A Pindaric ODE: Humbly Offered to the Ever-Blessed Memory Of our Late Gracious SOVEREIGN LADY Queen MARY. Written by I. D. Gent.  
Pallida mors aequo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas,  
Regumque turres.  Hor. lib. I. Carm. 
LONDON, Printed for john Whitlock, in Stationer's Court, near Amen Corner, 1694.   

A Pindaric ODE, UPON THE Death of the QUEEN.  

I.  
THe Mighty Work is done, which in his Heavenly Mind,  
Th' Immortal Power above had long before designed.  
See, the Great Pillar of the World lies Dead,  
Consumed by unavoided Fate!  
See, what old Prophets in their Verses said,  
Who of this fatal Day did wondrous Things relate!  
O Sacred Shade, why didst Thou silent go?  
Why stood the solid Earth so firm at such a Blow?  
Ye Heavens, why shook ye not? why did not Storms arise,  
And Darkness overflow the Skies?  
Or hairy Comets this strange Revolution show?  
As that Great 
* Ol. Comwel.  Monster of the World,  
Who every Kingdom with fierce Wars did rend,  
Who all things in disorder hurled,  
In Thunder, and in Hurricanes did to the Shades descend.  
But Heaven of Her far better things did know,  
And She who no disturbance made below,  
'twas just She should to Heaven in Peace and Silence go.   

II.  
Ah wretched Nation! thrice unhappy Land!  
Which dost on every side on ruin stand;  
Become a Wonder to thy Friends and Foes.  
How art Thou mourned by these! how scorned by those!  
Insulting Paris, with a wicked Joy,  
Laughs at thy Sorrow and thy Tears;  
And that 
† Lewis, XIV.  Old Serpent, who does all destroy,  
Hisses, and shakes his Tail, when the glad News he hears.  
Empress of Islands once! the Glory and the Pride  
Of all the Spacious Universe beside:  
Thy Valour show, thy Courage now declare,  
Where is thy Strength? Thy Beauty where?  
Thee Nations loved, thee Kingdoms did adore,  
And thy unbounded Power, did stretch from Shore to Shore;  
And thy Imperial 
* The Arms of England.  Lions through the World did Roar.  
Heaven's brooding Seed on all thy Fields did lie,  
And thy large Fleece was never dry.  
Be, Happy Isle, (said God) for ever be  
From Hostile Arms, and from Invasion free:  
Thee let no cruel Troops assault, no mighty Host,  
No foreign Prince invade thy Armed Coast.  
Then round thy Bosom the wide Sea He threw,  
And made the Waves a Shield, and Castle too.  
But, Darling of the Gods! The Care of Heaven alone!  
Oh! say, Where are thy Mighty gone?  
Where are they now who guarded thee from Violence & Wrong?  
Justly we're filled with Wonder and with Dread,  
Since all that e'er was lovely, now is fled,  
The Great, I mean the Good, and Virtuous MARY's dead.   

III.  
Tell, O ye Winds, Fate's rigid Law,  
Spread all around the mournful Voice;  
Let Belgia hear th' unhappy Noise,  
And bear it to Famed Orange, and Nassau.  
Say their Great Hero trembles now,  
A Royal Sorrow sits upon his Brow;  
And underneath the Weight His Valiant Soul does bow.  
He, whom nor barbarous Turks, nor France could e'er  
With their unnumbered Armies terrify,  
Death He hath seen in War, yet never feared Him there,  
Nor trembled when the Bloody Standard rose;  
Nor was afraid in Martial Camps to die:  
Whose single Valour can oppose  
A Universe of Stubborn and resisting Foes;  
The only Hero, th' universal He,  
That ne'er was Conquered yet, and ne'er will be:  
At last His Love above His Heart prevails,  
His Strength eclipsed, and all His Courage fails.  
As the 
* Alexander moaned his dear Friend Cli●us.  Pellaean did his Friend bemoan,  
And breathed forth many a Sigh and many a Groan:  
Soft Tears unbuckled His Heroic Soul,  
Nor could He tame His Grief, nor could His Heart control.   

