ENGLAND's Palladion; OR, BRITAIN's Naval-Glory: Expressed in a PANEGYRIC, Beginning with a Loyal Salutation OF THE Royal Navy.  
With Three Additional Poems 

I. A Congratulation on the late VICTORY, etc.  
II. The Burning Island, etc.  
III. A Praemonition to the States of Holland.    
By T. S.  Magna tamen spes est in bonitate Dei. Ovid. 
LONDON, Printed in the Year M.DC.LXVI.   

To the READER.  

AS for the Candid Reader, truly I  
Stand freely to his Ingenuity.  
What need Apologies? This may suffice,  
We know, A word's sufficient to the Wise.   

But ye, Censorious Sirs, who use to find  
Only what doth not please your Squeamish mind;  
If ye find Errors in each Infant-sheet,  
Let not your Envy add to those you meet:  
Or thus; If ye find those that were before,  
Let not your scruples (prithee) make them more.  
But if they do, 'tis all alike to me,  
I fix my Fortune not on Poetry.  
Then Critic, do thy worst; For know, that I  
Pretend to nothing here but Loyalty.  
Critics (I know by whom) are styled thus,  
No better than the Muses, Cerberus:  
Nay, he describes 'em yet more monstrous,  
And says, they be bitt'rer than Archilocus.  
Let Zoilus with Envy ne'er so sharp,  
Squint then; Let poring Momus proudly carp,  
And then (For (Faith) they cannot me displease,)  
They'll even (like Dutchmen) fret in their own Grease.   Hor. Sat. 3. lib 1. 
Qui, ne tuberibus propriis offendat Amicum  
Postulat; ignoscat verucas illius—  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   

ENGLAND's Palladion, etc. BEGINNING With a Loyal Salutation of the ROYAL NAVY, UPON Their Sailing from the Buoy in the North, in the Rogation Week, 1666.  

SINCE men do Courtship now a days invent,  
Why may ned I spend this Loyal Compliment?  
Since some in numbers do attend the Fleet,  
I cannot but in numbers too 'em greet;  
And while the Castles with broadsides contend,  
I needs must this broad side of Paper send.   

Hail, Royal Fleet! May all the good that can  
By God be granted, or be asked by Man,  
Light on ye, May ye ever prosperous be  
In good success and crowned with Victory;  
May ye be blest (if fit) with such excess  
Of happinesses heaped on happiness,  
Till Providence must go no further, and  
Fortune herself at a non-ultra stand;  
May most benign and most prosperous gales  
Fan courteous winds upon your swelling Sails,  
(Let our Rogation be zealous, and  
For blessings on the Sea as well as Land;  
And blessed Lord, by thy Ascension  
Let Heavens blessings now desecend upon  
The Fleet; let all Habiliments be sent  
That may be any way expedient;  
That Heaven thus may all good comforts bring  
To every Soul that fighteth for the King.)  
And as ye were most gladly welcome in,  
(When this brave Rendezvouz did first begin.)  
May ye now well go out into the Main,  
And then return triumphant back again;  
And (in a word) have (I can ask no more)  
Blessings till Heaven hath sent all its store.  
May ye in pleasures swim, while hogen's sink,  
And have above what I can ask, or think.   

But where's my Admiral? his valour's such,  
That he will time enough come for the Dutch  
I'll warrant you, and soon enough to make  
The Dane, the Dutch, the Devil and all to quake:  
(Reader pray for my words take my intent,  
I said the Devil, but the French I meant.)   

