           Though
           he
           describes
           his
           Dido
           well
           and
           naturally
           ,
           in
           the
           violence
           of
           her
           passions
           ,
           yet
           he
           must
           yield
           in
           that
           to
           the
           Myrrha
           ,
           the
           Biblis
           ,
           the
           Althaea
           ,
           of
           Ovid
           ;
           for
           ,
           as
           great
           an
           admirer
           of
           him
           as
           I
           am
           ,
           I
           must
           acknowledge
           ,
           that
           ,
           if
           I
           see
           not
           more
           of
           their
           Souls
           then
           I
           see
           of
           Dido's
           ,
           at
           least
           I
           have
           a
           greater
           concernment
           for
           them
           :
           and
           that
           convinces
           me
           that
           Ovid
           has
           touch'd
           those
           tender
           strokes
           more
           delica●ely
           then
           Virgil
           could
           .
           But
           when
           Action
           
           or
           Persons
           are
           to
           be
           describ'd
           ,
           when
           any
           such
           Image
           is
           to
           beset
           before
           u●
           ,
           how
           bold
           ,
           how
           maste●ly
           are
           the
           strokes
           of
           Virgil
           !
           we
           see
           the
           objects
           he
           represents
           us
           with
           in
           their
           native
           figures
           ,
           in
           their
           proper
           motion●
           ;
           but
           we
           so
           see
           them
           ,
           as
           our
           own
           eyes
           could
           never
           have
           beheld
           them
           so
           beautiful
           in
           themselves
           .
           We
           see
           the
           Soul
           of
           the
           Poet
           ,
           like
           that
           universal
           one
           of
           which
           he
           speaks
           ,
           informing
           and
           moving
           through
           all
           his
           ●ictures
           ,
           
             Totamque
             in●usa
             per
             artus
             mens
             agitat
             motem
             ,
             &
             magno
             se
             corpore
             miscet
          
           ;
           we
           behold
           him
           embellishing
           his
           Images
           ,
           as
           he
           makes
           Venus
           breathing
           beauty
           upon
           her
           son
           .
           Aeneas
           .
        
         
           
             —
             lumenque
             juventae
          
           
             Purpureum
             ,
             &
             laetos
             oculis
             afflârat
             honores
             :
          
           
             Quale
             manus
             addunt
             Ebori
             decus
             ,
             aut
             ubi
             flavo
          
           
             Argentum
             ,
             pariusve
             lapis
             circundatur
             auro
             .
          
        
         
           See
           his
           ●empest
           ,
           his
           Funeral
           ●ports
           ,
           his
           Combat
           of
           Turnus
           and
           Aeneas
           ,
           and
           in
           his
           Georgicks
           ,
           which
           I
           esteem
           the
           Divinest
           part
           of
           all
           this
           writings
           ,
           the
           Plague
           ,
           the
           Country
           ,
           the
           Battle
           of
           Bulls
           ,
           the
           labour
           of
           the
           Bees
           ,
           and
           those
           many
           other
           excellent
           Images
           of
           Nature
           ,
           most
           of
           which
           are
           neither
           great
           in
           themselves
           ,
           nor
           have
           any
           natural
           ornament
           to
           bear
           them●
           up
           :
           but
           the
           words
           wherewith
           he
           describes
           them
           are
           so
           excellent
           ,
           that
           it
           might
           be
           well
           appli'd
           to
           him
           which
           was
           said
           by
           
             Ovid
             ,
             Materiam
             superabat●
             opus
          
           :
           the
           very
           sound
           of
           his
           words
           has
           often
           somewhat
           that
           i●
           connatural
           to
           the
           subject
           ,
           and
           while
           we
           read
           him
           ,
           we
           sit
           ,
           as
           in
           a
           ●lay
           ,
           beholding
           the
           Scenes
           of
           what
           he
           represents
           .
           To
           perform
           this
           ,
           he
           made
           frequent
           use
           of
           Tropes
           
           which
           you
           know
           change
           the
           nature
           of
           a
           known
           word
           ,
           by
           applying
           it
           to
           some
           other
           signification
           :
           and
           this
           is
           it
           which
           Horace
           means
           in
           this
           Epistle
           to
           the
           Pisos
           .
           
             
               Dixeris
               egregie
               notum
               si
               callida
               verbum
            
             
               Reddiderit
               junctura
               novum
               —
            
          
           But
           I
           am
           sensible
           I
           have
           presum'd
           too
           far
           ,
           to
           entertain
           you
           with
           a
           rude
           discourse
           of
           that
           Art
           ,
           which
           you
           both
           know
           so
           well
           ,
           and
           put
           into
           practise
           with
           so
           much
           happiness
           .
           Yet
           before
           I
           leave
           Virgil
           ,
           I
           must
           own
           the
           vanity
           to
           tell
           you
           ,
           and
           by
           you
           the
           world
           ,
           that
           he
           has
           been
           my
           Master
           in
           this
           Poem
           :
           I
           have
           followed
           him
           every
           where
           ,
           I
           know
           not
           with
           what
           success
           ,
           but
           I
           am
           sure
           with
           diligence
           enough
           :
           my
           Images
           are
           many
           of
           them
           copied
           from
           him
           ,
           and
           the
           rest
           are
           imitations
           of
           him
           .
           My
           expressions
           also
           are
           as
           near
           as
           the
           Idioms
           of
           the
           two
           Languages
           would
           admit
           of
           in
           translation
           .
           And
           this
           ,
           Sir
           ,
           I
           have
           done
           with
           that
           boldness
           ,
           for
           which
           I
           will
           stand
           accomptable
           to
           any
           of
           our
           little
           Criticks
           ,
           who
           ,
           perhaps
           ,
           are
           not
           better
           acquainted
           with
           him
           then
           I
           am
           .
           Upon
           your
           first
           perusal
           of
           this
           Poem
           ,
           you
           have
           taken
           notice
           of
           some
           words
           which
           I
           have
           innovated
           (
           if
           it
           be
           too
           bold
           for
           me
           to
           say
           re●in'd
           )
           upon
           his
           Latin
           ;
           which
           ,
           as
           I
           offer
           not
           to
           introduce
           into
           English
           prose
           ,
           so
           I
           hope
           they
           are
           neither
           improper
           ,
           nor
           altogether
           unelegant
           in
           Verse
           ;
           and
           ,
           in
           this
           ,
           Horace
           will
           again
           defend
           me
           .
           
             
               Et
               nova
               ,
               ●fictaque
               nuper
               habebunt
               verba
               fidem
               ,
               si
            
             
               Graeco
               fonte
               cadant
               ,
               parcè
               detorta
               —
            
          
           The
           inference
           is
           exceeding
           plain
           ;
           for
           if
           a
           Roman
           Poet
           might
           have
           liberty
           to
           coin
           a
           word
           ,
           supposing
           onely
           that
           
           it
           was
           derived
           from
           the
           Greek
           ,
           we
           put
           into
           a
           Latin
           termination
           ,
           and
           that
           he
           us'd
           this
           liberty
           but
           seldom
           ,
           and
           with
           modesty
           :
           How
           much
           more
           justly
           may
           I
           challenge
           that
           privilege
           to
           do
           it
           with
           the
           same
           praerequisits
           ,
           from
           the
           best
           and
           most
           judicious
           of
           Latin
           Writers
           ?
           In
           some
           places
           ,
           where
           either
           the
           fancy
           ,
           or
           the
           words
           ,
           were
           his
           ,
           or
           any
           others
           ,
           I
           have
           noted
           it
           in
           the
           Margin
           ,
           that
           I
           might
           not
           seem
           a
           Plagiary
           :
           in
           others
           I
           have
           neglected
           it
           ,
           to
           avoid
           as
           well
           the
           tediousness
           ,
           as
           the
           affectation
           of
           doing
           it
           t●o
           often
           .
           Such
           descriptions
           or
           images
           ,
           well
           wrought
           ,
           which
           I
           promise
           no●
           for
           mine
           ,
           are
           ,
           as
           I
           have
           said
           ,
           the
           adequate
           delight
           of
           heroick
           Poesie
           ,
           for
           they
           beget
           admiration
           ,
           which
           is
           its
           proper
           object
           ;
           as
           the
           images
           of
           the
           Burlesque
           ,
           which
           is
           contrary
           to
           this
           ,
           by
           the
           same
           reason
           beget
           laughter
           ;
           for
           the
           one
           shows
           Nature
           beautified
           ,
           as
           in
           the
           picture
           of
           a
           fair
           Woman
           ,
           which
           we
           all
           admire
           ;
           the
           other
           shows
           her
           deformed
           ,
           as
           in
           that
           of
           a
           Lazar
           ,
           or
           of
           a
           fool
           with
           distorted
           face
           and
           antique
           gestures
           ,
           at
           which
           we
           cannot
           forbear
           to
           laugh
           ,
           because
           it
           is
           a
           deviation
           from
           Nature
           .
           But
           though
           the
           same
           images
           serve
           equally
           for
           the
           Epique
           Poesie
           ,
           and
           for
           the
           Historique
           and
           Panegyrique
           ,
           which
           are
           branches
           of
           it
           ,
           yet
           a
           several
           sort
           of
           Sculpture
           is
           to
           be
           used
           in
           them
           :
           if
           some
           of
           them
           are
           to
           be
           like
           those
           of
           
             Juvenal
             ,
             Stantes
             in
             curribus
             Aemiliani
             ,
          
           Heroes
           drawn
           in
           their
           triumphal
           Chariots
           ,
           and
           in
           their
           full
           proportion
           ;
           others
           are
           to
           be
           like
           that
           of
           
             Virgil
             ,
             Spi●antia
             mollius
             aera
          
           :
           there
           is
           somewhat
           more
           of
           s●ftness
           and
           tenderness
           to
           be
           shown
           in
           them
           .
           You
           will
           soon
           find
           I
           write
           not
           this
           without
           concern
           .
           
           Some
           who
           have
           seen
           a
           paper
           of
           Verses
           which
           I
           wrote
           last
           year
           to
           her
           Highness
           the
           Dutchess
           ,
           have
           accus'd
           them
           of
           that
           onely
           thing
           I
           could
           defend
           in
           them
           ;
           they
           have
           said
           I
           did
           
             humi
             serpere
          
           ,
           that
           I
           wa●ted
           not
           onely
           height
           of
           fancy
           ,
           but
           dignity
           of
           words
           to
           set
           it
           off
           ;
           I
           might
           well
           answer
           with
           that
           of
           
             Horace
             ,
             Nunc
             non
             erat
             his
             locus
             ,
          
           I
           knew
           I
           address'd
           them
           to
           a
           Lady
           ,
           and
           accordingly
           I
           affected
           the
           softness
           of
           expression
           ,
           and
           the
           smoothness
           of
           measure
           ,
           rather
           then
           the
           height
           of
           thought
           ;
           and
           in
           what
           I
           did
           endeavour
           ,
           it
           is
           no
           vanity
           to
           say
           ,
           I
           have
           succeeded
           ,
           I
           detest
           arrogance
           ,
           but
           there
           is
           some
           difference
           betwixt
           that
           and
           a
           just
           defence
           .
           But
           I
           will
           not
           farther
           bribe
           your
           candour
           ,
           or
           the
           Readers
           .
           I
           leave
           them
           to
           speak
           for
           me
           ,
           and
           ,
           if
           they
           can
           ,
           to
           make
           out
           that
           character
           ,
           not
           pretending
           to
           a
           greater
           ,
           which
           I
           have
           given
           them
           .
        
      
       
         
           Verses
           to
           her
           Highness
           the
           DUTCHESS
           ,
           on
           the
           memorable
           Victory
           gain'd
           by
           the
           DUKE
           against
           the
           Hollanders
           ,
           June
           the
           3.
           1665.
           and
           on
           Her
           Iourney
           afterwards
           into
           the
           North.
           
        
         
           
             MADAM
             ,
          
        
         
           WHen
           ,
           for
           our
           ●akes
           ,
           your
           Heroe
           you
           resign'd
        
         
           To
           swelling
           Seas
           ,
           and
           every
           faithless
           wind
           ;
        
         
           When
           you
           releas'd
           his
           courage
           ,
           and
           set
           free
        
         
           A
           valour
           fatal
           to
           the
           Enemy
           ,
        
         
         
           You
           lodg'd
           your
           Countries
           carès
           within
           your
           breast
           ;
        
         
           (
           The
           mansion
           where
           soft
           Love
           should
           onely
           rest
           :
           )
        
         
           And
           ere
           our
           foes
           abroad
           were
           overcome
           ,
        
         
           The
           noblest
           conquest
           you
           had
           gain'd
           at
           home
           .
        
         
           Ah
           ,
           what
           concerns
           did
           both
           your
           Souls
           divide
           !
        
         
           Your
           Honour
           gave
           us
           what
           your
           Love
           deni'd
           :
        
         
           And
           't
           was
           for
           him
           much
           easier
           to
           subdue
        
         
           Those
           foes
           he
           fought
           with
           ,
           then
           to
           part
           from
           you
           .
        
         
           That
           glorious
           day
           ,
           which
           two
           such
           Navies
           saw
           ,
        
         
           As
           each
           ,
           unmatch'd
           ,
           might
           to
           the
           world
           give
           Law.
        
         
           Neptune
           ,
           yet
           doubtful
           whom
           he
           should
           obey
           ,
        
         
           Held
           to
           them
           both
           the
           Trident
           of
           the
           Sea
           :
        
         
           The
           winds
           were
           hush'd
           ,
           the
           waves
           in
           ranks
           were
           cast
           ,
        
         
           As
           awfully
           as
           when
           God's
           people
           past
           :
        
         
           Those
           ,
           yet
           uncertain
           on
           whose
           sails
           to
           blow
           ,
        
         
           These
           ,
           where
           the
           wealth
           of
           Nations
           ought
           to
           flow
           .
        
         
           Then
           with
           the
           Duke
           your
           Highness
           rul'd
           the
           day
           :
        
         
           While
           all
           the
           brave
           did
           his
           command
           obey
           .
        
         
           The
           fair
           and
           pious
           under
           you
           did
           pray
           .
        
         
           How
           pow'rful
           are
           chast
           vows
           !
           the
           wind
           and
           tyde
        
         
           You
           brib'd
           to
           combat
           on
           the
           English
           side
           .
        
         
           Thus
           to
           your
           much
           lov'd
           Lord
           you
           did
           convey
        
         
           An
           unknown
           succour
           ,
           sent
           the
           nearest
           way
           .
        
         
           New
           vigour
           to
           his
           wearied
           arms
           you
           brought
           ;
        
         
           (
           So
           Moses
           was
           upheld
           while
           Israel
           fought
           .
           )
        
         
           While
           ,
           from
           afar
           ,
           we
           heard
           the
           Canon
           play
           ,
        
         
           Like
           distant
           Thunder
           on
           a
           shiny
           day
           ,
        
         
           For
           absent
           friends
           we
           were
           asham'd
           to
           fear
           ,
        
         
           When
           we
           consider'd
           what
           you
           ventur'd
           there
           .
        
         
         
           Ships
           ,
           Men
           and
           Arms
           our
           Country
           might
           restore
           ,
        
         
           But
           such
           a
           Leader
           could
           supply
           no
           more
           .
        
         
           With
           generous
           thoughts
           of
           conquest
           he
           did
           burn
           ,
        
         
           Yet
           fought
           not
           more
           to
           vanquish
           then
           return
           .
        
         
           Fortune
           and
           victory
           he
           did
           pursue
           ,
        
         
           To
           bring
           them
           ,
           as
           his
           Slaves
           ,
           to
           wait
           on
           you
           .
        
         
           Thus
           Beauty
           ravish'd
           the
           rewards
           of
           Fame
           ,
        
         
           And
           the
           Fair
           triumph'd
           when
           the
           Brave
           o'rcame
           .
        
         
           Then
           ,
           as
           you
           meant
           to
           spread
           another
           way
        
         
           By
           Land
           your
           Conquests
           far
           as
           his
           by
           Sea
           ,
        
         
           Leaving
           our
           Southern
           Clime
           ,
           you
           march'd
           along
        
         
           The
           stubborn
           North
           ,
           ten
           thousand
           Cupid's
           strong
           .
        
         
           Like
           Commons
           the
           Nobility
           resort
        
         
           In
           crowding
           heaps
           ,
           to
           fill
           your
           moving
           Court
           :
        
         
           To
           welcome
           your
           approach
           the
           Vulgar
           run
           ,
        
         
           Like
           some
           new
           Envoy●
           from
           the
           distant
           Sun.
        
         
           And
           Country
           Beauties
           by
           their
           Lovers
           go
           ,
        
         
           Blessing
           themselves
           ,
           and
           wondring
           at
           the
           show
           .
        
         
           So
           when
           the
           new-born
           Phoenix
           first
           is
           seen
           ,
        
         
           Her
           feather'd
           Subjects
           all
           adore
           their
           Queen
           .
        
         
           And
           ,
           while
           she
           makes
           her
           progress
           through
           the
           East
           ,
        
         
           From
           every
           grove
           her
           numerous
           train's
           increast
           :
        
         
           Each
           Poet
           of
           the
           air
           her
           glory
           sings
           ,
        
         
           And
           round
           him
           the
           pleas'd
           Audience
           clap
           their
           wings
           .
        
      
       
         
           And
           now
           ,
           Sir
           ,
           't
           is
           time
           I
           should
           relieve
           you
           from
           the
           tedious
           length
           of
           this
           account
           .
           You
           have
           better
           and
           more
           profitable
           employment
           for
           your
           hours
           ,
           and
           I
           wrong
           the
           Publick
           to
           de●ain
           you
           longer
           .
           In
           conclusio●
           ,
           
           I
           must
           leave
           my
           Poem
           to
           you
           with
           all
           its
           faults
           ,
           which
           hope
           to
           find
           fewer
           in
           the
           printing
           by
           your
           emendations
           I
           know
           you
           are
           not
           of
           the
           number
           of
           those
           ,
           of
           whom
           th●
           younger
           Pliny
           speaks
           ,
           
             Nec
             sunt
             parum
             multi
             qu●
             carpere
             amicos
             suos
             judicium
             vocant
          
           ;
           I
           am
           rathe●
           too
           secure
           of
           you
           on
           that
           side
           .
           Your
           candour
           in
           pardoning
           my
           errors
           may
           make
           you
           more
           remiss
           in
           correctin●
           them
           ;
           if
           you
           will
           not
           withall
           consider
           that
           they
           come
           int●
           the
           world
           with
           your
           approbation
           ,
           and
           through
           you●
           hands
           .
           I
           beg
           from
           you
           the
           greatest
           favor
           you
           can
           con●e●●
           upon
           an
           absent
           person
           ,
           since
           I
           repose
           upon
           your
           management
           what
           is
           dearest
           to
           me
           ,
           my
           Fame
           and
           Reputation
           &
           therefore
           I
           hope
           it
           will
           stir
           you
           up
           to
           make
           my
           Poem
           fairer
           by
           many
           of
           your
           blots
           ;
           if
           not
           ,
           you
           know
           the
           stor●
           of
           the
           Gamester
           who
           married
           the
           rich
           man's
           daughter●
           and
           when
           her
           father
           denyed
           the
           portion
           ,
           christned
           〈◊〉
           the
           children
           by
           his
           sirname
           ,
           that
           if
           ,
           in
           conclusion
           ,
           the
           must
           beg
           ,
           they
           should
           do
           so
           by
           one
           name
           ,
           as
           well
           as
           〈◊〉
           the
           other
           .
           But
           since
           the
           reproach
           of
           my
           faults
           wi●●
           light
           on
           you
           ,
           't
           is
           but
           reason
           I
           should
           do
           you
           that
           justic●
           to
           the
           Readers
           ,
           to
           let
           them
           know
           that
           if
           there
           be
           an●
           thing
           tolerable
           in
           this
           Poem
           ,
           they
           owe
           the
           Argumen●
           to
           your
           choice
           ,
           the
           writing
           to
           your
           encouragement
           ,
           th●
           correction
           to
           your
           judgment
           ,
           and
           the
           care
           of
           it
           to
           you●
           friendship
           ,
           to
           which
           he
           must
           ever
           acknowledge
           himsel●
           to
           owe
           all
           things
           ,
           who
           is
           ,
        
         
           
             SIR
             ,
          
           The
           most
           obedient
           and
           most
           faithful
           of
           your
           Servants
           ,
           
             IOHN
             DRYDEN
             .
          
