THE BIRTH OF THE MUSE. A POEM.  
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE CHARLES' MONTAGUE, CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER, etc.  
By Mr. CONGREVE.  
Dignum laude virum Musa vetat mori. Horat.  
LONDON, Printed for jacob Tonson at the Judge's Head near the Inner-Temple-Gate, in Fleetstreet. 1698.   

THE BIRTH OF THE MUSE.  

DEscend, Celestial Muse! thy Son inspire  
Of thee to sing; infuse the Holy Fire.  
Beloved of Gods and Men, thyself disclose;  
Say, from what Source thy Heavenly Power arose,  
Which from unnumb'red Years delivering down  
The Deeds of Heroes deathless in Renown,  
Extends their Life and Fame to Ages yet unknown.   

Time and the Muse set forth with equal Pace;  
At once the Rivals started to the Race:  
And both at once the destined Course shall end,  
Or both to all Eternity Contend.  
One to preserve what t' other cannot save,  
And rescue Virtue rising from the Grave.   

To thee, O Montague, these Strains are sung,  
For thee my Voice is tuned, and speaking Lyre is strung;  
For every Grace of every Muse is thine,  
In thee their various Fires united shine,  
Darling of Phoebus and the tuneful Nine!  
To thee alone I dare my Song Commend,  
Whose Nature can forgive, and Power defend,  
And show by turns the Patron and the Friend.   

Begin, my Muse, from jove derive thy Song,  
Thy Song of right, does first to jove belong:  
For thou thyself art of Celestial Seed,  
Nor dare a Sire inferior boast the Breed.  
When first the Frame of this vast Ball was made,  
And jove with Joy the finished Work surveyed;  
Then change of Things, the rise and fall of States,  
Tho' yet to come, were destined by the Fates.  
Then Time had first a Name; by firm Decree  
Appointed Lord of all Futurity.  
Within whose spacious Womb the Fates repose  
Causes of Things, and secret Seeds enclose,  
Which ripening there, shall one Day gain a Birth,  
And force a Passage through the teeming Earth.  
To him they gave, to rule the spacious Light,  
And bound the yet unparted Day and Night;  
To wing the Hours that whirl the rolling Sphere  
To shift the Seasons, and conduct the Year.  
The Term of Empires, and Extent of Power  
To him they trust, and fix each fated Hour.  
This mighty Rule, to Time the Fates ordain,  
But yet to hard Conditions bind his Reign.  
For every beauteous Birth he brings to light,  
(How good soever and grateful in his sight,)  
He must again to Native Earth restore,  
And all his Race with Iron Teeth devour.  
Nor Good, nor Great shall scape his hungry Maw,  
But bleeding Nature prove the rigid Law.   

Not yet, the loosened Earth aloft was flung,  
Or poised amid the Skies in balance hung.  
Nor yet, did Golden Fires the Sun adorn,  
Or borrowed Lustre silver Cynthia's Horn.  
Nor yet, had Time Commission to begin.  
Or Fate the many-twisted Web to spin;  
When all the Heavenly Host assembled came  
To view the World yet resting on its Frame;  
Eager they press, to see the Sire dismiss  
And roll the Globe along the vast Abyss.   

But deep revolving Thoughts the God retain,  
Which for a space suspend the promised Scene.  
Again, his Eyes inspect Time's pregnant Womb,  
Again, he reads the World's predestined Doom.  
Abroad the bulky Volume he displays,  
And present views the Deeds of future Days.   

A beauteous Prospect paints the foremost Page,  
Where Nature's Bloom presents the Golden Age.  
The Golden Leaf to Silver soon resigns,  
And fair the Sheet, but yet more faintly shines.  
Of base Brass, the next denotes the Times,  
An impious Page deformed with deadly Crimes.  
The Fourth yet wears a worse and browner Face,  
And adds to Gloomy Days an Iron Race.   

He turns the Book, and every Age reviews,  
Then all the Kingly Line his Eye pursues:  
The First of Men, and Lords of Earth designed,  
Who under him should rule the rest of Humankind.  
Of Future Heroes, there, the Lives he reads,  
In search of Glory spent, and Godlike Deeds;  
Who Empires found, and goodly Cities build,  
And Savage Men Compel to leave the Field.   