When mighty James before the Holland-Coast  
Stood, (though the hogen's did so proudly boast)  
There he most valourously did expose  
Himself and Navy to his numerous foes,  
And e'er he got the Lubbies out to fight,  
He did entice 'em to it and invite:  
Thus may heroic George's swelling fame  
Make 'em even tremble at his very Name.  
And may your foes, Sir, in the Belgick-Fleet  
Like Lambert's Rebels fall before your feet;  
May their Commanders, may each General,  
Before your face too (like proud Opdam) fall;  
May you (my Lord) be far more fortunate  
Than ever Scaevola or Caesar's fate  
Can make them be; May you have blessings more  
Than those I wished (if possible) before:  
May you successful as Vespasian be  
In your Sea-enterprize and Victory;  
And in your Conquests be as prosperous  
As ever Scipio or Curius,  
That you in wealth and honour may increase  
As much as ever did Polycrates;  
So that your Excellency may ned be less  
Than was Metellus in all happiness.  
I'm but a Country Courtier (my Lord)  
Without a Damn, You may take my word;  
I am Rightdown (Sir,) In good faith believ me,  
Your real-humble-Servant, and conceiv me,  
My Prayers are as zealous for you as  
Ever for Oliver Hugh Peter's was,  
And I hope more religious and just;  
Their wicked Prayers were but as the dust  
(Proceeding from a sacrilegious mind,  
Just like their wicked selves) before the wind:  
And their deluding Prayers by the Spirit  
Had justice in the end for their demerit:  
Noll's Soul had doubtless ne'er gone in a storm,  
Had he but loved The Set (sacred) form;  
No Common Prayers, but a common life  
(They say) he loved with Jack Lambert's wife;  
But Jack (an under-Devil) thought no scorn  
So long as Belzebub did graft the horn.  
Hugh ne'er at Tyburn had been in the lurch,  
Had he obeyed his pious King and Church.  
(But hold, I think my Muse is at a lois  
'Twas not at Tyburn, 'twas at Charing-Cross)  
Where he (oh double-grief!) forsook his life,  
And that which was as dear, the Butcher's wife.  
Thimbles and Bodkins now were all in vain,  
Their Charms could never fetch him back again:  
And though they Orphean music once did make,  
They cannot fetch him from the Stygian-Lake.  
May all fanatics that have still his heart,  
Succeed him with a Halter in a Cart.   

And thus much for those grand Impostors, I  
(Leaving them to detested memory)  
Again will to my Loyal Subject fly.    

A PANEGYRIC, etc. Upon a Visit to the Royal Navy, at their Rendezvouz in the DOWNS, May the 29 th', 1666.  


Viewing the Navy on the Beach, etc.  BLess me! What is't I see? What things are these?  
What! Are the famed Aegean Cyclades  
Now sailing on the Seas? Or is a Wood  
Now floating like Dodona on the Flood?  
What mean ye by this most illustrious sight?  
Will ye the Dutchmen from their senses fright?  
Here is a Show magnificent indeed  
Above a Dutchman or Phanatique's Creed.  
These are right stately Maypoles, and which may  
Most gloriously suit this 
* The day of his Majesty's Restauration, etc.  glorious day;  
Their altitude is like Olympus, and  
Exceedeth far the Maypole in the Strand.  
And may they too as much of Fortune bring,  
As thisday six-year brought, unto the King;  
Their whifling, streaming Pendents are beyon '  
The Ladies Pendents, glittering in the Sun.  
(Women are termed Ships, rig'd ne'er so well  
In Silks, they can't those silken Flags excel,  
For noble lustre) What doth here belong  
Too, is (as well as ornamental) strong.  
And Rome's Triumphal Arches never could  
For Show excel these Obelisks of Wood  
These promise victory in their very Look,  
When the French challenged doubtless they mistook;  
And that our English Ships were (did suppose)  
Those Mack'rel Boats which from the Belgick-foes  
Indeed were able (spite of all their brags  
Proudly belched out) to take away their Flags.  
Had they but thought to see this Noble sight,  
They would have had more mind to eat than fight.  
But who is that that doth the Show decrease, 
Prince Rupert being then sailing out with a Squadron (as it was said) against the French.   
By sailing yonder off upon the Seas?  
Why? 'Tis Prince Rupert, I ne'er knew I vow  
His Highness was to go again, till now;  
Farewell most valiant Prince, and may you thus,  
As you are valiant, be victorious:  
And may your share be ample, and complete  
Of all the blessings that I can repeat.  
Ye now appear like Clouds, 
Ships at a distance seem like clouds.  when ye are nigher  
Unto the French, ye will appear like Fire.   

But why are here such peopled throngs as these,  
With gleesom Aspects looking on the Seas?  
Is Jason bringing here the golden-Fleece;  
'Cause Deal methinks doth look so like a Greece?  
No, 'tis not so, They come to see and greet,  
Though not a golden Fleece, a golden Fleet;  
No, here's no Witchcraft, nor no Med'an Arts.  
But yet for 
* Those famous Worthies that attended Jason (as our Reformadoes do) were so termed.  Argonauts here's noble hearts.  
Brave Kent's a Kingdom too (methinks) again,  
Thus to have in her Narrow-Seas the Main  
And Ocean Glory of the British-Isle,  
(On which the Heavens themselves do sweetly smile.)  
A Kingdom? Yes, And of more high desert  
Farr, than when she was ruled by Ethelbert.  
For be it known, That (to her great content)  
King Charles the Second now is King of Kent.  
Xerxes himself could doubtless never boast  
Of greater Power than the Kentish-Coast  
Doth now afford, here is a Bridge will reach  
Cross from the British to the Belgick-beach.   

