html.skin-theme-clientpref-night @media(prefers-color-scheme:dark){html.skin-theme-clientpref-os }While with a strong, and yet a gentle hand,
You bridle Faction, & our Hearts command;
Protect us from our selves, and from our Foe,
Make us Unite, and make us Conquer too:
Let partial Spirits still aloud complain,
Think themselves injur'd that they cannot Reign;
And own no Liberty, but when they may
Without Controul upon their Fellows prey.
Above the Waves as Neptune show'd his Face,
To chide the winds, and save the Trojan Race:
So has your Highness, rais'd above the rest,
Storms of Ambition tossing us, represt.
Your Drooping Country, torn with Civil Hate,
Restor'd by you, is made a Glorious State:
The Seat of Empire; where the Irish come,
And the unwilling Scot, to fetch their doom.
The Sea's our own; and now all Nations greet,
With bending Sails, each Vessel of our Fleet:
Your Power extends as far as Winds can blow,
Or swelling Sails upon the Globe may go.
Heaven, that has plac'd this Island to give Law,
To Ballance Europe, and her States to awe:
In this Conjunction does on Britain smile;
The greatest Leader, and the greatest Isle.
Whether this Portion of the World were rent
By the Rude Ocean from the Continent;
Or thus Created: sure it was design'd
To be the Sacred Refuge of Mankind.
Hither the Oppressed shall henceforth resort
Justice to crave, and Succour at your Court:
And then your Highness, not for ours alone,
But for the Worlds Protector shall be known.
Fame, swifter than your winged Navy, flies
Through every Land, that near the Ocean lies,
Sounding your Name, and telling dreadful News,
To all that Piracy and Rapine use.
With such a Chief the meanest Nation blest,
Might hope to raise her Head above the rest:
What may be thought impossible to do,
For us embraced by the Sea and you?
Lords of the Worlds great waste, the Ocean, we
Whole Forrests send to reign upon the Sea:
And every Coast may trouble or relieve;
But none can visit us without your leave.
Angels and we have this Prerogative,
That none can at our Happy Seat arrive:
While we descend, at Pleasure to invade
The Bad with Vengeance, and the Good to aid.
Our little World, the Image of the Great,
Like that amidst the Ambient Ocean set,
Of her own growth hath all that Nature craves;
And all that's rare, as Tribute from the Waves.
As Egypt does not on the Clouds rely,
But to her Nile owes more than to the Sky:
So whatsoe're our Earth and Heav'n denies,
Our ever constant Friend the Sea supplies.
The taste of hot Arabia's Spice we know,
Free from the scorching Sun that makes it grow.
Without that heat, in Persian Silk we shine;
And without Planting, drink of every Vine.
To dig for Wealth we weary not our Limbs;
Gold, tho the heaviest Mettal, hither swims.
Ours is the Harvest, where the Indians mow;
We plow the Deep, and reap what others sow.
Things of the noblest kind our own Soil breeds;
Stout are our Men, and Warlike are our Steeds.
Rome, tho her Eagle thro' the World had flown,
Could never make this Island all her own:
Here the Third Edward, and the Black Prince too;
France Conquering, Henry flourisht, and now you;
For whom we stay'd, as did the Grecian State,
Till Alexander came to urge their Fate.
When for more Worlds the Macedonian cry'd,
He wist not Thetis in her Lap did hide
Another yet, a World reserv'd for you,
To make more great than that he did subdue.
He safely might old Troops to Battel lead,
Against th' unwarlike Persian and the Mede;
Whose hasty flight did from a bloodless Field,
More Spoil than Honour to the Victor yield.
A Race unconquer'd, by their Clime made bold,
The Caledonians Arm'd with want and cold,
Have by a fate indulgent to your Fame,
Been from all Ages kept for you to tame.
Whom the old Roman Wall so ill confin'd,
With a new Chain of Garrisons you bind:
Here foreign Gold no more shall make them come;
Our English Iron holds them fast at home.
They that henceforth must be content to know
No warmer Region than their Hills of Snow;
May blame the Sun, but must extol your Grace,
Which in our Senate hath allow'd them place:
Preferr'd by Conquest, happily o'rethrown,
Falling they Rise, to be with us made one.
