A Pindarick Ode ON HIS Majesties Return from the Campaign, 1691.  

I.  
LET me adore thee, Virtue; for thou art  
Of the Divinity a part.  
A part! a mighty part! the spacious Ball,  
By no less ligament to be secured,  
Owns thee her active heat, her Vital Soul;  
By thee the good by whom thou art adored,  
Are to their Glories here and their lost first restored.  
Whether on Earth our Eyes we bend,  
Or view the liquid Ocean from the Land,  
Thy Charms diffusive are as thy Command.  
War, Famine, Plague, and all the Ills, we find  
showered down on reprobate mankind,  
Lessen 'tis true our human Race;  
But stifle not thy glorious Praise:  
That like a Palm depressed does higher rise,  
And tours to its Original Empire far above the Skies   

II.  
How then are poor mankind engaged?  
How are thy humble Votaries obliged  
To fix the mighty Pillars of thy Love  
Below, as heaven has fixed them safe above?  
What? that I may thy mighty due  
Into a fair Compendium draw.  
What does this Land( thy Charge) to thy protection owe?  
'tis true too many daily do desert  
Thy good, thy persecuted Cause:  
Too many more abuse thy sacred Laws:  
Yet still thou'rt of Divinity a part.  
Thou knowest there are a glorious few,  
( Oh that the multitude were so!)  
Thou know'st it,& hast lodged their safety in thy heart.   

III.  
Ah! may it be allowed the wise  
e'en to presume Impossibilities.  
Ah had( tho then th'adst ceased to be,  
I'll still presume impossibility)  
Had our one frailty of Revenge  
inspired thy nobler Mass?  
Had Pride usurped good Natures place,  
And made this ugly and unnatural Change?  
How had we fallen? how had a Flood  
Of monstrous and ignoble Blood,  
Glutted the malice of our Foes?  
How had our Passions made us sure to lose?  
How had the Vices of a Nation,  
ruined thy Care, and murdered thy Compassion?  
For still, oh Virtue, I suppose  
Thee great. I deem thee glorious;  
Full as thou art of Charms Divine,  
Only incensed at human Sin,  
And sought of Envy thou receiv'dst her justly in.   

IV.  
Then had old horrors rose again;  
Our miseries had flourished then;  
Then e'en thy former Mercies had been vain.  
In vain on raging Seas, in vain on Shore,  
Th'adst guarded safe the conqueror.  
In vain the Winds had thee obeyed,  
In vain with Omnipotent Aid,  
He our Redemption had essayed.  
In vain the Hero on the Boyne  
Had stood, himself the Soul of War,  
Re●uking dangers rolling from afar,  
To save the Subject venturing the King.  
In vain too from the Jaws of Fate  
Didst thou the King emancipate.  
The King, the Hero, or the God,  
That while the Bullets round him road,  
All unconcerned as Innocence,  
By his courageous influence  
O'recame pale death's tremendous Dart,  
And struck him chatt'ring back into his Enemies heart.   

V.  
Nor hadst thou thus fulfilled our Woes,  
If thou hadst nipped his laurels thus.  
Vast Scenes of Glory, and Divine,  
Tho there are dangerous gulfs between,  
Must teach the gazing World their due esteem.  
See where he moves, see where he flies  
Alike the terror of his Enemies.  
See where his Foes his Looks revere.  
See where he dares the chance of War  
More than a King so loved should dare.  
Oh Virtue, Virtue, hadst thou ta'en  
Our Vices in remembrace then,  
Scarce had the pious few prevailed,  
Scarce had our Vows that Heaven assailed,  
That Heaven assailed and stormed thy Throne,  
Scarce had their goodness, scarce his own  
Had brought this preservation down.  
But I'll adore thee Virtue; for thou art  
Of the Divinity a part,  
And he that loves thee and reveres  
Thy nameless Beauties, spotless Stars,  
Has nought to doubt, nor ought to fear;  
Thou hast Eternal Crowns, and makest him triumph here.   

VI.  
Witness thy last engaging Love,  
Which with the Just does further weigh  
Than all the laurels, all the Bay  
That e're confirmed the sacred dooms above.  
Yet he still triumphs, still is is awed  
Without the Characters of blood,  
owned by his Enemies, Great; and by the Wiser, Good.  
Mercy the dearest Attribute of heaven,  
And only to Heav'ns Darling given,  
Does( if it can, and sure it may  
When Rebels with its Lightning play)  
In him too splendid and transparent shine,  
And makes him too secure, altho divine.  
But pardon, Virtue, 'tis amiss  
To blame thy darling and thy choice;  
To which we wretched mortals owe,  
In his the mighty preservation  
Of a proud, stubborn, and conceited Nation,  
And his long wished for Restoration now.   

VII.  
Hail thou Example of the Just,  
Whom heaven and Men are glad to trust!  
Hail thou delight and darling of the good!  
The terror of our Vipers here,  
That would their Mothers Bowels tear,  
And the Eternal Scourge of those abroad.  
See where thy People blessed in such a King,  
Their Incense and Oblations bring.  
Thou sav'dst their lives, and 'tis but fit,  
They lay their Livings at thy Feet.  
Thou gav'st them Liberty, their best Estate;  
( Which some would purchase too at any rate:)  
Nay, to secure their Freedom and their Laws,  
Thou dost thy sacred Self expose.  
Bounty immense! what dost thou then require?  
What but a Seal to stamp our Safeties here?  
On may we gladly then comply  
With our own Interests. For Liberty  
None can esteem too much, and none can dearly buy.    

London, Printed for Samuel Manship and the Black-Bull in cornhill, over against the Royal-Exchange, 1691.