           
             From
             Charleton
             in
             Wiltshire
             ,
             
               Novem.
               10.
               1666.
               
            
          
        
      
       
         
         
           To
           the
           Readers
           .
        
         
           NOtwithstanding
           the
           diligence
           which
           has
           been
           used
           in
           my
           absence
           ,
           some
           faults
           have
           escap'd
           the
           Pr●ss
           :
           and
           I
           have
           so
           many
           〈◊〉
           my
           own
           to
           answ●●
           for
           ,
           that
           I
           am
           not
           willing
           to
           be
           charg'd
           with
           those
           ●f
           the
           〈◊〉
           .
           I
           have
           onely
           noted
           the
           grossest
           of
           them
           ,
           not
           such
           as
           by
           〈…〉
           have
           consou●ded
           the
           se●se
           ,
           but
           such
           as
           by
           mistaken
           wo●ds
           ●ave
           corrupted
           it
           .
        
      
       
         
           ERRATA
           .
        
         
           PAge
           4.
           line
           3.
           for
           an
           read
           〈◊〉
           page
           5.
           in
           the
           Not●s
           ,
           read
           thus
           ,
           
             ponti
             armenta
             &
             mag●as
             pascit
             ,
             &c.
          
           page
           8.
           line
           2.
           for
           
             under●ook
             ▪
          
           read
           
             〈◊〉
             ▪
          
           page
           10.
           in
           the
           〈◊〉
           ,
           for
           
             nau●●agiunt
             est
          
           read
           〈…〉
           page
           15.
           line
           3.
           〈◊〉
           read
           
             a
             loud
             .
             ibid.
          
           line
           10.
           ●or
           
             in
             distant
             order
          
           read
           
             in
             dreadful
             ●●der
          
           .
           page
           33.
           line
           3.
           for
           own●ead
           ●ead
           
             one
             .
             ibid.
          
           line
           16.
           read
           ,
           
             and
             as
             the
             Surgeons
          
           .
           page
           41.
           in
           the
           ●ote
           to
           the
           second
           S●anza
           ,
           for
           
             〈◊〉
             vicis
          
           ,
           read
           
             solisque
             vias
          
           .
           page
           47.
           line
           3.
           for
           flots
           read
           flats
           .
           page
           49.
           line
           15.
           for
           Verro
           read
           Va●ro
           .
           page
           53.
           line
           5.
           for
           smiles
           read
           
             smile
             .
             ibid.
          
           line
           11.
           for
           falling
           〈◊〉
           
             p●●ling
             .
             ibid.
          
           line
           7.
           for
           open
           read
           
             tender
             .
             ibid.
          
           in
           the
           note
           ,
           for
           ac●rude●et
           read
           accenderet
           .
           page
           63
           line
           2.
           for
           
             night
             has
          
           read
           night-●ags
           .
        
      
       
         
         
           Imprimatur
           .
        
         
           
             Roger
             L'Estrange
          
           
             
               Novem.
               22.
               1666.
               
            
          
        
      
    
     
       
         
         
           ANNVS
           MIRABILIS
           :
           The
           YEAR
           of
           WONDERS
           ,
           MDCLXVI
           .
        
         
           
             1.
             
          
           
             IN
             thriving
             Arts
             long
             time
             had
             Holland
             grown
             ,
          
           
             Crouching
             at
             home
             ,
             and
             cruel
             when
             abroad
             :
          
           
             Scarce
             leaving
             us
             the
             means
             to
             claim
             our
             own
             .
          
           
             Our
             King
             they
             courted
             ,
             &
             our
             Merchants
             aw'd
             .
          
        
         
           
             2.
             
          
           
             Trade
             ,
             which
             like
             bloud
             should
             circularly
             flow
             ,
          
           
             Stop'd
             in
             their
             Channels
             ,
             found
             its
             freedom
             lost
             :
          
           
             Thither
             the
             wealth
             of
             all
             the
             world
             did
             go
             ,
          
           
             And
             seem'd
             but
             shipwrack'd
             on
             so
             base
             a
             Coast.
             
          
        
         
           
           
             3.
             
          
           
             For
             them
             alone
             the
             Heav'ns
             had
             kindly
             heat
             ,
          
           
             a
             In
             Ea●tern
             Quarries
             ripening
             precious
             Dew
             :
          
           
             For
             them
             the
             Idumaean
             Balm
             did
             sweat
             ,
          
           
             A●d
             in
             hot
             Ceilon
             Spicy
             Forrests
             grew
             .
          
        
         
           
             4.
             
          
           
             The
             Sun
             but
             seem'd
             the
             Lab'rer
             of
             their
             Year
             ;
          
           
             b
             Each
             wexing
             Moon
             suppli'd
             her
             watry
             store
             ,
          
           
             To
             swell
             those
             Tides
             ,
             which
             from
             the
             Line
             did
             bear
          
           
             Their
             brim-full
             Vessels
             to
             the
             Belg'an
             shore
             .
          
        
         
           
             5.
             
          
           
             Thus
             mighty
             in
             her
             Ships
             ,
             stood
             Carthage
             long
             ,
          
           
             And
             swept
             the
             riches
             of
             the
             world
             from
             far
             ;
          
           
             Yet
             stoop'd
             to
             Rome
             ,
             less
             wealthy
             ,
             but
             more
             strong
             :
          
           
             And
             this
             may
             prove
             our
             second
             Punick
             War.
             
          
        
         
           
             6.
             
          
           
             What
             peace
             can
             be
             where
             both
             to
             one
             pretend
             ?
          
           
             (
             But
             they
             more
             diligent
             ,
             and
             we
             more
             strong
             )
          
           
             Or
             if
             a
             peace
             ,
             it
             soon
             must
             have
             an
             end
          
           
             For
             they
             would
             grow
             too
             pow'rful
             were
             it
             long
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             7.
             
          
           
             Behold
             two
             Nations
             then
             ,
             ingag'd
             so
             far
             ,
          
           
             That
             each
             seav'n
             years
             the
             fit
             must
             shake
             each
             Land
          
           
             Where
             France
             will
             side
             to
             weaken
             us
             by
             War
             ,
          
           
             Who
             onely
             can
             his
             vast
             designs
             withstand
             .
          
        
         
           
             8.
             
          
           
             See
             how
             he
             feeds
             th'
             c
             Iberian
             with
             delays
             ,
          
           
             To
             render
             us
             his
             timely
             friendship
             vain
             ;
          
           
             And
             ,
             while
             his
             secret
             Soul
             on
             Flanders
             preys
             ,
          
           
             He
             rocks
             the
             Cradle
             of
             the
             Babe
             of
             Spain
             .
          
        
         
           
             9.
             
          
           
             Such
             deep
             designs
             of
             Empire
             does
             he
             lay
             ,
          
           
             O're
             them
             whose
             cause
             he
             seems
             to
             take
             in
             hand
             .
          
           
             And
             ,
             prudently
             ,
             would
             make
             them
             Lords
             at
             Sea
             ,
          
           
             To
             whom
             with
             ease
             he
             can
             give
             Laws
             by
             Land.
             
          
        
         
           
             10.
             
          
           
             This
             saw
             our
             King
             ;
             and
             long
             within
             his
             breast
          
           
             His
             pensive
             counsels
             ballanc'd
             too
             and
             fro
             ;
          
           
             He
             griev'd
             the
             Land
             he
             freed
             should
             be
             oppress'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             he
             less
             for
             it
             then
             Usurpers
             do
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             11.
             
          
           
             His
             gen'rous
             mind
             the
             fair
             Idea's
             drew
          
           
             Of
             Fame
             and
             Honour
             which
             in
             dangers
             lay
             ;
          
           
             Where
             wealth
             ,
             like
             fruit
             an
             precipices
             ,
             grew
             ,
          
           
             Not
             to
             be
             gather'd
             but
             by
             Birds
             of
             prey
             .
          
        
         
           
             12.
             
          
           
             The
             loss
             and
             gain
             each
             fatally
             were
             great
             ;
          
           
             And
             still
             his
             Subjects
             call'd
             aloud
             for
             war
             :
          
           
             But
             peaceful
             Kings
             o'r
             martial
             people
             set
             ,
          
           
             Each
             others
             poize
             and
             counter-ballance
             are
             .
          
        
         
           
             13.
             
          
           
             He
             ,
             first
             ,
             survey'd
             the
             charge
             with
             careful
             eyes
             ,
          
           
             Which
             none
             but
             mighty
             Monarchs
             could
             maintain
             ;
          
           
             Yet
             judg'd
             ,
             like
             vapours
             that
             from
             Limbecks
             rise
             ,
          
           
             It
             would
             in
             richer
             showers
             descend
             again
             .
          
        
         
           
             14.
             
          
           
             At
             length
             resolv'd
             t'assert
             the
             watry
             Ball
             ,
          
           
             He
             in
             himself
             did
             whole
             Armado's
             bring
             :
          
           
             Him
             ,
             aged
             Sea-men
             might
             their
             Master
             call
             ,
          
           
             And
             choose
             for
             General
             were
             he
             not
             their
             King.
             
          
        
         
           
           
             15.
             
          
           
             It
             seems
             as
             every
             Ship
             their
             Sovereign
             knows
             ,
          
           
             His
             awful
             summons
             they
             so
             soon
             obey
             ;
          
           
             So
             here
             the
             skaly
             Herd
             when
             d
             Proteus
             blows
             ,
          
           
             And
             so
             to
             pasture
             follow
             through
             the
             Sea.
             
          
        
         
           
             16.
             
          
           
             To
             see
             this
             Fleet
             upon
             the
             Ocean
             move
          
           
             Angels
             drew
             wide
             the
             Curtains
             of
             the
             skies
             :
          
           
             And
             Heav'n
             ,
             as
             if
             their
             wanted
             Lights
             above
             ,
          
           
             For
             Tapers
             made
             two
             glareing
             Comets
             rise
             .
          
        
         
           
             17.
             
          
           
             Whether
             they
             unctuous
             Exhalations
             are
             ,
          
           
             Fir'd
             by
             the
             Sun
             ,
             or
             seeming
             so
             alone
             ,
          
           
             Or
             each
             some
             more
             remote
             and
             slippery
             Star
             ,
          
           
             Which
             looses
             footing
             when
             to
             Mortals
             shown
             .
          
        
         
           
             18.
             
          
           
             Or
             one
             that
             bright
             companion
             of
             the
             Sun
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             glorious
             aspect
             seal'd
             our
             new-born
             King
             ;
          
           
             And
             now
             a
             round
             of
             greater
             years
             begun
             ,
          
           
             New
             influence
             from
             his
             walks
             of
             light
             did
             bring
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             19.
             
          
           
             Victorious
             York
             did
             ,
             first
             ,
             with
             fam'd
             success
             ,
          
           
             To
             his
             known
             valour
             make
             the
             Dutch
             give
             place
             :
          
           
             Thus
             Heav'n
             our
             Monarch's
             fortune
             did
             confess
             ,
          
           
             Beginning
             conquest
             from
             his
             Royal
             Race
             .
          
        
         
           
             20.
             
          
           
             But
             since
             it
             was
             decreed
             ,
             Auspicious
             King
             ,
          
           
             In
             Britain's
             right
             that
             thou
             should'st
             wed
             the
             Main
             ,
          
           
             Heav'n
             ,
             as
             a
             gage
             ,
             would
             cast
             some
             precious
             thing
          
           
             And
             therefore
             doom'd
             that
             Lawson
             should
             be
             slain
             .
          
        
         
           
             21.
             
          
           
             Lawson
             amongst
             the
             formost
             met
             his
             fate
             ,
          
           
             Whom
             Sea-green
             Syrens
             from
             the
             Rocks
             lament
             :
          
           
             Thus
             as
             an
             off'ring
             for
             the
             Grecian
             State
             ,
          
           
             He
             first
             was
             kill'd
             who
             first
             to
             Battel
             went.
             
          
        
         
           
             22.
             
          
           
             *
             Their
             Chief
             blown
             up
             ,
             in
             air
             ,
             not
             waves
             expir'd
             ,
          
           
             To
             which
             his
             pride
             presum'd
             to
             give
             the
             Law
             :
          
           
             The
             Dutch
             confess'd
             Heav'n
             present
             ,
             and
             retir'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             all
             was
             Britain
             the
             wide
             Ocean
             saw
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             23.
             
          
           
             To
             nearest
             Ports
             their
             shatter'd
             Ships
             repair
             ,
          
           
             Where
             by
             our
             dreadful
             Canon
             they
             lay
             aw'd
             :
          
           
             So
             reverently
             men
             quit
             the
             open
             air
          
           
             When
             thunder
             speaks
             the
             angry
             Gods
             abroad
             .
          
        
         
           
             24.
             
          
           
             And
             now
             approach'd
             their
             Fleet
             from
             India
             ,
             fraught
          
           
             With
             all
             the
             riches
             of
             the
             rising
             Sun
             :
          
           
             And
             precious
             Sand
             from
             e
             Southern
             Climates
             brought
             ,
          
           
             (
             The
             fatal
             Regions
             where
             the
             War
             begun
             .
             )
             
          
        
         
           
             25.
             
          
           
             Like
             hunted
             Castors
             ,
             conscious
             of
             their
             store
             ,
          
           
             Their
             way-laid
             wealth
             to
             Norway's
             coasts
             they
             bring
             :
          
           
             There
             first
             the
             North's
             cold
             bosome
             Spices
             bore
             ,
          
           
             And
             Winter
             brooded
             on
             the
             Eastern
             Spring
             .
          
        
         
           
             26.
             
          
           
             By
             the
             rich
             scent
             we
             found
             our
             perfum'd
             prey
             ,
          
           
             Which
             flanck'd
             with
             Rocks
             did
             close
             in
             covert
             lie
             :
          
           
             And
             round
             about
             their
             murdering
             Canon
             lay
             ,
          
           
             At
             once
             to
             threaten
             and
             invi●e
             the
             eye
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             27.
             
          
           
             Fie●cer
             then
             Canon
             ,
             and
             then
             Rocks
             more
             hard
             ,
          
           
             The
             English
             undertook
             th'
             unequal
             War
             :
          
           
             Seven
             Ships
             alone
             ,
             by
             which
             the
             Port
             is
             barr●d
             ,
          
           
             Besiege
             the
             Indies
             ,
             and
             all
             Denmark
             dare
             .
          
        
         
           
             28.
             
          
           
             These
             fight
             like
             Husbands
             ,
             but
             like
             Lovers
             those
             :
          
           
             These
             fain
             would
             keep
             ,
             and
             those
             more
             fain
             enjoy
             ▪
          
           
             And
             to
             such
             height
             their
             frantick
             passion
             grows
             ,
          
           
             That
             what
             both
             love
             ,
             both
             hazard
             to
             destroy
             .
          
        
         
           
             29.
             
          
           
             Amidst
             whole
             heaps
             of
             Spices
             lights
             a
             Ball
             ,
          
           
             And
             now
             their
             Odours
             arm'd
             against
             them
             flie
             :
          
           
             Some
             preciously
             by
             shatter'd
             Porc'lain
             fall
             ,
          
           
             And
             some
             by
             Aromatick
             splinters
             die
             .
          
        
         
           
             30.
             
          
           
             An
             though
             by
             Tempests
             of
             the
             prize
             bere●t
             ,
          
           
             In
             Heavens
             inclemency
             some
             ease
             we
             find
             :
          
           
             Our
             foes
             we
             vanquish'd
             by
             our
             valour
             left
             ,
          
           
             And
             onely
             yielded
             to
             the
             Seas
             and
             Wind.
             
          
        
         
           
           
             31.
             
          
           
             Nor
             wholly
             lost
             we
             so
             deserv'd
             a
             prey
             ;
          
           
             For
             storms
             ,
             repenting
             ,
             part
             of
             it
             restor'd
             :
          
           
             Which
             ,
             as
             a
             tribute
             from
             the
             Balthick
             Sea
             ,
          
           
             The
             British
             Ocean
             sent
             her
             mighty
             Lord.
             
          
        
         
           
             32.
             
          
           
             Go
             ,
             Mortals
             ,
             now
             ,
             and
             vex
             your selves
             in
             vain
          
           
             For
             wealth
             ,
             which
             so
             uncertainly
             must
             come
             :
          
           
             When
             what
             was
             brought
             so
             far
             ,
             and
             with
             such
             pain
             ,
          
           
             Was
             onely
             kept
             to
             lose
             it
             neerer
             home
             .
          
        
         
           
             33.
             
          
           
             The
             Son
             ,
             who
             ,
             twice
             three
             month
             's
             on
             th'
             Ocean
             tost
             ,
          
           
             Prepar'd
             to
             tell
             what
             he
             had
             pass'd
             before
             ,
          
           
             Now
             sees
             ,
             in
             English
             Ships
             the
             Holland
             Coast
             ,
          
           
             And
             Parents
             arms
             in
             vain
             stretch'd
             from
             the
             shore
             .
          
        
         
           
             34.
             
          
           
             This
             carefull
             Husband
             had
             been
             long
             away
             ,
          
           
             Whom
             his
             chast
             wife
             and
             little
             children
             mourn
             ;
          
           
             Who
             on
             their
             fingers
             learn'd
             to
             tell
             the
             day
          
           
             On
             which
             their
             Father
             promis'd
             to
             return
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             35.
             
          
           
             f
             Such
             are
             the
             proud
             designs
             of
             human
             kind
             ,
          
           
             And
             so
             we
             suffer
             Shipwrack
             every
             where
             !
          
           
             Alas
             ,
             what
             Port
             can
             such
             a
             Pilot
             find
             ,
          
           
             Who
             in
             the
             night
             of
             Fate
             must
             blindly
             steer
             !
          
        
         
           
             36.
             
          
           
             The
             undistinguish'd
             seeds
             of
             good
             and
             ill
          
           
             Heav'n
             ,
             in
             his
             bosom
             ,
             from
             our
             knowledge
             hides
             ;
          
           
             And
             draws
             them
             in
             contempt
             of
             human
             skill
             ,
          
           
             Which
             oft
             ,
             for
             friends
             ,
             mistaken
             foes
             provides
             .
          
        
         
           
             37.
             
          
           
             Let
             Munsters
             Prelate
             ever
             be
             accurst
             ,
          
           
             In
             whom
             we
             seek
             the
             g
             German
             faith
             in
             vain
             :
          
           
             Alas
             ,
             that
             he
             should
             teach
             the
             English
             first
          
           
             That
             fraud
             and
             avarice
             in
             the
             Church
             could
             reign
             !
          
