Disparted Britain mourn’d their doubtful sway,
And dreaded both, when neither would obey.
From Didier and imperial Adolph trace
The glorious offspring of the Nassau race,
Devoted lives to public liberty; 90
The chief still dying, or the country free.
Then see the kindred blood of Orange flow,
From warlike Cornet, through the loins of Beau;
Through Chalon next, and there with Nassau join,
From Rhone’s fair banks transplanted to the Rhine.
Bring next the royal list of Stuarts forth,
Undaunted minds that rul’d the rugged North;
Till Heaven’s decrees by ripening times are shown;
Till Scotland’s kings ascend the English throne;
And the fair rivals live for ever one. 100
Janus, mighty deity,
Be kind: and, as thy searching eye
Does our modern story trace,
Finding some of Stuart’s race
Unhappy, pass their annals by:
No harsh reflection let remembrance raise:
Forbear to mention what thou canst not praise:
But as thou dwell’st upon that heavenly name,
To grief for ever sacred, as to fame,
Oh! read it to thyself; in silence weep; 110
And thy convulsive sorrows inward keep;
Lest Britain’s grief should waken at the sound;
And blood gush fresh from her eternal wound.
Whither wouldst thou further look?
Read William’s acts, and close the ample book:
Peruse the wonders of his dawning life:
How, like Alcides, he began;
With infant patience calm’d seditious strife,
And quell’d the snakes which round his cradle ran.
Describe his youth, attentive to alarms, 120
By dangers form’d, and perfected in arms:
When conq’ring, mild; when conquer’d, not disgrac’d;
By wrongs not lessen’d, nor by triumphs rais’d:
Superior to the blind events
Of little human accidents;
And constant to his first decree,
To curb the proud, to set the injur’d free;
To bow the haughty neck, and raise the suppliant knee.
His opening years to riper manhood bring;
And see the hero perfect in the king: 130
Imperious arms by manly reason sway’d,
And power supreme by free consent obey’d;
With how much haste his mercy meets his foes:
And how unbounded his forgiveness flows;
With what desire he makes his subjects bless’d,
His favours granted ere his throne address’d:
What trophies o’er our captiv’d hearts he rears,
By arts of peace more potent, than by wars:
How o’er himself, as o’er the world, he reigns,
His morals strengthening what his law ordains.
Through all his thread of life already spun, 141
Becoming grace and proper action run:
The piece by Virtue’s equal hand is wrought,
Mixt with no crime, and shaded with no fault;
No footsteps of the victor’s rage
Left in the camp where William did engage:
No tincture of the monarch’s pride
Upon the royal purple spied:
His fame, like gold, the more ’tis tried,
The more shall its intrinsic worth proclaim; 150
Shall pass the combat of the searching flame,
And triumph o’er the vanquish’d heat,
For ever coming out the same,
And losing nor its lustre nor its weight.
Janus, be to William just:
To faithful history his actions trust:
Command her, with peculiar care
To trace each toil, and comment every war:
His saving wonders bid her write
In characters distinctly bright; 160
That each revolving age may read
The Patriot’s piety, the Hero’s deed;
And still the sire inculcate to his son
Transmissive lessons of the king’s renown;
That William’s glory still may live;
When all that present art can give,
The pillar’d marble, and the tablet brass,
Mouldering, drop the victor’s praise:
When the great monuments of his power
Shall now be visible no more; 170
When Sambre shall have chang’d her winding flood;
And children ask, where Namur stood.
Namur, proud city, how her towers were arm’d!
How she contemn’d the approaching foe:
Till she by William’s trumpets was alarm’d,
And shook, and sunk, and fell beneath his blow.
Jove and Pallas, mighty powers,
Guided the hero to the hostile towers.
Perseus seem’d less swift in war,
When, wing’d with speed, he flew through air. 180
Embattled nations strive in vain
The hero’s glory to restrain:
Streams arm’d with rocks, and mountains red with fire
In vain against his force conspire
Behold him from the dreadful height appear!
And lo! Britannia’s lions waving there.
Europe freed, and France repell’d,
The hero from the height beheld:
He spake the word, that war and rage should cease:
He bid the Maese and Rhine in safety flow; 190
And dictated a lasting peace
To the rejoicing world below:
To rescu’d states, and vindicated crowns,
His equal hand prescrib’d their ancient bounds;
Ordain’d whom every province should obey;
How far each monarch should extend his sway:
Taught ’em how clemency made power rever’d;
And that the prince belov’d was truly fear’d.
Firm by his side unspotted Honour stood,
Pleas’d to confess him not so great as good; 200
His head with brighter beams fair Virtue deck’d,
Than those which all his numerous crowns reflect:
Establish’d Freedom clapp’d her joyful wings;
Proclaim’d the first of men, and best of kings.
