Poetical recreations consisting of original poems, songs, odes, &c. with several new translations : in two parts / part I, occasionally written by Mrs. Jane Barker, part II, by several gentlemen of the universities, and others.

A PANEGYRICK On His Present Majesty IAMES the SECOND: Occasionally Written since His late Victories ob∣tained over the Scotch and Western Rebels.

WHilst with a strong, yet with a gentle hand, You bridle Faction, & our Hearts command; Protect us from our selves, and from the Foe; Make us Unite, and make us Conquer too. Let partial Spirits still aloud complain, Think themselves injur'd, 'cause they cannot reign; And own no liberty, but whilst they may, Without controul, upon their Fellows prey. Above the Waves, as Neptune shew'd his Face, To chide the Winds, and save the Trojan Race: So has your Majesty (rais'd above the rest) Storms of Ambition tossing us represt:

Your drooping Country torn with Civil hate, Preserv'd by you remains a Glorious State. 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 can go. Heav'n, that has plac'd this Island to give Law To ballance Europe, and her States to awe: In this Conjunction do's o'er Brittain smile, The greatest Monarch, and the greatest Isle. Whether the portion of this World were rent By the rude Ocean from the Continent: Or thus Created, it was sure design'd To be the sacred refuge of Mankind. Hither th' Oppressed shall henceforth resort, Iustice to crave, and Succour from your Court. And then, Great Prince, you not for ours alone, But for the VVorld's Defender shall be known. Fame, swifter than your Winged Navy, flyes Through ev'ry Land that near the Ocean lyes; Sounding your Name, and telling dreadfull News To all that Piracy and Rapine use.

With such a King the meanest Nation blest, Might hope to lift her head above the rest. What may be thought impossible to doe, For us embraced by the Sea and You; Lords of the Worlds vast Ocean, happy We, Whole Forrests send to reign upon the Sea: And ev'ry Coast may trouble or relieve, But none can visit us without our leave. Angels and we have this Prerogative, That none can at our happy Seat arrive: Whilst We descend at pleasure to invade, The Bad with Vengeance, and the Good with Aid. Our Little World, the Image of the Great, Like that about the Boundless Ocean set: Of her own Growth, has all that Nature craves; And all that's rare, as Tribute from her Slav••s. As Egypt do's not on her Clouds rely, But to her Nile owes more than to the Sky. So what our Earth, and what our Heav'n denies, Our ever constant friend the Sea supplies. "The tast of hot Arabia Spice we know, "Free from the scorching Sun that makes it grow.

"Without the Worm in Persian Silk we shine, "And without Planting drink of ev'ry Vine. "To dig for Wealth, we weary not our limbs; "Gold, though the heaviest Metal, hither swims: "Ours is the heaviest where the Indians mow; "We plough the deep, and reap what others sow. Things of the noblest kind our own Sail breeds; Stout are our Men, and war-like are our Steeds. Here the Third Edward, and the Black Prince too, France conquering, did flourish, & now you, Whose conqu'ring Arms whole Nations might sub∣due; Whilst by your Valour, and your Courteous Mind, Nations, divided by the Seas, are joyn'd. Holland, to gain your Friendship, is content To be your safe-guard on the Continent: She from her Fellow Provinces will go, Rather than hazard to have You her Foe. In our late Fight, when Cannons did diffuse Preventing Posts, the terrour and the news; Our Neighb'ring Princes trembled at the roar, But our Conjunction makes them tremble more. Your Army's Loyal Swords made War to cease, And now you heal us with the Acts of Peace.

Less pleasure take, brave Minds, in Battles won, Than in restoring such as are undone. Tygers have courage, and the Ragged Bear; But Man alone can, whom he conquers, spare. To pardon willing, and to punish loth; You strike with one hand, but you heal with both. As the vex't World, to find repose at last, It self into Augustus Arms did cast: So England now doth, with like toil oppress'd, Her weary Head into your Bosom rest. Then let the Muses with such Notes as these, Instruct us what belongs unto our Peace. Your Battles they hereafter shall indite, And draw the Image of our Mars in fight. Illustrious Acts high raptures do infuse, And ev'ry Conquerour creates a Muse. Here in low strains thy milder deeds we sing, And then, Great Prince, we'll Bays and Olive bring, To Crown your Head, while you Triumphant ride O'er vanquish'd Nations, and the Sea bestride; While all the Neighbouring Princes unto you, Like Ioseph's slaves, pay reverence and bow.