Albion's blessing a poem panegyrical on His Sacred Majesty, King William the III, and on his happy return, and the publishing the late glorious peace / written by Mr. D'Urfey. D'Urfey, Thomas, 1653-1723. 1698 Approx. 17 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 8 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2004-11 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A36955 Wing D2699 ESTC R36127 15608822 ocm 15608822 104098 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A36955) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 104098) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 1590:33) Albion's blessing a poem panegyrical on His Sacred Majesty, King William the III, and on his happy return, and the publishing the late glorious peace / written by Mr. D'Urfey. D'Urfey, Thomas, 1653-1723. [4], 11 p. Printed by W. Onley for Robert Battersby ... and Thomas Cater ..., London : MDCXCVIII [1698] In verse. Running title: Poem panegyrical. Reproduction of original in the Forster Collection, Victoria and Albert Museum. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. Gap elements of known extent have been transformed into placeholder characters or elements to simplify the filling in of gaps by user contributors. 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Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements). Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site . eng William -- III, -- King of England, 1650-1702 -- Poetry. Great Britain -- History -- William and Mary, 1689-1702 -- Poetry. 2003-08 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2003-09 Aptara Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2004-09 Olivia Bottum Sampled and proofread 2004-09 Olivia Bottum Text and markup reviewed and edited 2004-10 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion ALBION's Blessing . A POEM PANEGYRICAL On His Sacred MAJESTY , King WILLIAM the III. AND On His Happy Return , AND THE PUBLISHING THE Late Glorious PEACE . Written by Mr. D'VRFEY . Hic dies vere mihi festus atras Extimet Curas , ego nec tumultum , Nec mori per vim metuam tenente Caesare Terras . — Hor. lib. 3. London : Printed by W. Onley , for Robert Battersby , at Staple-Inn , near the Bars in Holbourn ; and Thomas Cater , at Bernard's Inn , in Holbourn . MDCXCVIII . TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE Arnold Ioost ( i. e. Iustus ) van Keppell , Earl of ALBEMARLE , Viscount BURY , Barron ASHFORD , of ASHFORD , Master of the Robes to His Sacred Majesty , And one of the MAJOR-GENERALS of the KING's ARMIES . This Poem Panegyrical is with all Duty and Humility most humbly Dedicated , By His most Humble and Obedient Servant , T. D'URFEY . ADVERTISEMENTS . IN Pacem Angliae Restauratam . Per Iohannem Phillips , de Interiore Templo . A Poem occasioned by the General Peace . By I. W. Gent. Both Printed for Rob. Battersby , at Staple-Inn , near the Bars , in Holbourn . 1698. A NEW POEM , ON THE PUBLISHING THE Late Glorious PEACE , AND On the Happy Return Of His Sacred MAJESTY , King WILLIAM the III. 'T IS done , and now Great Britain's Genius wakes , And from her Brain her late long Slumber shakes ; The Name of PEACE has her numb'd Spirits rais'd : Peace , by the Harrass'd Nations courted so and prais'd , Is now , with more than wondrous Art and Care , Extracted by the Chimistry of WAR : Thus did Great WILLIAM all our Ills redress ; Caesar Apollo , Caesar Hercules , Whose Glory as each Year still mounts it higher , In us to greater Duty should inspire ; The Murmuring Crowd should hate Sedition now , And , hush'd , to his Prevailing Merit bow ; Whilst generous Shame their Loyalty constrains , Spight of the factious Madness of their Brains : Royal Physician sent by Heaven to Cure , With Soveraign Virtue , England's Callenture , And force Rebellion's Feaverish Ill to cease , The Nation 's Epidemical Disease : Who could observe the Glory which our Isle Gain'd by his still-repeated Pain and Toyl , That saw him yearly hasten to the War , And every Hour the common Danger share , Without Divine Reflections , such as these ? This did the Godlike Monarch for our PEACE , Thus like a Saviour give his precious Blood , A willing Offerng to procure our Good : Yet to lov'd Britain , bearing due regard , The Sword in Martial Hand aloft was rear'd , And War or Peace for both alike prepar'd . Peace , as it with the Kingdom 's Glory stands ; War if affronted with unjust Demands ; Not Ours alone , but Europe's Cause he Try'd , And since , convenient , generously Comply'd : Lawrels abroad , and Thirst to overcome , For Quiet chang'd , and Olive-wreaths at Home , Form his Content , he Smiles , and deigns to please To stoop to the Variety of Peace . Long he preserv'd us Safe , with Pains and Cares , And nobly Earn'd the Royal Crowns he wears ; So truly England's Empire does Inherit , Right is the youngest Off-spring of his Merit : And who can grudg the Vines for him should grow , That sav'd the fruitful Vineyard from the Foe ? As when bright Phoebus the Horizon leaves , Prostrate on Earth , the trembling Persian grieves ; Possess'd with Fear his God should ne're return , To Chear , with joyful Beams , the Weeping Morn ; So shook our Loyal Hearts when Caesar went , So were we clouded all with Discontent : Then , then methought , each Planet dimly shon , But now , with Joy , its brightest Ray puts on ; With willing Haste into its Sphere does come , To Light the Great , the happy Monarch home ; And dress'd in Blazes of new dazling Light , Adorns the Splendor of that welcome Night . As those above , the Sons of Art below Their choicest Skill , and dutious Labour show ; The martial Cannons loud and thundring Noise , First shakes the Earth , and then assaults the Skies ; The whizzing Rockets bursting in the Air , Dim Cinthia's Train more glittering and more fair ; Great Mulciber his Revels does Proclaim , Exalted high on Piramids of Fame ; To Honour Caesar's Triumph all Conspire , And dart his Fame thro' Heaven and Earth in artificial Fire . Each Heart with joyful Ardour also burns , Since , Crown'd with Palm , the Godlike Prince returns ; Safe he Returns with Glory to his own , And all our Doubts , and all our Fears are gone : Now Sings the lab'ring Peasant at the Plough , Now pleas'd his fertile Glebe does Till and Sow , Fearless of Harm from an Invading-Foe . Caesar , like Mighty Iove , Exerts his Name , Equally Great abroad , as here his Fame ; His Army terrible , his Navy great , And blushing Victory still seems to wait , Where-e're he goes , as preordain'd by Fate . Declare , thou * Royal Traveller , that from A Region so remote dost leave thy Home ; Victorious Arms , and virdant Lawrels there , To see the noble Plant grow with more Splendor here : If ought , could thee from th' conq'ring Greatness bring , But the Renown of so Ador'd a King ; Thou saw'st , and with just Admiration too , Our martial Castles vye the Thunder-blow , And on the Sea , a glorious City flow ; Strong Forts Impregnable , not made to Yield , As when of old the Hands of Gods did Build , Float on the rowling Billows , and make Sport With each opposing Surge ; a Monarch's Court Is every Vessel , and in every Room A Sultan well might think himself at Home ; Whilst the proud Sails swell with the Winds that blow , And Woods of English Oak upon the Ocean grow ; Empress Britannia , foremost Booms along , A lofty Theam fit for the Lawreat's Song , Who th' Motto gave , * and best can treat of Kings , And Write in mighty Numbers mighty Things ; The Phaenix , London , and the Vanguard bold , The Sandwich fam'd for Bravery of old ; Almighty Neptune , and Great Ossory , The beautious Dutchess , Mistress of the Sea , The Dreadnought , and the Happy Restauration , The Resolution bound to Right the Nation ; And next as good as e're did Sails Unfurl , A Crown 's Restorer , Loyal Albemarle : These saw the Royal Stranger , with Delight , Saw their vast Power , and wonder'd at the Sight ; Then as our Naval Glory he survey'd , Thought his long Toyl and Travel well repaid ; And as fam'd Sheba , from the Southern Clime , Journeying to prove what had been fam'd Sublime , Return'd inspir'd with Wisdom she had won , From that blest Monarch , and t' Instruct began Dull Ignorants , that parch'd beneath the Sun ; So through the North , as far as fleecy Snow Hides the vast Hills , and rufling Tempests blow , Where thy chill Train , o're Lakes and frozen Isles , Hunt Pards and Bears , then Cloath 'em with their Spoils : Imperial Czar , be thou a second Fame , To blaze our Albion's Power , and Mighty William's Name , The Subject-Heroes of his Martial Train , Led on by him to Deathless Honour gain : Valour grows firm when Caesar does appear , Cowards themselves grow Stout in spight of Fear ; When e're he Shines still fresh each Lawrel grows , But where he 's Absent , oft our Fame we lose ; His Soul-infusing Genius Guards our Coast , But on the Main , for want of him , 't is Lost. Oh! Albion , Guardian of the Universe , Whose Fame , the Songs of Angels might disperse , And Bards divine , where Wit is most extream , Gain Groves of Lawrel from the Mighty Theam . Thou lovely Park , where Herds of Kings may dwell , Pal'd in with Sea , and be Invincible , Which the Eternal seem'd his own to Fence , Untir'd with the Creating Excellence , Before the courser Mold had its Decree , To form the common Herb , or Flower , or Tree : How wilt thou Fall ; into what low Disgrace ? How wilt thou Sink degeneratly Base , If Cowardise Infect thy Marine Race ? When equal Fleets on Neptune's Green appear , And Britain's recreant Sons shrink back for Fear ; Who would not think the End of all things near , When Mammon's shining Daughter too was by , For whom they destin'd are to Live and Die ? Who seem'd to say , See here your glittering Gains , Come on , Attaque , and Take me for your Pains ; Propitious Gales have brought me to your View , Fate makes this Present as your Monarch's Due ; I am a Treasure is reserv'd for you ; With such a Beauty uninjoy'd to part , Shame to our Nation , must be want of Heart . Oh! from thy Tomb , Great Ossory arise , And with thy awful Shadow blast their Eyes ; Haunt him in Dreams , and may his Face appear So Pale , the rest may Blush to see his Fear ; And Charm'd with conscious Shame , in future Fight Do Albion and its Injur'd Off-spring Right ; But let his