But now to raise my Admiration higher,  
I am ambitious of approaching nigher;  
Come, let us go then, give us here a Boat,  
That we may to the Royal Navy float;  
(Come Kentish-boys, let those that would not go  
This journey, now repent from top to toe.)  
Now my heart leaps like those upon the Seas,  
Coming so near such stately things as these;  
What ravishment here's for a Loyal soul?  
This, this alone, may Rebels hopes control.  
Come, row away, I long to be aboard,  
To see in Royal Charles my Loyal Lord. 
The Author Boarding the Royal Charles.   
Is this a Ship? Why then, this Ship alone  
May parallel a pretty handsome Town,  
And you may men as populously meet  
Here, as in Cheapside, or in Lombardstreet.   


Viewing the great Cabin.  But what is here? A Palace made of wood?  
Is Hampton-Court now floating on the flood?  
But ah! I now my General espy,  
If this be not his Lordship, may I die.  
And (now I humbly kiss your hand) I wish  
You be made happy both by flesh and fish.  
And now your Honour happily is come,  
May all the blessings till the day of Doom  
From the Creation that were to be sent,  
Be all at once upon your Lordship spent.   

Heavens bless Royal Charles, and conquest bring  
To Royal Charls' Master, Charles our King;  
May good success and fortune be possessed  
By her not only, but by all the rest.   

Upon their Sailing out on the Thursday following against the Dutch.  
HAil once more, Royal Fleet! now may ye be  
Most prosperous in a final victory;  
And may ye now so happily go out  
To give your Enemies a total rout.  
Once, nay for ever, Hail, I know ye do  
Many times Thunder, yes, and lighten too;  
Then may your thundering Canons so affright,  
(Together with their fire-spitting light)  
So scare and scorch the Dutchmen, that they may  
Be either took, or sunk, or runaway;  
And may ye too most powerfully Reign,  
Till ye are of the Universal Main  
And Ocean-Sea chief Mornarch: May ye thus  
Hail, Thunder, Lighten, and Reign prosperous.   

Upon a View of them in July last, before their last going out, etc.  

Blessed Navy, Art thou here again? What is  
A PYTHAGOREAN Metempsychosis  
Here transmigrated now in Ships, as than  
That fond Philosopher mistake in men?  
Because here's just such glory as before  
Lay glittering they from off the Kentish shore?  
No, here's no transmigration, but the same  
They are in Substance still as well as Name,  
No Metempsychosis was here conveyed  
But what originally they enjoyed:  
For they, Heroic Warriors, did not die,  
Though they did bravely suffer battery,  
Like noble Combatants they only strive  
After their bloody Battle to retrieve  
Their former sprightly looks, and do appear  
As void of Sadness now as then of Fear.  
And as stout Champions are impatient  
To trace the Martial Field, and quit the Tent;  
So thus have these such valorous desires,  
Their courage, by felt dangers, more aspires.  
They may the more be animated, who  
Do know the most now that the Dutch can do:  
Who though they ' add numerous advantages,  
Had little cause to brag; But such as these,  
If they do but escape a total Rout,  
'Tis thought a wonder to ' am without doubt.  
Then let 'em still themselves with fancies feed;  
While their sad wound till inwardly doth bleed,  
Being (poor senseless wretches) ignorant  
Of their Disease; Then let 'em proudly taunt,  
And with vainglorious solemnity,  
Let Them the Triumph, We the Victory  
Keep; Doutless those the greatest Conquest gain,  
That do the lesser damages sustain.  
Then let us Notes compare, We ' add Losses, true;  
If I mistake not (hogen's) so had you.  
('Tis true an English Ship's to them a Jewel,  
Though theirs with us do even serve for Fuel)  
Had We not for Their thirty gave 'em ten,  
How do ye think they e'er will fight again:  
(Yet when they gauged their matchless Victory  
They found they had of ours only three)  
Thus crafty Gamesters often do begin  
To lose, because at last the more to win.  
And by so doing (this is their device)  
They younger Gamesters often do entice.  
I must confess (great hogen's) it is true,  
It was a Mogen Victory for you,  
‛ Scaping so well your more courageous foes,  
And being strangers to such things as those,  
Made ye, because they did not beat ye more,  
Fancy that ye had beaten them before.  
If Pigmies conquer only shadows they  
Thus think they have enough obtained the day;  
Or like the Psillian Warriors, of a mind  
To fight against their Enemy, the Wind,  
And going out against it, it did blow  
And destroy divers of the Army, though  
The rest of them (when Boreas did cease)  
Returned with Triumph, with victorious Peace:  
Such foolish Creatures (hogen's) will ye be,  
Thus to mock Heaven with a Victory?  
If ye were so Victorious, than I pray  
Stand to it once more; Do not run away.  
Let fair play be had, than we shall see  
Which of the two will have the Victory.  
Let's try it (once more) out, I prithee, and  
Have t' other Touch at Sea, before ye land:  
A Fleet of Wheel-barrows they say ye have,  
The Sea will serve, they need not make your Grave;  
'Tis very needless to attempt a Trench,  
Before ye have done swimming with the Tench.   

