I.
Tis so—I feel the warm Poetick Fire
Glow in my Breast, and vig'rous Thoughts Inspire,
In flowing Dress I see the Muse descend
And by her Smiles assures me that she will
For Thoughts as yet unborn, some kind assistance lend.
But tell me Muse, what shall I sing?
What Subject shall my empty Pages fill?
To what New Measures shall I touch the String
Of Great Apollo's charming Lyre?

II.
In Love's soft Numbers I was never skill'd,
Nor Am'rous Odes or Stanza's wrote;
To rugged Satyr I am more inclin'd,
But I am now forbid the Thought,
And must some other Subject find:
But as of old great Archimedes mind
Was with some Mathematick Raptures fill'd,
When he cry'd out 'tis found, 'tis found, so I
The Lofty Subject now Descry,
I must in Lines Prophetick tell the Story
Of Albion's great, and William's greater Glory.

III.
Ungrateful We—have we the Time forgot,
When Laws and Liberties were trampled on?
And England's brightest Glory gone?
When Romish Wolves unboundedly did rove
Through every Field, through every Grove,
And silly Sheep became their Lot;
When all our Hopes to lowest Ebb were brought,
The Great Nassau, that Son of Fame,
Like mighty Belgick Lyon came
And quickly chas'd these Rav'nous Beasts of Prey
From Albion's happy Clifts away,
Dispell'd the Mists of night, and show'd us perfect day.

IV.
Nor stopt he there, but bravely ventures on,
In parts abroad to gain a Victor's Crown,
Great Minds in this, like heav'nly Bodies are,
Which move about the Sphere,
They ne're stand still—alas! our little Isle,
Enough of Laurel could not show,
To grace and to adorn his manly brow,
He must to Forreign Parts for Triumphs goe,
And on the Rhine, the Sambre and Moselle,
Erect large Trophies to his mighty Name,
Which shall remain as Deathless as his Fame.

V.
One mighty Work is yet undone,
A Work in Embrio and not yet begun;
What, did I say the Platform was not laid,
That English Arms might France Invade?
You are to blame, my over hasty Muse,
If his quick piercing Judgment you accuse;
For know long since in Nassau's hidden thought,
The great Design, the glorious Scheme is wrought,
And France is Conquer'd e're the Battle fought:
For tho his Princely Thoughts have been observ'd
To be like Night all secret and reserv'd,
Yet when in Action they themselves display,
What was like darkness hid, is active as the day.

VI.
It is Resolv'd—nor shall thy Fate, O France!
Resist his Vow, nor all thy mighty Force,
So much all Europe's and the World's discourse;
No, tho' from Flanders all thy Troops advance,
Or thy New Conquests should disgorge and spew
From ragged Walls their starv'd and tatter'd Crew,
To make a formidable band,
Which will like Locusts overspread the Land;
All this, and more than this will never doe:
Thy Fate is certain, and thy Doom is seal'd,
Nor will the Saints, which to thy aid
Thou hast in vain so often Pray'd,
Hear thy Complaints, or smallest Succours yield,
With Incense tho' his Altars smoke,
In vain St. Denis you invoke,
And what must still increase thy fears,
Tho' once his Head he lost, he now has lost his Ears.

VII.
Methinks I see the mighty Soul of War,
The Fortunate, the brave Nassau,
Born to teach Tyrants Martial Law,
Sitting at Helm of a rich Naval Carr,
By Moderns styl'd a Man of War,
Whilst pressing Waves o're one another croud,
Striving who first should bear the precious Load,
And the blew Triton's Trumpets sound
From shore to shore on either side rebound:
See in a lofty Charriot drawn,
Neptune the Regent of the Sea,
His Looks all gay as when on Mornings dawn,
He stole from Thetis kind embrace;
See him give up the Badge of Majesty,
His Trident with Prostration low,
To great Nassau, as rightly judging he
Was than himself more fitter for the place,
And how to govern did much better know.

VIII.
See on the Coast of Normandy,
Upon the Beach and on the Sand,
The gaping Troops all wond'ring stand,
Of rabble rout a mghty Hoast,
Could they but fight as well as they can boast:
But by perpetual Slavery
Their minds so spiritless are grown,
Don Quixot who with lifeless Puppets fought,
Not sooner could a Victory obtain,
Than could of Men a handful o're this mighty Train.
Alas, their Souls are not their own,
Their all is for a trifle bought,
And they've exchang'd their Liberty
For welcome Bonds, and doubly welcome Poverty.

IX.
So look'd the silly Indians, when they saw
The Spansh Fleet approach their shore;
The Ships they fancied Monsters all,
And thought they liv'd because they heard 'em roar;
But what amazement did it draw,
When from their sides they saw an Army crawl,
Some, prostrate on their Knees did fall,
But thousands durst not longer stay,
But swift as Wind ran hastily away.