        
         
           
             38.
             
          
           
             Happy
             who
             never
             trust
             a
             Strangers
             will
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             friendship
             's
             in
             his
             interest
             understood
             !
          
           
             Since
             money
             giv'n
             but
             tempts
             him
             to
             be
             ill
          
           
             When
             pow'r
             is
             too
             remote
             to
             make
             him
             good
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             39.
             
          
           
             ●ill
             now
             ,
             alone
             the
             Mighty
             Nations
             strove
             :
          
           
             The
             rest
             ,
             at
             gaze
             ,
             without
             the
             Lists
             did
             stand
             :
          
           
             ●nd
             threatning
             France
             ,
             plac'd
             like
             a
             painted
             ●ove
             ,
          
           
             Kept
             idle
             thunder
             in
             his
             lifted
             hand
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             40.
             
          
           
             That
             Eunuch
             Guardian
             of
             rich
             Holl●●●
             trade
             ,
          
           
             Who
             envies
             us
             what
             he
             wants
             〈◊〉
             enjoy
             !
          
           
             Whose
             noisefull
             valour
             does
             no
             foe
             invade
             ,
          
           
             And
             weak
             assistance
             will
             his
             friends
             destroy
             .
          
        
         
           
             41.
             
          
           
             Offended
             that
             we
             fought
             without
             hi●
             〈◊〉
             ,
          
           
             He
             takes
             this
             time
             his
             secret
             ha●e
             to
             show
             :
          
           
             Which
             Charles
             does
             with
             a
             mind
             so
             calm
             receive
             ▪
          
           
             As
             one
             that
             neither
             seeks
             ,
             nor
             〈◊〉
             his
             foe
             .
          
        
         
           
             42.
             
          
           
             With
             France
             ,
             to
             aid
             the
             Dutch
             ,
             the
             Danes
             unite
             :
          
           
             France
             as
             their
             Tyrant
             ,
             Denmark
             as
             their
             Slave
             .
          
           
             But
             when
             with
             one
             three
             Nations
             joyn
             to
             fight
             ,
          
           
             They
             silently
             confess
             that
             one
             more
             brave
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             43.
             
          
           
             Lewis
             had
             chas'd
             the
             English
             from
             his
             shore
             ;
          
           
             But
             Charles
             the
             French
             as
             Subjects
             does
             invite
             .
          
           
             VVould
             Heav'n
             for
             each
             some
             Salomon
             restore
             ,
          
           
             VVho
             ,
             by
             their
             mercy
             ,
             may
             decide
             their
             right
          
        
         
           
             44.
             
          
           
             VVere
             Subjects
             so
             but
             onely
             buy
             their
             choice
             ,
          
           
             And
             not
             from
             Birth
             did
             forc'd
             Dominion
             take
             ,
          
           
             Our
             Prince
             alone
             would
             have
             the
             publique
             voice
             ▪
          
           
             And
             all
             his
             Neighbours
             Realms
             would
             desarts
             make
             .
          
        
         
           
             45.
             
          
           
             He
             without
             fear
             a
             dangerous
             VVar
             pursues
             ,
          
           
             VVhich
             without
             rashness
             he
             began
             before
             .
          
           
             As
             Honour
             made
             him
             first
             the
             danger
             choose
             ,
          
           
             So
             still
             he
             makes
             it
             good
             on
             virtues
             score
             .
          
        
         
           
             46.
             
          
           
             The
             doubled
             charge
             his
             Subjects
             love
             supplies
             ,
          
           
             VVho
             ,
             in
             that
             bounty
             ,
             to
             themselves
             are
             kind
             :
          
           
             So
             glad
             Egyptians
             see
             their
             Nilus
             rise
             ,
          
           
             And
             in
             his
             plenty
             their
             abundance
             find
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             47.
             
          
           
             With
             equal
             pow'r
             he
             does
             two
             Chiefs
             create
             ,
          
           
             Two
             such
             ,
             as
             each
             seem'd
             worthiest
             when
             alone
             :
          
           
             ●ach
             able
             to
             sustain
             a
             Nations
             fate
             ,
          
           
             Since
             both
             had
             found
             a
             greater
             in
             their
             own
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             48.
             
          
           
             ●oth
             great
             in
             courage
             ,
             Conduct
             and
             in
             Fame
             ,
          
           
             Yet
             neither
             envious
             of
             the
             others
             praise
             .
          
           
             Their
             duty
             ,
             faith
             ,
             and
             int'rest
             too
             the
             same
             .
          
           
             ●ike
             mighty
             Partners
             equally
             they
             raise
             .
          
        
         
           
             49.
             
          
           
             The
             Prince
             long
             time
             had
             courted
             Fortune's
             love
             ,
          
           
             But
             once
             possess'd
             did
             absolutely
             reign
             ;
          
           
             ●hus
             with
             their
             Amazons
             the
             Heroes
             strove
             ,
          
           
             And
             conquer'd
             first
             those
             Beauties
             they
             would
             gain
             .
          
        
         
           
             50.
             
          
           
             ●he
             Duke
             ,
             beheld
             ,
             like
             Scipio
             ,
             with
             disdain
          
           
             That
             Carthage
             ,
             which
             he
             ruin'd
             ,
             rise
             once
             more
             :
          
           
             And
             shook
             aloft
             the
             Fasces
             of
             the
             Main
             ,
          
           
             To
             fright
             those
             Slaves
             with
             what
             they
             felt
             before
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             51.
             
          
           
             Together
             to
             the
             watry
             Camp
             they
             haste
             ,
          
           
             Whom
             Matrons
             passing
             ,
             to
             their
             children
             sho●
          
           
             Infants
             first
             vows
             for
             them
             to
             Heav'n
             are
             cast
             ,
          
           
             And
             h
             future
             people
             bless
             them
             as
             they
             go
             .
          
        
         
           
             52.
             
          
           
             With
             them
             no
             riotous
             pomp
             ,
             nor
             As●an
             train
             ,
          
           
             T'
             infect
             a
             Navy
             with
             their
             gawdy
             fears
             :
          
           
             To
             make
             flow
             fights
             ,
             and
             victories
             but
             vain
             ;
          
           
             But
             war
             ;
             severely
             ,
             like
             it self
             ,
             appears
             .
          
        
         
           
             53.
             
          
           
             Diffusive
             of
             themselves
             ,
             where
             e'r
             they
             pass
             ,
          
           
             They
             make
             that
             warmth
             in
             others
             they
             expect
          
           
             Their
             valour
             works
             like
             bodies
             on
             a
             glass
             ,
          
           
             And
             does
             its
             Image
             on
             their
             men
             project
             .
          
        
         
           
             54.
             
          
           
             Our
             Fleet
             divides
             ,
             and
             straight
             the
             Dutch
             appea●
          
           
             In
             number
             ,
             and
             a
             fam'd
             Commander
             ,
             bold
             :
          
           
             The
             Narrow
             Seas
             can
             scarce
             their
             Navy
             bear
             ,
          
           
             Or
             crowded
             Vessels
             can
             their
             Soldiers
             hold
             .
             
          
        
         
           
           
             55.
             
          
           
             The
             Duke
             ,
             less
             numerous
             ,
             but
             in
             courage
             more
             ,
          
           
             On
             wings
             of
             all
             the
             winds
             to
             combat
             flies
             :
          
           
             His
             murdering
             Guns
             aloud
             defiance
             roar
             ,
          
           
             And
             bloudy
             Crosses
             on
             his
             Flag-staffs
             rise
             .
          
        
         
           
             56.
             
          
           
             Both
             furl
             their
             sails
             ,
             and
             strip
             them
             for
             the
             fight
             ,
          
           
             Their
             folded
             sheets
             dismiss
             the
             useless
             air
             :
          
           
             i
             Th'
             Elean
             Plains
             could
             boast
             no
             nobler
             sight
             ,
          
           
             When
             strugling
             Champions
             did
             their
             bodies
             bare
             .
          
        
         
           
             57.
             
          
           
             Born
             each
             by
             other
             in
             a
             distant
             Line
             ,
          
           
             The
             Sea-built
             Forts
             in
             distant
             order
             move
             :
          
           
             So
             vast
             the
             noise
             ,
             as
             if
             not
             Fleets
             did
             joyn
             ,
          
           
             k
             But
             Lands
             unfix'd
             ,
             and
             floating
             Nations
             ,
             strove
             .
          
        
         
           
             58.
             
          
           
             Now
             pass'd
             ,
             on
             either
             side
             they
             nimbly
             tack
             ,
          
           
             Both
             strive
             to
             intercept
             and
             guide
             the
             wind
             :
          
           
             And
             ,
             in
             its
             eye
             ,
             more
             closely
             they
             come
             back
          
           
             To
             finish
             all
             the
             deaths
             they
             left
             behind
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             59.
             
          
           
             On
             high-rais'd
             Decks
             the
             haughty
             Belgians
             ride
             ,
          
           
             Beneath
             whose
             shade
             our
             humble
             Fregats
             go
             :
          
           
             Such
             port
             the
             Elephant
             bears
             ,
             and
             so
             defi'd
          
           
             By
             the
             Rhinocero's
             her
             unequal
             foe
             .
          
        
         
           
             60.
             
          
           
             And
             as
             the
             built
             ,
             so
             different
             is
             the
             fight
             ;
          
           
             Their
             mounting
             shot
             is
             on
             our
             sails
             design'd
             :
          
           
             Deep
             in
             their
             hulls
             our
             deadly
             bullets
             light
             ,
          
           
             And
             through
             the
             yielding
             planks
             a
             passage
             find
             ▪
          
        
         
           
             61.
             
          
           
             Our
             dreaded
             Admiral
             from
             far
             they
             threat
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             batter'd
             rigging
             their
             whole
             wa●
             receives
             ▪
          
           
             All
             bare
             ,
             like
             some
             old
             Oak
             which
             tempests
             beat
             ,
          
           
             He
             stands
             ,
             and
             sees
             below
             his
             scatter'd
             leaves
             .
          
        
         
           
             62.
             
          
           
             Heroes
             of
             old
             ,
             when
             wounded
             ,
             shelter
             sought
             ,
          
           
             But
             he
             ,
             who
             meets
             all
             danger
             with
             disdain
             ,
          
           
             Ev'n
             in
             their
             face
             his
             ship
             to
             Anchor
             brought
             ,
          
           
             And
             Steeple
             high
             stood
             propt
             upon
             the
             Main
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             63.
             
          
           
             At
             this
             excess
             of
             courage
             ,
             all
             amaz'd
             ,
          
           
             The
             foremost
             of
             his
             foes
             a
             while
             withdraw
             .
          
           
             With
             such
             respect
             in
             enter'd
             Rome
             they
             gaz'd
             ,
          
           
             Who
             on
             high
             Chairs
             the
             God-like
             Fathers
             saw
             .
          
        
         
           
             64.
             
          
           
             And
             now
             ,
             as
             where
             Patroclus
             body
             lay
             ,
          
           
             Here
             ●rojan
             Chiefs
             advanc'd
             ,
             &
             there
             the
             Greek
             :
          
           
             Ours
             o●r
             the
             Duke
             their
             pious
             wings
             display
             ,
          
           
             And
             theirs
             the
             noblest
             spoils
             of
             Britain
             seek
             .
          
        
         
           
             65.
             
          
           
             Mean
             time
             ,
             his
             busie
             Marriners
             he
             hasts
             ;
          
           
             His
             shatter'd
             sails
             with
             rigging
             to
             restore
             :
          
           
             And
             willing
             Pines
             ascend
             his
             broken
             Masts
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             lofty
             heads
             rise
             higher
             then
             before
             .
          
        
         
           
             66.
             
          
           
             Straight
             to
             the
             Dutch
             he
             turns
             his
             dreadful
             prow
             ,
          
           
             More
             fierce
             th'important
             quarrel
             to
             decide
             .
          
           
             Like
             Swans
             ,
             in
             long
             array
             his
             Vessels
             show
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             creasts
             ,
             advancing
             ,
             do
             the
             waves
             divide
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             67.
             
          
           
             They
             charge
             ,
             re-charge
             ,
             and
             all
             along
             the
             Sea
          
           
             They
             drive
             ,
             and
             squander
             the
             huge
             ●elgian
             Fleet.
          
           
             Berkley
             alone
             who
             neerest
             Danger
             lay
             ,
          
           
             Did
             a
             like
             fate
             with
             lost
             Creusa
             meet
             .
          
        
         
           
             68.
             
          
           
             The
             night
             comes
             on
             ,
             we
             ,
             eager
             to
             pursue
          
           
             The
             Combat
             stil
             ,
             and
             they
             asham'd
             to
             leave
             :
          
           
             Till
             the
             last
             streaks
             of
             dying
             day
             withdrew
             ,
          
           
             And
             doubtful
             Moon-light
             did
             our
             rage
             deceive
             .
          
        
         
           
             69.
             
          
           
             In
             th'
             English
             Fleet
             each
             ship
             resounds
             with
             joy
             ,
          
           
             And
             loud
             applause
             of
             their
             great
             Lead'rs
             fame
             .
          
           
             In
             fiery
             dreams
             the
             Dutch
             they
             still
             destroy
             ,
          
           
             And
             ,
             slumbring
             ,
             smile
             at
             the
             imagin'd
             flame
             .
          
        
         
           
             70.
             
          
           
             Not
             so
             the
             Holland
             Fleet
             ,
             who
             tir'd
             and
             done
             ,
          
           
             Stretch'd
             on
             their
             decks
             like
             weary
             Oxen
             lie
             :
          
           
             Faint
             swea●s
             all
             down
             their
             mighty
             members
             run
             ,
          
           
             (
             Vast
             bulks
             which
             little
             souls
             but
             ill
             supply
             .
             )
          
        
         
           
           
             71.
             
          
           
             In
             dreams
             they
             fearful
             precipices
             tread
             ,
          
           
             Or
             ,
             shipwrack'd
             ,
             labour
             to
             some
             distant
             shore
             :
          
           
             Or
             in
             dark
             Churches
             walk
             among
             the
             dead
             :
          
           
             They
             wake
             with
             horrour
             ,
             &
             dare
             sleep
             no
             more
             .
          
        
         
           
             72.
             
          
           
             The
             morn
             they
             look
             on
             with
             unwilling
             eyes
             ,
          
           
             Till
             ,
             from
             their
             Main-top
             ,
             joyful
             news
             they
             hear
          
           
             Of
             ships
             ,
             which
             by
             their
             mould
             bring
             new
             supplies
             ,
          
           
             And
             in
             their
             colours
             Belgian
             Lions
             bear
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             73.
             
          
           
             Our
             watchful
             General
             had
             discern'd
             ,
             from
             far
             ,
          
           
             This
             mighty
             succour
             which
             made
             glad
             the
             foe
             .
          
           
             He
             sigh'd
             ,
             but
             ,
             like
             a
             Father
             of
             the
             War
             ,
          
           
             l
             His
             face
             spake
             hope
             ,
             while
             deep
             his
             sorrows
             flow
             .
          
        
         
           
             74.
             
          
           
             His
             wounded
             men
             he
             first
             sends
             off
             to
             shore
             :
          
           
             (
             Never
             ,
             till
             now
             ,
             unwilling
             to
             obey
             .
             )
          
           
             They
             ,
             not
             their
             wounds
             but
             want
             of
             strength
             deplore
             ,
          
           
             And
             think
             them
             happy
             who
             with
             him
             can
             stay
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             75.
             
          
           
             Then
             ,
             to
             the
             rest
             ,
             Rejoyce
             ,
             (
             said
             he
             )
             to
             day
          
           
             In
             you
             the
             fortune
             of
             
               Great
               Britain
            
             lies
             :
          
           
             Among
             so
             brave
             a
             people
             you
             are
             they
          
           
             Whom
             Heav'n
             has
             chose
             to
             fight
             for
             such
             a
             Prize
             .
          
        
         
           
             76.
             
          
           
             If
             number
             English
             courages
             could
             quell
             ,
          
           
             We
             should
             at
             first
             have
             shun'd
             ,
             not
             met
             our
             foes
             ;
          
           
             Whose
             numerous
             sails
             the
             fearful
             onely
             tell
             :
          
           
             Courage
             from
             hearts
             ,
             and
             not
             from
             numbers
             grows
             .
          
        
         
           
             77.
             
          
           
             He
             said
             ;
             nor
             needed
             more
             to
             say
             :
             with
             hast
          
           
             To
             their
             known
             stations
             chearfully
             they
             go
             :
          
           
             And
             all
             at
             once
             ,
             disdaining
             to
             be
             last
             ,
          
           
             Sollicite
             every
             gale
             to
             meet
             the
             foe
             .
          
        
         
           
             78.
             
          
           
             Nor
             did
             th'incourag'd
             Belgians
             long
             delay
             ,
          
           
             But
             ,
             bold
             in
             others
             ,
             not
             themselves
             ,
             they
             stood
             :
          
           
             So
             thick
             ,
             our
             Navy
             scarce
             could
             sheer
             their
             way
             ,
          
           
             But
             seem'd
             to
             wander
             in
             a
             moving
             wood
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             79.
             
          
           
             Our
             little
             Fleet
             was
             now
             ingag'd
             so
             far
             ,
          
           
             That
             ,
             like
             the
             Sword-fish
             in
             the
             Whale
             ,
             they
             fought
             .
          
           
             The
             Combat
             onely
             seem'd
             a
             Civil
             War
             ,
          
           
             Till
             through
             their
             bowels
             we
             our
             passage
             wrought
             .
          
        
         
           
             80.
             
          
           
             Never
             had
             valour
             ,
             no
             not
             ours
             before
             ,
          
           
             Done
             ought
             like
             this
             upon
             the
             Land
             or
             Main
             :
          
           
             Where
             not
             to
             be
             o'rcome
             was
             to
             do
             more
          
           
             Then
             all
             the
             Conquests
             former
             Kings
             did
             gain
             .
          
        
         
           
             81.
             
          
           
             The
             mighty
             Ghosts
             of
             our
             great
             Harries
             rose
             ,
          
           
             And
             armed
             Edwards
             look'd
             ,
             with
             anxious
             eyes
             ,
          
           
             To
             see
             this
             Fleet
             among
             unequal
             foes
             ,
          
           
             By
             which
             fate
             promis'd
             them
             their
             Charls
             should
             rise
             .
          
        
         
           
             82.
             
          
           
             Mean
             time
             the
             Belgians
             tack
             upon
             our
             Reer
             ,
          
           
             And
             raking
             Chace-guns
             through
             our
             sterns
             they
             send
             :
          
           
             Close
             by
             ,
             their
             Fire-ships
             ,
             like
             Ia●kals
             ,
             appear
             ,
          
           
             Who
             on
             their
             Lions
             for
             the
             prey
             attend
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             83.
             
          
           
             Silent
             in
             smoke
             of
             Canons
             they
             come
             on
             :
          
           
             (
             Such
             vapours
             once
             did
             fiery
             Cacus
             hide
             .
             )
          
           
             In
             these
             the
             height
             of
             pleas'd
             revenge
             is
             shown
             ,
          
           
             Who
             burn
             contented
             by
             another's
             side
             .
          
        
         
           
             84.
             
          
           
             Sometimes
             ,
             from
             fighting
             Squadrons
             of
             each
             Fleet
             ,
          
           
             (
             Deceiv'd
             themselves
             ,
             or
             to
             preserve
             some
             friend
             )
          
           
             Two
             grapling
             Aetna's
             on
             the
             Ocean
             meet
             ,
          
           
             And
             English
             fires
             with
             Belgian
             flames
             contend
             .
          
