A Hue and Cry AFTER THE DUTCH FLEET OR, Joyful Congratulations for our late VICTORY.  

SHall Fires expire through Joy, and yet shall I  
Express no sense of this Great VICTORY?  
I swell, and needs must burst, if not declare  
My Joys as ample as our Conquests are.  
Shall Bells in Changes Ring our GENERALS Praise,  
Whilst some standstill, and do no Trophies raise  
Unto their lasting Name? Let all such be  
Hung up like Bells for their Malignity?  
Shall roaring Oannons every where proclaim  
Our English HEROES everlasting Fame,  
And I be Dumb? Can ROYALISTS forbear  
To speak, when they such joyful tidings hear?  
Let Vultures, Vipers, and Wolveses clothed like Sheep,  
Instead of joy, be silent now, and weep.  
Whose Zeals Detraction, and whose chiefest good,  
Is traitorously to Spill, not spend their Blood  
For King or Country; whose late mischievous words  
Import more danger than the hostile Swords  
Of our now Vanquished Foes; whose Reason  
Is flat Rebellion, and their Truth is Treason.   

ne'er hope that Dutchmen fed on Mire, and Mud  
Shall bathe your Plots in the sweet scented Blood  
Of loyalists. This was their fatal Lot,  
They turned up Tromp, but we the HONOURS got.  
These Gamesters played for Fuel, Food, and Fish,  
Instead thereof they'll have this in their Dish,  
That a small Sloop of Ours, two Guns, no more,  
Should fight their Admiral on their own Shore.  
For shame let's not this Observation make,  
That Our small Cock should make Their Lion Quake.  
In this all Quarrels reconciled we see,  
And no more talk of inconformity;  
But like true English men we'll make it known,  
We're for no King or Country, but our Own,   

Now give me leave to speak as to the Fight,  
And first of the two Squadrons, Red and White.  
Never were Ships so thronged with Noble Spirits,  
Striving t outvie each other by their Merits.  
About to Fight, they one and all did cry,  
We for our Country willing are to die.   

These joyful Shouts excited us to Fight,  
But made their Courage show itself in flight.  
Our Valour caused Horror to appear  
In their pale Faces, and distracting Fear  
Did so enslave their Hearts, that straight they run;  
A most approved way (by them to shun  
Approaching harm: we in the Rear pursue,  
Leaving a share o'th' Conquest to the BLUE.   

Brave SMITH hath verified on the Main,  
This proverb, that True Blue will never Slain.  
Environed round with Foes, with Fire, and Smoke,  
Made the Dutch know he had an heart of OAK.  
Death staring in his Face, he still did mind  
To husband all th' advantages of Wind.  
His Foes did wait Him, but at last did meet,  
They'd paid for waiting, were they not too Fleet;  
If ought th' had cause to boast of heretofore,  
W'have more then ev'ned that pretended Score   

This Conquest shows our GENERALS understand  
A Kingdom's Steerage, and how to Command.  
Th'have so out done themselves, their Actions past,  
Seems but as Gleams, and Shadows of this Last.  
For which eternal Bays their Brows adorn,  
And time shall never see their Race outworn.  
Beloved by PRINCES, and by all desired,  
By Holland feared, and by the World admired.   
Printed with Allowance. LONDON, Printed by L. Miller, for Richard Head, 1666.