CARMEN SAECULARE, FOR The Year, 1700.   

Carmen Saeculare, FOR The YEAR 1700. TO THE KING.  
Aspice venturo laetentur ut Omnia Saec'lo:  
O mihi tam longae maneat pars ultima vitae,  
Spiritus &, quantum sat erit tua dicere facta!  Virg. Eclog. 4. 
LONDON, Printed for Jacob Tonson, at Grays-Inn-Gate in Grays-Inn-Lane, 1700.   

Carmen Saeculare, For the Year 1700. TO THE KING.  

THY elder Look, Great Janus, cast  
Into the long Records of Ages past;  
Call out the Years in fairest Action dressed,  
With noted White Superior to the rest;  
Aeras derived, and Chronicles begun  
From Empires founded, and from Battles won:  
Show all the Spoils by Valiant Kings achieved,  
And Groaning Nations by their Arms relieved,  
The Wounds of Patriots in their Country's Cause,  
And happy Power sustained by wholesome Laws,  
In comely Order march each Merit forth,  
Mark every Act with its intrinsic Worth:  
Then hast the Mighty Parallels to bring  
To Modern Wonders and to Britain's KING.  
With Equal Justice and Historic Care  
Their Laws, their Toils, their Arms with His compare;  
Confess the various Attributes of Fame  
Collected and Complete in WILLIAM's Name;  
To all the listening World relate,  
As thou dost his Story read,  
That nothing went before so Great,  
And nothing Greater can succeed.   

Latium was thy Darling Care,  
Prudent in Peace, and Terrible in War:  
The Boldest Virtues that have Governed Earth  
From Latium's fruitful Womb derive their Birth.  
Turn thither the fair-written Page,  
From dawning Childhood to established Age  
The Glories of the Empire trace,  
Confront the Heroes of thy Roman Race,  
And let fair Proof my bold Assertion grace.   

If Mars' Son reduced the trembling Swains,  
And spread his Empire o'er the distant Plains,  
The Sabins violated Charms  
Obscured the Glory of his rising Arms.  
Strict Religion Numa knew,  
On every Altar laid the Incense due,  
Unskilled to dart the pointed Spear,  
Or lead the forward Youth to Noble War.  
Sealing his Justice with his children's Blood  
Stern Brutus was with too much Horror good.  
Fabius was Wise, but with excess of Care;  
He saved his Country, but prolonged the War.  
Fabricius, Paulus, Curius, greatly Fought,  
And by their strict Examples taught  
How dangerous Lusts must be controlled,  
And how much brighter Virtue was than Gold;  
But scarce their swelling Thirst of Fame could hid,  
And boasted Poverty with too much Pride.  
Excess in Youth made Scipio less Revered,  
And Cato dying, seemed to own he Feared.  
Julius with Honour tamed Rome's Foreign Foes;  
Too many Patriots fell e'er the Dictator risen.  
And tho' with Clemency Augustus Reigned,  
The Monarch was Adored, the City chained.   

Let their Deserts with mighty Praise be dressed,  
But be their Failings too confessed,  
Their Virtuc rolling like their Tyber's Flood;  
It's rapid Force designed their Country's Good:  
But oft the Torrents too impetuous Speed  
From the low Earth tore some polluting Weed;  
And with the Blood of Jove there always ran  
Some small allaying Tincture of the Man.   

Few Virtues after these so far prevail,  
But that their Vices more than turn the Scale:  
Valour grown wild by Pride, and Power by Rage,  
Did the true Charms of Majesty impair;  
Rome by degrees advancing more in Age,  
Showed sad Remains of what had once been fair;  
Till Heaven a better Race of Men supplies,  
And Glory shoots new Beams from Western Skies.   

Turn then to Pharamont and Charlemagne,  
And the long Heroes of the Gallic Strain;  
Experienced Chiefs, for hardy Prowess known,  
And in fierce Battles Bloody Laurels won.  
From the First WILLIAM, our Great Norman King,  
The Bold Plantagenets and tudor's bring;  
Illustrious Heroes, who by turns have rose  
In Foreign Fields to check Britania's Foes,  
With happy Laws her Empire to sustain,  
and with full Power assert her ambient Main;  
But sometimes too Industrious to be Great,  
Nor patiented to expect the Turns of Fate,  
They opened Camps deformed by Civil Fight,  
And made Proud Conquest trample over Right;  
Afflicted Britain mourned their doubtful Sway,  
And dreaded Both, when neither would obey.   