        
         
           
             85.
             
          
           
             Now
             ,
             at
             each
             Tack
             ,
             our
             little
             Fleet
             grows
             less
             ;
          
           
             And
             ,
             like
             maim'd
             fowl
             ,
             swim
             lagging
             on
             the
             Main
             .
          
           
             Their
             greater
             loss
             their
             numbers
             scarce
             confess
          
           
             While
             they
             lose
             cheaper
             then
             the
             English
             gain
             .
          
        
         
           
             86.
             
          
           
             Have
             you
             not
             seen
             when
             ,
             whistled
             from
             the
             fist
             ,
          
           
             Some
             Falcon
             stoops
             at
             what
             her
             eye
             design'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             ,
             with
             her
             eagerness
             ,
             the
             quarry
             miss'd
             ,
          
           
             Straight
             flies
             at
             check
             ,
             and
             clips
             it
             down
             the
             wind
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             87.
             
          
           
             The
             dastard
             Crow
             ,
             that
             to
             the
             wood
             made
             wing
             ,
          
           
             And
             sees
             the
             Groves
             no
             shelter
             can
             afford
             ,
          
           
             With
             her
             loud
             Kaws
             her
             Craven
             kind
             does
             bring
             ,
          
           
             Who
             ,
             safe
             in
             numbers
             cuff
             the
             noble
             Bird.
             
          
        
         
           
             88.
             
          
           
             Among
             the
             Dutch
             thus
             Albemarl
             did
             fare
             :
          
           
             He
             could
             not
             conquer
             ,
             and
             disdain'd
             to
             flie
             .
          
           
             Past
             hope
             of
             safety
             ,
             't
             was
             his
             latest
             care
             ,
          
           
             Like
             falling
             Cesar
             ,
             decently
             to
             die
             .
          
        
         
           
             89.
             
          
           
             Yet
             pity
             did
             his
             manly
             spirit
             move
          
           
             To
             see
             those
             perish
             who
             so
             well
             had
             fought
             :
          
           
             And
             ,
             generously
             ,
             with
             his
             dispair
             he
             strove
             ,
          
           
             Resolv'd
             to
             live
             till
             he
             their
             safety
             wrought
             .
          
        
         
           
             90.
             
          
           
             Let
             other
             Muses
             write
             his
             prosp'rous
             fate
             ,
          
           
             Of
             conquer'd
             Nations
             tell
             ,
             and
             Kings
             restor'd
             :
          
           
             But
             mine
             shall
             sing
             of
             his
             eclips'd
             estate
             ,
          
           
             VVhich
             ,
             like
             the
             Sun's
             ,
             more
             wonders
             does
             afford
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             91.
             
          
           
             He
             drew
             his
             mighty
             Fregates
             all
             before
             ,
          
           
             On
             which
             the
             foe
             his
             fruitless
             force
             employes
             :
          
           
             His
             weak
             ones
             deep
             into
             his
             Ree●
             he
             bore
             ,
          
           
             Remote
             from
             Guns
             as
             sick
             men
             are
             from
             noise
             .
          
        
         
           
             92.
             
          
           
             His
             fiery
             Canon
             did
             their
             passage
             guide
             ,
          
           
             And
             foll'wing
             smoke
             obscur'd
             them
             from
             the
             foe
             .
          
           
             Thus
             Israel
             safe
             from
             the
             Egyptia●'s
             pride
             ,
          
           
             By
             flaming
             pillars
             ,
             and
             by
             clouds
             did
             go
             .
          
        
         
           
             93.
             
          
           
             Elsewhere
             the
             Belgian
             force
             we
             did
             defeat
             ,
          
           
             But
             here
             our
             courages
             did
             theirs
             subdue
             :
          
           
             So
             Xenophon
             once
             led
             that
             fam'd
             retreat
             ,
          
           
             Which
             first
             the
             Asian
             Empire
             overthrew
             .
          
        
         
           
             94.
             
          
           
             The
             foe
             approach'd
             :
             and
             one
             ,
             for
             his
             bold
             sin
             ,
          
           
             Was
             sunk
             ,
             (
             as
             he
             that
             touch'd
             the
             Ark
             was
             ●lain
             ;
             )
          
           
             The
             wild
             waves
             master'd
             him
             ,
             and
             suck'd
             him
             in
             ,
          
           
             And
             smiling
             Eddies
             dimpled
             on
             the
             Main
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             95.
             
          
           
             This
             seen
             ,
             the
             rest
             at
             awful
             distance
             stood
             ;
          
           
             As
             if
             they
             had
             been
             there
             as
             servants
             set
             ,
          
           
             To
             stay
             ,
             or
             to
             go
             on
             ,
             as
             he
             thought
             good
             ,
          
           
             And
             not
             persue
             ,
             but
             wait
             on
             his
             retreat
             .
          
        
         
           
             96.
             
          
           
             So
             Lybian
             Huntsmen
             ,
             on
             some
             sandy
             plain
             ,
          
           
             From
             shady
             coverts
             rouz'd
             ,
             the
             Lion
             chace
             :
          
           
             The
             Kingly
             beast
             roars
             out
             with
             loud
             disdain
             ,
          
           
             m
             And
             slowly
             moves
             ,
             unknowing
             to
             give
             place
             .
          
        
         
           
             97.
             
          
           
             But
             if
             some
             one
             approach
             to
             dare
             his
             force
             ,
          
           
             He
             swings
             his
             tail
             ,
             and
             swiftly
             turns
             him
             round
             :
          
           
             With
             one
             paw
             seizes
             on
             his
             trembling
             Horse
             ,
          
           
             And
             with
             the
             other
             tears
             him
             to
             the
             ground
             .
          
        
         
           
             98.
             
          
           
             Amidst
             these
             toils
             succeeds
             the
             balmy
             night
             ,
          
           
             Now
             hissing
             waters
             the
             quench'd
             guns
             restore
             ;
          
           
             n
             And
             weary
             waves
             ,
             withdrawing
             from
             the
             fight
             ,
          
           
             Lie
             lull'd
             and
             panting
             on
             the
             silent
             shore
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             99.
             
          
           
             The
             Moon
             shone
             clear
             on
             the
             becalmed
             floud
             ,
          
           
             Where
             ,
             while
             her
             beams
             like
             glittering
             silver
             play
             ,
          
           
             Upon
             the
             Deck
             our
             careful
             General
             stood
             ,
          
           
             And
             deeply
             mus'd
             on
             the
             o
             succeeding
             day
             .
          
        
         
           
             100.
             
          
           
             That
             happy
             Sun
             ,
             said
             he
             ,
             will
             rise
             again
             ,
          
           
             Who
             twice
             victorious
             did
             our
             Navy
             see
             :
          
           
             And
             I
             alone
             must
             view
             him
             rise
             in
             vain
             ,
          
           
             Without
             one
             ray
             of
             all
             his
             Star
             for
             me
             .
          
        
         
           
             101.
             
          
           
             Yet
             ,
             like
             an
             English
             Gen'ral
             will
             I
             die
             ,
          
           
             And
             all
             the
             Ocean
             make
             my
             spatious
             grave
             .
          
           
             Women
             and
             Cowards
             on
             the
             Land
             may
             lie
             ,
          
           
             The
             Sea
             's
             a
             Tomb
             that
             's
             proper
             for
             the
             brave
             .
          
        
         
           
             102.
             
          
           
             Restless
             he
             pass'd
             the
             remnants
             of
             the
             night
             ,
          
           
             Till
             the
             fresh
             air
             proclaim'd
             the
             morning
             nigh
             ,
          
           
             And
             burning
             ships
             ,
             the
             Martyrs
             of
             the
             fight
             ,
          
           
             With
             paler
             fires
             beheld
             the
             Eastern
             sky
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             103.
             
          
           
             But
             now
             ,
             his
             Stores
             of
             Ammunition
             spent
             ,
          
           
             His
             naked
             valour
             is
             his
             onely
             guard
             :
          
           
             Rare
             thunders
             are
             from
             his
             dumb
             Cannon
             sent
             ,
          
           
             And
             solitary
             Guns
             are
             scarcely
             heard
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             104.
             
          
           
             Thus
             far
             had
             Fortune
             pow'r
             ,
             here
             forc'd
             to
             stay
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             longer
             durst
             with
             vertue
             be
             at
             strife
             :
          
           
             This
             ,
             as
             a
             Ransome
             Albemarl
             did
             pay
          
           
             For
             all
             the
             glories
             of
             so
             great
             a
             life
             .
          
        
         
           
             105.
             
          
           
             For
             now
             brave
             Rupert
             from
             afar
             appears
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             waving
             Streamers
             the
             glad
             General
             knows
             :
          
           
             With
             full
             spread
             Sails
             his
             eager
             Navy
             steers
             ,
          
           
             And
             every
             Ship
             in
             swift
             proportion
             grows
             .
          
        
         
           
             106.
             
          
           
             The
             anxious
             Prince
             had
             heard
             the
             Cannon
             long
             ,
          
           
             And
             from
             that
             length
             of
             time
             dire
             Omens
             drew
          
           
             Of
             English
             over-match'd
             ,
             and
             Dutch
             too
             strong
             ,
          
           
             Who
             never
             fought
             three
             days
             but
             to
             pursue
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             107.
             
          
           
             Then
             ,
             as
             an
             Eagle
             ,
             (
             who
             ,
             with
             pious
             care
             ,
          
           
             Was
             beating
             widely
             on
             the
             wing
             for
             prey
             )
          
           
             To
             her
             now
             silent
             Eiry
             does
             repair
             ,
          
           
             And
             finds
             her
             callow
             Infants
             forc'd
             away
             .
          
        
         
           
             108.
             
          
           
             Stung
             with
             her
             love
             she
             stoops
             upon
             the
             plain
             ,
          
           
             The
             broken
             air
             loud
             whistling
             as
             she
             flies
             :
          
           
             She
             stops
             ,
             and
             listens
             ,
             and
             shoots
             forth
             again
             ,
          
           
             And
             guides
             her
             pinions
             by
             her
             young
             ones
             cries
             .
          
        
         
           
             109.
             
          
           
             With
             such
             kind
             passion
             hastes
             the
             Prince
             to
             fight
             ,
          
           
             And
             spreads
             his
             flying
             canvass
             to
             the
             sound
             :
          
           
             Him
             ,
             whom
             no
             danger
             ,
             were
             he
             there
             ,
             could
             fright
             ,
          
           
             Now
             ,
             absent
             ,
             every
             little
             noise
             can
             wound
             .
          
        
         
           
             110.
             
          
           
             As
             ,
             in
             a
             drought
             ,
             the
             thirsty
             creatures
             cry
             ,
          
           
             And
             gape
             upon
             the
             gather'd
             clowds
             for
             rain
             ,
          
           
             And
             first
             the
             Martlet
             meets
             it
             in
             the
             sky
             ,
          
           
             And
             ,
             with
             wet
             wings
             ,
             joys
             all
             the
             feather'd
             train
             ▪
          
        
         
           
           
             111.
             
          
           
             With
             such
             glad
             hearts
             did
             our
             dispairing
             men
          
           
             Salute
             th'
             appearance
             of
             the
             Princes
             Fleet
             ▪
          
           
             And
             each
             ambitiously
             would
             claim
             the
             Ken
          
           
             That
             with
             first
             eyes
             did
             distant
             safety
             meet
             .
          
        
         
           
             112.
             
          
           
             The
             Dutch
             ,
             who
             came
             like
             greedy
             Hinds
             before
             ,
          
           
             To
             reap
             the
             harvest
             their
             ripe
             ears
             did
             yield
             ,
          
           
             Now
             look
             like
             those
             ,
             when
             rowling
             thunders
             roar
             ,
          
           
             And
             sheets
             of
             Lightning
             blast
             the
             standing
             field
             .
          
        
         
           
             113.
             
          
           
             Full
             in
             the
             Princes
             passage
             ,
             hills
             of
             sand
          
           
             And
             dang'rous
             flats
             in
             secret
             ambush
             lay
             ,
          
           
             Where
             the
             false
             tides
             skim
             o'r
             the
             cover'd
             Land
             ,
          
           
             And
             Sea-men
             with
             dissembled
             depths
             betray
             :
          
        
         
           
             114.
             
          
           
             The
             wily
             Dutch
             ,
             who
             ,
             like
             fall'n
             Angels
             ,
             fear'd
          
           
             This
             new
             Messiah's
             coming
             ,
             there
             did
             wait
             ,
          
           
             And
             round
             the
             verge
             their
             braving
             Vessels
             steer'd
             ,
          
           
             To
             tempt
             his
             courage
             with
             so
             fair
             a
             bait
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             115.
             
          
           
             But
             he
             ,
             unmov'd
             ,
             contemns
             their
             idle
             threat
             ,
          
           
             Secure
             of
             fame
             when
             ere
             he
             please
             to
             fight
             :
          
           
             His
             cold
             experience
             tempers
             all
             his
             heat
             ,
          
           
             And
             inbred
             worth
             does
             boasting
             valour
             ●light
             .
          
        
         
           
             116.
             
          
           
             Heroique
             virtue
             did
             his
             actions
             guide
             ,
          
           
             And
             he
             the
             substance
             not
             th'
             appearance
             chose
             :
          
           
             To
             rescue
             one
             such
             friend
             he
             took
             more
             pride
          
           
             Than
             to
             destroy
             whole
             thousands
             of
             such
             foes
             .
          
        
         
           
             117.
             
          
           
             But
             ,
             when
             approach'd
             ,
             in
             strict
             embraces
             bound
             ,
          
           
             Rupert
             and
             Albemarl
             together
             grow
             :
          
           
             He
             joys
             to
             have
             his
             friend
             in
             safety
             found
             ,
          
           
             Which
             he
             to
             none
             but
             to
             that
             friend
             would
             owe.
             
          
        
         
           
             118.
             
          
           
             The
             chearful
             Souldiers
             ,
             with
             new
             stores
             suppli'd
             ,
          
           
             Now
             long
             to
             execute
             their
             spleenfull
             will
             ;
          
           
             And
             ,
             in
             revenge
             for
             those
             three
             days
             they
             tri'd
             ,
          
           
             Wish
             one
             ,
             like
             Ioshuah's
             ,
             when
             the
             Sun
             stood
             still
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             119.
             
          
           
             Thus
             re-inforc'd
             ,
             against
             the
             adverse
             Fleet
          
           
             Still
             doubling
             ours
             ,
             brave
             Rupert
             leads
             the
             way
             .
          
           
             With
             the
             first
             blushes
             of
             the
             Morn
             they
             meet
             ,
          
           
             And
             bring
             night
             back
             upon
             the
             new-born
             day
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             120.
             
          
           
             His
             presence
             soon
             blows
             up
             the
             kindling
             fight
             ,
          
           
             And
             his
             loud
             Guns
             speak
             thick
             like
             angry
             men
             :
          
           
             It
             seem'd
             as
             slaughter
             had
             been
             breath'd
             all
             night
             ,
          
           
             And
             death
             new
             pointed
             his
             dull
             dart
             agen
             .
          
        
         
           
             121.
             
          
           
             The
             Dutch
             ,
             too
             well
             his
             mighty
             Conduct
             knew
             ,
          
           
             And
             matchless
             Courage
             since
             the
             former
             ●ight
             :
          
           
             Whose
             Navy
             like
             a
             stiff
             stretch'd
             cord
             did
             show
          
           
             Till
             he
             bore
             in
             ,
             and
             bent
             them
             into
             flight
             .
          
        
         
           
             122.
             
          
           
             The
             wind
             he
             shares
             while
             half
             their
             Fleet
             offends
          
           
             His
             open
             side
             ,
             and
             high
             above
             him
             shows
             ,
          
           
             Upon
             the
             rest
             at
             pleasure
             he
             descends
             ,
          
           
             And
             ,
             doubly
             harm'd
             ,
             he
             double
             harms
             bestows
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             123.
             
          
           
             Behind
             ,
             the
             Gen'ral
             mends
             his
             weary
             pace
             ,
          
           
             And
             sullenly
             to
             his
             revenge
             he
             sails
             :
          
           
             p
             So
             glides
             some
             trodden
             Serpent
             on
             the
             grass
             ,
          
           
             And
             long
             behind
             his
             wounded
             vollume
             trails
             .
          
        
         
           
             124.
             
          
           
             Th'
             increasing
             sound
             is
             born
             to
             either
             shore
             ,
          
           
             And
             for
             their
             stakes
             the
             throwing
             Nations
             fear
             .
          
           
             Their
             passion
             ,
             double
             with
             the
             Cannons
             roar
             ,
          
           
             And
             with
             warm
             wishes
             each
             man
             combats
             there
             .
          
        
         
           
             125.
             
          
           
             Pli'd
             thick
             and
             close
             as
             when
             the
             fight
             begun
             ,
          
           
             Their
             huge
             unwieldy
             Navy
             wasts
             away
             :
          
           
             So
             sicken
             waning
             Moons
             too
             neer
             the
             Sun
             ,
          
           
             And
             blunt
             their
             crescents
             on
             the
             edge
             of
             day
             .
          
        
         
           
             126.
             
          
           
             And
             now
             reduc'd
             on
             equal
             terms
             to
             fight
             ,
          
           
             Their
             Ships
             like
             wasted
             Patrimonies
             show
             :
          
           
             Where
             the
             thin
             scatt'ring
             Trees
             admit
             the
             light
             ,
          
           
             And
             shun
             each
             others
             shadows
             as
             they
             grow
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             127.
             
          
           
             The
             warlike
             Prince
             had
             sever'd
             from
             the
             rest
          
           
             Two
             giant
             ships
             ,
             the
             pride
             of
             all
             the
             Main
             ;
          
           
             Which
             ,
             with
             his
             own
             ,
             so
             vigorously
             he
             press'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             flew
             so
             home
             they
             could
             not
             rise
             again
             .
          
        
         
           
             128.
             
          
           
             Already
             batter'd
             ,
             by
             his
             Lee
             they
             lay
             ,
          
           
             In
             vain
             upon
             the
             passing
             winds
             they
             call
             :
          
           
             The
             passing
             winds
             through
             their
             torn
             canvass
             play
             ,
          
           
             And
             flagging
             sails
             on
             heartless
             Sailors
             fall
             .
          
        
         
           
             129.
             
          
           
             Their
             open'd
             sides
             receive
             a
             gloomy
             light
             ,
          
           
             Dreadful
             as
             day
             let
             in
             to
             shades
             below
             :
          
           
             Without
             ,
             grim
             death
             rides
             bare-fac'd
             in
             their
             sight
             ,
          
           
             And
             urges
             ent'ring
             billows
             as
             they
             flow
             .
          
        
         
           
             130.
             
          
           
             When
             one
             dire
             shot
             ,
             the
             last
             they
             could
             supply
             ,
          
           
             Close
             by
             the
             boar'd
             the
             Prince's
             Main-mast
             bore
             :
          
           
             All
             three
             now
             ,
             helpless
             ,
             by
             each
             other
             lie
             ,
          
           
             And
             this
             offends
             not
             ,
             and
             those
             fear
             no
             more
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             131.
             
          
           
             So
             have
             I
             seen
             some
             fearful
             Hare
             maintain
          
           
             A
             Course
             ,
             till
             tir'd
             before
             the
             Dog
             she
             lay
             :
          
           
             Who
             ,
             stretch'd
             behind
             her
             ,
             pants
             upon
             the
             plain
             ,
          
           
             Past
             pow'r
             to
             kill
             as
             she
             to
             get
             away
             .
          
