A POEM ON THE CONVENTION Assembled at Westminster, Jan. 22. 1688/ 9.  
Ultima Cumaei venit jam Carminis Aetas,  
Magnus ab integro saeclorum nascitur Ordo,  
Jam redit& Virgo, redeunt Saturnia Regna,  
Jam nova Progenies caelo demittitur alto—  
Aspice Venturo laetentur ut Omnia saeclo.  Virg. 
licenced, January 21. 1688/ 9.   


YOU British Bards, who Britain's Glory Wrote  
As warmly as our British Heroes Fought,  
Be still assisting to your Country's famed,  
And in my daring Song revive your flamme.  
Now I behold our bright Assembly placed,  
With Noble Birth and Nobler Virtues graced,  
Transported with a Vision Sublime,  
My thoughts recall the Pride of Infant-Time;  
I think how the Immortal Senate sate,  
In New-created Heavens Transcendent State,  
The Stars yet wondering at each others Fires,  
And all the Sons of Glory rank't in Quires.   

As various Streams from distant Regions fall,  
And in the Deep their great Convention Call,  
Transmitting thence supplies to every Source,  
And fail not to maintain their rolling Course;  
So from our bright Assembly here combined,  
Each Province does new Life, new Vigour, find;  
Remotest Places are with Plenty crowned,  
And in our spacious Isle no Barren Spot is found.  
Justice as plenteous as our Thames shall flow,  
In Peace the sailor Steer and Peasant Plow.   

Gasping for Liberty we lately lay,  
Our Laws, our very Consciences, a Prey,  
To Savage Priests and Arbitrary Sway.  
While vermin to the Palace did resort,  
And Mushroom-Favourites profaned our Court,  
Whose dark Cabal a Pregnant Monster seemed,  
And every Hour with Britain's ruin teemed.   

While thus upon Destructions Brink we trod,  
What Mortal Aid, or what Descending God,  
Dispels our Fears?— Behold! the great NASSAW  
Shines forth, and makes the threatening Storm withdraw.   

Illustrious Prince! Among the numerous Vows  
Of Pious Hearts that your just Cause Espouse,  
Forgive a Zeal, that by no flattery fired,  
No Malice armed, or Factious Rage inspired,  
Instructs an English Muse this harmless way,  
Her's and the Nation's Wishes to Convey.  
Nor those alone she brings you, for no less  
Than Europe's Fate depends on your success.  
The Thames, the maze, the Tagus and the Rhine  
( Whose distant Streams their Common Intr'ests join,)  
In suppliant manner from your Arms Implore  
That lasting Peace you only can Restore.  
Urge then your Fortune, On, brave Sir, Advance  
Your Sword into the Heart of Trembling France,  
And to their flattered Monarch make it clear,  
How ill his falsehood serves to prop his Fear.  
Then shall the British and the belgic Fleet  
No Rival in their Common Mistress meet,  
But with United Force by Sea and Land,  
The Trade and Empire of the World Command.   

These Benefits and greater, we believe,  
Europe shall from your conquering Hand receive,  
For, faithless France entirely to subdue,  
Fate has reserved for Britain and for you.   
FINIS.   

Printed by Edw. Jones. MDCLXXXIX.