X.
The French with Indians may compare,
If not in Folly, yet at least in Fear;
The Common sort are of a Race,
So poor, so spiritless and base,
That they the Dignity of Man disgrace,
Freedom and Slavery with them,
Are understood to be the same.
But there are yet some quick, discerning few,
Who know the Price of Liberty,
And out of Duty, not of Blindness true,
Yet Wish and Pray against the Tyranny:
These often have with passionate regret
Observ'd their Countrey's sinking state,
And mourn'd and wisht that Heav'n would send
Some kind Deliv'rer for their Friend:
Of a Descent when these shall hear,
Tho they may Counterfeit a Fear,
Yet inwardly rejoyce and sing,
Since by Britania's fate they plainly see,
Nassau's great Aim is Liberty;
To knock their Fetters off, and set them free,
And them from Ægypt to a Land of Canaan bring.

XI.
He Lands, the mighty Hero Lands, when strait the Air
Is fill'd with shouts of Joy and shouts of Fear:
His Troops well Disciplin'd like one Man seem,
And all resolve to stand and fall with him:
Of a Resistance some faint shew is made,
But all as if they view'd Medusa's Head,
Are Charm'd—As was Britania heretofore,
When some time since he Landed on her shore:
He soon the mighty difference quickly shew'd,
Between the cruel, and the just and good,
His business was to Save and not Invade.

XII.
Swift as the Lightning, flyes the News to Court,
A sad, a terrible Report,
For long Debates they have no time to spare,
No Spanish Councils they desire,
Their Votes, must like their humours be, as quick as Fire;
Scarce can they in their Seats be warm,
But comes another fresh Alarm,
That the Arrear Ban did not stay
One Brush, but tack't about and ran away,
And that some thousands of the better sort,
In Troops did hourly to the Foe Resort,
Which like a furious Torrent gust along,
And nothing stopt it in its way,
But that it would without delay,
Down to the very Gates of Paris throng.

XIII.
This News their looks with consternation fills,
With thousand doubts and fears Opprest,
A hurricane arises in the Breast
Of mighty Lewis, who with passion swells:
And am I then so despicable grown?
(Says he) and these disorders too so near the Throne;
Must all my hopes be ruin'd by a Man,
Who is at best but Nature's smallest span;
I thought no Head on Earth had equall'd mine,
But he does all my Councels undermine,
Sees through the dark recesses of my Soul;
Oh Louis! best of Friends and Counsellers,
Who to my Int'rest didst devote thy Hours;
What made the angry Fates to snatch thee hence?
Thou man of deep Intrigue, thou man of mighty Sence;
With ease thou threatning Dangers didst controul,
And by unparallell'd disguise and artifice,
Spoil all the Measures of my Enemies.
Say, my best Friends, what Methods shall I take?
As yet unknown, a mighty Fund to raise,
I've try'd a thousand several ways;
Ten thousand places I have lately Sold,
Made Coblers Gentlemen, for Gold;
And if a greater Sum they cou'd advance,
Equal 'em with the Peers of France;
This I have done, but when I think the whole
Is now in Danger, how it wracks my thought?
And I am into wild confusion brought;
One way, as yet, is unessay'd,
The Cloisters Plunder, and the Church Invade;
Shall useless Plate upon their Altars lye,
While Lewis has an Enemy?
Tho Poverty they all profess,
Yet have they Riches in such store,
The great Mogul has scarcely more.
I'le bring their Worship to an humble dress,
And the Religious, Poor shall be,
Not in Profession, but reallity,
But Pardon, Holy Church, this rude address,
Mothers, their Sons should Succour in distress.

XIV.
Now leave we them in diff'rent projects warm,
Distracted, just like Sailers in a Storm;
Now here, now there, from Prow to Poop they run,
And all their Work each minute but begun,
To view the Progress of his Arms,
Who Mankind with his Virtues Charms,
In more than Roman Triumph while he Rides,
He their low Adoration Chides;
Tells them, he came to Save and to Protect,
To Heav'n they only should allow Respect,
The influencing Cause of such a good Effect,
Yet they their Acclamations give not o're,
But still they more forbid, they shout the more;
So when our Saviour heretofore,
By power Miraculous did Heal
A Man, and charg'd him to Conceal
The secret, and to no man tell his Name;
Tho he returns of Gratitude did pay,
Yet could not that command obey,
But over all Judea spread his glorious Fame.