        
         
           
             132.
             
          
           
             With
             his
             loll'd
             tongue
             he
             faintly
             licks
             his
             prey
             ,
          
           
             His
             warm
             breath
             blows
             her
             flix
             up
             as
             she
             lies
             :
          
           
             She
             ,
             trembling
             ,
             creeps
             upon
             the
             ground
             away
             ,
          
           
             And
             looks
             back
             to
             him
             with
             beseeching
             eyes
             .
          
        
         
           
             133.
             
          
           
             The
             Prince
             unjustly
             does
             his
             Stars
             accuse
             ,
          
           
             Which
             hinder'd
             him
             to
             push
             his
             fortune
             on
             :
          
           
             For
             what
             they
             to
             his
             courage
             did
             refuse
             ,
          
           
             By
             mortal
             valour
             never
             must
             be
             done
             .
          
        
         
           
             134.
             
          
           
             This
             lucky
             hour
             the
             wise
             Batavian
             takes
             ,
          
           
             And
             warns
             his
             tatter'd
             Fleet
             to
             follow
             home
             :
          
           
             Proud
             to
             have
             so
             got
             off
             with
             equal
             stakes
             ,
          
           
             q
             Where
             't
             was
             a
             triumph
             not
             to
             be
             o'r-come
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             135.
             
          
           
             The
             General
             's
             force
             ,
             as
             kept
             alive
             by
             fight
             ,
          
           
             Now
             ,
             not
             oppos'd
             ,
             no
             longer
             can
             persue
             :
          
           
             Lasting
             till
             Heav'n
             had
             done
             his
             courage
             right
             ,
          
           
             When
             he
             had
             conquer'd
             he
             his
             weakness
             knew
             .
          
        
         
           
             136.
             
          
           
             He
             casts
             a
             frown
             on
             the
             departing
             foe
             ,
          
           
             And
             sighs
             to
             see
             him
             quit
             the
             watry
             field
             :
          
           
             His
             stern
             fix'd
             eyes
             no
             satisfaction
             show
             ,
          
           
             For
             all
             the
             glories
             which
             the
             Fight
             did
             yield
             .
          
        
         
           
             137.
             
          
           
             Though
             ,
             as
             when
             Fiends
             did
             Miracles
             avow
             ,
          
           
             He
             stands
             confess'd
             ev'n
             by
             the
             boastful
             Dutch
             ,
          
           
             He
             onely
             does
             his
             conquest
             disavow
             ,
          
           
             And
             thinks
             too
             little
             what
             they
             found
             too
             much
             .
          
        
         
           
             138.
             
          
           
             Return'd
             ,
             he
             with
             the
             Fleet
             resolv'd
             to
             stay
             ,
          
           
             No
             tender
             thoughts
             of
             home
             his
             heart
             divide
             :
          
           
             Domestick
             joys
             and
             cares
             he
             puts
             away
             ,
          
           
             For
             Realms
             are
             housholds
             which
             the
             Great
             must
             guide
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             139.
             
          
           
             As
             those
             who
             unripe
             veins
             in
             Mines
             explore
             ,
          
           
             On
             the
             rich
             bed
             again
             the
             warm
             turf
             lay
             ,
          
           
             Till
             time
             digests
             the
             yet
             imperfect
             Ore
             ,
          
           
             And
             know
             it
             will
             be
             Gold
             another
             day
             .
          
        
         
           
             140.
             
          
           
             So
             looks
             our
             Monarch
             on
             this
             early
             fight
             ,
          
           
             Th'
             essay
             ,
             and
             rudiments
             of
             great
             success
             ,
          
           
             Which
             all-maturing
             time
             must
             bring
             to
             light
             ,
          
           
             While
             he
             ,
             like
             Heav'n
             ,
             does
             each
             days
             labour
             bless
             ▪
          
        
         
           
             141.
             
          
           
             Heav'n
             ended
             not
             the
             first
             or
             second
             day
             ,
          
           
             Yet
             each
             was
             perfect
             to
             the
             work
             design'd
             :
          
           
             God
             and
             Kings
             work
             ,
             when
             they
             their
             work
             survey
             ▪
          
           
             And
             passive
             aptness
             in
             all
             subjects
             find
             .
          
        
         
           
             142.
             
          
           
             In
             burden'd
             Vessels
             ,
             first
             ,
             with
             speedy
             care
             ,
          
           
             His
             plenteous
             Stores
             do
             season'd
             timber
             send
          
           
             Thither
             the
             brawny
             Carpenters
             repair
             ,
          
           
             And
             as
             the
             Chyrurg'ons
             of
             maim'd
             ships
             attend
             
          
        
         
           
           
             143.
             
          
           
             With
             Cord
             and
             Canvass
             from
             rich
             Hamburgh
             sent
             ,
          
           
             His
             Navies
             molted
             wings
             he
             imps
             once
             more
             :
          
           
             Tall
             Norway
             Fir
             ,
             their
             Masts
             in
             Battel
             spent
             ,
          
           
             And
             English
             Oak
             sprung
             leaks
             and
             planks
             restore
             .
          
        
         
           
             144.
             
          
           
             All
             hands
             employ'd
             ,
             r
             the
             Royal
             work
             grows
             warm
             ,
          
           
             Like
             labouring
             Bees
             on
             a
             long
             Summers
             day
             ,
          
           
             Some
             sound
             the
             Trumpet
             for
             the
             rest
             to
             swarm
             ,
          
           
             And
             some
             on
             bells
             of
             tasted
             Lillies
             play
             :
          
        
         
           
             145.
             
          
           
             With
             glewy
             wax
             some
             new
             foundation
             lay
          
           
             Of
             Virgin
             combs
             ,
             which
             from
             the
             roof
             are
             hung
             :
          
           
             Some
             arm'd
             within
             doors
             ,
             upon
             duty
             stay
             ,
          
           
             Or
             tend
             the
             sick
             ,
             or
             educate
             the
             young
             .
          
        
         
           
             146.
             
          
           
             So
             here
             ,
             some
             pick
             out
             bullets
             from
             the
             sides
             ,
          
           
             Some
             drive
             old
             Okum
             through
             each
             seam
             &
             rift
             :
          
           
             Their
             left-hand
             does
             the
             Calking-iron
             guide
             ,
          
           
             The
             ratling
             Mallet
             with
             the
             right
             they
             lift
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             147.
             
          
           
             With
             boiling
             Pitch
             another
             near
             at
             hand
          
           
             (
             From
             friendly
             Sweden
             brought
             )
             the
             seams
             in-stops
             ▪
          
           
             Which
             well
             paid
             o'r
             the
             salt-Sea
             waves
             withstand
             ,
          
           
             And
             shakes
             them
             from
             the
             rising
             beak
             in
             drops
             .
          
        
         
           
             148.
             
          
           
             Some
             the
             gall'd
             ropes
             with
             dawby
             Marling
             bind
             ,
          
           
             Or
             sear-cloth
             Masts
             with
             strong
             Tarpawling
             coats
             :
          
           
             To
             try
             new
             shrouds
             one
             mounts
             into
             the
             wind
             ,
          
           
             And
             one
             ,
             below
             ,
             their
             ease
             or
             stifness
             notes
             .
          
        
         
           
             149.
             
          
           
             Our
             careful
             Monarch
             stands
             in
             Person
             by
             ,
          
           
             His
             new-cast
             Canons
             firmness
             to
             explore
             :
          
           
             The
             strength
             of
             big-corn'd
             powder
             loves
             to
             try
             ,
          
           
             And
             Ball
             and
             Cartrage
             sorts
             for
             every
             bore
             .
          
        
         
           
             150.
             
          
           
             Each
             day
             brings
             fresh
             supplies
             of
             Arms
             and
             Men
             ,
          
           
             And
             Ships
             which
             all
             last
             VVinter
             were
             abrode
             :
          
           
             And
             such
             as
             fitted
             since
             the
             Fight
             had
             been
             ,
          
           
             Or
             new
             from
             Stocks
             were
             fall'n
             into
             the
             Road.
             
          
        
         
           
           
             151.
             
          
           
             The
             goodly
             London
             
             in
             her
             gallant
             trim
             ,
          
           
             (
             The
             Phoenix
             daughter
             of
             the
             vanish'd
             old
             :
             )
          
           
             Like
             a
             rich
             Bride
             does
             to
             the
             Ocean
             swim
             ,
          
           
             And
             on
             her
             shadow
             rides
             in
             floating
             gold
             .
          
        
         
           
             152.
             
          
           
             Her
             Flag
             aloft
             spread
             ruffling
             to
             the
             wind
             ,
          
           
             And
             sanguine
             Streamers
             seem
             the
             floud
             to
             fire
             :
          
           
             The
             Weaver
             charm'd
             with
             what
             his
             Loom
             design'd
             ,
          
           
             Goes
             on
             to
             Sea
             ,
             and
             knows
             not
             to
             retire
             .
          
        
         
           
             153.
             
          
           
             With
             roomy
             decks
             ,
             her
             Guns
             of
             mighty
             strength
             ,
          
           
             (
             Whose
             low-laid
             mouthes
             each
             mounting
             billow
             laves
             :
             )
          
           
             Deep
             in
             her
             draught
             ,
             and
             warlike
             in
             her
             length
             ,
          
           
             She
             seems
             a
             Sea-wasp
             flying
             on
             the
             waves
             .
          
        
         
           
             154.
             
          
           
             This
             martial
             Present
             ,
             piously
             design'd
             ,
          
           
             The
             Loyal
             City
             give
             their
             best-lov'd
             King
             :
          
           
             And
             with
             a
             bounty
             ample
             as
             the
             wind
             ,
          
           
             Built
             ,
             fitted
             and
             maintain'd
             to
             aid
             him
             bring
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             155.
             
          
           
             By
             viewing
             Nature
             ,
             Natures
             Hand-maid
             ,
             Art
             ,
          
           
             Makes
             mighty
             things
             from
             small
             beginnings
             grow
             :
          
           
             Thus
             fishes
             first
             to
             shipping
             did
             impart
          
           
             Their
             tail
             the
             Rudder
             ,
             and
             their
             head
             the
             Prow
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             156.
             
          
           
             Some
             Log
             ,
             perhaps
             ,
             upon
             the
             waters
             swam
          
           
             An
             useless
             drift
             ,
             which
             ,
             rudely
             cut
             within
             ,
          
           
             And
             hollow'd
             ,
             first
             a
             floating
             trough
             became
             ,
          
           
             And
             cross
             some
             Riv'let
             passage
             did
             begin
             .
          
        
         
           
             157.
             
          
           
             In
             shipping
             such
             as
             this
             the
             
               Irish
               Kern
            
             ,
          
           
             And
             untaught
             Indian
             ,
             on
             the
             stream
             did
             glide
             :
          
           
             E●e
             sharp-keel'd
             Boats
             to
             stem
             the
             floud
             did
             learn
             ,
          
           
             Or
             fin-like
             Oars
             did
             spread
             from
             either
             side
             .
          
        
         
           
             158.
             
          
           
             Adde
             but
             a
             Sail
             ,
             and
             Saturn
             so
             appear'd
             ,
          
           
             When
             ,
             from
             lost
             Empire
             ,
             he
             to
             Exile
             went
             ,
          
           
             And
             with
             the
             Golden
             age
             to
             Tyber
             steer'd
             ,
          
           
             Where
             Coin
             &
             first
             Commerce
             he
             did
             invent
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             159.
             
          
           
             Rude
             as
             their
             Ships
             was
             Navigation
             ,
             then
             ;
          
           
             No
             useful
             C●●pass
             or
             Meridian
             known
             :
          
           
             Coasting
             ,
             they
             kep●
             the
             Land
             within
             their
             ken
             ,
          
           
             And
             knew
             no
             North
             but
             when
             the
             Pole-star
             shone
             .
          
        
         
           
             160.
             
          
           
             Of
             all
             who
             since
             have
             us'd
             the
             open
             Sea
             ,
          
           
             Then
             ▪
             the
             bold
             English
             none
             more
             fame
             have
             won
             :
          
           
             s
             Beyond
             the
             Year
             ,
             and
             out
             of
             Heav'ns
             high-way
             ,
          
           
             They
             make
             discoveries
             where
             they
             see
             no
             Sun.
             
          
        
         
           
             161.
             
          
           
             But
             what
             ●o
             long
             in
             vain
             ,
             and
             yet
             unknown
             ,
          
           
             By
             poor
             man-kinds
             benighted
             ▪
             wit
             is
             ●ought
             ,
          
           
             Shall
             in
             this
             Age
             to
             Britain
             first
             ●e
             shown
             ,
          
           
             And
             hence
             be
             to
             admiring
             Nations
             taught
             ▪
          
        
         
           
             162.
             
          
           
             The
             Ebbs
             of
             Tydes
             ,
             and
             their
             mysterious
             flow
             ,
          
           
             We
             ,
             as
             Arts
             Elements
             shall
             understand
             :
          
           
             And
             as
             by
             Line
             upon
             the
             Ocean
             go
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             paths
             shall
             be
             familiar
             as
             the
             Land.
             
          
        
         
           
           
             163.
             
          
           
             t
             Instructed
             ships
             shall
             sail
             to
             quick
             Commerce
             ;
          
           
             By
             which
             remotest
             Regions
             are
             alli'd
             :
          
           
             Which
             makes
             one
             City
             of
             the
             Universe
             ,
          
           
             VVhere
             some
             may
             gain
             ,
             and
             all
             may
             be
             suppli'd
             .
          
        
         
           
             164.
             
          
           
             Their
             ,
             we
             upon
             our
             Globes
             last
             verge
             shall
             go
             ,
          
           
             And
             view
             the
             Ocean
             leaning
             on
             the
             sky
             :
          
           
             From
             thence
             our
             rolling
             Neighbours
             we
             shall
             know
             .
          
           
             And
             on
             the
             Lunar
             world
             securely
             pry
             .
          
        
         
           
             165.
             
          
           
             This
             I
             fore-tel
             ,
             from
             your
             auspicious
             care
             ,
          
           
             VVho
             great
             in
             search
             of
             God
             and
             Natu●●
             grow
             :
          
           
             VVho
             best
             your
             wise
             Creator's
             praise
             declar●
             ,
          
           
             Since
             best
             to
             praise
             his
             works
             is
             best
             to
             know
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             166.
             
          
           
             O
             truly
             Royal
             !
             who
             behold
             the
             Law
             ,
          
           
             And
             rule
             of
             beings
             in
             your
             Make●●
             mind
             ,
          
           
             And
             thence
             ,
             like
             Limbecks
             ,
             〈◊〉
             Idea's
             draw
             ,
          
           
             To
             fit
             the
             levell'd
             use
             of
             humane
             kind
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             167.
             
          
           
             But
             first
             the
             toils
             of
             war
             we
             must
             endure
             ,
          
           
             And
             ,
             from
             th'
             Injurious
             Dutch
             redeem
             the
             Seas
             .
          
           
             War
             makes
             the
             valiant
             of
             his
             right
             ●ecure
             ,
          
           
             And
             gives
             up
             fraud
             to
             be
             chastis'd
             with
             ●ase
             .
          
        
         
           
             168.
             
          
           
             Already
             were
             the
             Belgians
             on
             our
             coast
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             Fleet
             more
             mighty
             every
             day
             became
             ,
          
           
             By
             〈◊〉
             success
             ,
             which
             they
             did
             falsly
             boast
             ,
          
           
             And
             ●ow
             ,
             by
             first
             appearing
             seem'd
             to
             claim
             .
          
        
         
           
             169.
             
          
           
             Designing
             ,
             subtil
             ,
             diligent
             ,
             and
             close
             ,
          
           
             They
             knew
             to
             manage
             War
             with
             wise
             delay
             :
          
           
             Yet
             all
             those
             arts
             their
             vanity
             did
             cross
             ,
          
           
             And
             ,
             by
             their
             pride
             ,
             their
             prudence
             did
             betray
             .
          
        
         
           
             170.
             
          
           
             Nor
             staid
             the
             English
             long
             :
             but
             ,
             well
             suppli'd
             ,
          
           
             Appear
             as
             numerous
             as
             th'
             insulting
             foe
             .
          
           
             The
             Combat
             now
             by
             courage
             must
             be
             tri'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             the
             success
             the
             braver
             Nation
             show
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             171.
             
          
           
             There
             was
             the
             Plimouth
             Squadron
             new
             come
             in
             ,
          
           
             Which
             in
             the
             Straights
             last
             Winter
             was
             abroad
             :
          
           
             Which
             twice
             on
             Biscay's
             working
             Bay
             had
             been
             ,
          
           
             And
             on
             the
             Mid-land
             Sea
             the
             French
             had
             aw'd
             .
          
        
         
           
             172.
             
          
           
             Old
             expert
             Allen
             ,
             loyal
             all
             along
             ,
          
           
             Fam'd
             for
             his
             action
             on
             the
             Smirna
             Fleet
             ,
          
           
             And
             Holmes
             ,
             whose
             name
             shal
             live
             in
             Epique
             Song
             ,
          
           
             While
             Musick
             Numbers
             ,
             or
             while
             Verse
             has
             Fleet.
             
          
        
         
           
             173.
             
          
           
             Holmes
             ,
             the
             Achates
             of
             the
             Gen'rals
             fight
             ,
          
           
             VVho
             first
             bewitch'd
             our
             eyes
             with
             Guinny
             Gold
             :
          
           
             As
             once
             old
             Cato
             in
             the
             Roman's
             sight
          
           
             The
             tempting
             fruits
             of
             Africk
             did
             unfold
             .
          
        
         
           
             174.
             
          
           
             VVith
             him
             went
             Sprag
             ,
             as
             bountiful
             as
             brave
             ,
          
           
             VVhom
             his
             high
             courage
             to
             command
             had
             brought
             :
          
           
             Harm●n
             ,
             who
             did
             the
             twice
             fir'd
             Harry
             save
             ,
          
           
             And
             in
             his
             burning
             ship
             undaunted
             fought
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             175.
             
          
           
             Young
             Hollis
             ,
             on
             a
             Muse
             by
             Mars
             begot
             ,
          
           
             Born
             ,
             Cesar-like
             ,
             to
             write
             and
             act
             great
             deeds
             :
          
           
             Impatient
             to
             revenge
             his
             fatal
             shot
             ,
          
           
             His
             right
             hand
             doubly
             to
             his
             left
             succeeds
             .
          
        
         
           
             176.
             
          
           
             Thousands
             were
             there
             in
             darker
             fame
             that
             dwell
             ,
          
           
             VVhose
             deeds
             some
             nobler
             Poem
             shall
             adorn
             ▪
          
           
             And
             ,
             though
             to
             me
             unknown
             ,
             they
             ,
             sure
             ,
             fought
             well
             ,
          
           
             VVhom
             Rupert
             led
             ,
             and
             who
             were
             British
             born
             .
          
        
         
           
             177.
             
          
           
             Of
             every
             size
             an
             hundred
             fighting
             Sail
             ,
          
           
             So
             vast
             the
             Navy
             now
             at
             Anchor
             rides
             ,
          
           
             That
             underneath
             it
             the
             press'd
             waters
             fail
             ,
          
           
             And
             ,
             with
             its
             weight
             ,
             it
             shoulders
             off
             the
             Tydes
             .
          