All this th' Eternal saw, and seen approved;  
When Lo! but thence a Narrow Space removed,  
And Hungry Time has all the Scene defaced,  
The Kings destroyed, and laid the Kingdoms waste:  
Together all in Common Ruins lie,  
And but anon and even the Ruins die.  
Th' Almighty, inly touched, Compassion found,  
To see Great Actions in Oblivion drowned;  
And forward search the Roll, to find if Fate  
Had no Reserve to spare the Good and Great.  
Bright in his View the Trojan Heroes shine,  
And Ilian Structures raised by Hands Divine;  
But Ilium soon in Native Dust is laid,  
And all her boasted Pile a Ruin made:  
Not Great Aeneas can her Fall withstand,  
But flies, to save his Gods, to foreign Land.  
The Roman Race, succeed the Pardan State,  
And first and second Caesar Godlike Great.  
Still on to after-days his Eyes descend;  
And rising Heroes still the Search attend.  
Proceeding thus he many Empires passed;  
But fair Britania fixed his Sight at last.   

Above the Waves she lifts her Silver Head,  
And looks a Venus born from Ocean's Bed.  
For rolling Years, her happy Fortune's smile,  
And Fates propitious bless the beauteous Isle;  
To World's remote, she wide extends her Reign,  
And wields the Trident of the stormy Main.  
Thus on the Base of Empire firm she stands,  
While bright Eliza rules the willing Lands.   

But soon a Lowering Sky comes on apace,  
And Fate reversed shows her ill-omened Face.  
The Void of Heaven a Gloomy Horror fills,  
And Cloudy Veils involve her shining Hills;  
Of Greatness passed no Footsteps she retains,  
Sunk in a Series of Inglorious Reigns.  
She feels the Change, and deep regrets the Shame  
Of Honours lost, and her diminished Name:  
Conscious, she seeks from Day to shroud her Head,  
And glad would shrink beneath her Oozy Bed.   

Thus far, the Sacred Leaves Britania's Woes  
In shady Draughts, and dusky Lines disclose.  
Th' ensuing Scene revolves a Martial Age,  
And ardent Colours gild the glowing Page.   

Behold! of radiant Light an Orb arise,  
Which kindling Day, restores the darkened Skies;  
And see! on Seas the beamy Ball descends,  
And now its Course to fair Britania bends:  
Along the foamy Main the Billows bear  
The floating Fire, and waste the shining Sphere.  
Hail, happy Omen! Hail, auspicious Sight!  
Thou glorious Guide to yet a greater Light.  
For see! a Prince, whom dazzling Arms array,  
Pursuing closely, ploughs the wat'ry Way,  
And tracks the Glory through the flaming Sea.   

Britania, rise; awake, O Fairest Isle,  
From Iron Sleep; again thy Fortune's smile.  
Once more look up, the Mighty Man behold,  
Whose Reign renews another Age of Gold.  
The Fates at length the Blissful Web have spun,  
And bid it round in Endless Circles run.  
Again, shall distant Lands Confess thy Sway,  
Again, the wat'ry World thy Rule Obey;  
Again, thy Martial Sons shall thirst for Fame,  
And win in foreign Fields a deathless Name,  
For WILLIAM's Genius every Soul inspires,  
And warms the frozen Youth with warlike Fires.  
Already, see, the Hostile Troops retreat,  
And seem forwarn'd of their impending Fate.  
Already routed Foes his Fury feel,  
And fly the Force of his unerring Steel.  
The haughty Gaul, who well till now, might boast,  
A Matchless Sword and unresisted Host,  
At his Foreseen approach the Field forsakes;  
His Cities tremble, and his Empire shakes.  
His towering Ensigns long had awed the Plain,  
And Fleets audaciously usurped the Main;  
A gathering Storm he seemed, which from afar  
Teemed with a Deluge of destructive War.  
Till WILLIAM's stronger Genius soared above,  
And down the Skies the daring Tempest drove.  
So from the radiant Sun, retires the Night,  
And Western Clouds shot through with adverse Light.  
So when th' assuming God, whom Storms Obey,  
To all the warring Winds at once gave way;  
The frantic Brethren ravaged all around,  
And Rocks, and Woods, and Shores their Rage resound;  
Incumbent o'er the Main, at length they sweep  
The liquid Plains, and raise the peaceful Deep:  
But when superior Neptune leaves his Bed,  
His Trident shakes, and shows his awful Head;  
The madding Winds are hushed, the Tempests cease,  
And every rolling Surge resides in Peace.   