Then Royal Fleet, your foes go once more face,  
I know ye are full of Majesty and Grace,  
And are enough undaunted, motives are  
All needless too, to stir you up to War.  
If ye did beat 'em not enough before,  
Ye yet may beat 'em notwithstanding more.  
Great Armies do not every time prevail,  
And greatest Warriors now and then may fail.  
Neither did Alexander (without doubt)  
Return a Victor every time he fought.   

Proceed then, Loyal Souls, and may ye be  
Blest with a final-total-Victorie.   

God save our Sacred King, and Heaven's Crown.  
His Fleet with Conquest, Honour, and Renown.   
So most devoutly prays, one of his Majesty's most Loyal Subjects Tho. Sympson.    

A Congratulary Poem on the Late Victory, obtained July the 25 th' 1666.,  

WHo can be silent now? 'Twere even a Sin  
To see so great a work so well begin,  
And not express a joy; a joy at least,  
That doth so pleasantly my Senses feast  
With Loyal Raptures, Raptures that alone  
Might force Congratulation from a Stone.  
Except those stupid Stones and Stocks that be  
Possessed with a Fanatic Lethargy.  
I cannot (though no Poet) choose but write  
When Heaven doth so signally invite.  
I'm but a Stranger to Parnassus-Hill,  
'Tis Loyalty (not Wit) incites my Quill.  
This joyous News my ears delighteth too,  
More than best Orphean harmony can do,  
In Stones and Trees too; This Intelligence  
Might likewise now (methinks) transport a sense.   

Then let immortal Praise to Heaven be  
Returned for this successful Victory.  
And happy Blessings be continued on  
The work that is so happily begun.  
Let no Ingratitude of ours be  
A stop to further blessed Prosperity.  
Heathens in Triumphs do examples set,  
Who never did ungratefully forget  
To Sacrifice, and their  pay  
Unto their Gods. Why then, without delay,  
(As they in theirs) let us zealous be  
In our Christian Solemnity.  
Nor let us be too forward, till We see,  
That Heaven sends a total victory;  
Nor by too great a confidence omit  
Those Duties that are in Devotion fit;  
Let's mix our Prayers with Thanks-givings, and  
We then shall fight against the Dutch, on Land:  
For Prayers are as prevalent as Arms  
Against an Enemy; those pious Charms,  
As soon will work their general defeat,  
Our Service to the King's in that as great  
As any thing, all Ages likewise can  
Serve him in that too, whether Child, or Man:  
Each sex may join too, (by this holy slight)  
Ladies may in their closerts for him fight;  
Let the blasphemous Dutch cry on, 
* An expression of late very frequently used amongst 'em in derision of our single strength.  We must  
To none (then) but to God a'mighty trust.  
We need no other, his Omnipotence  
Is a secure, invincible defence.  
Then let 'em proudly boast, while Heaven fights  
For England 'gainst those Sea-Amalekites.  
Let 'em in Words exceed, while Heaven knows,  
We by his blessings can prevail in Blows.  
Rodomontades will not do the feat,  
Performances are least when words are great.  
Though (like the 
* Of whom Plutarch speaks, that when he had a Fall, he would spring up again, and with impudence affirm it was he that was the Victor.  Grecian Wrestler) they will  
With impudence say they are Victors still.  
No matter; We at last shall doubtless find  
Their words (nay, actions too) will be like wind.  
Then let us Heaven's help implore, and then  
We need not fear, not fear the worst of men;  
That is the aid, the aid alone will do it,  
The French and all the Danes are nothing to it.  
Let us be careful then to gain the thing  
That doth our selus, our Country, and our King,  
So much concern, when as (alas!) the Task  
Is only but to have, if we will ask.  
Methinks a Triumphs noblest, when we see  
It is attended with Humility;  
Nor let excess now Heaven's love annoy,  
Let moderation circumscribe our joy,  
That so those famous Souls now on the Main  
May perfect Conquerors return again.    