From Didier and Imperial Adolph trace  
The fruitful Offspring of Great NASSAW's Race,  
Devoted Lives to Public Liberty,  
The Chief still dying, or the Country free.  
Next see the Kindred Blood of ORANGE flow,  
From Warlike Cornet, through the Loins of Beau;  
Thro Chalon next, and there with NASSAW join,  
From Rhosnes fair Banks transplanted to the Rhine;  
Then call the Royal List of STUARTS forth,  
Undaunted Minds that Ruled the rugged North,  
Till heavens Decrees by ripening Times are shown,  
Till Scotland's Kings ascend the English Throne,  
And the fair Rivals live for ever One.   

Janus, Mighty Deity,  
Be kind, and as thy searching Eye  
Does our Modern Story trace,  
Finding some of STUART's Race  
Unhappy, pass their Annals by,  
No harsh Reflection let Remembrance raise,  
Forbear to mention what thou canst not praise;  
But as thou dwellest upon that Heavenly 
* Maria.  Name,  
To Grief for ever Sacred as to Fame,  
Oh! read it to thyself, in silence weep,  
And thy convulsive Sorrows inward keep,  
Lest Britain's Grief should waken at the Sound,  
And Blood gush forth from Her Eternal Wound.   

Whither wouldst thou further look?  
Read WILLIAM's Acts, and close the ample Book:  
Peruse the Wonders of his blooming Life,  
His Infant Patience calming Factious Strife,  
Quelling the Snakes that round his Cradle ran,  
For WILLIAM thus, Alcides thus began.  
Describe his Youth attentive to Alarms,  
By Dangers formed, and perfected in Arms,  
When Conquering mild, when Vanquished not disgraced,  
By Wrongs not lessened, nor by Triumphs raised,  
Superior to the blind Events  
Of little Human Accidents,  
And constant to his first Decree,  
To curb the Proud, to set the Injured free,  
To bow the haughty Neck, and raise the suppliant Knee.   

His opening Years to riper Manhood bring,  
And see the Hero perfect in the King,  
Imperious Arms by Manly Reason swayed,  
And happy Power by free Consent obeyed:  
With how much hast his Mercy meets his Foes,  
And how unbounded his Forgiveness flows;  
With what Desire he makes his Subjects Blest,  
His Favours granted ere his Throne addressed;  
What Trophies o'er our captived Hearts he rears  
By Moderation greater than by Wars;  
How o'er Himself, as o'er the World he Reigns,  
His Life enforcing what his Law ordains.   

Through all his Thread of Life already spun,  
Becoming Grace and proper Action run;  
By equal Virtues all the Piece is wrought,  
Mixed with no Crime, and shaded with no Fault,  
No Footsteps of the Victor's Rage  
Left in the Camp where WILLIAM did engage;  
No Tincture of the Monarch's Pride  
Upon the Royal Purple spied:  
His Fame, like Gold, the more 'tis tried,  
The more shall its intrinsic Worth proclaim,  
Shall pass the Combat of the searching Flame,  
And triumph o'er the vanquished Heat,  
For ever coming out the same,  
And losing nor its Lustre, nor its Weight.   

Janus, be to WILLIAM just,  
To future History his Actions trust,  
Bid her with peculiar Care  
Trace every Toil, and mention every War;  
His saving Wonders bid her write  
In shining Characters distinctly bright,  
Fair to be read, when all that we can give  
To make our Master's Glory live,  
Does of its self insensibly decay,  
When Time the Marble and the Brass devours,  
And envious Winters in sure Ruin lay  
The Pride of Namur's Towers.   

