1. ON THE
DEATH of Queen ANNE,
And the ACCESSION of
Crowns of Great Britain, &c.
Exhortation to all BRITONS to Unity.
THOSE Britiſh Bards appear to me to
Below the Majeſty of Britiſh Verſe,
Who mortal Painters have vouchſaf'd
T' aſſiſt them in their great Deſigns, to paint
's Woe, when Royal ANNE
What mortal Painter can ſuffice? Deſcend,
Urania, Child of Memory and Jove!
O Goddeſs of Celeſtial Imag'ry,
Queen of immortal Colours, Deathleſs Strokes,
And Graces that can charm the rudeſt Minds.
Speaking, thou paint'ſt with ſo Divine a Skill,
That Gods and Men are raviſh'd with the Draught.
And when thou dictate'ſt to thy Godlike Sons;
Thy Influence makes the Pen's immortal Draught
Victorious o'er the Pencil's dying Toil.
Goddeſs, deſcend then, and inſpire my Song,
That it with native Majeſty may riſe
High, as the ſacred Spring from which it flows,
That I may, painting, ſing Britannia's Woe,
In ſuch a moving, ſuch a melting Strain,
That with Concern the liſt'ning World may hear,
And in the doleful, deathleſs Chorus join:
And for the greater Pomp of piercing Woe,
Muſe, ſhew Britannia to her mournful Lyre,
Lamenting all the Virtues of her QUEEN,
All the great Actions of her wond'rous Reign,
In which the Terrour of the Britiſh Arms
Was carry'd to Germania's horrid Alps;
Their Fame beyond the Ocean's fartheſt Waves.
Then let her wring her late victorious Arms,
And rend the Laurels from her ſacred Hair;
Muſe, paint her Woe, accompany'd with Care,
And black Miſtruſt, and with tormenting Fear,
Fear of falſe Friends, Fear of her Factious Sons,
Paint her in direful'ſt Conſternations, Muſe,
In diſmal'ſt Expectation of th' Approach
Of vile and murderous Idolatry,
Of ſhameful Slavery and endleſs Woe.
But ſhort, O Goddeſs, be the mournful Draught,
And ſhort the Lamentation of the Song:
For lo! the wond'rous Hand of God appears.
Now, Muſe, begin a new and nobler Strain,
Thy Colours vary, and thy Shadows change,
Or let thy Draught, like Holbin
's, be all Light!
Draw what no mortal Painter e'er could draw,
And ſhew Britannia paſſing in an Hour,
From Fear to Hope, to Joy, to Extaſy,
T' immortal Extaſy, from killing Woe.
For lo! the wond'rous Hand of God appears,
Britannia's nobleſt Sons, that had, 'till now,
Been for whole Ages into Factions rent,
All in a Moment, by a ſecret Force,
Reſiſtleſs ſeek their Common Country's Good:
Unanimouſly Hearts and Hands they join,
Unanimouſly, with a noble Fire
Their rightful King, the Royal GEORGE, proclaim.
Heark how the Air with Shouts of Joy reſounds,
With Acclamations of bleſs'd Multitudes!
Heark how aloud with one Accord they cry,
In Imitation of their God-like Chiefs,
Long live the Royal GEORGE, long may he live,
And happy may he reign! Bleſs him, ye Pow'rs,
Show'r down your choiceſt Bleſſings on his Head,
Bleſſings as numberleſs as thoſe he brings
To happy Britain's Iſle! Waft him, ye Winds;
Ye Billows, gently in his Paſſage riſe,
And gently, in Obeiſance to him, fall.
Let the calm Ocean recognize it's Lord,
And land him ſafely on the longing Shore.
But who can e'er th' impatient Longings paint
Of Britons, all on Fire to ſee their King!
See how, at his Approach, their Eyes, Voice, Hands,
Th' unruly Tranſport of their Joy declare!
An Entertainment worthier Majeſty,
And far more pleaſing to the Monarch's Soul,
Than all the pompous Pageantry of State,
And vain Magnificence of dying Show.