And now the Sacred Leaf a Landscape wears,  
Where, Heaven serene, and Air unmoved appears.  
The Rose and Lily paint the verdant Plains,  
And Palm and Olive shade the Sylvan Scenes.  
The Peaceful Thames, beneath his Banks abides,  
And soft, and still, the Silver Surface glides.  
The Zephyrs fan the Fields, the whispering Breeze  
With fragrant Breath remurmurs through the Trees.  
The warbling Birds applauding newborn Light,  
In wanton Measures wing their airy Flight.  
Above the Floods the sinny Race repair,  
And bound aloft, and bask in upper Air;  
They gilled their scaly Backs in Phoebus' Beams,  
And scorn to skim the Level of the Streams.  
Whole Nature wears a Gay and Joyous Face,  
And blooms and ripens with the Fruits of Peace.   

No more the Labouring Hind regrets his Toil,  
But Cheerfully Manures the grateful Soil;  
Secure the Glebe a plenteous Crop will yield,  
And Golden Ceres grace the waving Field.  
Th' adventurous Man, who durst the Deep explore,  
Oppose the Winds, and tempt the shelfy Shoar,  
Beneath his Roof now tastes unbroken Rest,  
Enough with Native Wealth and Plenty blest.   

No more the forward Youth pursues Alarms,  
Nor leaves the Sacred Arts for stubborn Arms,  
No more the Mothers from their Hopes are torn,  
Nor weeping Maids the promised Lover Mourn.  
No more the Widow's Shrieks and Orphans Cries,  
Torment the patient Air and wound the Skies.  
But peaceful Joys the prosperous Times afford,  
And banished Virtue is again restored.  
For He whose Arms alone sustained the Toil,  
And propped the nodding Frame of Britain's Isle;  
By whose Illustrious Deeds, her Leaders fired,  
Have Honours lost regained, and new acquired,  
With Equal Sway will virtue's Laws maintain,  
And Good, as Great, in awful Peace shall reign;  
For his Example still the Rule shall give,  
And those it taught to Conquer, teach to Live.   

Proceeding on, the Father still unfolds  
Succeeding Leaves, and brighter still beholds;  
The latest seen the fairest seems to shine,  
Yet sudden does to one more fair resign.  
Th' Eternal paused—  
Nor would Britania's Fate beyond explore;  
Enough he saw besides the coming Store.  
Enough the Hero had already done,  
And round the wide Extent of Glory run:  
Nor further now the shining Path pursues,  
But like the Sun the same bright Race renews.   

And shall remorseless Fates on him have Power!  
Or Time unequally such Worth devour!  
Then, wherefore shall the Brave for Fame contest?  
Why is this Man distinguished from the Rest?  
Whose foaring Genius now sublime aspires,  
And deathless Fame the due Reward requires.  
Approving Heaven th' exalted Virtue views,  
Nor can the Claim which it approves refuse.   

The Great Creator, soon the Grant resolves,  
And in his mighty Mind the Means revolves.  
He thought; Nor doubted once, again to choose,  
But spoke the Word, and made th' immortal Muse.  
Ne'er did his Power produce so bright a Child,  
On whose Creation Infant Nature smiled.  
Perfect at first, a finished Form she wears,  
And Youth perpetual in her Face appears.  
Th' assembled Gods who long expecting stayed,  
With new Delight gaze on the lovely Maid  
And think the wished for World was well delayed.  
Nor did the Sire himself his Joy disguise,  
But steadfast viewed, and fixed, and fed his Eyes.  
Intent a Space, at length He Silence broke,  
And thus, the God the Heavenly Fair bespoke.   

To thee, Immortal Maid, from this blessed Hour,  
O'er Time and Fame, I give unbounded Power.  
Thou, from Oblivion shalt the Hero save;  
Shalt raise, revive, and Eternize the Brave.  
To thee, the Dardan Prince shall owe his Fame;  
To thee, the Caesars their immortal Name.  
Eliza sung by thee, with Fate shall strive,  
And long as Time, in Sacred Verse survive.  
And yet O Muse, remains the Noblest Theme;  
The first of Men, Mature for Endless Fame  
Thy future Songs shall grace, and all thy Lays,  
Thenceforth, alone shall wait on WILLIAM's Praise.  
On his Heroic Deeds, thy Verse shall rise;  
Thou shalt diffuse the Fires that he supplies.  
Through him thy Songs shall more sublime aspire;  
And he through them, shall deathless Fame acquire:  
Nor Time, nor Fate his Glory shall oppose,  
Or blast the Monuments the Muse bestows.   

This said; no more ●●●nin'd Th' Aetherial Host  
Again impatient Crowd the Crystal Coast.  
The Father, now, within his spacious Hands,  
Encompassed all the mingled Mass of Seas and Lands.  
And having heaved aloft the ponderous Sphere,  
He Launched the World to float in ambient Air.   
FINIS