Annus mirabilis, The year of wonders, 1666 an historical poem containing the progress and various successes of our naval war with Holland, under the conduct of His Highness Prince Rupert, and His Grace the Duke of Albemarl : and describing the fire of London / by John Dryden, Esq.

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M^r Iohn Dryden

ANNVS MIRABILIS: The Year of WONDERS, 1666.

AN HISTORICAL POEM: CONTAINING The Progress and various Successes of our Naval War with Holland, under the Conduct of His Highness Prince RUPERT, and His Grace the Duke of ALBEMAR••.

And describing THE FIRE OF LONDON.

By JOHN DRYDEN, Esq

〈…〉〈…〉, an homines latius impera•••• 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Trajan. Imperator. ad Pl••n.

〈1 line〉〈1 line〉 V••rg

London, Printed for Henry Herringman, at the An∣chor in the Lower Walk of the N•••• Exchange. 1667.

TO THE METROPOLIS OF GREAT BRITAIN, The most Renowned and late Flourishing CITY of LONDON, I•• its REPRESENTATIVES The LORD MAYOR and Court of ALDERMEN, the SHERIFS and COMMON COUNCIL of it.

AS perhaps I am the first who ever presented a work of this nature to the Metropolis of any Nation, so is it likewise consonant to Ju∣stice, that he who was to give the first Example of such a Dedication should begin it

with that City, which has set a pattern to all others of true Loyalty, invincible Courage and unshaken Constancy. Other Cities have been prais'd for the same Virtues, but I am much deceiv'd if any have so dearly purchas'd their reputation; their fame has been won them by cheap∣er trials then an expensive, though necessary, War, a con∣suming Pestilence, and a more consuming Fire. To submit your selves with that humili∣ty to the Judgments of Hea∣ven, and at the same time to raise your selves with that

vigour above all humane Ene∣mies; to be combated at once from above and from below, to be struck down and to tri∣umph; I know not whether such trials have been ever pa∣rallel'd in any Nation, the re∣solution and successes of them never can be. Never had Prince or People more mutu∣al reason to love each other, if suffering for each other can indear affection. You have come together a pair of match∣less Lovers, through many difficulties; He, through a long Exile, various traverses of Fortune, and the interposition

of many Rivals, who violent∣ly ravish'd and with-held You from Him: And certain∣ly you have had your share in sufferings. But Provi∣dence has cast upon you want of Trade, that you might appear bountiful to your Country's necessities; and the rest of your afflictions are not more the effects of God's displeasure, (frequent exam∣ples of them having been in the Reign of the most excel∣lent Princes) then occasions for the manifesting of your Christian and Civil virtues. To you therefore this Year of

Wonders is justly dedicated, because you have made it so. You who are to stand a won∣der to all Years and Ages, and who have built your selves an immortal Monument on your own ruines. You are now a Phoenix in her ashes, and, as far as Humanity can approach, a great Emblem of the suffering Deity. But Heaven never made so much Piety and Vertue to leave it miserable. I have heard indeed of some vertuous persons who have ended un∣fortunately, but never of any vertuous Nation: Providence is engag'd too deeply, when

the cause becomes so general. And I cannot imagine it has resolv'd the ruine of that peo∣ple at home, which it has bles∣sed abroad with such successes. I am therefore to conclude, that your sufferings are at an end; and that one part of my Poem has not been more an History of your destruction, then the other a Prophecy of your restoration. The accom∣plishment of which happiness, as it is the wish of all true English-men, so is by none more passionately desired then by

The greatest of your Admirers, and most humble of your Servants, JOHN DRYDEN.

An account of the ensuing Poem, in a LETTER to th•• Honorable, Sir ROBERT HOVVARD.

SIR,

I Am so many ways oblig'd to you, and so little able to return your favours, that, like those who owe too much, I can onely live by getting farther into your debt. You have not onely been careful of my Fortune, which was the effect of your Nobleness, but you have been sollicitous of my Reputation, which is that of your Kindnes••. It is not long since I gave you the trouble of perusing a Play for me, and now, in∣stead of an acknowl••dgment, I have given you a greater, in the correction of a Poem. But since you are to bear this persecution, I will at least give you the encourage∣ment of a Martyr, you could never suffer in a nobler cause. For I have chosen the most heroick Subject which any Poet could desire: I have t••ken upon me to d••scribe the motives, the beginning, progr••ss and suc∣cesses of a most just and necess••ry War; in it, the care, management and prudence of our King; the conduct and valour of a Royal Admiral, and of two incom∣parable Generals; the invincible courage of our Cap∣tains and Sea men, and three glorious Victories, the result of all. After this I have, in the Fire, the most deplorable, but withall the greatest Argument that can be imagin'd: the destructio•• being so swift, so sud∣den, to vast and miserable, as nothing can parallel in Story. The former part of this Poem, relating to the War, is but a due expiation for my not serving my King and Country in it. All Gentlemen are almost