IV.  
Ye 
† Ships made of Pine,  Piny Fishes, wheresoever you go,  
Let remote Kingdoms our Great Sufferings show:  
wherever your flying Canvas does its Wings display,  
wherever through the large Regions of the Main  
You cut your liquid Way,  
To Nations, as you pass, complain;  
Tell every Coast, and every Shore,  
Say the Great 
* Alluding to that noted Story of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, The Great God Pan is dead.  Pana's dead, say England is no more.  
The Winds shall bear it to some distant Clime,  
Whether famed China or japan it be,  
There to Her Name shall live, and conquer aged Time;  
And role with every Wave along the Sea.  
Beyond where the known 
† The Pillars of Hercules. Né plùs ultrà.  Columns stood of Old,  
Beyond what Mariners shall e'er descry;  
Beyond those World's unknown, wherever they lie;  
Her Glory, and Her Virtue shall be told.  
And if by me Thy Name is e'er forgot;  
If e'er Great Ghost, it slips out of my mindful Thought;  
May Art forsake me! and my Muse become,  
For ever silent, and forever dumb!  
O may it never more my Mind inflame,  
If I shall once forget Thy Memory and Name!   

V.  
But say, What shall I worthy Thee rehearse?  
Too high my Subject, and too mean my Verse.  
Say in what Lays, in what immortal Strain,  
In what bright Numbers wilt thou live again?  
For tho' thy Body mingled in the Dust does lie,  
Thy Soul, which never is to die;  
Thy mighty Soul, stamped of heavens noblest Coin,  
More Pure than Gold, more Precious and Divine,  
Does in thy Everlasting Virtues shine:  
Thy Everlasting Virtues did I say?  
Yes, sure, they will remain;  
Yes, sure they will for ever last, and reign,  
Beyond the Last and Everlasting Day.  
Nor art Thou gone, whilst there is left behind  
The best and truest Image of Thy Mind.  
Virtue does Thy reasemblance show,  
And still Thou breathest in th' Example which Thou gav'st below.  
As when the God of Light descends to rest  
In the deep Ocean of the sultry West,  
Some steps of Phoebus we may still behold,  
He fringes all the Clouds with Silver and with Gold.   

VI  
Say, mighty Shade, to whom hast thou assigned  
Thy noble Spirit? to whom's Thy Mantle left behind?  
Speak; Does that happy Mortal breathe below  
Who can compare with Thee? Who can Thy Praises show?  
Smile but upon me, and Thy Smiles will raise  
Me to so vast and lofty Pitch, that I  
Shall soon forget myself, and learn to fly  
With other Poets, whose immortal Lays  
Do pierce the gilded Sky;  
Where meaner Birds did never stretch their Wings, and where  
Only Jove's Royal Eagles sail through the unbounded Air.  

* Only Eagles can look against the Sun steadfastly.  These with a steady Eye behold the Sun,  
And see the shining God in his Meridian run.  
Strictly they view the Glories of his Face,  
How bright his Beauties, and how swift his Race:  
Whilst others standing on the Ground below,  
Look up, and faint, and weak, and weary grow;  
No longer able on his Light to gaze;  
No longer able to endure the Virtue of his Rays.   

VII.  
How then shall I, a meaner Bird, begin?  
Which of thy numerous Virtues shall I sing?  
Or thy Religion and Piety,  
Thy Patience, and Thy Clemency,  
Thy Mildness, and Humility,  
And wide extended Charity,  
Which through the British World did run.  
Which with the Sun it's Morning Race begun,  
And ended with the labouring Sun.  
Widely and far Thy Princely Bounty reached,  
And, like the 
† From Pharos, an Island in Egypt, lying at the Mouth of Nile.  Pharian Nile, o'er all our Nation stretched;  
But far more happy did it glide,  
With a more fruitful and more 
* Nile flows but once a Year.  constant Tide,  
And watered all the World beside.  
Forgive me, Son of God and pardon if I say  
Like Thee She spent her Night, like Thee Her Day;  
Like Thee She could Create anew;  
So far Her winged Bounty flew:  
Thousands, like Thee, She often fed,  
And oft She healed the Sick, and oft revived the Dead.   