XV.
To men in Greenland, who a long half year
Have not of Light the least appearance seen;
The Sun more wellcome cannot be;
To Criminanls Reprieves, to Captives Liberty,
Not half so grateful do appear
As great Nassau's Descent,—who long has been
The Obstacle of Europes Tyranny:
Through mighty Cities see him pass,
While num'rous crouds his Chariot-wheels attend
And all applaud and all commend;
With herbs and flowers the Virgins strue the ways,
And think enough his worth they cannot praise;
Nay, the Religious of each Order strive
Who in most studied Panegricks shall
The largest Praises to his Virtue give;
Tho his Religion they dislike,
Yet his Great Actions, and his Name,
Ecchoed through all the world by Fame.
Their Minds with mighty Veneration strike;
The Aged with their Crutches crawl,
And Bedrid Man before he dies,
Is willing for to bless his Eyes,
With sight of him who Gives to Europe Law,
And little Babes are taught to Lisp Nassau.

XVI.
So when the Great Deliverer of Old,
Moses, the Meek, the Just and Bold,
To Israel Tribes his Large Commission show,
Prov'd by his Wonder-working Rod,
They all with awful Reverence bow'd;
But when he led them through the Sea,
With Manna fed them, and by mighty stroke
Fetch'd Water from the hardned Rock;
Their wonder came almost t'Idolatry;
There then were Murmurers a few,
As Korah, Dathan, and his Crew:
And they a Dismal Exit met:
Yet on the Gallick Shore there's scarcely one,
But who approves the Business done;
Yet if there should be some, who with Regret
Their Countrey's New-gain'd Freedom see,
And wish Returns of Slavery,
May they meet Dathan and Abiram's Fate.

XVII.
News of Revolts come every hour to Court,
Which did Adullam's Cave resemble,
For those who made Oppression but their sport,
Or did with guilt and horror Tremble,
To that as to a Sanctuary fly;
Who would a Twig to drowning Man deny?
Few Noblemen, but those whose weighty crimes
Had rend'red them the Odium of the times,
Appear—What course shall mighty Lewis take,
Since his great Friends him and his cause forsake;
He sees the Clouds grow black, and further spread,
And fears the Storm will break upon his Head:
Where shall he go, or whether shall he fly?
To what Dark corner of the Earth,
Famous for giving Tyrants Birth,
Retire, and in confusion sigh and die?
Tho Mother Church does Prodigals receive,
Yet his Repentance she can ne're believe,
Who daily sends to Infidels Relief,
Equals the Turbant, with the Coul;
Thinks Christianity endures no loss,
If the Half-Moon stand rival with the Cross;
Let him, like Cain in antient times,
Guilty of more Nefarious crimes,
Than e're his were, through Deserts roul,
Since his Oppressions, Cruelties,
Were infinitely more than his;
Cain was condemn'd for shedding filial Blood,
He spilt a drop, but this has caus'd a Flood.

XVIII.
He comes, the Conquerour comes, Nasau the brave,
To Gates of Paris, infamously known,
For Blood and Massacres once done,
From both of which, was Born, that place to save,
Where from all parts Addresses come,
Not such as heretofore were made,
When Lives and Fortunes solemnly were laid
At Princes Foot—And all was Masquerade,
All show, and just to nothing came the Sum;
But grateful Sence of what they owe
To his all Powerful Arms, since now,
Too sensibly they taste and see
The Fruits of wellcome Liberty,
With such surprize, as one born blind surveys,
After his cure, the Sun's bright rays;
They see the Halcyon Days appear,
And Peace and Plenty once more flourish there:
If after all these mighty Wonders done,
The great Nassau accepts the Crown,
By double Title now his own,
How greatly 'twill his Fame advance,
When not in complement alone,
But in reallity he's known
To be the Just, the only King of France!

(19)
Leave, leave, a while, my Muse, the Dazling Sight
Of Nassau's Glory,—to survey,
A noisy, vain, imaginary Scene;
For such a Project is no more,
A French Descent upon the English Shore;
The Quarrel is maintain'd with just such Odds,
As when the Gyants fought with Gods:
I view, methinks, with Pity and Delight,
The foolish trifling vain Essay,
And see the Phantoms vanish quite away,
As do the Figures in the Fairy Queen.

(20)
Behold, upon the Brittish Waves appears,
(Some sew Mens Hopes, but no Man's Fears);
A Gallick Fleet, which calls the yielding Stream,
As if she proudly came to claim,
By Force, the English Diadem.
Ah, foolish France! how plainly shall we see,
How silly thy Pretences be,
To aim at Universal Monarchy?
See how the very Elements conspire,
And Winds, and Waves in closest League,
Combine to frustrate thy Desire;
To mar thy whole Design, and spoil the Grand Intreague.

