html.skin-theme-clientpref-night @media(prefers-color-scheme:dark){html.skin-theme-clientpref-os }The modern Nimrod, with a safe delight
Persuing Beasts, that save themselves by flight,
Grown proud, and weary of his wonted Game,
Would Christians chase, and Sacrifice to fame.
A Prince with Eunuchs and the softer Sex
Shut up so long, would Warlike Nations vex;
Provoke the German, and neglecting Heaven,
Forget the Truce for which his Oath was given.
His Grand Visier presuming to invest,
The chief Imperial City of the West;
With the first Charge compell'd in hast to rise,
His Treasure, Tents, and Cannon left a Prise:
The Standard lost, and Janisaries slain,
Render the hopes he gave his Master, vain.
The flying Turks, that bring these[errata 1] tidings home,
Renew the Memory of his Fathers Doom;
And his Guard Murmurs, that so often brings
Down from the Throne their unsuccessful Kings.
The trembling Sultan's forc't to expiate,
His own ill Conduct by another's Fate:
The Grand Visier, a Tyrant tho' a Slave,
A fair Example to his Master gave;
He Bassa's Heads, to save his own made fly,
And now, the Sultan to preserve must dye.
The fatal Bow-string was not in his thought,
When breaking Truce, he so unjustly fought;
Made the World tremble with a numerous Hoast,
And of undoubted Victory did boast.
Strangled he lyes! yet seems to cry aloud
To warn the Mighty, and instruct the Proud;
That of the Great neglecting to be Just,
Heav'n in a Moment makes an heap of Dust.
The Turks so low; why should the Christians loose
Such an advantage of their Barbarous Foes?
Neglect their present Ruin to compleat,
Before another Solyman they get?
Too late they would with shame, repenting, dread
That numerous Heard by such a Lyon lead.
He, Rhodes and Buda from the Christians tore,
Which timely Union might again restore.
But sparing Turks, as if with Rage possest,
The Christians perish by themselves opprest:
Cities and Provinces so dearly won,
That the Victorious People are undone.
What Angel shall descend to reconcile
The Christian States, and end their Guilty Toyl?
A Prince more fit from Heav'n we cannot ask,
Than Britain's King for such a Glorious task:
His dreadful Navy, and his lovely Mind,
Gives him the Fear and Favour of Mankind.
His Warrant does the Christian Faith defend;
On that relying all their Quarrels end.
The Peace is sign'd, and Britain does obtain,
What Rome had sought from her fierce Sons in vain.
In Battels won Fortune a part doth claim,
And Soldiers have their Portion in the Fame:
In this successful Union we find
Only the Tryumph of a worthy Mind:
'Tis all accomplisht by his Royal Word,
Without unsheathing the destructive Sword;
Without a Tax upon his Subjects laid,
Their Peace disturb'd, their Plenty or their Trade.
And what can they to such a Prince deny,
With whose Desires the Greatest Kings comply?
The Arts of Peace are not to him unknown,
This happy way he marcht into the Throne;
And we owe more to Heav'n than to the Sword,
The wisht return of so benign a Lord.
Charles by Old Greece, with a new Freedom grac'd
Above her Antique Heroes shall be plac'd.
What Theseus did, or Theban Hercules
Holds no compare with this Victorious Peace;
Which on the Turks shall greater Honour gain,
Then all their Giants and their Monsters slain.
Those are bold Tales, in fabulous Ages told;
This Glorious Act the Living do behold.