VIII.  
Nor did She spread Her Charity alone;  
To Heaven, and all the World Her Piety was known:  
Religion did Her Actions sway;  
Religion's Precept She did still obey,  
And every Hour did Praise, and every Hour did Pray.  
She, like th' old Hebrew 
* M●ses.  Prophet, did with Heaven discourse,  
Her Prayers obtained such mighty force.  
She talked with the Creator Face to Face;  
And thence Her Beauty shone, and thence Her Heavenly Grace.  
But all our Optics of Philosophy,  
All our faint Reason is to weak to see  
Whether She was a part of the Blessed Trinity:  
Whether She was the Holy Ghost, or no,  
And came in Human Flesh to visit us below;  
For since She lived by Prayer, we may suppose it so.   

IX.  
She, like Elias, when the Land was parched and dry,  
Unlocked the watery Chambers of the Sky.  
Her Prayers such Blessings did obtain,  
She from above could call the Dew and fruitful Rain.  
Nor need we wonder at her living Power,  
Since being dead She caused a greater Shower.  
Her Prayers were equal to Her Friends and Foes,  
She prayed for these, and prayed for those.  
And when the Sceptre filled Her Royal Hand,  
Of Idols how She purged the Christian Land!  
Destroyed the Golden Calves which did in 
‖ The Church; for Beth-el by interpretation signifies, The House of God.  Bethel stand.  
Strong, tho' a Woman, like some Rock She stood,  
And frighted all the Hellish Brood:  

† By Praetors and the rest are meant Roman Catholics.  Praetors, and wild Birds of prey,  
Owls, and Bats, which hate the Day,  
From Her Divinity did haste away.  
Thou North, (and then in God's great Dialect She spoke.  
God's Dialect became Her well)  
Those cruel Foes to Us, O North, in pieces break;  
And, O ye Winds, that stubborn Offspring quell:  
Drive those Swine headlong in the 
* The Tyrrhene is put for any Sea.  Tyrrhene Main, said She,  
For since they harmful and pernicious be,  
And cannot live by Land, 'tis fit they should by Sea.   

X.  
Tho Heaven Her numerous Virtues knew,  
To Heaven Her numerous Virtues flew:  
Tho' She had all the Glory that Mortality could have,  
(Glory! that Cloud, which, like a Shadow, runs,  
And, like a Daphne, our Embraces shuns)  
Tho' none was e'er more Good, more Virtuous, and more Brave,  
Yet was Her Soul as Low and Humble as the Grave:  
For every Night She spent, and every Day,  
In contemplation on Her native Clay.  
Upon the Dust Her mindful Thought She kept,  
And often at Her fading Glories wept:  
Majestic Sorrow in Her Breast did rise,  
And divine Tears streamed from Her noble Eyes:  
While Angels bore Her to the Land of Rest,  
Such humble Thoughts Her gracious Mind possessed,  
She thought Herself too mean to dwell among the Blessed.   

XI.  
Henceforth ye Mountains which adorn fair Albion's Sea,  
For ever Black and Mournful be:  
O never more be White,  
Nor kind to the returning Saylor's fight!  
Whether from Guinea he his Riches show:  
Or where wide Indus Silver Water's flow;  
Or where Arabia's Spicy Forests grow.  
And Thou, O France whilst Europe's Princes Mourn,  
Since thou dost laugh, and all their Sorrow scorn;  
Be Cursed! May Heaven with Bloody Interest repay  
Thy Cruelty, and most Inhuman Joy▪  
And may thy Rhine and rapid 
* A River in Paris.  Sein,  
Role to the Ocean Bloody with thy Slain,  
And make a truly Red, a truly Purple Main!   