The low Obeiſance, and the proſtrate Bows,
That, on all Hands, obſequiouſly are paid;
For theſe may flow from Traytors and from Focs;
But theſe the Loyal Subjects humble Love,
And cordial Joy declare. And, lo! he comes,
And with him brings Britannia's other Hope,
's other Hope, the other Dread of Gaul.
Britannia ſeems to ſee, with raviſh'd Eyes,
Her Godlike Edward, and his conq'ring Son,
After three Centuries, return from Heav'n,
To execute the vaſt Deſigns of Fate.
Heark how the Air ſounds with redoubl'd Shouts,
And all the Welkin rings with vaſt Acclaim!
While the ſhrill Trumpets, with their Silver Sounds,
Inſpire a martial and heroick Joy;
And our deep Cannons formidable Roar,
The Ruler of the World's Vicegerent Thunder,
Bears the tranſporting Tidings to the Skies,
Where Angels louder Hallelujah's ſing,
And all the Spirits of the bleſt rejoyce;
Chiefly the Souls of the triumphant Slain,
Who dy'd to compaſs this Auſpicious Day,
In Blenheim and Ramellia's deathleſs Fields;
With Godlike William at their Head once more;
For he, who dying, to great Marlborough's Care,
Conſign'd themhere, Himſelf commands them there
He Men and Angels in tranſporting Joy,
Surpaſſes to behold this ſacred Day,
William's each Action, and his ev'ry Thought.
All the long Labours of his anxious Days,
And all the reſtleſs Slumbers of his Nights,
Were deſtin'd to ſecure this Sacred Day,
His daily Image, and his nightly Dream:
For this Great William liv'd, and reign'd, and dy'd.
But whither, Muſe, do'ſt thou tranſported rove?
Immortal Child of Memory and Jove,
Return to his Vicegerent here below,
And to the King thy Eyes and Thoughts confine,
On whom the Eyes of Gods and Men are fix'd:
Behold him well with thy immortal Eyes,
That thou may'ſt paint him to the gazing World,
Paint him with native Majeſty adorn'd,
But heightned with a thouſand great Exploits,
Perform'd upon Pannonia's wondring Plains,
Where he for twenty Years victorious fought
Againſt the Foe of all the Chriſtian World:
E'en then the Great Defender of the Faith,
And Champion of th' Almighty, under him
Spotleſs Religion will be ſtill ſecure,
In Spite of all the Attacks of Rome and Hell.
Muſe, Paint no Terrour on his Regal Brow;
But Love and Majeſty together blend;
And let him look a King reſolv'd to rule
Over his Subject's Hearts: Ev'n God himſelf,
The Almighty Ruler of the Univerſe,
Remains unſatisfy'd with all his Pow'r,
Unleſs he has the Hearts of thoſe he rules.
Terreſtrial Rulers, his Vicegerents call'd,
If they o'er ſenſeleſs Matter only reign,
Are but Dramatick Kings; to rule o'er Souls,
Over intelligent, immortal Beings,
Is true Dominion, true Imperial Sway.
Muſe, paint the King, a Monarch, not by Halves,
But let him reign o'er all his Subjects Hearts.
A King who reigns by Parties, is a King
Only of half his Subjects; and the Lord,
Who has th' Affections of the other half,
Is truly King of that. Let Royal GEORGE
Poſſeſs them all; let him deſerve them all
By his juſt, gentle, and impartial Sway.
And that the King may rule o'er all our Hearts,
Grant him, Thou God of Concord and of Love,
Grant him the Glory to unite thoſe Hearts,
Heal our Diviſions, and our Factions calm.
And as thy great creating Pow'r at firſt,
From warring Elements compos'd the World;
So from our jarring Factions, may the King
Form an harmonious and a glorious State,
That Britain, like thy Heav'n, ſerene within,
May ſend its Light'ning and its Thunder forth,
T'affright and puniſh an offending World.
