〈…〉 OR AN ELOGIUM Consecreated to the Right Honourable Sir Robert Viner Lord Mayor of the most Ancient and most Flourishing EMPORIUM of the World the Honourable City LONDON For this Present Year 1694  
GReat Wise, and Politic, to you it is,  
The Lord of Albion's rich Metropolis:  
To you, our matchless Parents Eldest Son  
And you, great Senators, of this new Rome  
●from Apollo's lofty Mount am sent  
With Bays to Crown your civil Government:  
From whose more wise than Greek, or Roman Souls,  
Laws Stand prescribed to the Remotest poles.  
In each of you, this day, seems to take rest  
A Solous Soul, and deep Lycurgus' Breast,  
Comprising in your Sage Election,  
The Epitome of their perfection;  
In framing which, Nature, and Prudence both  
Combined, his better Genius to set forth  
This Jubely (by an excess of Joy  
Transported) to Reiterate, this day  
Our Ancient City, Just and unanimous,  
Doth consecrate herself, to you, her Spouse,  
Commanding me, in verse to entertain  
You, and your Senatorial-Scarlet train.  
Behold, her Household Gods presented stand,  
At every door ready at your command,  
And richest Chariots (as in Triumph) crowd,  
Whilst Streets are filled with acclamations loud.  
S●e how the Silver-Flooded Thames delights  
To Ty●● you in; Proud of her glorious freights,  
Swells and grows big: whilst, in a grateful train;  
Each Vessel ploughs her fresh and curled Maine.  
Here fiery Mars, breaths from his Iron lungs  
In thundering Tones, smart Sulphur-uttering Songs;  
There from his Brasty, thin, and warbling Throat,  
A softer strain, and more melodious Note.  
The Western-Minster first, by their command,  
Saint Martin next, than Clement in the Stand:  
Southern Saint Mary, on the other side,  
And Dunston by the Temple; as you glide,  
All, with a loud but pleasant Music Note  
Ring in your welcome Golden-Stemmed Boat.  
And when arrived,  with aged pain,  
Decrepit Paul, tinkles his portick strain,  
Troubled that younger Steeples should outvie  
Him, in their Loud and lofty Harmony  
Yet Phoenix like, i'th' ruins of his fire,  
(The only relic of that Heavenly Ire)  
Hatched your Zeal, he hopes in better shape  
From older Obsequies new birth to take.  
Old aged Father Lud, next leads you on  
To ●eat you in his situation:  
Gear C●arles his Monument amazed to see,  
And Lumbards' Temple, lately built by thee:  
Whole multitudes on each side crowd the way.  
To view their Father; and observe his day;  
Not much unlike to that Elated glory,  
Read in the Roman, or Athenian Story;  
Who, when the Body politic, made choice  
Of Emperors; cleaned to the public voice,  
And by that universal acclamation  
Established Governors to rule each Nation;  
Justice presents you with het balance Blind:  
But justly equal as your upright mind:  
And whilst, severity, to temperate  
With her and sweet Harmony, you moderate,  
In merciful, and yet in even Zeal,  
With this, you strike the stroke, with that, you heal  
Diviter 〈◊〉 your peerless piety  
The sober Citizens, your Charity,  
The Court, and Camp, by you have favour had  
The good a Crown, their Just reward the bad,  
Your prudent wisdom bears an equal share  
With Fortitude: when Judge of all you are:  
For this gives courage, whilst the other stands  
Firm in resolving to dispense commands.  
Here Crowning Virtue, there correcting Vice,  
You, in this bounty, in that Avarice,  
Check, and encourage; with an open hand,  
Feeding the needy which before you stand,  
So are your laws by prudence fortified.  
By Mercy, Zeal, and Justice magnified:  
In Virtuous Vigilancy limitless,  
In Charity, and bounty Fathomless,  
Go on, Great Prator then, thus qualified  
With moral Virtues, and thus ratified  
With Reason's laws: Go on undaunted, stout:  
And steer this city's helm your Course throughout:  
Live, whilst your Monuments to Church, and King  
In mortal stand: may after Ages sing  
Your glorious deeds: and Poets more divine  
(Filled with the Juice that flows from your rich Vine)  
Whole Volumes write, and deck with Golden vein  
Of their rich Verse, and Silver Muse's strain,  
That when cold Fate shall close your mortal Eyes,  
And Angels guard your Soul to Paradise,  
Bright Albiones chronicles with matchless fame  
M'Embalme th'Story, of your Immortal Name.  Sic vaticinatur appre●aturque Poeta 
And your Lordship's most Humble and most Obedient Servant E. S i e. Elkanah Settle.