So kind Dictators made, when they came home,
Their vanquisht Foes Free Citizens of Rome.
Like favour find the Irish, with like fate,
Advanced to be a Portion of our State.
Whilst by your Valour, and obliging Mind,
Nations divided by the Sea are joyn'd.
Holland to gain our friendship is content
To be our Out-gard on the Continent:
She from her fellow Provinces would go,
Rather than hazard to have you her Foe.
In our late fight, when Cannons did diffuse
(Preventing Posts) the Terror and the News;
Our Neighbours then did Tremble at the roar:
But our Conjunction makes them tremble more.
Your never failing Sword made War to cease;
And now you heal us with the Arts of Peace:
Our minds with Bounty, and with Awe Engage;
Invite Affection, and restrain our Rage.
Less Pleasure take brave Minds in Battels won,
Than in restoring such as are undone:
Tygers have Courage, and the Rugged Bear;
But Man alone can when he Conquers, spare.
To Pardon willing, and to punish loth:
You strike with one Hand, but you heal with both:
Lifting up all that Prostrate lye, you grieve
You cannot make the Dead again to Live.
When Fate or Error had our Rage misled,
And o're these Nations such Confusion spread:
The only Cure, which could from Heav'n come down,
Was so much Power and Clemency in One:
One whose Extraction from a Noble Line,
Gives Hopes again that Well-born Men may shine;
The meanest in your Nature, Mild and Good;
The Noblest Rest secured in your Blood.
Much have we wonder'd, how you hid in Peace,
A Mind proportion'd to such things as these:
How such a Ruling Spirit you could restrain;
And Practice first over your self to Reign.
Your Private Life did a Just Pattern give,
How Fathers, Husbands, Pious Men should live.
Born to Command, your Princely Vertue slept,
Like Humble David, whilst the Flock he kept:
But when your troubled Country call'd you forth;
Your flaming Courage and your matchless worth,
Dazzling the Eyes of all that did pretend,
To fierce Contention gave a Prosperous end.
Still as you rise, the State exalted too,
Finds no Distemper, while 'tis chang'd by you;
Chang'd like the Worlds great Scene, when without noise
The Rising Sun Night's Vulgar Lights destroys.
Had you some Ages past this Race of Glory
Run, with amazement we should read the Story:
But living Vertue (all Atchievements past)
Meets Envy still, to grapple with at last.
This Cæsar found, and that ungrateful Age,
Which losing him, fell back to Blood and Rage.
Mistaken Brutus thought to break the Yoke;
But cut the Bond of Union with that stroke.
That Sun once Set, a thousand meaner Stars
Gave a Dim light to Violence and Wars:
To such a Tempest as now threatens all,
Did not your Mighty Arm prevent the fall.
If Rome's great Senate could not weild the sword,
Which of the Conquer'd World had made them Lord;
What hope had ours, while yet their Power was new,
To Rule Victorious Armies, but by you?
You, that had taught them to subdue their Foes,
Could order, teach, and their high Spirits compose:
To every Duty could their Minds engage;
Provoke their Courage, and command their Rage.
So when a Lyon shakes his dreadful Main,
And angry grows; if he that first took pain,
To tame his Youth, approach the haughty Beast;
He bends to him, but frights away the rest.
Then let the Muses, with such Notes as these,
Instruct us what belongs unto our Peace.
Your Battels they hereafter shall Endite,
And draw the Image of our Mars in Fight;
Tell of Towns Storm'd, of Armies over-run,
And Mighty Kingdoms by your Conquest won:
How while you thundred, Clouds of dust did choak
Contending Troops, and Seas lay hid in Smoke.
Illustrious Acts high Raptures do Infuse;
And ev'ry Conqueror creates a Muse.
Here in low strains your milder Deeds we Sing:
But then (my Lord) we'll Bays and Olive bring,
To crown your Head; while you in Triumph ride
O're Nations Conquer'd, and the Sea beside:
While all the Neighbour Princes unto you,
Like Josephs Sheaves, pay Reverence and bow.