Namur's Towers which War had armed  
Against what human Force could do,  
By WILLIAM's Valour were alarmed,  
Were subdued by WILLIAM's Blow:  
WILLIAM mounted Namur's Towers,  
Second him Jove, and Pallas, Mighty Powers;  
He flew like Pèrseus through the Air,  
The utmost dreadful height to gain,  
WILLIAM and the God of War  
Can only Toils like these sustain;  
Rocks, Rivers, Mountains, Armies, Fire,  
To stop his Glorious Course conspire:  
Why will they conspire in vain?  
What can WILLIAM's Force restrain?  
Behold him from the dreadful height appear,  
And lo, Britania's Lions waving there!   

Europe freed, and France dismayed,  
WILLIAM from the height surveyed;  
He ordered War and Rage to cease,  
He bid the Maese and Rhine in safety flow,  
And dictated a lasting Peace,  
To the rejoicing World below.  
To rescued States, and vindicated Crowns,  
His Equal hand prescribed their ancient Bounds,  
Ordained whom every Province should Obey,  
How far each Monarch should extend his Sway;  
Taught 'em how Grace made Majesty revered,  
And how the Prince beloved was truly feared:  
Firm by his side Unspotted Honour stood;  
Confessing him less Great than Good:  
His Head with brighter Beams fair Glory decked,  
Than those which all his numerous Crowns reflect;  
Established Freedom clapped her joyful Wings;  
Virtue proclaimed the First of Men, and Fame the Best of  
(Kings.  
Whither is wild Fancy brought?  
Whither would the Muse aspire  
With Pindar's Rage without his Fire?  
Pardon me, Janus, 'twas a Fault  
Created by too great a Thought:  
Mindless of the God and Day  
I from thy Altars, Janus, stray,  
From thee, and from myself born far away▪  
The fiery Pegasus disdains  
To mind the Rider's Voice, or hear the Reins,  
When glorious Fields and opening Camps he views,  
He runs with an unbounded Lose;  
Hardly the Muse can sit the headstrong Horse,  
Nor would she if she could check his impectuous Force;  
With the glad Noise the Cliffs and Valleys ring,  
While she through Earth and Air pursues her Godlike KING.   

She now beholds him on the Belgic Shore,  
Whilst Britain's Tears his ready help implore,  
Dissembling for our sakes his rising Cares,  
And with wise Silence pondering vengeful Wars.  
She through the raging Ocean now  
Views him advancing his adventurous Prow,  
Combating adverse Winds and Winter Seas,  
Sighing the Moment's that defer our Ease;  
Daring to wield the sceptre's dangerous Weight,  
And taking the Command, to save the State;  
Tho' e'er the doubtful Gift can be secured,  
New Wars must be sustained, new Wounds endured.  
Anon in Irish Camps she finds her Theme,  
And plunges after him through Boyn's fierce Stream;  
She bids the Nereids run with trembling haste,  
To tell Old Ocean how the Hero past;  
The God rebukes their Fear, and owns the Praise  
Worthy that Arm, whose Empire he obeys.   

She thence to Albion does the Victor bring,  
Albion with Iö's greets her happy King;  
But he declines the Altars she would raise,  
Accepts the Zeal, tho' he rejects the Praise.  
Again she follows him through Belgia's Land,  
And Nations often saved by WILLIAM's hand,  
Ranges Confederate Armies on the Plains,  
And in pitched Battles bleeding Conquest gains;  
Thence to the Points of armed Rocks aspires,  
O'er hollow Mountains bellowing hidden Fires,  
Beholds the Rocks submit, the Mountain's bow,  
And willing Nations Crown the Common Victor's Brow.   

Sudden another Scene employs her Sight,  
She sets her Hero in another Light,  
Paints his Great Mind Superior to Success,  
Declining Conquest to establish Peace;  
She brings Astrea down to Earth again,  
And Quiet brooding o'er his future Reign.   