Daughter of Jove, Mother of Harmony,
Exhort thy Britains to fraternal Love;
'Tis our Diviſions that have made us weak,
And to the Nations ſcandalouſly vile:
But mutual Love will make us once more ſtrong,
With neighbouring Nations will retrieve our Fame,
And place the Ballance of the Chriſtian Pow'r
In Royal GEORGE's formidable Arm.
Unite then, Britains, join both Hearts and Hands;
The barbarous Diſtinction of vile Names
For ever be remov'd; be Britons all,
And look with Indignation and Diſdain
On the vile Artifices, that had Pow'r
To divide thoſe whom Heaven and Nature meant,
When it disjoin'd us from the reſt of Men,
Should be within our ſelves for ever one.
The true Britannick Tory, and Church Whig,
Names that debaſe the Majeſty of Verſe,
Odious Diſtinctions, mean but the ſame Thing.
A King by Law from doing Harm reſtrain'd,
But boundleſs in his Pow'r of doing Good;
Over all Perſons, o'er all Things ſupream,
Except Superior and Imperial Law.
A People free, and rul'd by Laws they make,
Proud to be Subjects, ſcorning to be Slaves.
A Church in its own Excellence ſecure,
Abhorring Violence, abhorring Blood,
And mean Miſtruſts, and vain fantaſtick Fears,
Relying firmly on eſtabliſh'd Law,
And Promiſes Divine, which have decreed,
That all the Rage of Earth, and Rage of Hell,
Againſt its Sacred Pow'r ſhall ne'er prevail.
The true Britannick Tory, and Church Whig,
Mean nought but this, and therefore ſhould be Friends.
And the Diſſenter from eſtabliſh'd Rites,
The ſober, ſcrupulous, conſcientious Man,
In Principles political's the ſame:
With both the other, ſince they then all three
In Intereſt and Principle are one,
Let them be three by barbarous Terms no more,
But by Aſfection one, and one by Name:
Let them all three be to each other true,
As to the original Compact they are juſt,
And to their Country's Conſtitution true.
Let the Diſſenter venerate the Church,
And let the Church breathe nought but Heav'nly Love
Towards thoſe who differ from her Sacred Rites,
As ſurely knowing nothing can create
Danger to her, but Want of Love Divine.
For thoſe who quarrel with our Country's Laws,
And with our Frame of Government; for thoſe
Who would be too much bound, or too much free;
Thoſe let us now endeavour to reclaim,
Since they were born our Brethren and our Friends.
Then let the few, of old Republicks fond,
Know, that our Manners profligately vile,
Can ne'er conſiſt with Democratick Sway;
That they require the Curb of Regal Pow'r,
Tho' juſtly we tyrannick Rule diſdain.
Ye Wretches who deſire unbounded Sway,
Would ye be govern'd well, or govern'd ill?
What Fool, what Brute, would not be govern'd well?
Frogs, when they deſir'd a King,
One active and benificent requir'd;
And all the ſounding Bog, whom Inſtinct taught
The Right which Nature gave, with one Accord
Depos'd the lumpiſh, uſeleſs, lifeleſs Log,
And croak'd to Heav'n for Help from the devouring Crane.
Now view the Earth from London to Japan,
Take a Survey of its moſt boundleſs Lords,
Let it be Sultan, Sophy, Czar, Mogul:
Whoever governs well, he rules by Law,
By written or eternal Law he rules;
The Law promulgated in human Hearts.
Ev'n the great Ruler of the Univerſe,
Governs by written or eternal Law;
And none he favours, and chaſtiſes none,
But for obſerving or tranſgreſſing Law;
But in hereditary Realms, how few
Are qualify'd to rule by Reaſon's Law?
Perhaps not four in ten ſucceſſive Kings,
The reſt muſt govern then by ſtated Rule,
Or they muſt govern ill.
