A POEM ON THE Prince of Orange HIS EXPEDITION AND SUCCESS IN ENGLAND.  
Written by Mr. RYMER.  
LONDON, Printed for Awnsham Churchill, at the Black Swan at Amen-Corner. 1688.   

A POEM.  

Through a Red Sea, from squalid bondage clear,  
We trod a Wilderness long Forty year:  
Till now a Nobler Moses shows at hand  
Our so much promised Magna Charta Land.  
Large were the Grapes, yet perilous the pursuit;  
The Dragon's fierce, that guard the goodly fruit.  
What Mines, what Magazines of danger there?  
Hibernian Monsters mustered from afar,  
Enormous Giants, an unhallowed Train,  
Mighty in bulk, but with more Thumb than Brain?  
Whence Rules of Right, and Lines of Reason razed;  
All Nature's bonds, and fence of Law laid waste,  
And Violence on Violence were thrown,  
And Hills did Hills prodigiously crown;  
Till Heaven, provoked with insolent bravades,  
Throws down their Babel on the Bvilder's heads.   

Now, Oh! what vigour beats in every Vein,  
With warm presage of a Saturnian Reign?  
Eternity a certain Round must go;  
So Spring and Fall; So Matters ebb and flow,  
And the great Wheel, one Revolution o'er  
Returns more bright, more polished than before.  
Truth now no more in dismal Dungeon thrust,  
Nor humane face pressed down to lick the dust.  
The Godlike Power, that now begins to reign,  
New-casts the Slave, and stamps him Man again.  
Fraud crawls away to her dark Den below,  
And Truth bears up with an erected brow.  
No clog our look, nor meaner fears debase,  
Fair Liberty now shines in every face.  
For ugly Cheats in Equity or Law,  
Pure Innocence and Faith without a flaw:  
Ill Weed destroyed, and every seed of Vice,  
The World is now once more all Paradise.   

Where late Prerogative, that Dragon-power,  
Did every honest Privilege devour,  
And still some hot new Proclamations ●ear  
Our sense, that woe to them who speak, or hear:  
Now all restored to blind, to deaf and dumb;  
No Jew, but now owns the Messiah come.   

But Oh! what Genius raised his mind so high  
Above what mortal Contemplations try;  
So Noble flight no Time, no Ages show,  
Trace all the Annals, either old or new.  
But leave the feebler strains of History,  
And on stretched wings let bold Invention fly,  
Then say the Man, the Hero, or the God,  
That in so brave, so generous path had trod.  
Not jason, first who launched to foreign Coast;  
Not Hercules, whom so various Nations boast;  
Not Phoebus, when his shafts foul Python slew;  
Nor jove revenged on the Titanian crew.   

Before he struck the hostile Forces broke,  
And his Commands were heard before He spoke.  
With operation, purely like the Sun,  
He shows his face, shines forth, and all is done,  
So quick, so fair, so mild his influence;  
But touching England, in the way to France,  
That Paris-Walls may once again behold  
Our English Arms, so dreadful there of old.  
So Bacchus, in one marvellous Campaign,  
The Indies brought beneath his gentle Reign;  
No blood he shed, nor laboured to destroy,  
All rest secure, dissolved in Wine and Joy.  
The Conquered, like the Conquerors, all content,  
All pleased, all loud applauding as He went;  
The savage kind, the Lynx, the Panther feels  
His power; they skip, and lick his Chariot wheels.  
Whom ever King the rescued Nations call,  
He truly reigns the Emperor of all,  
A King, a Caesar faintly found his Worth,  
'Tis Orange speaks the greatest Name on Earth.  
But why those Troops, and formidable Mien?  
Seas interpose an hideous Gulf between.  
Nor boots it how Confederate Friends inclined,  
With Land and Seas, He too must fix the Wind.  
Ah, 'tis not strange the Elements complied,  
He marches, God and Nature on his side:  
The God of Wonder waits his Destiny,  
Gives Horse and Foot their Canvas wings to fly.  
Not the Archangel against Hell's black throng,  
So many winged Battalions led along:  
And ne'er did War the like importance show  
With that in Heaven, and this achieved below.   
FINIS.