oblig'd to it: And I know no reason we should give that advantage to the Commonalty of England to be for most in brave actions, which the Noblesse of France would never suffer in their Peasants. I should not have written this but to a Person, who has been ever forward to appear in all employments, whither his Ho∣nour and Generosity have call'd him. The latter part of my Poem, which describes the Fire, I owe first to the Piety and Fatherly Affection of our Monarch to his suffering Subjects; an••, in the second place, to the courage, loyalty and magnanimity of the City: both which were so conspicuous, that I have wanted words to celebrate them as they deserve. I have call'd my Poem Historical, not Epick, though both the Actions and Actors are as much Heroick, as any Poem can contain. But since the Action is not properly one, nor that accomplish'd in the last successes, I have judg'd it too bold a Title for a few Stanza's, which are little more in number then a single Iliad, or the longest of the Aen••ids. For this reason, (I mean not of length, but broken action, ti'd too severely to the Laws of History) I am apt to agree with those who rank Lucan rather among Historians in Verse, then Epique Poets: In whose room, if I am not deceiv'd, Silius Italicus, though a worse Writer, may more justly be admitted. I have chosen to write my Poem in Quatrains or Stan∣za's of four in alternate rhyme, because I have ever judg'd them more noble, and of greater dignity, both fro the sound and number, then any other Verse in use amongst us; in which I am sure I have your approba∣tion.

The learned Languages have, certainly, a great advantage of us, in not being tied to the slavery of any Rhyme; and were less constrain'd in the quantity of every syllable, which they might vary with Spondaees or Dactiles, besides so many other helps of Grammati∣cal Figures, for the lengthning or abbreviation of them, then the Modern are in the close of that one Syl∣lable, which often confines, and more often corrup••s the sense of all the rest. But in this necessity of our Rhymes, I have always found the couplet Verse most easie, (though not so proper for this occasion) for there the work is sooner at an end, every two lines concluding the labour of the Poet: but in Quattrains he is to carry it farther on; and not onely so, but to bear along in his head the troublesome sense of four lines together. For those who write correctly in this kind must needs ac∣knowledge, that the last line of the Stanza is to be consider'd in the composition of the first. Neither can we give our s••lves the liberty of making any part of a Verse for the sake of Rhyme, or concluding with a word which is not currant English, or using the variety of Female Rhymes, all which our Fathers practis'd; and for the Female Rhymes, they are still in use amongst other Nations: with the Italian in every line, with the Spaniard promiscuously, with the French alternately, as those who have read the Alarique, the Pucelle, or any of their latter Poems, will agree with me. And be∣sides this, they write in Alexandrins, or Verses of six feet, such as amongst us is the old Translation of Ho∣mer, by Chapman; all which, by lengthning of their

Chain, makes the sphere of their activity the larger. I have dwelt too long upon the choice of my Stanza, which you may remember is much better defended in the Preface to Gondibert, and therefore I will hasten to acquaint you with my endeavours in the writing. In general I will onely say, I have never yet seen the description of any Naval Fight in the proper terms which are us'd at Sea; and if there be any such in an∣other Language, as that of Lucan in the third of his Pharsalia, yet I could not prevail my self of it in the English; the terms of Arts in every ••ongue bearing more of the Idiom of it then any other words. We hear, indeed, among our Poets, of the thundring of Guns, the smoke, the disorder and the slaughter; but all these are common notions. And certainly as those who, in a Logical dispute, keep in general terms, would hide a fallacy, so those who do it in any Poetical description would vail their ignorance.

Descriptas servare vices operumque colores Cur ego, si nequeo ignoroque, poeta salutor?

For my own part, if I had little knowledge of the Sea, yet I have thought it no shame to learn: and if I have made some few mistakes, 'tis onely, as you can bear me witness, because I have wanted opportunity to correct them, the whole Poem being first written, and now sent you from a place, where I have not so much as the converse of any Sea-man. Yet, though the trouble I had in writing it was great, it was more then recom∣pens'd by the pleasure; I found my self so warm in ce∣lebrating the praises of military men, two such espe∣••ially