brave Opposer find Regard , His Conduct Praise , with Fame his Worth Reward ; Smile on him as a generous Enemy , And let the others Shame his Glory be , Who thro' the Main and watching Fleets made way , And brought his Master safe the shining Prey . Nobly , Great Lewis ! bravely hast thou Reign'd , And against Europe , a long War maintain'd ; So safe in Councels , in thy Chiefs so blest , Injustice seem'd like Right by thy Success ; No Cause could thy ambitious Will protract , Whatever thou would'st Order they would Act ; Mighty thy Soul , tho' driv'n to last Distress , When Ruine had succeeded want of Peace , Yet Grief seem'd Joy , and Despair look'd like Ease ; A Look from thee thy Subjects Hearts could Fire , Who well perform'd their Charge , and thy Desire , Whilst black Destruction glaring in our View , Seem'd to make Nostredam's Predictions true , Till the blest Genius , that takes Care of Kings , Shading both Empires underneath its Wings , Inspir'd Great Nassaw with a generous Will , To stop fermenting Rage and future Ill ; He Stemm'd the Torrent , Fighting , Peace obtain'd , And made a Potent Foe , a Glorious Friend . In all Degrees of frail Humanity , And vicious Nature , must great Errors be ; But Sense in the distress of Thought is lost , To know that stubborn Albion breeds the most : The Quality of every strange Offence , Justly so much enrages Providence , That Sacred Mercy , after Crimes so base , Seems Imposition upon heavenly Grace ; T' observe what Jarrs , the Bane of all Content , Amongst themselves , her impious Sons Foment , Who now , tho' beyond Expectation Blest , Can yet , through strong Perverseness , take no Rest ; Want Power to know and utter what they Ail , And Plague themselves to invent Cause to Rail : Discord that springs from anxious Doubts and Fear , Is the unwelcome Harmony we hear ; And harsh provoking Jarrs 'twixt Friend and Friend , Brings each successive Day to its sad End : Curst Bigott'ry the Play did first begin , Till Revolution chang'd the Ill-wrought Scene , To bring us all a happy Freedom in ; Now Pride , the Humour of each Grumbler here , Proves like the Nature of the Clime and Air ; For as th' Inconstant Weather instantly Can change from Hot to Cold , from Moist to Dry ; So they from Rebels can turn Loyal Men , Set up a King , and boldly prove his Right , Zealously for him Vote , and for him Fight , And at the least Disgust can Rebels turn agen . Reflect in time , ye Sons of Discontent , Suppress your Spleen , and , e're too late , Repent ; Tho' Royal Mercy now do's Mild appear , Stern Justice , if you tempt , will be severe : Be Blind no more , thro' Fame's Perspective see Albion's unparalell'd Felicity , Fix'd in her present Monarch's Bravery ; In whose Auspicious and Illustrious Reign , Our long-lost Genius do's return again : The Hero's of past Ages present seem , Edward , and Mighty Henry live in him ; Henry and William , fated are the same , There 's a Prophetick Power even in the Name , Which do's to all Misteriously shew , The Latter like the First should Triumph too , Whose Glory 's greater , by the Peace he brings , Than Fame could give our most Victorious Kings . Oh! that the Darling of the Sacred Nine , To blaze his Name , could make my Verse Divine ; Ador'd Nassaw ! But oh ! to Praise is vain , 'T would Tire best Pens , and Crack the soundest Brain ; Th' extream of Art , adorn'd with nicest Wit , His mighty Character has never Writ , Do all they can they must leave something yet ; Call him Deliv'rer , let * Eusebia kneel , And shew the Wounds she did so lately feel ; The bleeding Breast his Sovereign Balm did heal ; And then in Prayer her grateful Homage shew , Alas ! 't is still a Sacrifice too low ; Or stile him Pious , Generous , Valiant , Wise , Who beyond Virgil or great Pindar flies , Will reach his Fame no more than Mole-hills do the Skies . Strict Morral Vertue do's his Breast controul , And there Raigns in him a true Kingly Soul , Not sway'd by Avarice , or Luxury , Tyrannic Lust , nor wretched Bigott'ry , But firm to Honour , true to his great Trust , And to the meanest of his Subjects Just ; So ready in the dangerous Hunt of War , As if he took more Pleasure in 't than Care ; His Royal Heart , mix'd with the common File , Nor wears the Wreath unless he shares the Toil ; But to retrieve the Glory of our Nation , Still pushes forward on each brave Occasion , And his successful Valour proves , without Predestination . Your joyful Thanks then , Loyal Britains , pay ; With Shouts and Welcomes , meet him on the way ; And now the Hero comes with Blessings crown'd , The Soul of Peace , as well as War , renown'd ; As in Creation , when the Eternal's Hand , Finish'd the Elements , the Sea and Land : The Six Days mighty Labour being o'repass'd , Sabboth was order'd as a Day of Rest ; So wearied with good Works , maturely Great , May he in happy Albion fix his Seat ; And if such Vertue can decline to Fate , Grant , gracious Heaven , it way be very late . FIFIS . Notes, typically marginal, from the original text Notes for div A36955-e430 * The Czar of Muscovy . * Mr. Dryden , who seeing a Scetch of her , gave this Motto , Post fulmina primum . * The Church .