The BURNING-ISLAND, OR The Dutch-Man's Ignis-fatuus.  
Being a Poem on the Fiery-Conquest, or unparallelled Exploit, executed by Sir Robert Holms against the Dutch, wherein about 160. Ships (richly laden) with a considerable Town in the Isle of Schelling, were burnt and totally destroyed. Written Aug. the 16 th', 1666.  


Upon the Author's first hearing of the News, etc.  HAve ye not heard the great Intelligence,  
Enough to ravish (nay, amaze) one's sense?  
But stay, Is this so great a thing I hear,  
Real? Or else doth but my flattering ear  
Transport my Senses only with a Vision,  
Or feigned Dream, that feeds me with derision?  
No, no, 'tis sacred Truth, the Heavens must,  
And will do Justice, let us ne'er distrust;  
George is so holy, and his cause so fair,  
It were a sin of weakness to despair.  
Experience tell us, that He needs must be  
Successful in a pious Victory.  
He is a Joshua that never fights  
Without success against 
* Those whom Joshua (appointed General by Moses) fought against, of whose name any of God's, or good men's Enemies may be called, etc.  Amalekites,  
Who by our Royal Moses once before  
Appointed General, did then restore  
Israel to Peace, and then did civilize  
All God's (as well as good men's) Enemies;  
(Though those 
* fanatics.  Amalekites rebel again  
In heart (I fear), their fancies are so vain.)  
Is our Cause just? then Heaven without doubt  
Can give (though Hogen-Mogen) them a rout.  
Our Sacred Priests too have perfumed the Air,  
With the sweet Incense of the Church's Prayer.  
If good men's Prayers be prevalent and pure,  
The Church is pious and devout I'm sure;  
If her Sons, some, degenerate become,  
Prayers are used by all, and not by some;  
(For her unworthy ones, she counteth all  
Those Antichristian, Anti-Praelatical;)  
Then Doubt begun; Though we unworthy be,  
Heaven may pour out liberality.  
The News is now confirmed enough, the thing  
Is for a certain Truth brought to the King;  
And who his Royal ears dare so surprise,  
Were it but a fictitious surmise?  
Thus if we thankful be for blessings past,  
We shall have fuller blessings yet at last.  
For the 
* The news was brought to Court, on that Thanks-giving-day at might that was appointed to be celebrated within the City of London, and the adjacent places.   was not at an end,  
Ere Heaven did these welcome tidings send;  
And sable night had cancelled not the other,  
Ere Heaven sent occasion for another.  
The tidings of the Evening did Crown  
The Solemn day with Heavenly Renown.  
Not popular vain gloriousness, and such  
As is the practice of the vaunting Dutch,  
But with a mercy, mercy that may well  
" Match the dimensions of a Miracle;  
And this indeed, this New, was solemn-sport  
To the Victorious and Royal-Court.  
Nor was the 
* The day following was the News celebrated in the City of London.  City so ungrateful neither,  
But that they did rejoice two days together;  
(And the next day I could not choose but write,  
And be the Dutchmen 
† An Irony, etc.  weeping Heraclite)  
But when I wept, (to tell the real truth)  
I think 'twas with the wrong side of the mouth;)  
(And I hope too, our causes better be  
Than the Dutch had for their observing 
* The Dutch for their pretended Victory in June kept three Thanks-giving-days together.  three.  
This flaming News such gladness did convoy,  
It made the City too flame all with joy.  
Triumphant Fires were as many here,  
As those Dutch fatal ones did blaze out there.  
They lately so  were I vow,  
I think they have had Bonfires now enough.  
Their fate, 'tis true, deservs an Elegy,  
But yet (for my part) Faith, I cannot cry.  
Or to that passion should I bow, I fear  
IT would only be to shed a joyful tear.  
I must confess I'm sorry that ye are  
Possessed yet of any Men of War.  
I should have gladder been too, if the flame  
Had from your Merchantmen flew to the same:  
I must confess (though I were very willing  
To hear such blessed tidings too from Schelling)  
I had been gladder (as sure as I am,)  
Had it so happened to Amsterdam,  
And should have been as ' merry as a Fiddle,  
hogen's, had all of ye been in the middle.  
But stay, We always ought to be content  
With whatsoever is by Heaven sent.  
It is enough: Let us with patience see  
How the just Heavens our best Carvers be.  
But boundless joys do very often cause  
Expressions to exceed strict Reason's Laws.  
Our Christian Charity ought to be such,  
To show itself to Pagans; nay, the Dutch:  
But when unjustly they will greedy be,  
To exercise all kinds of Injury;  
Then they may thank themselves if Heaven do  
Return 'em Punishment, and Justice too.  
Spoils to an Enemy are just enough,  
Especially to those that are so rough;  
Those were the men that lately proudly conned  
Project, how they ' d dispose of Royal blood;  
And e'er they could our Naval force withstand,  
Nothing would serve their turn, but they must land.  
But now I hope their courage will expire,  
Now it is cooled, nay cooled by (even) Fire,  
(The means was wonderful, that fire should  
Thus cool the heat of Hogen-Mogen-bloud.  
But, one extreme doth drive another out;  
This was the only Medicine without doubt:)  
Now Holland's Wealth was turned into a flame,  
Schelling a Burning-Island now became;  
A Burning-Island? Yes indeed, and truly  
hogen's for you it burnt (too, very) blewly.  
Nor did ye (hogen's) only lose your Treasure;  
But too, (it seems) your Mogen Boat of Pleasure.  
No matter, now ye even may go and keep  
(As well as 
As they did in Thanet.  shoot at) silly, rotten, Sheep.  
This Ignis-fatuus will without delay,  
Put ye too (doubtless) much out of the way.   