as the Prince and General, that it is no wonder ••f they inspir'd me with thoughts above my ordinary ••evel. And I am well satisfi'd, that as they are incom∣••arably the best subject I have ever had, excepting ••nely the Royal Family; so also, that this I have written of them is much better then what I have per∣form'd on any other. I have been forc'd to help out other Arguments, but this has been bountiful to me; ••hey have been low and barren of praise, and I have ex∣••alted them, and made them fruitful: but here— Omnia Sponte suâ reddit justissima tellus. I have had a large, a fair and a pleasant field, so fertile, that, without my cultivating, it has given me two Harvests in a S••mmer, and in both oppress'd the Reaper. All other greatness in subjects is onely counterfeit, it will not endure the test of danger; the greatness of Arms is onely real: other greatness burdens a Nation with 〈◊〉〈◊〉 weight, this supports it with its strength. And as it is the happiness of the Age, so is it the peculiar good∣ness of the best of Kings, that we may praise his Sub∣jects without offending him: doubtless it proceeds from a just confidence of his own vertue, which the lustre of no other can be so great as to darken in him: for the Good or the Valiant are never safely prais'd under a ••ad or a degenerate Prince. But to retu••n from this digression to a farther account of my Poem, I must crave leave to tell you, that as I have endeavour'd to adorn it with noble thoughts, so much more to express those thoughts with elocution. The composition of all Poems is or ought to be of wit, and wit in the Poet, or

wit writing, (if you will give me leave to use a Schoo•• distinction) is no other then the faculty of imaginatio•• in the writer, which, like a nimble Spaniel, beats ove•• and ranges through the field of Memory, till i•• springs the Quarry it hunted after; or, without meta∣phor, which searches over all the memory for the species or Idea's of those things which it designs to represent▪ Wit written, is that which is well defin'd, the happy result of thought, or product of that imagination. But to proceed from wit in the general notion of it, to the proper wit of an Heroick or Historical Poem, I judge it chiefly to consist in the delightful imaging of per∣sons, actions, p••ssions, or things. 'Tis not the jerk o•• sting of an Epigram, nor the seeming contradiction of a poor Antithesis, (the delight of an ill judging Au∣dience in a Play of Rhyme) nor the gingle of a more poor Paranomasia: neither is it so much the morality of a grave sentence, affected by Lucan, but more spar∣ingly used by Virgil; but it is some lively and apt de∣scription, dress'd in such colours of speech, that it sets before your eyes the absent object, as perfectly and more delightfully then nature. So then, the first happiness of the Poet's imagination is properly Invention, or finding of the thought; the second is Fancy, or the va∣riation, driving or moulding of that thought, as the judgment represents it proper to the subject; the third is Elocution, or the Art of clothing and adorning that thought so found and varied, in apt, significant and sounding words: the quickness of the Imagination is seen in the Invention, the fertility in the Fancy, and

the accuracy in the Expression. For the two first of these Ovid is famous amongst the Poets, for the latter Virgil. Ovid images more often the movements and affections of the mind, either combating between two contrary passions, or extremely discompos'd by one: his words therefore are the least part of his care, for he pictures Nature in disorder, with which the study and choice of words is inconsistent. This is the proper wit of Dialogue or Discourse, and, consequently, of the Drama, where all that is said is to be suppos'd the effect of sudden thought; which, though it ex∣cludes not the quickness of wit in repartees, yet ad∣mits not a too curious election of words, too frequent allusions, or use of Tropes, or, in fine, any thing that showes remoteness of thought, or labour in the Writer. On the other side, Virgil speaks not so often to us in the person of another, like Ovid, but in his own, he re∣lates almost all things as from himself, and thereby gains more liberty then the other, to express his thoughts with all the graces of elocution, to write more figuratively, and to confess, as well the labour as the force of his imagination. Though he describes his Dido well and naturally, in the violence of her pas∣sions, yet he must yield in that to the Myrrha, the Bi∣blis, the Althaea, of Ovid; for, as great an admirer of him as I am, I must acknowledge, that, if I see not more of their Souls then I see of Dido's, at least I have a greater concernment for them: and that con∣vinces me that Ovid has touch'd those tender strokes more delica••ely then Virgil could. But when Action

or Persons are to be describ'd, when any such Image is to beset before u••, how bold, how maste••ly are the strokes of Virgil! we see the objects he represents us with in their native figures, in their proper motion••; but we so see them, as our own eyes could never have beheld them so beautiful in themselves. We see the Soul of the Poet, like that universal one of which he speaks, informing and moving through all his ••i∣ctures, Totamque in••usa per artus mens agitat mo∣tem, & magno se corpore miscet; we behold him embellishing his Images, as he makes Venus breath∣ing beauty upon her son. Aeneas.

—lumenque juventae Purpureum, & laetos oculis afflârat honores: Quale manus addunt Ebori decus, aut ubi flavo Argentum, pariusve lapis circundatur auro.