        
         
           
             178.
             
          
           
             Now
             Anchors
             weigh'd
             ,
             the
             Sea-men
             shout
             so
             shrill
             ,
          
           
             That
             Heav'n
             &
             Earth
             and
             the
             wide
             Ocean
             rings
             :
          
           
             A
             breeze
             from
             VVestward
             waits
             their
             sails
             to
             fill
             ,
          
           
             And
             rests
             ,
             in
             those
             high
             beds
             ,
             his
             downy
             wings
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             179.
             
          
           
             The
             wary
             Dutch
             this
             gathering
             storm
             foresaw
             ,
          
           
             And
             durst
             not
             bide
             it
             on
             the
             English
             coast
             :
          
           
             Behind
             their
             treach'rous
             shallows
             they
             withdraw
             ,
          
           
             And
             their
             lay
             snares
             to
             catch
             the
             British
             Hoast
             .
          
        
         
           
             180.
             
          
           
             So
             the
             false
             Spider
             ,
             when
             her
             Nets
             are
             spread
             ,
          
           
             Deep
             ambush'd
             in
             her
             silent
             den
             does
             lie
             :
          
           
             And
             feels
             ,
             far
             off
             ,
             the
             trembling
             of
             her
             thread
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             filmy
             cord
             should
             bind
             the
             strugling
             Fly.
             
          
        
         
           
             181.
             
          
           
             Then
             ,
             if
             at
             last
             ,
             she
             find
             him
             fast
             beset
             ,
          
           
             She
             issues
             forth
             ,
             and
             runs
             along
             her
             Loom
             :
          
           
             She
             joys
             to
             touch
             the
             Captive
             in
             her
             Net
             ,
          
           
             And
             drags
             the
             little
             wretch
             in
             triumph
             home
             .
          
        
         
           
             182.
             
          
           
             The
             Belgians
             hop'd
             that
             ,
             with
             disorder'd
             haste
             ,
          
           
             Our
             deep-cut
             keels
             upon
             the
             sands
             might
             run
             :
          
           
             Or
             ,
             if
             with
             caution
             leisurely
             were
             past
             ,
          
           
             Their
             numerous
             gross
             might
             charge
             us
             one
             by
             one
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             183.
             
          
           
             But
             ,
             with
             a
             fore-wind
             pushing
             them
             above
             ,
          
           
             And
             swelling
             tyde
             that
             heav'd
             them
             from
             below
             ,
          
           
             O'r
             the
             blind
             flots
             our
             warlike
             Squadrons
             move
             ,
          
           
             And
             ,
             with
             spread
             sails
             ,
             to
             welcome
             Battel
             go
             .
          
        
         
           
             184.
             
          
           
             It
             seem'd
             as
             there
             the
             
               British
               Neptune
            
             stood
             ,
          
           
             With
             all
             his
             host
             of
             waters
             at
             command
             ,
          
           
             Beneath
             them
             to
             submit
             th'officious
             floud
             :
          
           
             u
             And
             ,
             with
             his
             Trident
             ,
             shov'd
             them
             off
             the
             sand
             .
          
        
         
           
             185.
             
          
           
             To
             the
             pale
             foes
             they
             suddenly
             draw
             near
             ,
          
           
             And
             summon
             them
             to
             unexpected
             fight
             :
          
           
             They
             start
             like
             Murderers
             when
             Ghosts
             appear
             ,
          
           
             And
             draw
             their
             Curtains
             in
             the
             dead
             of
             night
             .
          
        
         
           
             186.
             
          
           
             Now
             Van
             to
             Van
             the
             formost
             Squadrons
             meet
             ,
          
           
             The
             midmost
             Battels
             hasting
             up
             behind
             ,
          
           
             VVho
             view
             ,
             far
             off
             ,
             the
             storm
             of
             falling
             Sleet
             ,
          
           
             And
             hear
             their
             thunder
             ratling
             in
             the
             wind
             .
             
          
        
         
           
           
             187.
             
          
           
             At
             length
             the
             adverse
             Admirals
             appear
             :
          
           
             (
             The
             two
             bold
             Champions
             of
             each
             Countries
             right
             )
          
           
             Their
             eyes
             describe
             the
             lists
             as
             they
             come
             near
             ,
          
           
             And
             draw
             the
             lines
             of
             death
             before
             they
             fight
             .
          
        
         
           
             188.
             
          
           
             The
             distance
             judg'd
             for
             shot
             of
             every
             size
             ,
          
           
             The
             Linstocks
             touch
             ,
             the
             pond'rous
             ball
             expires
             :
          
           
             The
             vig'rous
             Sea-man
             every
             port-hole
             plies
             ,
          
           
             And
             adds
             his
             heart
             to
             every
             Gun
             he
             fires
             .
          
        
         
           
             189.
             
          
           
             Fierce
             was
             the
             fight
             on
             the
             proud
             Belgians
             side
             ,
          
           
             For
             honour
             ,
             which
             they
             seldome
             sought
             before
             :
          
           
             But
             now
             they
             by
             their
             own
             vain
             boasts
             were
             ti'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             forc'd
             ,
             at
             least
             in
             show
             ,
             to
             prize
             it
             more
             .
          
        
         
           
             190.
             
          
           
             But
             sharp
             remembrance
             on
             the
             English
             part
             ,
          
           
             And
             shame
             of
             being
             match'd
             by
             such
             a
             foe
             :
          
           
             Rouze
             conscious
             vertue
             up
             in
             every
             heart
             ,
          
           
             w
             And
             seeming
             to
             be
             stronger
             makes
             them
             so
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             191.
             
          
           
             Nor
             long
             the
             Belgians
             could
             that
             Fleet
             sustain
             ,
          
           
             Which
             did
             two
             Gen'rals
             fates
             ,
             and
             Cesar's
             bear
             .
          
           
             Each
             several
             Ship
             a
             victory
             did
             gain
             ,
          
           
             As
             Rupert
             or
             as
             Albemarl
             were
             there
             .
          
        
         
           
             192.
             
          
           
             Their
             batter'd
             Admiral
             too
             soon
             withdrew
             ,
          
           
             Unthank'd
             by
             ours
             for
             his
             unfinish'd
             ●ight
             :
          
           
             But
             he
             the
             minds
             of
             his
             Dutch
             Masters
             knew
             ,
          
           
             Who
             call'd
             that
             providence
             which
             we
             call'd
             flight
             .
          
        
         
           
             193.
             
          
           
             Never
             did
             men
             more
             joyfully
             obey
             ,
          
           
             Or
             sooner
             understood
             the
             sign
             to
             flie
             :
          
           
             With
             such
             alacrity
             they
             bore
             away
             ,
          
           
             As
             if
             to
             praise
             them
             all
             the
             States
             stood
             by
             .
          
        
         
           
             194.
             
          
           
             O
             famous
             Leader
             of
             the
             Belgian
             Fleet
             ,
          
           
             Thy
             Monument
             inscrib'd
             such
             praise
             shall
             wear
          
           
             As
             Verro
             ,
             timely
             flying
             ,
             once
             did
             meet
             ,
          
           
             Because
             he
             did
             not
             of
             his
             Rome
             despair
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             195.
             
          
           
             Behold
             that
             Navy
             which
             a
             while
             before
          
           
             Provok'd
             the
             tardy
             English
             to
             the
             fight
             ,
          
           
             Now
             draw
             their
             beaten
             vessels
             close
             to
             shore
             ,
          
           
             As
             Larks
             lie
             dar'd
             to
             shun
             the
             Hobbies
             flight
             .
          
        
         
           
             196.
             
          
           
             Who
             ere
             would
             English
             Monuments
             survey
             ,
          
           
             In
             other
             records
             may
             our
             courage
             know
             :
          
           
             But
             let
             them
             hide
             the
             story
             of
             this
             day
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             fame
             was
             blemish'd
             by
             too
             base
             a
             foe
             .
          
        
         
           
             197.
             
          
           
             Or
             if
             too
             busily
             they
             will
             enquire
          
           
             Into
             a
             victory
             which
             we
             disdain
             :
          
           
             Then
             let
             them
             know
             ,
             the
             Belgians
             did
             retire
          
           
             x
             Before
             the
             Patron
             Saint
             of
             injur'd
             Spain
             .
          
        
         
           
             198.
             
          
           
             Repenting
             England
             this
             revengeful
             day
          
           
             y
             To
             Philip's
             Manes
             did
             an
             off'ring
             bring
             .
          
           
             England
             ,
             which
             first
             ,
             by
             leading
             them
             astray
             ,
          
           
             Hatch'd
             up
             Rebellion
             to
             destroy
             her
             King.
             
          
        
         
           
           
             199.
             
          
           
             Our
             Fathers
             bent
             their
             baneful
             industry
          
           
             To
             check
             a
             Monarchy
             that
             slowly
             grew
             :
          
           
             But
             did
             not
             France
             or
             Holland's
             fate
             foresee
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             rising
             pow'r
             to
             swift
             Dominion
             flew
             .
          
        
         
           
             200.
             
          
           
             In
             fortunes
             Empire
             blindly
             thus
             we
             go
             ,
          
           
             And
             wander
             after
             pathless
             destiny
             :
          
           
             Whose
             dark
             resorts
             since
             prudence
             cannot
             know
             .
          
           
             In
             vain
             it
             would
             provide
             for
             what
             shall
             be
             .
          
        
         
           
             201.
             
          
           
             But
             what
             ere
             English
             to
             the
             bless'd
             shall
             go
             ,
          
           
             And
             the
             fourth
             Harry
             or
             first
             Orange
             me●t
             :
          
           
             Find
             him
             disowning
             of
             a
             Burbon
             foe
             ,
          
           
             And
             him
             detesting
             a
             Batavian
             Fleet.
             
          
        
         
           
             202.
             
          
           
             Now
             on
             their
             coasts
             our
             conquering
             Navy
             rides
             ,
          
           
             Way-lays
             their
             Merchants
             ,
             and
             their
             Land
             besets
             ▪
          
           
             Each
             day
             new
             wealth
             without
             their
             care
             provides
             ,
          
           
             They
             lie
             asleep
             with
             prizes
             in
             their
             nets
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             203.
             
          
           
             So
             ,
             close
             behind
             ●ome
             Promontory
             lie
          
           
             The
             ●uge
             Leviathans
             t'
             attend
             their
             prey
             :
          
           
             And
             give
             no
             chace
             ,
             but
             swallow
             in
             the
             frie
             ,
          
           
             Which
             through
             their
             gaping
             jaws
             mistake
             the
             way
             .
          
        
         
           
             204.
             
          
           
             Nor
             was
             this
             all
             :
             in
             Ports
             and
             Roads
             remote
             ,
          
           
             Destructive
             Fires
             among
             whole
             Fleets
             we
             send
             :
          
           
             Triumphant
             flames
             upon
             the
             water
             flote
             ,
          
           
             And
             out-bound
             ships
             at
             home
             their
             voyage
             end
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             205.
             
          
           
             Those
             various
             Squadrons
             ,
             variously
             design'd
             ,
          
           
             Each
             vessel
             fraighted
             with
             a
             several
             load
             :
          
           
             Each
             Squadron
             waiting
             for
             a
             several
             wind
             ,
          
           
             All
             find
             but
             one
             ,
             to
             burn
             them
             in
             the
             Road.
             
          
        
         
           
             206.
             
          
           
             Some
             bo●nd
             for
             Guinny
             ,
             golden
             sand
             to
             find
             ,
          
           
             Bore
             all
             the
             gawds
             the
             simple
             Natives
             wear
             :
          
           
             Some
             for
             the
             pride
             of
             ●urkish
             Courts
             design'd
             ,
          
           
             ●or
             folded
             Turbans
             finest
             Holland
             bear
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             207.
             
          
           
             Some
             English
             Wool
             ,
             vex'd
             in
             a
             Belgian
             Loom
             ,
          
           
             And
             into
             Cloth
             of
             spungy
             softness
             made
             :
          
           
             Did
             into
             France
             or
             colder
             De●mark
             doom
             ,
          
           
             To
             ruine
             with
             worse
             ware
             our
             staple
             Trade
             .
          
        
         
           
             208.
             
          
           
             Our
             greedy
             Sea-men
             rummage
             every
             hold
             ,
          
           
             Smiles
             on
             the
             booty
             of
             each
             wealthier
             Chest
             :
          
           
             And
             ,
             as
             the
             Priests
             who
             with
             their
             gods
             make
             bold
             ,
          
           
             Take
             what
             they
             like
             ,
             and
             sacrifice
             the
             rest
             .
          
        
         
           
             209.
             
          
           
             But
             ha
             !
             ●how
             ,
             unsincere
             are
             all
             our
             joys
             !
          
           
             Which
             ,
             sent
             from
             Heav'n
             ,
             like
             Lightning
             make
             no
             stay
             :
          
           
             Their
             falling
             taste
             the
             journeys
             length
             destroys
             ,
          
           
             Or
             grief
             ,
             sent
             post
             ,
             o'r-takes
             them
             on
             the
             way
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             210.
             
          
           
             Swell'd
             with
             our
             ●ate
             successes
             on
             the
             Foe
             ,
          
           
             Which
             France
             and
             Holland
             wanted
             power
             to
             cross
             :
          
           
             We
             urge
             an
             unseen
             Fate
             to
             lay
             us
             low
             ,
          
           
             And
             feed
             their
             envious
             eyes
             with
             English
             loss
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             211.
             
          
           
             Each
             Element
             his
             dread
             command
             obeys
             ,
          
           
             Who
             makes
             or
             ruines
             with
             a
             smile
             or
             frown
             ;
          
           
             Who
             as
             by
             one
             he
             did
             our
             Nation
             raise
             ,
          
           
             So
             now
             he
             with
             another
             pulls
             us
             down
             .
          
        
         
           
             212.
             
          
           
             Yet
             ,
             London
             ,
             Empress
             of
             the
             Northern
             Clime
             ,
          
           
             By
             an
             high
             fate
             thou
             greatly
             didst
             expire
             ;
          
           
             z
             Great
             as
             the
             worlds
             ,
             which
             at
             the
             death
             of
             time
          
           
             Must
             fall
             ,
             and
             rise
             a
             nobler
             frame
             by
             fire
             .
          
        
         
           
             213.
             
          
           
             As
             when
             some
             dire
             Usurper
             Heav'n
             provides
             ,
          
           
             To
             scourge
             his
             Country
             with
             a
             lawless
             sway
             :
          
           
             His
             birth
             ,
             perhaps
             ,
             some
             petty
             Village
             hides
             ,
          
           
             And
             sets
             his
             Cradle
             out
             of
             Fortune's
             way
             :
          
        
         
           
             214.
             
          
           
             Till
             fully
             ripe
             his
             swelling
             fate
             breaks
             out
             ,
          
           
             And
             hurries
             him
             to
             mighty
             mischiefs
             on
             :
          
           
             His
             Prince
             surpriz'd
             at
             first
             ,
             no
             ill
             could
             doubt
             ,
          
           
             And
             wants
             the
             pow'r
             to
             meet
             it
             when
             't
             is
             known
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             215.
             
          
           
             Such
             was
             the
             rise
             of
             this
             prodigious
             fire
             ,
          
           
             Which
             in
             mean
             buildings
             first
             obscurely
             bred
             ,
          
           
             From
             thence
             did
             soon
             to
             open
             streets
             aspire
             ,
          
           
             And
             straight
             to
             Palaces
             and
             Temples
             spread
             .
          
        
         
           
             216.
             
          
           
             The
             diligence
             of
             Trades
             and
             noiseful
             gain
             ,
          
           
             And
             luxury
             ,
             more
             late
             ,
             asleep
             were
             laid
             :
          
           
             All
             was
             the
             nights
             ,
             and
             in
             her
             silent
             reign
             ,
          
           
             No
             sound
             the
             rest
             of
             Nature
             did
             invade
             .
          
        
         
           
             217.
             
          
           
             In
             this
             deep
             quiet
             ,
             from
             what
             scource
             unknown
             ,
          
           
             Those
             seeds
             of
             fire
             their
             fatal
             birth
             disclose
             :
          
           
             And
             first
             ,
             few
             scatt'ring
             sparks
             about
             were
             blown
             ,
          
           
             Big
             with
             the
             flames
             that
             to
             our
             ruine
             rose
             .
          
        
         
           
             218.
             
          
           
             Then
             ,
             in
             some
             close-pent
             room
             it
             crept
             along
             ,
          
           
             And
             ,
             smouldring
             as
             it
             went
             ,
             in
             silence
             fed
             :
          
           
             Till
             th'infant
             monster
             ,
             with
             devouring
             strong
             ,
          
           
             Walk'd
             boldly
             upright
             with
             exalted
             head
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             219.
             
          
           
             Now
             ,
             like
             some
             rich
             or
             mighty
             Murderer
             ,
          
           
             To
             great
             for
             prison
             ,
             which
             he
             breaks
             with
             gold
             ▪
          
           
             Who
             fresher
             for
             new
             mischiefs
             does
             appear
             ,
          
           
             And
             dares
             the
             world
             to
             tax
             him
             with
             the
             old
             .
          
        
         
           
             220.
             
          
           
             So
             scapes
             th'
             insulting
             fire
             his
             narrow
             Jail
             ,
          
           
             And
             makes
             small
             out-lets
             into
             open
             air
             :
          
           
             There
             the
             fierce
             winds
             his
             open
             force
             assail
             ,
          
           
             And
             beat
             him
             down-ward
             to
             his
             first
             repair
             .
          
        
         
           
             221.
             
          
           
             a
             The
             winds
             ,
             like
             crafty
             Courtezans
             ,
             with-held
          
           
             His
             flames
             from
             burning
             ,
             but
             to
             blow
             them
             more
             :
          
           
             And
             ,
             every
             fresh
             attempt
             ,
             he
             is
             repell'd
          
           
             With
             faint
             denials
             ,
             weaker
             then
             before
             .
          
        
         
           
             222.
             
          
           
             And
             now
             ,
             no
             longer
             letted
             of
             his
             prey
             ,
          
           
             He
             leaps
             up
             at
             it
             with
             inrag'd
             desire
             :
          
           
             O'r-looks
             the
             neighbours
             with
             a
             wide
             survey
             ,
          
           
             And
             nods
             at
             ●very
             house
             his
             threatning
             fire
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             223.
             
          
           
             The
             Ghosts
             of
             Traitors
             ,
             from
             the
             Bridge
             descend
             ,
          
           
             With
             bold
             Fanatick
             Spectres
             to
             rejoyce
             :
          
           
             About
             the
             fire
             into
             a
             Dance
             they
             bend
             ,
          
           
             And
             sing
             their
             Sabbath
             Notes
             with
             feeble
             voice
             .
          
        
         
           
             224.
             
          
           
             Our
             Guardian
             Angel
             saw
             them
             where
             he
             sate
          
           
             Above
             the
             Palace
             of
             our
             slumbring
             King
             ,
          
           
             He
             sigh'd
             ,
             abandoning
             his
             charge
             to
             Fate
             ,
          
           
             And
             ,
             drooping
             ,
             oft
             look
             back
             upon
             the
             wing
             .
          
        
         
           
             225.
             
          
           
             At
             length
             the
             cra●kling
             noise
             and
             dreadful
             blaze
             ,
          
           
             Call'd
             up
             some
             waking
             Lover
             to
             the
             sight
             :
          
           
             And
             long
             it
             was
             ere
             he
             the
             rest
             could
             raise
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             heavy
             eye-lids
             yet
             were
             full
             of
             night
             .
          