Whoe'er in Realms hereditary then,
Declare for boundleſs Pow'r and boundleſs Kings,
They for ill Government in Terms declare,
And are to all their Fellow Subjects Foes,
And Traytors to their Kings; for ſtated Law,
Which alone makes the Safety of the Rul'd,
Makes the ſole firm Security of Kings;
And never Prince, in Kingdoms rul'd by Law,
While Law prevail'd, by free-born Subjects fell.
But thouſands, where unbounded Pow'r prevail'd,
Have fall'n by their own nonreſiſting Slaves;
While feeble Principle, to Nature's Pow'r
Gave Way, and paſſive canting Doctrines fail'd,
As Roman and as Turkiſh Records tell;
Where Slaves upon unbounded Lords depend,
Upon thoſe Slaves th' unbounded Lords depend,
Let him then, who for boundleſs Pow'r declares,
Either recant, or own himſelf a Foe
To Prince, to People, and to human Kind;
And if he dares to own himſelf that Foe,
Let him by Prince, by People, and Mankind,
An univerſal Out-law be proclaim'd,
And like devoted noxious Creatures us'd.
But if, repenting, he deſires a King,
A King the juſt Executor of Law,
Inſtead of an unjuſt and baleful Tyrant,
The bloody Executioner of Will;
By that Deſire he Royal GEORGE demands:
For none of all our Regal Race, but he,
Dares rule by written or eternal Law,
For one in Romiſh Superſtition bred,
And diſciplin'd to barbarous Tyranny,
Will ſcorn all Bounds, and make his Pow'r his Law.
But Royal GEORGE, ev'n in his native Realm,
Where he was leſs reſtrain'd by written Law;
Yet there with Juſtice and with Mercy rul'd;
His comprehenſive Reaſon was his Law.
To his hereditary Subjects dear,
The common tender Father of them all,
Who his Departure for Britannia ſaw,
With the ſame Grief, and the ſame Horror ſtruck,
That Wretches, left on Greenland's horrid Strand,
See the Departure of the Lord of Day,
Th' exhauſtleſs Source of Warmth, and Life, and Light.
With Joy, ye Britons, under ſuch a King.
Unite and grow indiſſolubly firm
To the two ancient Kingdoms of our Iſle.
gave one Monarch, Anna
gave one Law;
For GEORGE the happier Union is reſerv'd,
The Union of Affections and of Hearts;
That Union makes both King and People bleſt,
Makes him the greateſt, moſt renown'd of Kings,
And us a People worthy ſuch a King.
Goddeſs, to whom 'tis giv'n by Fate and Jove,
To bring back what is paſt, the preſent to record,
The future to foreſee, and to unite
Whate'er has been, and is, and what ſhall be.
Let thy loud Britons, ſee with raviſh'd Souls,
What wond'rous Bleſſings will on Britain flow,
Under the King united to itſelf,
While he with Juſtice and with Mercy rules,
With Plenty we and Liberty obey.
That Union in the King will place a Pow'r,
A formidable but a legal Pow'r,
On which our Weſtern Tyrants will look pale,
And all his Subjects look with chearful Hue:
For he with the ſame awful, bounteous Voice,
With which he ſets, to each proud Tyrant, Bars,
And ſays, as God does to the Ocean's Waves,
Here fix thy Bounds, here ſtop thy aſpiring Courſe;
Will make fair Liberty immortal here,
Will make his Subjects bleſt, ſecure, renown'd.
Woe to that guilty Tyrant, who ſhall then
Provoke him to reſume the dreadful Sword,
To lead his Britons and his Germans forth
To meet bright Victory on Belgian
Where they have oft the radiant Goddeſs met,
Where oft the radiant Goddeſs has been pleas'd
To bleſs and crown the Union of their Arms.
What Vengeance will that impious Tyrant urge?
What hideous and amazing Ruin draw
On his accurſed and devoted Head?
In vain he ſhall new Fortreſſes erect,
(As Gyants Mountains upon Mountains hurl'd)
To threat Religion and aſſail the Skies:
The King, like Jove, ſhall crumble them to Duſt
With his avenging Thunder; and his Son,
As once he did on Audenard's wond'ring Plains,
Shall, like the God of War, among them ruſh,
While Dread before him and Amazement march,
And Slaughter and Deſtruction ſtalk behind.