XII.  
And thou, O Kensington! Great Kensington!  
(But Ah! why do I call thee so,  
Since now the Beauteous and the Mighty's gone?)  
Cursed Kensington! the cause of all our Woe.  
Henceforth become a wild, uncultivated Place,  
And like some barren Desert be;  
Let never Dew, nor Showers descend on thee;  
Nor let a Kingly Court thy Countries ever grace:  

† The Sun.  Fair Eye of Heaven, ne'er on their Mountains shine,  
Never thy usual Ray of Favour give,  
As when the Beauty of the Place did live;  
Whose Influence was more Powerful than thine:  
Their Fields let never Ploughmen dress,  
Their Trees no fruitful Branches bear;  
Be only Cypresses and Willows there,  
And all beside a stony, Libyan Wilderness!   

XIII.  
But, now She sees how vainly we lament,  
Whilst She adorns the Starry Firmament.  
Whilst Hallelujahs waft Her to the Heavenly Shore,  
Where Sancrost and Great Tillotson have sailed before;  
And as She passes through the Milky-Way,  
Which leads to the White-Hall of God,  
Where Stars innumerable are spread abroad,  
She looks with Wonder and Amazement round the Realms of Day;  
And as She Piously looks every where,  
The Blessed Virgin, first Salutes her there.  
Two Maries now in Heaven are seen,  
The Blessed VIRGIN, and the Blessed QVEEN.  
Immortal Joy among the Just does grow,  
The Blessed QVEEN does such a Ray bestow.  
Heaven with Triumphant Echoes does abound,  
And greater Gladness does through the Bright Fabric sound,  
Than when a Hundred Sinners that repent are found.   

XIV.  
Fly, fly, pure Saint, to Thine own Kingdoms fly,  
And fix Thy Station in Thy Native Sky.  
Go, Royal Spirit, lead on the Glorious Way,  
Whilst Clouds and Stars beneath Thy Feet do lie;  
Whilst Saints of Honour on their Music play,  
And all the Peers of Heaven, for Thy Arrival stay.  
Lo! up to th' highest Firmament She flies,  
And there augments the Glory of the Skies:  
There does the Pure, and Innocent Soul remain;  
There does She ever Live, and ever Reign.  
There sits She Clothed in pure refined Rays,  
And hears Resounding Heaven sing Her Eternal Praise.  
So after the Redemption of Mankind,  
After the Storms which the Great Ransom bore,  
To Heaven He did return, from whence He came before,  
And left His grieving Twelve behind:  
As through the City of the Stars He road,  
Angels and Saints met the Triumphant God,  
And full of Adoration, and of Love,  
Around him the bright Company did move,  
And blest him as He passed to fill His empty Throne above.   

XV.  
Look down, Triumphant Goddess, and some Pity show  
On us, Thy Subjects truly Militant below:  
Favour our Pious Cause, and let Thy Beauteous Star  
Defend and Guide us, in our Noble WAR.  
Let Thy Star fight for us, I say,  
For Stars of Old have fought in their Battalia;  
And did their Bloody Banners against 
† Jud. 5. 20. The Stars in their courses fought against Sisera.  Israel's Foe display.  
See, how Thy Hero toils on this laborious Stage,  
And struggles with an Impious Age.  
See what vast weight Thy WILLIAM does sustain,  
Whilst Monstrous Tigers, and fierce Beasts of prey,  
And stubborn Men more fierce than they,  
Cross His strong Rage in vain.  
Now, valiant Prince, lament no more,  
But to Thy streaming Sorrow place some Bound or Shore,  
And the 
* Hercules, so called from Tyrinthea, a City near Argos, where he was nursed.  Tyrinthean Champion's steps pursue,  
Who Dragons, Beasts, and Birds, a mighty number slew:  
At last by the Decrees of his great Father jove,  
He was translated to the Gods above;  
And as through the bright Pavement he does walk,  
And with his Heavenly Brethren talk,  
He does the Starry Monsters scare,  
(In Heaven they're fearful, as on Earth they were)  
And frightens all the Birds, the Beasts, and Serpents there.   
FINIS.