AN ENCOMIUM On the REVEREND and VALIANT Mr. George Walker.  
10. Sept: 1689:  

THOU glorious Guide in Honour's roughest ways,  
Whose vast Deserts exceeds our greatest Praise;  
Whilst clamorous throngs of the admiring Crowd,  
Their Joy, and thy Deserts proclaim aloud;  
Whilst sucking Babes are taught to lisp thy Name,  
Permit I Echo the loud Voice of Fame;  
Whose Golden Wings shall bear thy Name on high,  
And mounting Plumes shall beat the distant Sky.  
The Constant, Valiant, Loyal Walker's Name,  
His country's glory, but the Rebel's shame:  
The glorious Trophies of his Loyal Sword,  
Immortal Annals ever shall record;  
Successive times shall long with wonder hear,  
Love and admire, and hold his memory dear:  
Propose his Pattern as the utmost bound  
Virtue can reach, or may in Man be found:  
The Roman Valour must by his decline,  
Which like the Sun does lesser Stars outshine.  
Virtue in him exalted does appear,  
Secure by being Good, free both from Gild and Fear;  
Who bravely for his dear Religion stood,  
The Kingdom's glory, and the Nations good:  
The Gown-mens' Mirror when he speaks the Word,  
The Soldiers Pattern when he takes the Sword.  
When Popish Legions close Besieged the Town,  
And proudly bragged, Their Lives and all's our own;  
The thoughts but on his Dangers chills my Blood,  
I shake to think how he undaunted stood;  
And Deaths grim Terrors at his awful sight,  
Grown fearful to his numerous Foes, took flight;  
Like as a Fire suppressed in hollow Cave,  
Disdains its Prison, and doth murmuring rave;  
At last breaks forth, mounts to its native seat,  
Devouring all with flames and rapid heat:  
So mighty Walker sallied on his Foes;  
Still crowned with Victory whensoe'er he goes;  
With few and weak, whole Legions put to flight,  
Honour by greatest Dangers shows most bright.  
His noble Mind exiled all sordid Fear,  
A Soul so great and brave could not despair.  
As when a troop of thrifty Swains cut down  
With Sythes Earth's ripened Riches from the ground,  
Whole sheaves of Corn lie strewed upon the Plain,  
So by his Arms were Irish Rebels slain;  
Yet than all these an Enemy more fell,  
Within the City Walls did Famine dwell:  

Famine that never shuns the worst of Meat,  
Famine that never did a Parley beat,  
Famine that never sounded a retreat;   
Famine, by which their Brave and Valiant died,  
This they encountered, and its power defied.  
He when the ghastly Emperor of Graves  
(Which bravest Men of all their force bereaves)  
Stared in his Face, loud threatening all to kill,  
No fear of Death could force him to do ill:  
He knew the Quarrel happy was, and good,  
For countries' Cause to spend his dearest Blood.  
Like Staremberg that bravely did support  
By his great Fortiude the Imperial Court;  
So Reverend Walker for three Nations good,  
'Gainst Number, Sickness, Death and Famine stood;  
No Dangers or Rewards could make him yield,  
Faithful i'th' Town, and Valiant in the Field:  
Fame, Queen of Immortality, shall give  
Him Balm when dead, and Honour whilst alive.   

May from his Lips, Just, Loyal Sermons flow,  
Whilst lawreled Mitres court his Reverend Brown.  
Danger hath Honour, great Designs their Fame,  
And Resolution's Honours fairest aim.  
Let all brave Souls so venture for the Prize,  
They make their Fortune that are Stout and Wise.    

LICENCED,  
September 6. 1689. J. Frasier.   

LONDON, Printed for J. Green, near Temple-Barr. 1689.