But Noble Holms, What shall I say of thee?  
Who with such Loyal magnanimity,  
(By our most Noble General's Commission)  
Was Conduct in this famous Expedition:  
No Greek or Roman e'er did parallel  
This rare Exploit: This truly doth excel  
Lepanto's fame. Indeed, One now may say it,  
That Sixty Six excelleth— Eighty Eight.  
I can't applaud sufficiently your Name,  
I'll leave it to the Trumpet then of Fame.  
Time hath, or will, perhaps a Poet raise,  
Born under better Stars to sing your praise.   
Sit Gloria Deo.   

A Praemonition to the States of Holland.  
NOw why will ye persist? (poor hogen's) Durst  
Ye thus swell with Presumption till ye burst?  
We often say, and 'tis a common word,  
That after warning twice, beware the third.  
Then if again ye on the Seas can crawl,  
And rise, I doubt 'twill only be to fall.  
('Tis Brandy now indeed, or Aquavitae,  
Had need to cheer the fainting High and Mighty.)  
Have ye not seen a Candle clearly shine,  
Just going out, though but a minute's time;  
Or as some persons just before their death,  
Will pleasant seem just at their latest breath?  
So if ye rise again, 'tis Signum-mortis,  
We ' l give ye t' other dose of Aquafortis;  
For ye must know our English Spirit is  
Not Brandy, but Aqua-mirabilis;  
Admirable indeed, and is endued,  
Not with a Frenzy, but true Fortitude:  
For We are not so foolish as to think  
'Tis any policy to fight in drink.  
Royal Commands oblige all Loyal hearts,  
Then let Usurpers play their drunken parts;  
And let them proudly brave it out in State,  
Till Amsterdam hath pawned all her Plate;  
And when all 's done, they ' l find the only thing,  
Is a submission to a Pious King.  
Doubtless could Opdam's Ghost but once appear  
Unto ye now, He would not proudly swear  
Upon the Sacrament; But tell ye that  
In plainer terms, ye must expatiate  
No more your high Ambition, but be  
Endued with more becoming Modesty;  
And that that would be requisite, and best  
Both for your present and your future Rest.  
Thus Mass'anello's Ghost (
* In Royal Arbour.  presented 'tis)  
Once preached such kind of Doctrine too as this,  
That those whom Wickedness doth raise so high,  
Will fall at last again to Misery.  
(And (in some sense) the States of Holland be  
A kind of Fishermen as well as he,  
And do by their Ambition swell as high,  
As ever he, in Popularity.)  
Then ye may take example by this Fellow;  
I mean the poorly St●tely Mass'anello;)  
For he indeed was (it must be confessed)  
Distressed, Mighty, then again distressed.  
Your puffed up Greatness of a windy Rise,  
Is fitly figured by your own 
* In Amsterdam they have this device, whereby to hint the sudden downfall of worldly greatness, viz. The Picture of a Man with a full blown Bladder on his Shoulders; another standing by, about to prick the Bladder with a Pin; the Motto being Quam Subito?  own Device;  
Which by the the smallest prick expires, So  
Your Mottoes proper too, Quam Subito?  
You'll spoil yourselves by leaping such a height, 
The Aconite is so extremely loved by the Panthers, that being by the subtlety of the Huntsman, hung a great height in the Woods, they will with leaping at it strive and kill themselves.   