What numerous Triumphs ſhall we then behold
Upon the Land, upon th' aſtoniſh'd Main?
Again Great Marlborough to the German Alps,
With old victorious Squadrons ſhall be ſent;
The German Alps
ſhall tremble at his March,
And from their Summits ſhake th' eternal Snow.
Another deathleſs Blenheim ſhall be fought,
And in its Field another Emperor ſav'd;
Another glorious Ramellies ſucceed,
And fifty Forts and Provinces entire,
Which Perfidy, and Fraud, and impious Gold,
Could ſcarce in fifty guilty Years acquire,
Shall in one Hour before the Conqueror fall.
Orford once more Great Neptune ſhall affright,
And make him apprehend, as at La Hogue,
That Jove's deſcended in Celeſtial Fire,
T' exhauſt and to devour his watry Realm.
Our impious Foes ſhall from all Seas be driv'n;
Nor ſhall the Ocean, which confines the World,
Britannia's Fame and Victories confine.
Both ſhall to new aſtoniſh'd Worlds extend,
's Golden Coaſt,
's more precious Shore:
And both th' Aetherial Andes
Where on the Skies th' ambitious Earth confines;
Britannia's Victories, and Fame, like them,
Shall reach the Stars, and terminate in Heav'n.
Our Ships ſhall o'er the Atlantick Ocean range,
From Florida to the far Southern Cape,
Where the two Seas their Names and Waves confound
In Triumph the pacifick Billows plough,
From California to rich Chili's Shore;
Shall captivate the Veſſels of both Floods,
Their Forts demoliſh, and their Towns deſtroy,
Ravage their Carthagene and Porto Bell,
And Panama, and Royal Lima ſpoil;
Confound the Hope of the aſpiring Gaul,
And teach the proud Caſtilian humbler Thoughts;
Return with the vaſt Treaſure of the Weſt,
And bring home Riches to amaze the World.
Dreadful, alas! ſhall ſpread that War, and wide,
Infecting Sea and Land with Purple Die.
But ſhort ſhall be its tranſitory Rage,
And it ſhall end in Victory and Fame,
Eternal Fame to Britain and her King.
And then a glorious everlaſting Peace,
Crown'd with domeſtick Quiet ſhall ſucceed,
And brood o'er Britain with her downy Wings,
To hatch Felicity and Plenty here.
Then the wiſe Conduct of the beſt of Kings
Will ſhine, and then his Godlike Bounty flow.
The Rich with flowing Plenty will o'erwhelm,
Employ and nouriſh our yet num'rous Poor;
Our Manufactures will encreaſe and raiſe;
Our Commerce will improve, and will extend,
And to our Side incline the pond'rous Scale;
While he, the Ocean's undiſputed Lord,
Will call Divine Aſtrea from the Skies,
And cauſeher Sacred Laws to be obſerv'd
As ſtrictly on the rude, tempeſtuous Main,
As they're obſerv'd on calm Britannia's Shore,
As they're obſerv'd in her own native Heav'n.
The Numbers of his Subjects he'll augment,
Diminiſh'd much by three devouring Wars;
Extend our Culture, and improve our Soil;
Will make the Ocean, now the World's great Waſt,
It ſelf a fertile and a bounteous Soil,
While his bold Britons plough the furrow'd Deep,
And reap a plentiful and living Harvest.
At Home the Rich ſhall jocundly ſit down
In the cool Shade of his own branching Vine,
And with its Juice make his poor Brethren glad.
But when this glorious long continu'd Peace
Shall advance Commerce to its utmoſt Height,
Baſe Poverty, and baſer Paſſions then
For ever ſhall be baniſh'd from our Iſle.
The Riches of the Earth, the Joys of Heav'n
Shall overflow Britannia's bliſsful Plains;
The Eaſtern and the Weſtern World ſhall vie
Which ſhall add moſt to our encreaſing Store.