Then with unwearyed Wing the Goddess soars  
Eastward, to Danube and Propontis Shores,  
Where jarring Empires ready to engage  
Retard their Armies, and suspend their Rage;  
Till WILLIAM's Word like that of Fate declares,  
If they shall study Peace, or lengthen Wars;  
How sacred His Renown for equal Laws,  
To Him the World defers its Common Cause!  
How fair His Friendships, and his Leagues how just!  
Him all Religions, Him all Nations trust.  
From the Maeotis, to the Northern Sea,  
The Goddess wings her desperate Way,  
Sees the young Moscovite, the mighty Head  
Whose Sovereign Terror Forty Nations dread,  
Enamoured with a Greater Monarch's Praise,  
And passing half the Earth, to His Embrace;  
She in His Rule beholds His Volga's Force,  
O'er Precipices, with impetuous Sway  
Breaking, and as it rowls its violent Course,  
Drowning, or Bearing down whatever meets its way.  
But her own King she likens to His Thames,  
Serene, yet Strong, exempt from all Extremes,  
And with fair Speed devolving fruitful Streams.  
Each ardent Nymph the rising Current craves,  
Each Shepherd's Prayer retards the parting Waves;  
Round either Bank the Vales their Sweets disclose,  
Fresh Flowers for ever rise, and fruitful Harvest grows.  
Whither would the Goddess go,  
Sees she not Clouds, and Earth and Main below?  
Minds she the Dangers of the Lycian Coast,  
And Fields where mad Belerophon was lost?  
Or is her daring Flight reclaimed  
By Seas, from Icarus' Downfall named?  
Vain is the Call and useless the Advice,  
To wise Persuasion deaf and human Cries,  
Upward she incessant flies,  
Resolved to reach the high Empyreal Sphere,  
And tell Great Jove, she sings His Image here.  
To ask for WILLIAM an Olympic Crown  
To Chromius Strength and Theron's Speed unknown,  
Till lost in ample Fields of shining Day,  
Unable to discern the Way  
Which NASSAW's Virtue only could explore,  
Untouched, unknown, to any Muse before,  
She from the noble Precipices thrown,  
Comes rushing with uncommon Ruin down.  
Glorious Attempt! Unhappy Fate!  
Too bold the Strong, the Hero was too Great;  
She chooses rather thus to die,  
Than in continued Annals live to sing  
A second Hero or a vulgar King;  
And with Ignoble Safety fly  
In sight of Earth, along a middle Sky.   

To Janus Altars and the numerous Throng  
That round His bolted Temples press  
For WILLIAM's Life, and Albion's Peace,  
Ambitious Muse reduce the roving Song.  
Janus cast thy forward Eye  
Future, into Great Rhea's pregnant Womb,  
Where young Ideas brooding lie,  
And tender Images of Things to come;  
Till by thy high Commands released,  
Till by thy Hand in proper Atoms dressed,  
In decent Order they advance to Fight,  
Yet then too swiftly fleet by human Sight,  
And meditate too soon their everlasting Flight.   

Nor Beaks of Ships in Naval Triumph born,  
Nor Standards from the hostile Rampart torn,  
Nor Trophies brought from Battles won,  
The Oaken Garland, nor the Mural Crown,  
Can to Victorious WILLIAM's Name  
Augmented Honours give:  
His is an ample Plenitude of Fame,  
Incapable Addition to receive.  
Shut then, auspicious God, thy Mystic Gate,  
And make us Happy as our KING is Great.  
Be kind, and with a milder Hand  
Closing the Volumn of the finished Age,  
(Tho' Noble, 'twas an Iron Page)  
A more delightful Leaf expand;  
Free from Alarms, and fierce Bellona's Rage.  
Bid the great Months begin their joyful Round,  
By Flora some, and some by Ceres crowned;  
Command the laughing Hours to scatter as they fly,  
Soft Quiet, gentle Love, and endless Joy;  
Distribute Years for Peace and Plenty famed,  
And Times from better Mettle named.   

Secure by WILLIAM's Care let Britain stand,  
Nor dread the bold Invaders Hand;  
From other Shores in Safety let her hear  
Foreign Calamity and distant War,  
Of which no Portion she shall bear.  
Betwixt the Nations let Her hold the Scale,  
And as she wills, let either part prevail;  
Let her glad Valleys smile with ripened Corn,  
Let fleecy Flocks her rising Hills adorn;  
Around her Coast, let strong Defence be spread,  
Let fair abundance on her Breast be shed,  
And let Eternal Sweets bloom round the Goddess Head.   

