A PINDARIC ON His Majesty's Birthday. By Mr. PRIOR Sung before Their Majesties at WHITEHALL, The Fourth of November 1690.  
A Prophecy by APOLLO.  

AS through Britania's Raging Sea,  
Our Great Defender Ploughed his Glorious Way,  
To make our Wishes, and his Fame complete,  
To fix a new our sinking State,  
And fill the great Decrees of Fate.  
Apollo turned the Mistick Book,   

In which Recorded lies the certain Doom  
Of Time unborn, and Years to come;  
Auspicious Omens thence he took,  
Laurel adorned his Brow, and Joy his Look;  
Aloud he Blest the happy Day,  
Whose lustre twice returned must see,  
Truth Restored, and Albion Free.  
Aloud he bade the mighty Months proceed,  
All Decked with fair Success, and Crowned with happy Deed.  
He Smiled, and struck the Lyre and said,   

Heaven has Reversed Britania's Doom:  
Her promised Day appears, her better Fate is come.  
The gentle Star, whose joyful Ray,  
Enlivened this Auspicious Day,  
When Holland blessed the Hero's Birth,  
Doth with diffusive Goodness shed,  
It's larger Gifts, o'er Britain's rising Head,  
And thence, around the Joyful Earth.   

Ye Sacred Muses, whose Harmonious lays  
Are destined to Record his Praise.  
Prepare with Solemn Joy, prepare  
The cheerful Consort of the War:  
Awake the Trumpets, rouse the Drums,  
The King, the Conqueror, the Hero comes,  
With shining. Arms he decks the listed Fields,  
IO Britannia! They, JERNE yields,  
IO Britannia! B●ess the Conqueror,  
Put all thy Glory on, exert thy Power;  
And greet thy WILLIAM's happy Toil,  
Assert the Sea, defend the 〈◊〉,  
And on the lower World look safely down,  
Thyself a World alone.   

See on the Continent appear,  
Engaging Troops and ready War.  
On Foreign Plains the British Armies shine,  
WILLIAM leads on, and Victory pursues,  
And on Skin's Banks the Hero well renews  
The Glories of the Boyne.  
Delivered Gallia dreading now no more,  
Tyrannic Might, and Lawless Power,  
Obeys her Ancient Conqueror.  
O'er Eur●pe freed Victorious WILLIAM Reigns,  
And sullen War, and vanquisheed Pride,  
Behind his Chariot Wheels are 〈◊〉  
In Everlasting Chains.   

Bid the Drums and Trumpets cease,  
And Tune the softer Instruments of Peace;  
All that through Speaking Pipes convey  
Sounds of Delights, and Images of Joy;  
All that by Artful Charms, or Vocal Wires,  
In happy Numbers gently can Express,  
All the Pleasure, all the Bliss,  
That WILLIAM's Cares Deserv●●, or MARY's Love Requires.   

MARIA now no longer Fear  
The doubtful Chance of horrid war;  
No longer Arm thy Hero with thy Prayer;  
To Battle he no more shall Ride,  
No more for Thee, and His Britania Bleed.  
Saturnian Ages are renewed, and Golden Times succeed:  
The shining Years begin their happy Race,  
With Conquest Crowned, and Blest with Peace.   

Fair Plenty opens wide her bounteous Hand,  
And throws her Gifts o'er all the Land.  
Virtue does with Heaven conspire,  
To make Britania's Joys entire,  
Whilst WILLIAM, and whilst MARY Reign.  
Astrea has forsaken the Stars,  
And joined her Throne to Theirs,  
Nor shall return from Earth again,  
Whilst WILLIAM, and whilst MARY Reign.    

Printed for john Amery in Fleetstreet. 1690.