Whither would the Muse aspire
With Pindar’s rage, without his fire?
Pardon me, Janus, ’twas a fault,
Created by too great a thought:
Mindless of the god and day,
I from thy altars, Janus, stray, 210
From thee, and from myself, borne far away
The fiery Pegasus disdains
To mind the rider’s voice, or hear the reins:
When glorious fields and opening camps he views;
He runs with an unbounded loose:
Hardly the Muse can sit the headstrong horse:
Nor would she, if she could, check his impetuous force;
With the glad noise the cliffs and valleys ring;
While she through earth and air pursues the king.
She now beholds him on the Belgic shore; 220
Whilst Britain’s tears his ready help implore,
Dissembling for her sake his rising cares,
And with wise silence pondering vengeful wars.
She through the raging ocean now
Views him advancing his auspicious prow;
Combating adverse winds and winter seas,
Sighing the moments that defer our ease;
Daring to wield the sceptre’s dangerous weight,
And taking the command, to save the state;
Though ere the doubtful gift can be secur’d, 230
New wars must be sustain’d, new wounds endur’d.
Through rough Irene’s ca
mps she sounds alarms,
And kingdoms yet to be redeem’d by arms;
In the dank marshes finds her glorious theme;
And plunges after him thro’ Boyne’s fierce stream.
She bids the Nereids run with trembling haste,
To tell old Ocean how the Hero past.
The god rebukes their fear, and owns the praise
Worthy that arm, whose empire he obeys.
Back to his Albion she delights to bring 240
The humblest victor, and the kindest king.
Albion with open triumph would receive
Her hero, nor obtains his leave:
Firm he rejects the altars she would raise;
And thanks the zeal, while he declines the praise.
Again she follows him through Belgia’s land,
And countries often sav’d by William’s hand;
Hears joyful nations bless those happy toils,
Which freed the people, but return’d the spoils.
In various views she tries her constant theme; 250
Finds him in councils, and in arms the same;
When certain to o’ercome, inclin’d to save,
Tardy to vengeance, and with mercy brave.
Sudden another scene employs her sight;
She sets her hero in another light:
Paints his great mind superior to success,
Declining conquest, to establish peace;
She brings Astrea down to earth again,
And quiet, brooding o’er his future reign.
Then with unwearied wing the goddess soars 260
East, over Danube and Propontis’ shores;
Where jarring empires, ready to engage,
Retard their armies, and suspend their rage;
Till William’s word, like that of Fate, declares,
If they shall study peace, or lengthen wars.
How sacred his renown for equal laws,
To whom the world defers its common cause!
How fair his friendships, and his leagues how just,
Whom every nation courts, whom all religions trust!
From the Mæotis to the Northern sea, 270
The goddess wings her desperate way;
Sees the young Muscovite, the mighty head,
Whose sovereign terror forty nations dread,
Enamour’d with a greater monarch’s praise,
And passing half the earth to his embrace:
She in his rule beholds his Volga’s force,
O’er precipices with impetuous sway
Breaking, and as he rolls his rapid course,
Drowning, or bearing down, whatever meets his way.
But her own king she likens to his Thames, 280
With gentle course devolving fruitful streams:
Serene yet strong, majestic yet sedate,
Swift without violence, without terror great.
Each ardent nymph the rising current craves;
Each shepherd’s prayer retards the parting waves:
The vales along the bank their sweets disclose:
Fresh flowers for ever rise and fruitful harvest grows.
Yet whither would th’ adventurous goddess go?
Sees she not clouds, and earth, and main below?
Minds she the dangers of the Lycian coast, 290
And fields, where mad Bellerophon was lost?
Or is her towering flight reclaim’d,
By seas from Icarus’s downfall nam’d?
Vain is the call, and useless the advice:
To wise persuasion deaf, and human cries,
Yet upwards she incessant flies;
Resolv’d to reach the high empyrean sphere,
And tell great Jove, she sings his image here;
To ask for William an Olympic crown,
To Chromius’ strength and Theron’s speed unknown: 300
Till, lost in trackless fields of shining day,
Unable to discern the way,
Which Nassau’s virtue only could explore,
Untouch’d, unknown, to any Muse before;
She, from the noble precipices thrown,
Comes rushing with uncommon ruin down.
Glorious attempt! unhappy fate!
The song too daring, and the theme too great!
Yet rather thus she wills to die,
Than in continued annals live, to sing 310
A second hero, or a vulgar king;
And with ignoble safety fly
In sight of earth, along a middle sky.