Science to raise and Knowledge to enlarge  
Be her Heroes future Charge;  
To write His own Memoirs, and leave His Heirs  
High Schemes of Government and Plans of Wars;  
To hardy Feats our Noble Youth to raise  
And stimulate Desert, with thirst of Praise;  
To lead them out from Ease e'er opening Dawn,  
Through the thick Forest and the distant Lawn,  
Where the fleet Stag employs their ardent Care,  
And Chases give them Images of War.  
To teach them Vigilance by false Alarms,  
Inure them in feigned Camps to real Arms,  
Practise them now to Curb the turning Steed  
Mocking the Foe, now to His rapid speed  
Give all the Rein, and midst the full Career  
Draw the sure Sword, or send the pointed Spear.  
To plant Societies for peaceful Arts,  
Increase our Learning and unite our Hearts;  
Some that in Nature shall true Knowledge found,  
And by Experiment make Precept sound;  
Some that to Morals shall recall the Age,  
And purge from vicious Dross the sinking Stage;  
Some that with Care true Eloquence shall teach,  
And to just Ideoms fix our doubtful Speech:  
That distant Realms may from our Authors know,  
The Thanks we to Our MONARCH owe;  
And Schools profess our Tongue through every Land,  
That have invoked His Aid, or blest his Hand.   

Let His High Power the drooping Muses rear;  
The Muses only can reward His Care:  
'Tis they that Guard Great Agamemnon's Spoils,  
'Tis they that still renew Ulysses Toils,  
To them by smiling Jove 'twas given to save  
Distinguished Patriots from the Common Grave;  
To them Great WILLIAM's Glory to recall  
When Statues moulder, and when Arches fall.  
Nor let the Muses with ungrateful Pride  
The mutual Obligation hid,  
The Hero's Virtue does the String inspire  
When with big Joy, they strike the living Lyre:  
On WILLIAM's Fame their Fate depends,  
The Song with Him gins, with Him it ends;  
From the bright Effluence of His Deed,  
They borrow that reflected Light,  
With which the lasting Lamp they feed,  
Whose Beams shall ever chase the Damps of envious Night.  
From the wild Ruins of the ancient Court,  
Let a new Phoenix her young Columns rear,  
As may the Greatness of this Reign support,  
An Object worthy WILLIAM's Care;  
Open, yet Solid, as the Bvilder's Mind,  
Be her spacious Rooms designed;  
Let every Sacred Pillar bear  
Trophies of Arms, and Monuments of War:  
There shall the KING in Parian Marble Breath,  
His Shoulder bleeding fresh, and at His Feet  
Disarmed and Stopped shall lie the threatened Death,  
(For so was saving Jove's Decree complete)  
His Genius placed behind defends the Blow;  
Disembled Waters from the Basis flow,  
And Boyn's Triumphant Flood is known,  
For ever in the Wounded Stone.  
Before the Palace, Thames shall softly glide,  
With dear Affection forming long delay,  
Unwilling to be forced away,  
Tho' all the Sister-Rivers chide,  
Fond of Her Lord, forgetful of Her Tide.   

And thou Imperious Windsor stand enlarged,  
With all the Stores of Britain's Honour charged:  
Thou the fair Heaven that dost the Stars enclose,  
Which WILLIAM's Bosom wears, His Hand bestows,  
To the Great Champions that support His Throne,  
And Virtues nearest to His own;  
Round Ormond's Knee, thou tiest the Mystic String  
That makes the Knight Companion to the KING;  
Returning Glorious from the Foreign Field,  
In Thee he pays his Vows, and hangs his Shield.  
Thou smiling see'st Great Dorset's Worth confessed;  
Transcendent Goodness in just Honours dressed,  
The Ray distinguishing the Patriot's Breast.  
(O! long as Breath informs this fleeting Frame,  
Ne'er let me pass in Silence Dorset's Name;  
Ne'er cease to mention the continued Debt,  
Which the Great Patron only would forget,  
And Duty long as Life must study to acquit.)  
In Thee Great Cavendish Name shall long be known,  
The Father's Light transmitted to the Son.  
In Thee the Seymours, and the Talbot's Line,  
With high Pre-eminence shall ever shine.  
And if a God these lucky Numbers guide,  
If sure Apollo o'er the Song preside,  
Jersey, Beloved by All as well as Me  
Shall at thy Altars bow, shall own to Thee  
The fairest Mark of Favour and of Fame,  
Familiar to the Villiers Name.   