        
         
           
             226.
             
          
           
             The
             next
             to
             danger
             ,
             hot
             pursu'd
             by
             fate
             ,
          
           
             Half
             cloth'd
             ,
             half
             naked
             ,
             hastily
             retire
             :
          
           
             And
             frighted
             Mother
             strike
             their
             breasts
             ,
             too
             late
             ,
          
           
             For
             helpless
             Infants
             left
             amidst
             the
             fire
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             227.
             
          
           
             Their
             cries
             soon
             waken
             all
             the
             dwellers
             near
             :
          
           
             Now
             murmuring
             noises
             rise
             in
             every
             street
             ▪
          
           
             The
             more
             remote
             run
             s●umbling
             with
             their
             fear
             ,
          
           
             And
             ,
             in
             the
             dark
             ,
             men
             justle
             as
             they
             meet
             .
          
        
         
           
             228.
             
          
           
             So
             weary
             Bees
             in
             little
             Cells
             repose
             ▪
          
           
             But
             if
             night-robbers
             lift
             the
             well-stor'd
             Hive
             ,
          
           
             An
             humming
             through
             their
             waxen
             City
             grows
             ,
          
           
             And
             out
             upon
             each
             others
             wings
             they
             drive
             .
          
        
         
           
             229.
             
          
           
             Now
             stree●s
             grow
             throng'd
             and
             busie
             as
             by
             day
             :
          
           
             Some
             run
             for
             Buckets
             to
             the
             hallow'd
             Quire
             :
          
           
             Some
             cut
             the
             Pipes
             ,
             and
             some
             the
             Engines
             play
             ,
          
           
             And
             some
             more
             bold
             mount
             Ladders
             to
             the
             fire
             .
          
        
         
           
             230.
             
          
           
             In
             vain
             :
             for
             ,
             from
             the
             East
             ,
             a
             Belgian
             wind
             ,
          
           
             His
             hostile
             breath
             through
             the
             dry
             rafters
             sent
             :
          
           
             The
             flames
             impell●d
             ,
             soon
             left
             their
             foes
             behind
             ,
          
           
             And
             forward
             ,
             with
             a
             wanton
             fury
             went.
             
          
        
         
           
           
             231.
             
          
           
             A
             Key
             of
             fire
             ran
             all
             along
             the
             shore
             ,
          
           
             b
             And
             lighten'd
             all
             the
             River
             with
             the
             blaze
             :
          
           
             The
             waken'd
             Tydes
             began
             again
             to
             roar
             ,
          
           
             And
             wond'ring
             Fish
             in
             shining
             waters
             gaze
             .
          
        
         
           
             231.
             
          
           
             Old
             Father
             Thames
             rais'd
             up
             his
             reverend
             head
             ,
          
           
             But
             fear'd
             the
             fate
             of
             Simoeis
             would
             return
             :
          
           
             Deep
             in
             his
             Ooze
             he
             sought
             his
             sedgy
             bed
             ,
          
           
             And
             shrunk
             his
             wate●s
             back
             into
             his
             Urn.
             
          
        
         
           
             233.
             
          
           
             The
             fire
             ,
             mean
             time
             ,
             walks
             in
             a
             broader
             gross
             ,
          
           
             To
             either
             hand
             his
             wings
             he
             opens
             wide
             :
          
           
             He
             wades
             the
             streets
             ,
             &
             straight
             he
             reaches
             cross
             ,
          
           
             And
             plays
             his
             longing
             flames
             on
             th'
             other
             side
             .
          
        
         
           
             234.
             
          
           
             At
             first
             they
             warm
             ,
             then
             scorch
             ,
             and
             then
             they
             take
             :
          
           
             Now
             with
             long
             necks
             from
             side
             to
             side
             they
             feed
             :
          
           
             At
             length
             ,
             grown
             strong
             ,
             their
             Mother
             fire
             forsake
             ,
          
           
             And
             a
             new
             Collony
             of
             flames
             succeed
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             235.
             
          
           
             To
             every
             nobler
             portion
             of
             the
             Town
             ,
          
           
             The
             curling
             billows
             roul
             their
             restless
             ●yde
             :
          
           
             In
             parties
             now
             they
             straggle
             up
             and
             down
             ,
          
           
             As
             Armies
             ,
             unoppos'd
             ,
             for
             prey
             divide
             .
          
        
         
           
             236.
             
          
           
             One
             mighty
             Squadron
             ,
             with
             a
             side
             wind
             sped
             ,
          
           
             Through
             narrow
             lanes
             his
             cumb●r'd
             fire
             does
             haste
             :
          
           
             By
             pow'rful
             charms
             of
             gold
             and
             silver
             led
             ,
          
           
             The
             Lombard
             Banquers
             and
             the
             Change
             to
             waste
             .
          
        
         
           
             237.
             
          
           
             Another
             backward
             to
             the
             〈◊〉
             would
             go
             ,
          
           
             And
             slowly
             ea●s
             his
             way
             against
             the
             wind
             ▪
          
           
             But
             the
             main
             body
             of
             the
             marching
             foe
             :
          
           
             Against
             th'
             Imperial
             Palace
             is
             design'd
             .
          
        
         
           
             238.
             
          
           
             Now
             day
             appears
             ,
             and
             with
             the
             day
             the
             King
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             early
             care
             had
             robb'd
             him
             of
             his
             rest
             :
          
           
             Far
             off
             the
             cracks
             of
             falling
             houses
             ring
             ,
          
           
             And
             shrieks
             of
             subjects
             pierce
             his
             tender
             breast
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             239.
             
          
           
             Near
             as
             he
             draws
             ,
             thick
             harbingers
             of
             smoke
             ,
          
           
             With
             gloomy
             pillars
             ,
             cover
             all
             the
             place
             :
          
           
             Whose
             little
             intervals
             of
             night
             are
             broke
          
           
             By
             sparks
             that
             drive
             against
             his
             Sacred
             Face
             .
          
        
         
           
             240.
             
          
           
             More
             then
             his
             Guards
             his
             sorrows
             made
             him
             known
             ,
          
           
             And
             pious
             tears
             which
             down
             his
             cheeks
             did
             show'r
             :
          
           
             The
             wretched
             in
             his
             grief
             forgot
             their
             own
             :
          
           
             (
             So
             much
             the
             pity
             of
             a
             King
             has
             pow'r
             .
             )
          
        
         
           
             241.
             
          
           
             He
             wept
             the
             flames
             of
             what
             he
             lov'd
             so
             well
             ,
          
           
             And
             what
             so
             well
             had
             merited
             his
             love
             .
          
           
             For
             never
             Prince
             in
             grace
             did
             more
             excel
             ,
          
           
             Or
             Royal
             City
             more
             in
             duty
             strove
             .
          
        
         
           
             242.
             
          
           
             Nor
             with
             an
             idle
             care
             did
             he
             behold
             :
          
           
             (
             Subjects
             may
             grieve
             ,
             but
             Monarchs
             must
             redress
             .
             )
          
           
             He
             chears
             the
             fearful
             ,
             and
             commends
             the
             bold
             ,
          
           
             And
             makes
             despairers
             hope
             for
             good
             success
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             243.
             
          
           
             Himself
             directs
             what
             first
             is
             to
             be
             done
             ,
          
           
             And
             orders
             all
             the
             succours
             which
             they
             bring
             .
          
           
             The
             helpful
             and
             the
             good
             about
             him
             run
             ,
          
           
             And
             form
             an
             Army
             worthy
             such
             a
             King.
             
          
        
         
           
             244.
             
          
           
             He
             sees
             the
             dire
             contagion
             spread
             so
             fast
             ,
          
           
             That
             where
             it
             seizes
             ,
             all
             relief
             is
             vain
             :
          
           
             And
             therefore
             must
             unwillingly
             lay
             waste
          
           
             That
             Country
             which
             would
             ,
             else
             ,
             the
             foe
             maintain
             .
          
        
         
           
             245.
             
          
           
             The
             powder
             blows
             up
             all
             before
             the
             fire
             :
          
           
             Th'
             amazed
             flames
             stand
             gather'd
             on
             a
             heap
             ;
          
           
             And
             from
             the
             precipices
             brinck
             retire
             ,
          
           
             Afraid
             to
             venture
             on
             so
             large
             a
             leap
             .
          
        
         
           
             246.
             
          
           
             Thus
             fighting
             fires
             a
             while
             themselves
             consume
             ,
          
           
             But
             straight
             ,
             like
             Turks
             ,
             forc'd
             on
             to
             win
             or
             die
             ▪
          
           
             They
             first
             lay
             ●ender
             bridges
             of
             their
             fume
             ,
          
           
             And
             o'r
             the
             breach
             in
             unctuous
             vapours
             flie
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             247.
             
          
           
             Part
             stays
             for
             passage
             till
             a
             gust
             of
             wind
          
           
             Ships
             o'r
             their
             forces
             in
             a
             shining
             sheet
             :
          
           
             Part
             ,
             creeping
             under
             ground
             ,
             their
             journey
             blind
             ,
          
           
             And
             ,
             climbing
             from
             below
             ,
             their
             fellows
             meet
             .
          
        
         
           
             248.
             
          
           
             Thus
             ,
             to
             some
             desart
             plain
             ,
             or
             old
             wood
             side
             ,
          
           
             Dire
             night
             has
             come
             from
             far
             to
             dance
             their
             round
             :
          
           
             And
             o'r
             brode
             Rivers
             on
             their
             fiends
             they
             ride
             ,
          
           
             Or
             sweep
             in
             clowds
             above
             the
             blasted
             ground
             .
          
        
         
           
             249.
             
          
           
             No
             help
             avails
             :
             for
             ,
             Hydra-like
             ,
             the
             fire
             ,
          
           
             Lifts
             up
             his
             hundred
             heads
             to
             aim
             his
             way
             .
          
           
             And
             scarce
             the
             wealthy
             can
             one
             half
             retire
             ,
          
           
             Before
             he
             rushes
             in
             to
             share
             the
             prey
             .
          
        
         
           
             250.
             
          
           
             The
             rich
             grow
             suppliant
             ,
             &
             the
             poor
             grow
             proud
             :
          
           
             Those
             offer
             mighty
             gain
             ,
             and
             these
             ask
             more
             .
          
           
             So
             void
             of
             pity
             is
             th'
             ignoble
             crowd
             ,
          
           
             When
             others
             ruine
             may
             increase
             their
             store
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             251.
             
          
           
             As
             those
             who
             live
             by
             shores
             with
             joy
             behold
          
           
             Some
             wealthy
             vessel
             split
             or
             stranded
             nigh
             ;
          
           
             And
             ,
             from
             the
             Rocks
             ,
             leap
             down
             for
             shipwrack'd
             Gold
             ,
          
           
             And
             seek
             the
             Tempest
             which
             the
             others
             flie
             .
          
        
         
           
             252.
             
          
           
             So
             these
             but
             wait
             the
             Owners
             last
             despair
             ,
          
           
             And
             what
             's
             permitted
             to
             the
             flames
             invade
             :
          
           
             Ev'n
             from
             their
             jaws
             they
             hungry
             morsels
             tear
             ,
          
           
             And
             ,
             on
             their
             backs
             ,
             the
             spoils
             of
             Vulcan
             lade
             .
          
        
         
           
             253.
             
          
           
             The
             days
             were
             all
             in
             this
             lost
             labour
             spent
             ;
          
           
             And
             when
             the
             weary
             King
             gave
             place
             to
             night
             ,
          
           
             His
             Beams
             he
             to
             his
             Royal
             Brother
             lent
             ,
          
           
             And
             so
             shone
             still
             in
             his
             reflective
             light
             .
          
        
         
           
             254.
             
          
           
             Night
             came
             ,
             but
             without
             darkness
             or
             repose
             ,
          
           
             A
             dismal
             picture
             of
             the
             gen'ral
             doom
             :
          
           
             Where
             Souls
             distracted
             when
             the
             Trumpet
             blows
          
           
             And
             half
             unready
             with
             their
             bodies
             come
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             255.
             
          
           
             Those
             who
             have
             homes
             ,
             when
             home
             they
             do
             repair
          
           
             To
             a
             last
             lodging
             call
             their
             wand'ring
             friends
             .
          
           
             Their
             short
             uneasie
             sleeps
             are
             broke
             with
             care
             ,
          
           
             To
             look
             how
             near
             their
             own
             destruction
             tends
             .
          
        
         
           
             256.
             
          
           
             Those
             who
             have
             none
             sit
             round
             where
             once
             it
             was
             ,
          
           
             And
             with
             full
             eyes
             each
             wonted
             room
             require
             :
          
           
             Haunting
             the
             yet
             warm
             ashes
             of
             the
             place
             ,
          
           
             As
             murder'd
             men
             walk
             where
             they
             did
             expire
             .
          
        
         
           
             257.
             
          
           
             Some
             stir
             up
             coals
             and
             watch
             the
             Vestal
             fire
             ,
          
           
             Others
             in
             vain
             from
             sight
             of
             ruine
             run
             :
          
           
             And
             ,
             while
             through
             burning
             Lab'rinths
             they
             retire
             ,
          
           
             With
             loathing
             eyes
             repeat
             what
             they
             would
             shun
             .
          
        
         
           
             258.
             
          
           
             The
             most
             ,
             in
             fields
             ,
             like
             herded
             beasts
             lie
             down
             ;
          
           
             To
             dews
             obnoxious
             on
             the
             grassie
             floor
             :
          
           
             And
             while
             their
             ●abes
             in
             sleep
             their
             sorrows
             drown
             ,
          
           
             Sad
             Parents
             watch
             the
             〈◊〉
             of
             t●eir
             store
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             259.
             
          
           
             While
             by
             the
             motion
             of
             the
             flames
             they
             ghess
          
           
             What
             streets
             are
             burning
             now
             ,
             &
             what
             are
             near
             :
          
           
             An
             Infant
             ,
             waking
             ,
             to
             the
             paps
             would
             press
             ▪
          
           
             And
             meets
             ,
             instead
             of
             milk
             ,
             a
             falling
             tea●
             .
          
        
         
           
             260.
             
          
           
             No
             thought
             can
             ease
             them
             but
             their
             Sovereign's
             care
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             praise
             th'
             afflicted
             as
             their
             comfort
             sing
             :
          
           
             Ev'n
             those
             whom
             want
             might
             drive
             to
             just
             despair
             ,
          
           
             Think
             life
             a
             blessing
             under
             such
             a
             King.
             
          
        
         
           
             261.
             
          
           
             Mean
             time
             he
             sadly
             suffers
             in
             their
             grief
             ,
          
           
             Out-weeps
             an
             Hermite
             ,
             and
             out-prays
             a
             Saint
             :
          
           
             All
             the
             long
             night
             he
             studies
             their
             relief
             ,
          
           
             How
             they
             may
             be
             suppli'd
             ,
             and
             he
             may
             want
             .
          
        
         
           
             262.
             
          
           
             O
             God
             ,
             said
             he
             ,
             thou
             Patron
             of
             my
             days
             ,
          
           
             Guide
             of
             my
             youth
             in
             exile
             and
             distress
             !
          
           
             W●o
             me
             unfriended
             ,
             brought'st
             by
             wondrous
             ways
          
           
             The
             Kingdom
             of
             my
             Fathers
             to
             possess
             .
             
          
        
         
           
           
             263.
             
          
           
             Be
             thou
             my
             Judge
             ,
             with
             what
             unwearied
             care
          
           
             I
             since
             have
             labour'd
             for
             my
             People's
             good
             :
          
           
             To
             bind
             the
             bruises
             of
             a
             Civil
             Wa●
             ,
          
           
             And
             stop
             the
             issues
             of
             their
             wasting
             bloud
             .
          
        
         
           
             264.
             
          
           
             Thou
             ,
             who
             hast
             taught
             me
             to
             forgive
             the
             ill
             ,
          
           
             And
             recompense
             ,
             as
             friends
             the
             good
             ,
             mis●ed
             ;
          
           
             If
             mercy
             be
             a
             Precept
             of
             thy
             will
             ,
          
           
             Return
             that
             mercy
             on
             thy
             Servant's
             head
             .
          
        
         
           
             265.
             
          
           
             Or
             ,
             if
             my
             heedless
             Youth
             has
             stept
             astray
             ,
          
           
             Too
             soon
             forgetful
             of
             thy
             gracious
             hand
             :
          
           
             On
             me
             alone
             thy
             just
             displeasure
             lay
             ,
          
           
             But
             take
             thy
             judgments
             from
             this
             mourning
             Land.
             
          
        
         
           
             266.
             
          
           
             We
             all
             have
             sinn'd
             ,
             and
             thou
             hast
             laid
             us
             low
             ,
          
           
             As
             humble
             Earth
             from
             whence
             at
             first
             we
             came
             :
          
           
             Like
             flying
             shades
             before
             the
             clowds
             we
             show
             ,
          
           
             And
             shrink
             like
             Parchment
             in
             consuming
             〈◊〉
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             267.
             
          
           
             O
             let
             it
             be
             enough
             what
             thou
             hast
             done
             ,
          
           
             When
             spotted
             deaths
             ran
             arm'd
             through
             every
             street
             ,
          
           
             With
             poison'd
             darts
             ,
             which
             not
             the
             good
             could
             shun
             .
          
           
             The
             speedy
             could
             out-fly
             ,
             or
             valiant
             meet
             .
          
        
         
           
             268.
             
          
           
             The
             living
             few
             ,
             and
             frequent
             funerals
             then
             ,
          
           
             Proclam'd
             thy
             wrath
             on
             this
             forsaken
             place
             :
          
           
             And
             now
             those
             few
             who
             are
             return'd
             agen
          
           
             Thy
             searching
             judgments
             to
             their
             dwellings
             trace
             .
          
        
         
           
             269.
             
          
           
             O
             pass
             not
             ,
             Lord
             ,
             an
             absolute
             decree
             ,
          
           
             Or
             bind
             thy
             sentence
             unconditional
             :
          
           
             But
             in
             thy
             sentence
             our
             remorce
             foresee
             ,
          
           
             And
             ,
             in
             that
             foresight
             ,
             this
             thy
             doom
             recall
             .
          
        
         
           
             270.
             
          
           
             Thy
             threatnings
             ,
             Lord
             ,
             as
             thine
             ,
             thou
             maist
             revoke
             :
          
           
             But
             ,
             if
             immutable
             and
             fix'd
             they
             stand
             ,
          
           
             Continue
             still
             thy self
             to
             give
             the
             stroke
             ,
          
           
             And
             let
             not
             foreign
             foes
             oppress
             thy
             Land.
             
          
        
         
           
           
             271.
             
          
           
             Th'
             Eternal
             heard
             ,
             and
             from
             the
             Heav'nly
             Quire
             ,
          
           
             Chose
             out
             the
             Cherub
             with
             the
             flaming
             sword
             :
          
           
             And
             bad
             him
             swiftly
             drive
             th'
             approaching
             fire
          
           
             From
             where
             our
             Naval
             Magazins
             were
             stor'd
             .
          
        
         
           
             272.
             
          
           
             The
             blessed
             Minister
             his
             wings
             displai'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             like
             a
             shooting
             Star
             he
             cleft
             the
             night
             :
          
           
             He
             charg'd
             the
             flames
             ,
             and
             those
             that
             disobey'd
             ,
          
           
             He
             lash'd
             to
             duty
             with
             his
             sword
             of
             light
             .
          