To Janus’ altars, and the numerous throng,
That round his mystic temple press,
For William’s life, and Albion’s peace,
Ambitious Muse reduce the roving song.
Janus, cast thy forward eye
Future, into great Rhea’s pregnant womb;
Where young ideas brooding lie, 320
And tender images of things to come:
Till by thy high commands releas’d,
Till by thy hand in proper atoms dress’d,
In decent order they advance to light;
Yet then too swiftly fleet by human sight;
And meditate too soon their everlasting flight.
Nor beaks of ships in naval triumph borne,
Nor standards from the hostile ramparts torn,
Nor trophies brought from battles won,
Nor oaken wreath, nor mural crown, 330
Gan any future honours give
To the victorious monarch’s name:
The plenitude of William’s fame
Can no accumulated stores receive.
Shut then, auspicious god, thy sacred gate,
And make us happy, as our king is great.
Be kind, and with a milder hand,
Closing the volume of the finish’d age,
(Though noble, ’twas an iron page)
A more delightful leaf expand, 340
Free from alarms, and fierce Bellona’s rage:
Bid the great months begin their joyful round,
By Flora some, and some by Ceres crown’d;
Teach the glad hours to scatter as they fly,
Soft quiet, gentle love, and endless joy:
Lead forth the years for peace and plenty fam’d,
From Saturn’s rule, and better metal nam’d.
Secure by William’s care let Britain stand;
Nor dread the bold invader’s hand:
From adverse shores in safety let her hear 350
Foreign calamity, and distant War;
Of which let her, great Heaven, no portion bear!
Betwixt the nations let her hold the scale,
And as she wills, let either part prevail:
Let her glad valleys smile with wavy corn:
Let fleecy flocks her rising hills adorn:
Around her coast let strong defence be spread:
Let fair abundance on her breast be shed:
And heavenly sweets bloom round the goddess’head.
Where the white towers and ancient roofs did stand,
Remains of Wolsey’s, or great Henry’s hand, 361
To age now yielding, or devour’d by flame;
Let a young phoenix raise her towering head;
Her wings with lengthen’d honour let her spread;
And by her greatness show her builder’s fame:
August and open, as the hero’s mind,
Be her capacious courts design’d:
Let every sacred pillar bear
Trophies of arms, and monuments of war.
The king shall there in Parian marble breathe, 370
His shoulder bleeding fresh: and at his feet
Disarm’d shall lie the threatening Death:
(For so was saving Jove’s decree complete.)
Behind, that angel shall be plac’d, whose shield
Sav’d Europe in the blow repell’d:
On the firm basis, from his oozy bed
Boyne shall raise his laurell’d head
;
And his immortal stream be known,
Artfully waving through the wounded stone.
And thou, imperial Windsor, stand enlarg’d, 380
With all the monarch’s trophies charg’d:
Thou, the fair Heaven, that dost the stars inclose,
Which William’s bosom wears, or hand bestows
On the great champions who support his throne,
And virtues nearest to his own.
Round Ormond’s knee, thou tiest the mystic string,.
That makes the knight companion to the king.
From glorious camps return’d, and foreign fields,
Bowing before thy sainted warrior’s shrine,
Fast by his great forefather’s coats, and shields 390
Blazon’d from Bohan’s, or from Butler’s line,
He hangs his arms; nor fears thosearms should shine
With an unequal ray; or that his deed
With paler glory should recede,
Eclips’d by theirs, or lessen’d by the fame
E’en of his own maternal Nassau’s name.
Thou smiling see’st great Dorset’s worth confest,
The ray distinguishing the patriot’s breast:
Born to protect and love, to help and please;
Sovereign of wit, and ornament of peace. 400
O! long as breath informs this fleeting frame,
Ne’er let me pass in silence Dorset’s name;
Ne’er cease to mention the continued debt,
Which the great patron only would forget,
And duty, long as life, must study to acquit.
Renown’d in thy records shall Ca’ndish stand,
Asserting legal power, and just command:
To the great house thy favour shall be shown,
The father’s star transmissive to the son.
From thee the Talbot’s and the Seymour’s race
Inform’d, their sires’ immortal steps shall trace:
Happy, may their sons receive 412
The bright reward, which thou alone canst give.
And if a god these lucky numbers guide;
If sure Apollo o’er the verse preside;
Jersey, belov’d by all (for all must feel
The influence of a form and mind,
Where comely grace and constant virtue dwell,
Like mingled streams, more forcible when join’d) —
Jersey shall at thy altars stand; 420
Shall there receive the azure band,
That fairest mark of favour and of fame,
Familiar to the Villiers’ name.
Complete Works of Matthew Prior Page 11