Through various Climes, and to each distant Pole,  
In happy Tides let active Commerce roll;  
Let Britain's Ships export an Annual Fleece,  
Richer than Argos brought to ancient Greece,  
Returning Loaden with the shining Stores  
Which lie Profuse on either India's Shores:  
As our high Vessels pass their Watery Way,  
Let all the Naval World due Homage pay;  
With hasty Reverence their Top-Honours lower,  
Confessing the Asserted Power,  
To whom by Fate 'twas given with happy Sway,  
To calm the Earth and vindicate the Sea.   

Our Prayers are heard, and WILLIAM's Fleets Shall 〈◊〉  
As far as Winds can bear, or Waters flow;  
New Lands to make, new Indies to explore,  
In World's unknown to plant Britannia's Power;  
Nations yet wild, by Precept to reclaim,  
And teach 'em Arms, and Arts, in WILLIAM's Name.   

With humble Joy, and with respectful Fear,  
The listening People shall His Story hear;  
The Wounds He bore, the Dangers he sustained,  
How far He Conquered, and how well He Reigned;  
Shall own His Mercy equal to His Fame,  
And form their Child's Accents to His Name,  
Enquiring how, and when, from Heaven He came.  
Their Regal Tyrants shall with Blushes hid  
Their little Lusts of Arbitrary Pride,  
Nor longer bear to see their Vassals tied:  
When WILLIAM's Virtues raise their opening Thought,  
His Forty Years for Public Freedom fought,  
Europe by His Hand sustained  
His own Stupendious Victories restrained,  
And o'er the Righted World Eternal Triumph gained.  
No longer shall their wretched Zeal adore  
Ideas of Destructive Power,  
Spirits that hurt, and Godheads that Devour:  
New Incense they shall bring, new Altars raise,  
And fill their Temples with a Stranger's Praise,  
When the Great Father's Character they find  
Visibly stamped upon the Hero's Mind;  
And own a present Deity confessed,  
In Valour that preserved, and Power that blest.   

Through the large Convex of the Azure Sky,  
(For thither Nature casts our common Eye)  
Fierce Meteors shoot their arbitrary Light,  
And Comets march with lawless Horror bright;  
These hear no Rule, no righteous Order own,  
Their Influence dreaded, as their Ways unknown;  
Through threatened Lands they wild Destruction throw,  
Till ardent Prayer averts the Public Woe:  
But the bright Orb that blesses all above,  
The sacred Fire, the real Son of Jove,  
Rules not his Actions by Capricious Will,  
Nor by ungoverned Power declines to Ill,  
Fixed by just Laws he goes for ever right,  
And Man, that knows his Course, adores his Light.   

O Janus! would entreated Fate conspire  
To grant what Britain's Wishes could require,  
That Sun should cease his Destined Way to go,  
E'er WILLIAM cease to Govern all below:  
But a relentless Destiny  
Urges all that e'er was born,  
Her absent Lord Britannia once must mourn,  
And of the Demi-God the Earthly-half must die:  
Yet if our Incense can excite your Care,  
If Heavenly Wills relent to Human Prayer,  
Exert Great God thy Interest in the Sky,  
Gain every Tutelary Deity;  
That Conquered by the Public Vow,  
They keep the dismal Mischief long away,  
And far as lengthened Nature may allow,  
Reject with happy Power the threatened Day.  
Into the Ocean for his Life designed,  
Throw, bounteous Heaven, innumerable Hours,  
And that stern Fate its strict Account may find,  
Make up that Loss by taking them from Ours.  
Deep in this Age let Him extend His Sway,  
And our late Sons with cheerful Awe obey.  
On His sure Virtue long let Earth rely,  
And late let the Imperial Eagle fly,  
To bear the Hero through His Father's Sky.  
To Great Aeneas, to Themistocles,  
To Pollux, Theseus, Hercules,  
And all the Radiant Names above,  
Revered by Men and Dear to Jove;  
Late let the Newborn N A S S A W- Star  
With dawning Majesty appear,  
To Triumph over vanquished Night,  
And Guide the British Mariner,  
With everlasting Beams of Friendly Light.   
FINIS.   