        
         
           
             273.
             
          
           
             The
             fugitive
             flames
             ,
             chastis'd
             ,
             went
             forth
             to
             prey
          
           
             On
             pious
             Structures
             ,
             by
             our
             Fathers
             rear'd
             :
          
           
             By
             which
             to
             Heav'n
             they
             did
             affect
             the
             way
             ,
          
           
             Ere
             Faith
             in
             Church-men
             without
             Works
             was
             heard
             .
          
        
         
           
             274.
             
          
           
             The
             wanting
             Orphans
             saw
             ,
             with
             watry
             eyes
             ,
          
           
             Their
             Founders
             charity
             in
             dust
             laid
             low
             :
          
           
             And
             sent
             to
             God
             their
             ever-answer'd
             cries
             ,
          
           
             (
             For
             he
             protects
             the
             poor
             who
             made
             them
             so
             .
             )
          
        
         
           
           
             275.
             
          
           
             Nor
             could
             thy
             Fabrick
             ,
             Paul's
             ,
             defend
             thee
             long
             ,
          
           
             Though
             thou
             wert
             Sacred
             to
             thy
             Makers
             praise
             :
          
           
             Though
             made
             immortal
             by
             a
             Poet's
             Song
             ;
          
           
             And
             Poets
             Songs
             the
             Theban
             walls
             could
             raise
             .
          
        
         
           
             276.
             
          
           
             The
             dareing
             flames
             peep
             't
             in
             and
             saw
             from
             far
             ,
          
           
             The
             awful
             beauties
             of
             the
             Sacred
             Quire
             :
          
           
             But
             ,
             since
             it
             was
             prophan'd
             by
             Civil
             War
             ,
          
           
             Heav'n
             thought
             it
             fit
             to
             have
             it
             purg'd
             by
             fire
             .
          
        
         
           
             277.
             
          
           
             Now
             down
             the
             narrow
             streets
             it
             swiftly
             came
             ,
          
           
             And
             ,
             widely
             opening
             ,
             did
             on
             both
             sides
             prey
             .
          
           
             This
             benefit
             we
             sadly
             owe
             the
             flame
             ,
          
           
             If
             onely
             ruine
             must
             enlarge
             our
             way
             .
          
        
         
           
             278.
             
          
           
             And
             now
             four
             days
             the
             Sun
             had
             seen
             our
             woes
             ,
          
           
             Four
             ●ights
             the
             Moon
             beheld
             th'
             incessant
             fi●e
             :
          
           
             It
             seem'd
             as
             if
             the
             Stars
             more
             sickly
             rose
             ,
          
           
             And
             farther
             from
             the
             ●eav'rish
             North
             retire
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             279.
             
          
           
             In
             th'
             Empyrean
             Heaven
             ,
             (
             the
             bless'd
             abode
             )
          
           
             The
             Thrones
             and
             the
             Dominions
             prostrate
             lie
             ,
          
           
             Not
             daring
             to
             behold
             their
             angry
             God
             :
          
           
             And
             an
             hush'd
             silence
             damps
             the
             tune●ul
             sky
             .
          
        
         
           
             280.
             
          
           
             At
             length
             th'
             Almighty
             cast
             a
             pitying
             eye
             ,
          
           
             And
             mercy
             softly
             touch'd
             his
             melting
             breast
             :
          
           
             He
             saw
             the
             Town
             's
             one
             half
             in
             rubbish
             lie
             ,
          
           
             And
             eager
             flames
             give
             on
             to
             storm
             the
             rest
             .
          
        
         
           
             281.
             
          
           
             An
             hollow
             chrystal
             Pyramid
             he
             takes
             ,
          
           
             In
             firmamental
             waters
             dipt
             above
             ;
          
           
             Of
             it
             a
             brode
             Extinguisher
             he
             makes
             ,
          
           
             And
             hoods
             the
             flames
             that
             to
             their
             quarry
             strove
             .
          
        
         
           
             282.
             
          
           
             The
             vanquish'd
             fires
             withdraw
             from
             every
             place
             ,
          
           
             Or
             full
             with
             feeding
             ,
             sink
             into
             a
             sleep
             :
          
           
             Each
             houshold
             Genius
             shows
             again
             his
             face
             ,
          
           
             And
             ,
             from
             the
             hearths
             ,
             the
             little
             Lares
             creep
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             283.
             
          
           
             Our
             King
             this
             more
             then
             natural
             change
             beholds
             ;
          
           
             With
             sober
             joy
             his
             heart
             and
             eyes
             abound
             :
          
           
             To
             the
             All-good
             his
             lifted
             hands
             he
             folds
             ,
          
           
             And
             thanks
             him
             low
             on
             his
             redeemed
             ground
             .
          
        
         
           
             284.
             
          
           
             As
             when
             sharp
             frosts
             had
             long
             constrain'd
             the
             earth
             ,
          
           
             A
             kindly
             thaw
             unlocks
             it
             with
             mild
             rain
             :
          
           
             And
             first
             the
             tender
             blade
             peeps
             up
             to
             birth
             ,
          
           
             And
             straight
             the
             green
             fields
             laugh
             with
             promis'd
             grain
             :
          
        
         
           
             285.
             
          
           
             By
             such
             degrees
             ,
             the
             spreading
             gladness
             grew
          
           
             In
             every
             heart
             ,
             which
             fear
             had
             froze
             before
             :
          
           
             The
             standing
             streets
             with
             so
             much
             joy
             they
             view
             ,
          
           
             That
             with
             less
             grief
             the
             perish'd
             they
             deplore
             .
          
        
         
           
             286.
             
          
           
             The
             Father
             of
             the
             people
             open●d
             wide
          
           
             His
             stores
             ,
             and
             all
             the
             poor
             with
             plenty
             fed
             :
          
           
             Thus
             God's
             Annointed
             God'●
             own
             place
             suppli'd
             ,
          
           
             And
             fill'd
             the
             empty
             with
             his
             daily
             bread
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             287.
             
          
           
             This
             Royal
             bounty
             brought
             its
             own
             reward
             ,
          
           
             And
             ,
             in
             their
             minds
             ,
             so
             deep
             did
             print
             the
             sense
             :
          
           
             That
             if
             their
             ruines
             sadly
             they
             regard
             ,
          
           
             'T
             is
             but
             with
             fear
             the
             sight
             might
             drive
             him
             thence
             .
          
        
         
           
             289.
             
          
           
             But
             so
             may
             he
             live
             long
             ,
             that
             Town
             to
             sway
             ,
          
           
             Which
             by
             his
             Auspice
             they
             will
             nobler
             make
             ,
          
           
             As
             he
             will
             hatch
             their
             ashes
             by
             his
             sta●
             ,
          
           
             And
             not
             their
             humble
             ruines
             now
             forsake
             .
             
          
        
         
           
             290.
             
          
           
             They
             have
             not
             lost
             their
             Loyalty
             by
             fire
             ;
          
           
             Nor
             is
             their
             courage
             or
             their
             wealth
             so
             low
             ,
          
           
             That
             from
             his
             Wars
             they
             poorly
             would
             retire
             ,
          
           
             Or
             beg
             the
             pity
             of
             a
             vanquish'd
             foe
             .
          
        
         
           
             291.
             
          
           
             Not
             with
             more
             constancy
             the
             Iews
             of
             ol●
             ,
          
           
             By
             ●yrus
             from
             rewarded
             Exile
             sent
             :
          
           
             Their
             Royal
             City
             did
             in
             dust
             behold
             ,
          
           
             Or
             with
             more
             vigour
             to
             rebuild
             it
             went.
             
          
        
         
           
           
             292.
             
          
           
             The
             utmost
             malice
             of
             their
             Stars
             is
             past
             ,
          
           
             And
             two
             dire
             Comets
             which
             have
             scourg'd
             the
             Town
             ,
          
           
             In
             their
             own
             Plague
             and
             Fire
             have
             breath'd
             their
             last
             ,
          
           
             Or
             ,
             dimly
             ,
             in
             their
             sinking
             sockets
             frown
             .
          
        
         
           
             293.
             
          
           
             Now
             frequent
             Trines
             the
             happier
             lights
             among
             ,
          
           
             And
             high-rais'd
             Iove
             from
             his
             dark
             prison
             freed
             :
          
           
             (
             Those
             weights
             took
             off
             that
             on
             his
             Planet
             hung
             )
          
           
             Will
             gloriously
             the
             new
             laid
             work
             succeed
             .
          
        
         
           
             294.
             
          
           
             Me-thinks
             already
             ,
             from
             this
             Chymick
             flame
             ,
          
           
             I
             see
             a
             City
             of
             more
             precious
             mold
             ▪
          
           
             Rich
             as
             the
             Town
             which
             g●ves
             the
             c
             Indies
             name
             ,
          
           
             With
             Silver
             pav'd
             ,
             and
             all
             divine
             with
             Gold.
             
          
        
         
           
             295.
             
          
           
             Already
             ,
             Labouring
             with
             a
             mighty
             fate
             ,
          
           
             She
             shakes
             the
             rubbish
             from
             her
             mounting
             brow
             ,
          
           
             And
             seems
             to
             have
             renew'd
             her
             Cha●ters
             date
             ,
          
           
             Which
             Heav'n
             will
             to
             the
             death
             of
             time
             allow
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             296.
             
          
           
             More
             great
             then
             humane
             ,
             now
             ,
             and
             more
             d
             August
             ,
          
           
             New
             dei●i'd
             she
             from
             her
             fires
             does
             rise
             :
          
           
             Her
             widening
             streets
             on
             new
             foundations
             trust
             ,
          
           
             And
             ,
             opening
             ,
             into
             larger
             parts
             she
             flies
             .
          
        
         
           
             297.
             
          
           
             Before
             ,
             she
             like
             some
             Shepherdess
             did
             show
             ,
          
           
             Who
             sate
             to
             bathe
             her
             by
             a
             River's
             side
             :
          
           
             Not
             answering
             to
             her
             fame
             ,
             but
             rude
             and
             low
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             taught
             the
             beauteous
             Arts
             of
             Modern
             pride
             .
          
        
         
           
             298.
             
          
           
             Now
             ,
             like
             a
             Maiden
             Queen
             ,
             she
             will
             behold
             ,
          
           
             From
             her
             high
             Turrets
             ,
             hourly
             Sutors
             come
             :
          
           
             The
             East
             with
             Incense
             ,
             and
             the
             West
             with
             Gold
             ,
          
           
             Will
             stand
             ,
             like
             Suppliants
             ,
             to
             receive
             her
             doom
             .
          
        
         
           
             299.
             
          
           
             The
             silver
             Thames
             ,
             her
             own
             domestick
             Floud
             ,
          
           
             Shall
             bear
             her
             Vessels
             ,
             like
             a
             sweeping
             Train
             ;
          
           
             And
             often
             wind
             (
             as
             of
             his
             Mistress
             proud
             )
          
           
             With
             longing
             eyes
             to
             meet
             her
             face
             again
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             300.
             
          
           
             The
             wealthy
             Tagus
             ,
             and
             the
             wealthier
             Rhine
             ,
          
           
             The
             glory
             of
             their
             Towns
             no
             more
             shall
             boast
             :
          
           
             And
             Sein
             ,
             That
             would
             with
             Belgian
             Rivers
             joyn
             ,
          
           
             Shall
             find
             her
             lustre
             stain'd
             ,
             and
             Tra●fick
             lost
             .
          
        
         
           
             301.
             
          
           
             The
             vent'rous
             Merchant
             ,
             who
             design'd
             more
             far
             ,
          
           
             And
             touches
             on
             our
             hospitable
             shore
             :
          
           
             Charm'd
             with
             the
             splendour
             of
             this
             Northern
             Star
             ,
          
           
             Shall
             here
             unlade
             him
             ,
             and
             depart
             no
             more
             .
          
        
         
           
             302.
             
          
           
             Our
             pow'rful
             Navy
             shall
             no
             longer
             meet
             ,
          
           
             The
             wealth
             of
             France
             or
             Holland
             to
             invade
             :
          
           
             The
             beauty
             of
             this
             Town
             ,
             without
             a
             Fleet
             ,
          
           
             From
             all
             the
             world
             shall
             vindicate
             her
             Trade
             .
          
        
         
           
             303.
             
          
           
             And
             ,
             while
             this
             fam'd
             Emporium
             we
             prepare
             ▪
          
           
             The
             British
             Ocean
             shall
             such
             triumphs
             boast
             ,
          
           
             That
             those
             who
             now
             disdain
             our
             Trade
             to
             share
             ,
          
           
             Shall
             rob
             like
             Pyrats
             o●
             our
             wealthy
             Coast.
             
          
        
         
           
           
             304.
             
          
           
             Already
             we
             have
             conquer'd
             half
             the
             War
             ,
          
           
             And
             the
             less
             dang●rous
             part
             is
             left
             behind
             :
          
           
             Our
             trouble
             now
             is
             but
             to
             make
             them
             dare
             ,
          
           
             And
             not
             so
             great
             to
             vanquish
             as
             to
             find
             .
          
        
         
           
             305.
             
          
           
             Thus
             to
             the
             Eastern
             wealth
             through
             storms
             we
             go
             ;
          
           
             But
             now
             ,
             the
             Cape
             once
             doubled
             ,
             fear
             no
             more
             :
          
           
             A
             constant
             Trade-wind
             will
             securely
             blow
             ,
          
           
             And
             gently
             lay
             us
             on
             the
             Spicy
             shore
             .
          
        
         
           FINIS
           .
        
      
    
     
       
         Notes, typically marginal, from the original text
         
           Notes for div A36598-e2440
           
             a
             In
             Eastern
             Quarries
             ,
             &c.
             Precious
             Sto●es
             at
             fi●st
             are
             Dew
             ,
             condens'd
             and
             ●ardea'd
             by
             the
             warmth
             of
             the
             Su●
             ,
             or
             subt●rran●an
             Fires
             .
          
           
             b
             Each
             wexing
             ,
             &c
             according
             to
             their
             opinio●
             ,
             who
             think
             that
             g●eat
             hea●
             of
             waters
             under
             the
             L●ne
             is
             depressed
             into
             Tydes
             by
             the
             Moon
             ,
             towards
             the
             Pol●s
             .
          
           
             c
             Th'
             Iberian
             ,
             the
             Spaniard
             .
          
           
             d
             Wh●●
             Prote●s
             
               blows
               ,
               or
            
             Caeruleus
             Proteus
             immania
             pouti
             armenta
             ,
             &
             magnas
             poscit
             sub
             gurg●te
             Pho●as
             .
             Vi●g
             .
          
           
             *
             The
             Admiral
             of
             Holland
             .
          
           
             e
             So●thern
             Climates
             ,
             Guinny
             .
          
           
             The
             attempt
             at
             Berghen
             .
          
           
             f
             Such
             are
             ,
             &c
             ,
             from
             Petronius
             .
             Si
             ,
             bene
             calculum
             ponas
             ubique
             naufragiunt
             est
             .
          
           
             g
             The
             German
             saith
             .
             Tacitus
             
               saith
               of
               them
            
             .
             Nullos
             mortalium
             side
             aut
             armis
             ante
             Germanos
             ●sse
             .
          
           
             War
             declar'd
             by
             France
             .
          
           
             Prince
             Rupert
             
               and
               Duke
            
             Albemarl
             
               sent
               to
               sea
            
             .
          
           
             h
             Future
             people
             ,
             Examin●
             insant●um
             futurusque
             populus
             .
             Pl●
             Jun.
             in
             pan
             .
             ad
             Traj
             .
          
           
             Duke
             of
             Albemarl's
             Battel
             ,
             first
             day
             .
          
           
             i
             Th'
             Elean
             ,
             &c.
             
             Where
             the
             Olimpick
             Games
             were
             celebrated
             .
          
           
             k
             Lands
             unfix'd
             ,
             from
             Virgil
             :
             Credas
             innare
             revultas
             Cycladas
             ,
             &c.
             
          
           
             S●cond
             days
             Battel
             .
          
           
             l
             His
             face
             ,
             &c
             ,
             Spem
             vultu
             simula●
             premit
             alto
             c●rde
             dolor●m
             .
             Virg.
             
          
           
             m
             
               The
               simile
               is
            
             Virgil
             's
             ,
             Vestigia
             re●ro
             improperata
             refert
             ,
             &c.
             
          
           
             n
             Weary
             waves
             ,
             Statius
             Sylv.
             Nec
             trucibus
             fluviis
             idem
             sonus
             :
             occidit
             hor●or
             aeq●oris
             ,
             ac
             tenis
             maria
             acclinata
             quiescunt
             .
          
           
             o
             The
             third
             of
             June
             ,
             famous
             for
             two
             ●ormer
             Victories
             .
          
           
             Third
             day
             .
          
           
             Fourth
             days
             B●ttel
             .
          
           
             p
             
               So
               glides
               ,
               &c
               ●●om
            
             Virgil
             Quum
             medii
             nexus
             ,
             ●xtremoequ●
             〈…〉
             solvuntur
             ;
             tar●osque
             trahit
             sinus
             ulti●us
             orbes
             ,
             &c.
             
          
           
             q
             From
             Horace
             :
             Quos
             opinius
             fallere
             &
             effugere
             est
             triumpl●us
             .
          
           
             His
             Majesty
             repairs
             the
             Fleet.
             
          
           
             r
             Fervet
             opus
             :
             the
             same
             similitude
             in
             Virgil.
          
           
             Loyal
             London
             d●scrib'd
             .
          
           
             Dig●ession
             concerning
             Shipping
             and
             Navigation
             .
          
           
             s
             Extra
             anni
             solisque
             vicis
             .
             Virg.
          
           
             t
             By
             a
             more
             exact
             knowledge
             of
             Longitudes
             .
          
           
             Apostrophe
             to
             the
             Royal
             Society
             .
          
           
             u
             Levat
             ipse
             Tridenti
             ,
             &
             vastas
             aperit
             Syrtes
             ,
             &c.
             Virg.
             
          
           
             Second
             Battel
             .
          
           
             w
             P●s●unt
             quia
             p●sse
             videntur
             .
             〈◊〉
          
           
             x
             Patron
             Saint
             :
             
               St.
               James
            
             ,
             on
             whose
             day
             this
             victory
             was
             gain'd
             .
          
           
             y
             Philip's
             Maa●s
             :
             Philip
             the
             second
             ,
             of
             Spain
             ,
             against
             whom
             the
             Hol●●nders
             rebelling
             ,
             were
             aided
             by
             Queen
             Elizabeth
             .
          
           
             Burn●ng
             of
             the
             Fleet
             in
             the
             Vly
             by
             Sir
             
               Robert
               Holmes
            
             .
          
           
             Transitum
             to
             the
             Fire
             of
             London
             .
          
           
             z
             Quum
             mare
             quum
             tellus
             correptaque
             regia
             Coeli
             ,
             ardeat
             ,
             &c.
             Ovid.
          
           
             a
             Like
             crafty
             ,
             &c.
             
             Haec
             arte
             tractaba●
             cupidum
             virum
             ,
             ut
             〈◊〉
             animum
             i●opia
             accrud●ret
             .
          
           
             b
             Sigaea
             igni
             freta
             lata
             relucent
             .
             Virg.
          
           
             K●ng's
             Prayer
             .
          
           
             Cities
             request
             to
             the
             King
             not
             to
             leave
             them
             .
          
           
             c
             M●xico
             .
          
           
             d
             Augusta
             ,
             the
             old
             name
             of
             London
             .