Like Panther's streining for the Aconite;  
Like Nero's Mother, Ye must needs be high,  
Maugre the fatal Sequel. Then ye die.  
Of Alexander, 'tis observed thus  
By One, ('tis by Valerius Maximus,)  
When with his Conquests proudly swelled, he  
No less than Son of Jupiter must be;  
He then (forsooth) must be a God, no less,  
No longer Man, that Author doth confess;  
Though, That it was (as Tacitus implies)  
One of the three of his ill qualities.  
(The other two do both indeed extend,  
But to an arrogant profusive end.)  
Thus, for a time, because ye have been hurled  
Like prosperous Dice by Fate, into the World;  
Must ye conceit, that presently ye are  
No less (forsooth) than Sons of Jupiter?  
Ye, but by Poor distressed lately known,  
Because to High and mighty now ye are grown:  
Must your Bride's Sphere now no Horizon know?  
Must ye needs higher still, and higher grow?  
Must ye like Ovid's Giants swell so high,  
As to contend with Sacred Majesty?  
Hath Greatness made ye mad, that ye so soon  
Must, with Caligula, needs court the Moon?  
Does your Ambitious Wheel so swiftly run,  
That ye must with Eudoxus kiss the Sun?  
Prithee (poor hogen's) do not run so fast,  
Lest ye (like Phaeton) fall down at last;  
And (while ye mount so high in vain desire,)  
So set the Belgic Country all on fire.  
(But that is needless; For it seems we do  
Fire your Ships; yes, and your Houses too.)  
Alas! (but like the Babel-builders) ye  
In your Luciferous projectings be.  
Confusion must needs attend such hopes,  
Whose bold aspire have no narrower scopes.  
Then (ye have need enough of, it I'm sure)  
Take yet a Sovereign, and easy cure.  

Suetonius in in vitâ, etc.  Augustus Caesar's Ingenuity  
Was much; nor yet was less his Clemency:  
When he by Proclamation did decree,  
A large reward to any that should be  
The happy Victor, to bring him the head  
Of a then famous Pirate: (As 'twas said;)  
The Pirate hearing this, as boldly came,  
As wisely, and laid at his feet the same.  
Caesar then pardoned his past offence,  
And then rewarded too his confidence  
That he had in his mercy; This may be  
(hogen's) Exemplary, If wisely ye  
Will but submit unto his Royal will,  
Carolus Caesar will have mercy still.  
(I might have said, Augustus Caesar, He  
I hope ye knows August enough for ye.)  
Do not contend, (Ye must at last submit,  
In spite of all the wit of proud De Wit.)  
But cast your selves (it is the wisest thing)  
Upon the Royal Honour of a King.  
A King, that (if ye do it not neglect)  
Can gallantly reliev ye and protect.  
All your French-Mountebanks can do, ye see,  
Is nothing else, but even to take the fee:  
And gazing at each other, now each Elf  
Can only cry, Physician heal thyself.  
But if ye will avoid approaching Fate  
Then do not Phrygian-like repent too late;  
But save the labour (while time doth invite)  
To either runaway again, or fight;  
Lest your conceited Glory do expire  
In vigorous and condign Blood and Fire.  
But do not like such Pseudomartyrs burn,  
Prefer an Vrim then before an Urn.  
Do but submit to Charles, and Penance do.  
He'll be your Vrim, and your Thummim too.  Faelix quem faciunt aliena pericula cantum. Juv. 
FINIS.