The Merchant ſhall in ſparkling Ruby drink,
And under Golden Canopies ſhall ſleep,
And balmy ſhall his Slumbers be and long;
The happy Shepherd, with his rural Crook,
Shall the dumb Kingdom under him ſurvey,
And while his Heart diſtends with Pride and Joy,
Shall ſee his wanton and his fat'ning Flock,
The Source of all his Country's Wealth and Pow'r▪
Under their pond'rous Fleeces proudly pant,
While numberleſs, and cov'ring all the Plain,
To the ſhrill Muſick of his jocund Pipe,
Under his raviſh'd Eye they ſtill encreaſe,
And hourly multiply. The whiſtling Hind
Shall ſow the faithful Glebe with ſanguine Hope,
Large Intereſt to extort for what he lends,
And for mild Seaſons and a gentle Reign,
Shall praiſe aloud the Goodneſs of the King,
And the indulgent Clemency of Heav'n.
Fair Liberty ſhall, like the Britiſh Oak,
The long liv'd Oak, grow tall, and branching ſpread,
And Virtue under Liberty grow ſtrong.
For ever Property ſhall be ſecure,
The Publick Credit be for-ever fix'd.
The buiſy Britons, like induſtrious Bees,
Shall drive the idle Drones from forth their Hives,
And Idleneſs be deem'd the Source of ev'ry Vice.
Pernicious Luxury ſhall be reſtrain'd
By wholeſom and by ſumptuary Laws,
That none his Patrimonial Lands may waſte,
And ſo by dire Neceſſity be urg'd
To ſell his Country, and his King betray.
Unmanly Cuſtoms and contagious Vice,
And Fraud beyond the Ocean ſhall be driv'n;
And Faith, and ev'ry Virtue dwell ſecure.
Devotion to the Heav'n of Heav'ns ſhall ſoar
Upon the flaming Wings of Charity,
And fall again in Bleſſings on Mankind.
While vile Miſtruſt, and vain fantaſtick Fear,
And Envy, Hatred, Malice, Rage, Revenge,
Shall take their Flight to Tyrants Courts Abroad,
Or take their Flight to Hell, and plague the Damn'd.
No Paſſion but the Heav'n-born Paſſion Love,
Among Britannia's happy Sons ſhall reign.
No Paſſion here but Love ſhall reign and Joy,
The lawful and the charming Child of Love.
Each noble Art ſhall flouriſh, as in Days
Of Great Auguſtus, or Great Alexander.
Goddeſs, to Thee a Temple we'll erect,
And annual Honours ſhall be paid: To thee
Peace owes its nobleſt Ornaments: To thee
Diſtinguiſh'd Merit owes its chief Reward,
And Vertues ſelf its Immortality.
Thy tuneful Sons their Raptures ſhall employ
To celebrate the Bleſſings, and the Joys,
Of this renown'd and everlaſting Peace▪
Thy nobleſt Sons their Tranſports ſhall employ,
Vertue and publick Spirit to advance;
And great and publick Actions to record,
And to reward with everlaſting Fame;
T' extol the God-like Patriot to the Skies;
To fix on Traytors an eternal Brand;
And on the venal, vile, accurſed Pens,
That with their Lies intoxicate the Crowd,
And make the Beaſts run dangerouſly mad;
While from immortal Merit they detract
Heroick Victories, heroick Deeds,
To which its Happineſs, their Country owes
Its Safety, Spirit, Strength, and high Renown.
On theſe a Brand eternal ſhall be fix'd,
Eternal Lawrels on our Heroes Heads.
A different Hero to each God-like Bard,
And a peculiar Province ſhall be given;
But their heroick Tranſports all ſhall join,
Redouble all their Raptures and their Flames,
To celebrate the King's auſpicious Reign,
And his immortal Name t' extend as far,
As his high Conduct brave, and juſt, and wiſe,
Will fair Britannia's Happineſs extend.