A POEM, Occasioned by the General PEACE. By J. W. Gent. Jam Fides, & Pax, & Honour, Pudorque Priscus, & neglecta redire Virtus Audet, apparetque beata pleno Copia Cornu. Hor. Car. Sec. LONDON, Printed for Robert Battersby at Staple-Inn-Gate, near the Barrs, in Holbourn, 1698. A POEM, Occasioned by the General Peace. COuld to Virgil's loftiest Flights attain, To sing the Hero in immortal Strain, Like Pindar, with aspiring Fancy raise Past Human Reach, above the endless Skies, And sing of Gods and Heroes in his Lays. In what great Numbers would I then rehearse? In boundless Thought, and neverdying Verse? What mighty Deeds by Albion's Monarch done, What Battles fought, and early Trophies won? Tell the whole World, how at the rapid Boyne, Undaunted, He amidst a Thousand Slain, Through dangerous Torrents at his Army's Head, Like Caesar Conquered, and like Caesar led: Whilst fawning Waves, and every guilty Stream Lay still, as conscious 'twas the Mighty HIM. There Conquering, crushed at once a Springing War, And sought new Laurels on a distant Shoar. Pitched his Victorious Banners in the Field, Which the whole World with wondering Terror filled. Next Namure's Siege his Daring Courage tried, Namure! which on her mighty Forts relied: Built Strong by Art, by Nature made secure, From bold Attempts of a far greater Power. But when the Great NASSAV before it came, NASSAV Recorded in the List of Fame. How did the Town at his Approaches fear? How bravely fought, 'twixt Safety and Despair? Till with assailing Foes encompassed round, They the true Conduct of our Hero found; Beheld Him wrapped in Clouds of circling Smoke, Which from the Town in Thundering Language broke, Whilst through his Camp, the Bombs in louder strain, Those lesser Murmurs Echoed back again: Their numerous Armies looking vainly on, Saw how He fought, and with what Praise he won Immortal Glory, and th'amazing Town. How did his Fame to farthest Regions move? Swift as the Lightning from the Hand of Jove, Become a Terror to th'amazing Gaul, As to Old Rome, was the Young Conquering Hannibal. Why do I talk of Namure and the Boyne, Are those his only noted victories won? Let Steinkirk, Landen, Mons, Athlone, declare What Deeds He acted, and what Toils He bore: Deeds! well engraved, and seen upon each Place, Shall far outlive all Monumental Brass; And will to future wondering Times be shown, Whilst fleeting Years in endless Circles run, And last, till dull Eternity be gone. Nor is his mighty Power and large Command, Barred to the scanty Limits of the Land; But in his Fleets, renowned for Golden Trade, To th'utmost Bounds of Natures-Self conveyed. His Marine Power's, so greatly Famed for War, That strike th'unknown, like the Old World, with Fear: With Canvas Wings, sail on the swelling Tide, Dance over the Waves, and on the Surges Ride; Through the vast Plains they cut their Liquid Way, To them each Land their willing Tributes pay. The Sooty Indian, when the Fleet arrives, His richest Gems, and dearest Presents gives. The watery Nymphs to them their Corals bear; Menander Swans, and Tagus Golden Oar; Neptune to them does silently submit, And lays his Trident at the British Heroe's Feet. Kings that have Rule beneath the Frozen Zone, And perfect Strangers to th' Allseeing Sun, Crawl from the Summit of the World's great Frame, To pay Respect to Conquering NASSAV's Fame. Through pathless Ways, o'er the Cold Alps they go, And Mountains buried in Eternal Snow; Cross Floods that roll like Cataracts of Nile, In vast Impetuous Torrents down the Hill, Saw with amazing Pleasure every Town, 'Gainst Troops by Albion's Forces won: Then to Victorious WILLIAM's Camp repair, And saw how Great the Hero did appear, All Stern and Raging, like the God of War. What pleasing Change did the new Sight create? How warm their Breasts, with a Young Martial Heat? Which through their glowing Veins diffus'dly ran, And bade the Great NASSAV to Slaughter lead them on. His Sight refreshing, like a Morning Beam, Adds Day to Night, and a new Face to Time; Makes Nature wanton in his ripening Rays, And Belgia Drunk with indigested Joys. Yet Britian, pensive with continual Care, Looks with Impatience to her Rival Shoar: Fearful and Trembling at her Monarch's Stay, Bids the dull Hours anticipate the Day. With Sighs and Prayers, she Courts the heedless Wind, Speaks to the swelling Surges to be kind: And waft him safe o'er vast Tempestuous Seas, Crowned with Eternal Victory and Peace. Far from the dismal Noise of Angry War, Within her longing Arms, to rest for ever here. But see, He comes Triumphant o'er the Main, The Seas grow Calm, the Heavens are all Serene. The Nereids sporting on the Surges sit, And Crowding Sea-Gods stop the hastening Fleet: The Nymphs