(21)
But should we grant by Magick Spells,
By Exorcisms, or something else,
Thy Priests should charm the very Waves to Peace,
And make the Winds their noisy Blusters cease:
(For what great Wonders can't they do,
Who make their God, and eat him too?)
Should with calm Breezes, and a merry Gale,
Thy whole (but not invincible) Armada sail,
With so much Pleasure and Delight,
As if it came to Triumph, not to Fight;
Yet on fair Albion's Shores, by Heaven's Command,
Whole Troops of Guardian Angels stand;
Who with a Look can drive thee from the Shore,
Cause thee to make more shameful a Retreat,
Than Spanish Fleet in Eighty Eight;
When to the Brittish Coast its threatning Face it bore.

(22)
But should they Land!—and that's a grand Suppose;
What then will be their Fate, Who knows?
If Causes by Effects we guess,
To Delphick Oracles we need not go,
Of this Descent th'Event we know;
And without Magick tell the whole Success;
So quick a Slaughter would be made
Of those, who durst our Shoar invade,
One Man would scarce be left alive,
(Who by good Luck did all the rest survive,)
VVith Sorrow, Passion, and Regret,
In France, to tell his Fellow-Soldier's Fate.

(23)
The FRENCH—Altho' indeed no Terrour lye
In the VVord French, yet there's a strange,
And almost unaccountable Antipathy,
Against 'em does in English Bosoms range;
Should Goths and Vandals, Turks and Saracens,
People who make it still their Trade,
Their Neighbours Kingdoms to invade;
Or a strange Nation come we know not whence,
These might perhaps much more increase our Fear,
VVhen their tall Ships upon our Coast appear;
But not our Rage by half so much incense,
Not Fire and Water more Aversion bear,
Than lyes between the English and Monsieur.

(24)
Suppose they should through Clouds of Fire and Smoke,
Sent from our Fleet—those thundring Sons of Oak,
Rush through, and make a bold Attempt to Land,
Not only Horse and Foot, a numerous Band,
Their proud usurping Force would quell;
But Women, ignorant in Arms,
Dreadless of Dangers, and of Harms,
VVith Kitchen-weapons, Spit and Fork,
VVould do a deal of Murth'ring VVork:
If these the Enemy repel,
'Tis fit they should the Glory share,
And each as Badge of Honour wear,
Close by her Side a French-man's Nose or Ear.

(26)
Had the Descent (so much the Town's Discourse)
Intended been for any Land but ours,
VVhat Consternation would it not create?
VVhat great Convulsions in the State?
VVhereas altho' the threatning Danger's near,
No Face puts on the Livery of Fear.
Gay are our Days, and pleasant all our Hours,
Plenty and Pleasure all our Care;
But Preparations yet are made,
The Foe to welcome, if he should invade;
For 'tis a Truth on Record still,
And own'd by all the Sons of Sence,
'Tis lawful to use Self-defence,
Let Non-Resistance Sparks say what they will.

(26)
But yet before fair Albion they invade,
Specious' Pretences must be made;
INVADE US!—no, the VVord they scorn,
They were for nobler Projects born;
They only come to save our Land
From being by the Dutch trapann'd,
To set a Prince once more upon the Throne,
By Subjects Villanies undone,
On a right Basis our Religion settle,
And separate the Dross from Loyal Metal;
Law, Right and Justice to restore;
With twenty other fine Pretences more.

(27)
Blest Regulators of a blessed Cause,
When French Dragoons shall give to England Laws;
What sort of Creatures are there in the Nation,
Who wish and pray for such a Reformation?
In that Enquiry goe not yet too far,
For in this Town a numerous Croud there are,
Wretches impatient of their Liberty;
Who, tho' they all might live at ease,
Are utter Enemies to Peace,
And long for Wooden Shoes and Slavery;
To utter Ruine would their Country bring,
To Re-instate an Idol-King;
And when with Flames they see the Nation burn,
Not drop a Tear, or Sigh and mourn;
But Nero-like, tune up their Harps and sing:
With them all sober Reason's Stuff;
But they are now grown Satyr-proof,
And all their Mind's impregnable like warlike Buff.

(28)
But leaving them to Racks of Hope and Fear,
To be succeeded by a wild Despair:
See, see my Muse, the lowring Cloud,
Which threatned Storms of Fire and Blood,
Quite vanquish'd from our Hemisphere;
From every side loud Acclamations ring
Long live the warlike King, and beauteous Queen:
Soft charming Musick fills the Air,
Now calm, unruffled, and serene
Musick which chears the list'ning Ear,
Whilst Guardian Angels in a Quire,
Whom Love and Reverence inspire,
In a full Anthem Albion's Paises sing.

FINIS.