Books Printed for Jacob Tonson.  
THE Works of Virgil; containing his Pastorals, Georgics and Eneids. Translated into English Verse by Mr. Dryden.  
The Poetical Works of Mr. John Milton, containing Paradise Lost, Paradise Regained, Sampson's Agonistes; and his Poems on several Occasions, together with Explanatory Notes on each Book of the Paradise Lost, and a Table never before Printed.  
The Satyrs of Decimus Junius Juvenalis, Translated into English Verse. By Mr. Dryden, and several other Eminent Hands, together with the Satyrs of Aulus Perseus Flaccus, made English by Mr. Dryden, with Explanatory Notes at the end of each Satire: To which is Prefixed a Discourse concerning the Original and Progress of Satire, Dedicated to the Right Honourable Charles Earl of Dorset, etc. By Mr. Dryden.  
The Works of Mr. Abraham Cowley, consisting of those which were formerly Printed, and those which he designed for the Press; now Published out of the Author's Original Copies. To this Edition are added the Cutter of Coalman Street, and several Commendatory Copies of Verses on the Author. By Persons of Honour. The Eighth Edition.  
The Mourning Muse of Alexis. A Pastoral Lamenting the Death of our Late Gracious Queen Mary of ever Blessed Memory. By Mr. Congreve. The Third Edition.  
A Pindaric Ode humbly offered to the King on his taking Namure. By Mr. Congreve.  
The Birth of the Muse; a Poem to the Right Honourable Charles Montague, Esq Chancellor of the Exchequer. By Mr. Congreve.  
An Ode in Imitation of the Second Ode of the Third Book of Horace. By Mr. Prior.  
To the King, an Ode on his Majesty's arrival in Holland. By Mr Prior.  
An English Ballad: In Answer to Mr. Despreauxes Pindaric Ode on the taking of Namure. By Mr. Prior.  
Instructions to a Painter, upon the Death and Funeral of her Late Majesty Queen Mary of Blessed Memory. By J. Talbot.  
A Funeral Elegy upon the Death of the Queen, Addressed to the Marquis of Normanby. By Mr. Walsh. The Second Edition.  
A Poem dedicated to the Blessed Memory of her Late Gracious Majesty Queen Mary. By Mr. Stepney.  
A Poem most humbly offered to the Memory of her Late Sacred Majesty. By Mr. R. Gould. The Second Edition.  
A Poem dedicated to the Immortal Memory of her Late Majesty; the most incomparable Queen Mary. By Mr. Hume.  
The Triumph of Peace, a Poem written by Mr. Hughes.  
The Court of Neptune, a Poem addressed to the Right Honourable Charles Montague, Esq By Mr. Hughes.  

QUARTO  
The Works of Mr. John Dryden, in Four Volumes. The Plays being put in the order they were written.   

OCTAVO  
Miscellany Poems in two Parts, containing new Translations out of Virgil, Ovid, Lucretius, Horace, Theocrites, and other Authors. With several Original Poems. By the most Eminent Hands. Published by Mr. Dryden. The Second Edition.  
Sylvae, or the Second Part of the Poetical Miscellany. The Second Edition.  
Examen Poeticum, being the Third Part of the Miscellany Poems, containing variety of New Translations of the Ancient Poets; together with many Original Copies by the most Eminent Hands.  
The Annual Miscellany, for the Year 1694. Being the Fourth Part of Miscellany Poems, containing great variety of New Translations by the most Eminent Hands.  
Ovid's Epistles Translated by several Hands, the Fifth Edition; with the Addition of three Epistles of Aulus Sabinus, in answer to as many of Ovid's. Adorned with Cuts.  
Poems, etc. written upon several Occasions, and to several Persons. By Edmond Waller, Esq With the Maid's Tragedy altered. The Sixth Edition, with several Additions never before Printed.  
Epistolary Poems on several Occasions, with several of the choicest Stories of Ovid's Metamorphoses and Tibullus' Elegies. Translated into English Verse, by Mr. Charles Hopkins.  
The History of Love, a Poem in a Letter to a Lady. By Mr. Charles Hopkins.