proclaim Victorious WILLIAM's Praise, And Triton tells it to the listening Seas; The Waves on gentle Steps move slowly on, And grieve to lose his Royal Weight so soon: Whilst Thronging Subjects spread the spacious Shoar, And with his Praises rend the patiented Air: From every Fort Discharged Cannons play, (No longer Dreadful) sostest Sounds of Joy; BRITANNIA rising from her Oozy Bed, Where She in short and silent Slumbers laid. Old ALBION saw, with flowing Joys grown young, Prepared to meet the Hero with this Song. WILLIAM! thou mighty Offspring of a God, On us, by Heaven's Almighty Power bestowed: Heaven propitious to our sinking Isle, T'appoint our happy Genius here to Rule. When we regardless of our Danger lay, Saw Foreign Kings stretch Conquests every way, And Tyger-like, devour th'unguarded Prey. But thy Victorious Arm their Troops subdued, Thy Powerful Rays dispersed their threatening Cloud; Made GALLIA tremble at thy sure Success, And Her proud King to humbly sue for Peace. Peace! in what distant Regions hast thou been? Where so long Exiled from our Sight hast lain? EUROPE could give thee no secure Retreat, Nor ALBION room to rest thy wearied Feet. Wert Thou to PARTHIA, to the INDIES gone? Soughtest Thou new Worlds, unpeopled and unknown? Even there the Fruitful Seeds of jarring War, Grow without Culture, or the tilers Care. Didst Thou not on the Heaven's Great AXIS tread, Whilst Fire and Sword did the whole World invade? See Towns, whose Spires once reached the Azure Sky, Now low Entombed in their own Ashes lie, The effects of Rage, and a Proud Enemy. Till the Great WILLIAM to thy Aid was seen, To lend his Warlike and all Conquering Arm, And Shield each Part of Thee from every Harm; Whilst to his ALBION's Ark, He drew Thee safely in. Say! Welcome Peace, by Ancients thought Divine, Say, in what Words shall I thy Power define; Teach me thy blessed Original, to trace, And prove thy Being from some Heavenly Race. Thee whom the Chaos wrapped in gloomy Shade, Through a long Chain of unknown Time obeyed, Each stirring Atom in the differing Heap, Awed with thy Presence melted into Sleep: No Rebel Seeds did the great Mass divide, The smallest Part its own dear Rights enjoyed. Thus whilst the ALL in jumbled Order lay, And pleased with disagreeing Harmony, Beside thyself, it knew no other Deity. But when the God of Nature spoke the Word, A kinder Scene of a New World appeared; An Infant Sun did the large Globe Survey, And Darkness fled before his Rising Day. All things looked then so Innocent and Young, Birds undisturbed on the green Branches sung, And Silver Streams crept silently along. The Happy Mortals in soft Slumbers laid, Blessed with a Beech-trees thick and growing Shade: No Breast was troubled yet with biting Care, No Mind was fearful of approaching War. The Trumpets Clangor shook no tremb'ling Plain, Nor were there Engines of Destruction seen; They Food from Neighbouring Bushes did receive, And only eat what bounteous Nature gave: None laboured hard for a next Years Increase, Yet soon grew rich in Honesty and Ease. But the succeeding Ages brought to light, Arms, War, and Bloodshed, Rapine and Deceit; Ambition, Interest, Discord, crowded in, And numerous Ills quite changed the former Scene. Which long o'er Man in various Humours reigned, At length in one great monstrous Body joined, Which with its Greatness did the World invade, O'er-powered Countries, Towns in Ruins laid. Till Great NASSAW the growing Ill withstood, Destroyed the Fiend, and slew the Hellish Brood; He the Britannic Conquering Hercules From threatening Harms his Joyful Albion frees, And with his Sword, obtains the wished-for Peace. Fly all the Zephyrs with unusual haste, Touch on yon Mountain, on that farthest Coast; There peaceful Branches from the Olive tear, And to the Presence of your Monarch bear: You Cupids too, that Revel in his Ray, And all around his shining Brightness play. Fly to the Delphian Groves, and quickly come With verdant Laurels laden richly home; Strip every Branch from the Coy Blushing Maid, And tell Her, 'tis for the New Horoes Head. But Oh! how vain must the Young Bard appear, (Whose flagging Wings can't reach so high a Sphere?) Who with unusual Boldness, dares proclaim His uncouth Lays on so sublime a Theme? Yet what dull Fancy could be longer still, And no soft Powers of Charming Muses feel? When Europe's Fate, the Great NASSAV is come From War and Slaughter, Crowned with Laurels Home; New Thoughts untried, my ruder Breast inspire, And warming Zeal sets my whole Soul on Fire: Yet in the bold Attempting of his Praise, How am I hurried to some Erring Maze? On Wings of lawless thronging Fancies tossed, And my whole Thoughts in the vast Perspective, are lost. FINIS.