An Heroic POEM UPON HIS MAJESTY'S Most GRACIOUS RELEASING the CHIMNEY-MONEY.  

ABove the Waves, so Neptune showed his Face,  
To chide the Winds and save the Trojan R●●e;  
As our Great MONARCH has our Fears released,  
And threatening Storms of Tyranny suppresed.  
Our drooping Nation, almost quite become,  
The Prey of Lawless Power, and Cruel Rome;  
Shattered by Popish Plots, and Jesuits Hate,  
Is now restored and made a Glorious State.  
The Seat of Empire, where must shortly come,  
The Rebel- Irish to receive their Doom;  
And now proud Rome by His Achievements scared,  
(Although another Caesar were her Guard)  
Can trembling wish behind more Alps to stand,  
While His fresh Laurels Her swift fall portend.   

The Sea's our own, and now all Nations greet,  
With loering Sails each Vessel of our Fleet;  
Our Monarch's Power extends as far as Winds do blow,  
Or swelling Sails around the Globe may go.   

Heaven that has placed this Island to give Law,  
To balance Europe, and her States to awe;  
In this conjuncture does on Britain's smile,  
The Greatest Leader, and the Greatest I'll.   

Whether this Portion of the World were rend,  
By the rude Ocean from the Continent  
Or thus Created, it was sure designed,  
To be the Sacred Refuge of Mankind.   

Here the Oppressed shall henceforth resort,  
Justice to crave, and Succour at our Court;  
And than our Sovereign, not for ours alone,  
But for the World's Great MONARCH shall be known.  
Fame swifter than his winged Navy flies,  
To every Land that near the Ocean lies;  
Sounding his Name, and telling dreadful News,  
To all that Tyranny, and Rapine use.  
While his blessed Subjects, under their own Laws,  
Where no unjust control can interpose;  
Enjoy in ample Liberty and Ease,  
With Freedom Plenty, and with Plenty Peace.  
Lords of the World's large waist, the Ocean, we  
Whole Forests send to Rule upon the Sea;  
And every Coast may trouble or relieve,  
But none can visit us. without His leave.   

Our little World, the Image of the great,  
Like that amidst the boundless Ocean Set;  
Of her own growth has all that Nature craves,  
And all that's scarce, as Tribute from the Waves.  
As Egypt does not on the Clouds rely,  
But to her Nile owes more than to the Sky;  
So what our Earth, and what our Heaven denies,  
Our ever constant Friend (the Sea) supplies.  
The taste of hot Arabia's Spice we know,  
Free from the scorching heat that makes it grow;  
Without the Worm in Persian Silk we shine,  
And without Planting, Drink of every Vine.  
Ours is the Harvest where the Indians mow,  
We Plough the deep, and Reap what others sow;  
Things of the Noblesed kind our own Soil breeds,  
Stout are our Men, and Warlike are our Steeds.  
Rome, tho' her Eagle through the World had flown,  
Can never make this Island all her own;  
Here flourished Edward, and the Black Prince too,  
Victorious Henry, and now GREAT SIR, YOU,  
For YOU we stayed, once more to fill our Story  
With great Achievements, and with Acts of Glory.  
When for more Worlds the Macedonian cried,  
He witted not T●etys in her lap did hid  
Another yet, a world reserved for You,  
To make more Great, than that he did subdue.   

When Fate or Error had our Age misled,  
And on this Nation such Confusion spread,  
The only Cure which could from Heaven come down  
Was so much power and Piety in One.  
One, whose Extraction from an Ancient Line,  
Gives Hope again that wellborn Men may shine:  
The meanest, in your Nature, mild and good,  
The Noble rest secured in your Blood.   

For when our Troubled Country called you forth,  
Your Noble Courage and your Matchless Worth  
Dazzling the Eyes of all that did pretend,  
To fierce Contention gave a prosperous End.  
No sooner You, GREAT SIR, the Throne ascend,  
But our Disorders cease, and all things mend.  
As if your Royal Touch were only sure  
The true King's Evil of the Realm to Cure.   

'Twas not Ambition spurred our Sovereign on  
To seize the Sceptre, and assume the Crown;  
But like the Vestal Heat, his Martial Fire  
Was such as true Devotion did inspire;  
His Zeal for GOD, and Pity to Mankind  
Awaked his Courage, and confirmed his Mind.  
Religion 'twas, that putting on his shield,  
Brought him Victorious through a bloodless Field;  
His Arms were such, as th' Ancient Heroes wore,  
Bequeathed him by the God he does adore.  
And all to save three Kingdoms from the Curse  
Of Lawless Rule, and Rome's Tyrannic Force.  
A Princelike Pious Ardour of Renown,  
To seek the Church's Triumph in his own:  
Which once accomplished under his Command,  
Th' August and Grateful Senate of the Land  
Gave up what they had left (who had done ill)  
To Him, that more deserved the Throne to fill.  
With equal Love the Generous King released  
The chiefest Impost, which the poor oppressed;  
Which, tho' so fair a Branch of public Store,  
He valued not, because it wronged the Poor.  
One Landlord to the House, to Chimneys two,  
Seemed more than was to equal Justice due;  
He that once lets his House, his Chimney lets,  
There the poor dresses what his Labour gets;  
Hard, double-Pay for that from, whence he eats.  
Or if through Poverty it be not paid,  
For Cruelty to tear away the single Bed,  
On which the poor Man rests his wearied Head,  
At once deprives him of his Rest and Bread.  
But such Injustice He would not Command,  
Who came by Justice to relieve the Land;  
Nor would he have an opulent Land supply  
Th' Expense of State by grinding Cruelty.   

Thus the vexed World to find repose, at last  
Into Augustus' Arms herself did cast.  
As England now with equal Toils oppressed,  
Her wearied Head did on Your Bosom rest.  
Then let the Muses with such Notes as these,  
Instruct us what belongs unto our Peace.  
Here in low strains your milder Deeds we sing,  
Hereafter we will Bays and Olive bring  
To Crown your Head, while you in Triumph ride  
On Vanquished Nations, and the Sea bestride;  
While all your Neighbouring Princes unto You,  
Like Ioseph's Sheaves, pay Reverence, and bow.    

LONDON, Printed for R. Taylor near Stationers-Hall, in the Year, MDCLXXXIX.