See his ••empest, his Funeral ••ports, his Combat of Turnus and Aeneas, and in his Georgicks, which I esteem the Divinest part of all this writings, the Plague, the Country, the Battle of Bulls, the labour of the Bees, and those many other excellent Images of Nature, most of which are neither great in them∣selves, nor have any natural ornament to bear them•• up: but the words wherewith he describes them are so excellent, that it might be well appli'd to him which was said by Ovid, Materiam superabat•• opus: the very sound of his words has often somewhat that i•• connatural to the subject, and while we read him, we sit, as in a ••lay, beholding the Scenes of what he repre∣sents. To perform this, he made frequent use of Tropes

which you know change the nature of a known word, by applying it to some other signification: and this is it which Horace means in this Epistle to the Pisos.

Dixeris egregie notum si callida verbum Reddiderit junctura novum—

But I am sensible I have presum'd too far, to enter∣tain you with a rude discourse of that Art, which you both know so well, and put into practise with so much happiness. Yet before I leave Virgil, I must own the vanity to tell you, and by you the world, that he has been my Master in this Poem: I have followed him every where, I know not with what success, but I am sure with diligence enough: my Images are many of them copied from him, and the rest are imitations of him. My expressions also are as near as the Idioms of the two Languages would admit of in translation. And this, Sir, I have done with that boldness, for which I will stand accomptable to any of our little Cri∣ticks, who, perhaps, are not better acquainted with him then I am. Upon your first perusal of this Poem, you have taken notice of some words which I have in∣novated (if it be too bold for me to say re••in'd) upon his Latin; which, as I offer not to introduce into Eng∣lish prose, so I hope they are neither improper, nor al∣together unelegant in Verse; and, in this, Horace will again defend me.

Et nova, ••fictaque nuper habebunt verba fidem, si Graeco fonte cadant, parcè detorta—

The inference is exceeding plain; for if a Roman Poet might have liberty to coin a word, supposing onely that

it was derived from the Greek, we put into a Latin termination, and that he us'd this liberty but seldom, and with modesty: How much more justly may I chal∣lenge that privilege to do it with the same praerequi∣sits, from the best and most judicious of Latin Writers? In some places, where either the fancy, or the words, were his, or any others, I have noted it in the Margin, that I might not seem a Plagiary: in others I have neglected it, to avoid as well the tediousness, as the af∣fectation of doing it t••o often. Such descriptions or images, well wrought, which I promise no•• for mine, are, as I have said, the adequate delight of heroick Poesie, for they beget admiration, which is its proper object; as the images of the Burlesque, which is contra∣ry to this, by the same reason beget laughter; for the one shows Nature beautified, as in the picture of a fair Woman, which we all admire; the other shows her de∣formed, as in that of a Lazar, or of a fool with di∣storted face and antique gestures, at which we cannot forbear to laugh, because it is a deviation from Na∣ture. But though the same images serve equally for the Epique Poesie, and for the Historique and Pane∣gyrique, which are branches of it, yet a several sort of Sculpture is to be used in them: if some of them are to be like those of Juvenal, Stantes in curribus Aemiliani, Heroes drawn in their triumphal Chariots, and in their full proportion; others are to be like that of Virgil, Spi••antia mollius aera: there is somewhat more of s••ftness and tenderness to be shown in them. You will soon find I write not this without concern.

Some who have seen a paper of Verses which I wrote last year to her Highness the Dutchess, have accus'd them of that onely thing I could defend in them; they have said I did humi serpere, that I wa••ted not onely height of fancy, but dignity of words to set it off; I might well answer with that of Horace, Nunc non erat his locus, I knew I address'd them to a Lady, and accordingly I affected the softness of expression, and the smoothness of measure, rather then the height of thought; and in what I did endeavour, it is no va∣nity to say, I have succeeded, I detest arrogance, but there is some difference betwixt that and a just defence. But I will not farther bribe your candour, or the Rea∣ders. I leave them to speak for me, and, if they can, to make out that character, not pretending to a greater, which I have given them.

Verses to her Highness the DUTCHESS, on the memorable Victory gain'd by the DUKE against the Hollanders, June the 3. 1665. and on Her Iourney after∣wards into the North.

MADAM,

WHen, for our ••akes, your Heroe you resign'd To swelling Seas, and every faithless wind; When you releas'd his courage, and set free A valour fatal to the Enemy,

You lodg'd your Countries carès within your breast; (The mansion where soft Love should onely rest:) And ere our foes abroad were overcome, The noblest conquest you had gain'd at home. Ah, what concerns did both your Souls divide! Your Honour gave us what your Love deni'd: And 'twas for him much easier to subdue Those foes he fought with, then to part from you. That glorious day, which two such Navies saw, As each, unmatch'd, might to the world give Law. Neptune, yet doubtful whom he should obey, Held to them both the Trident of the Sea: The winds were hush'd, the waves in ranks were cast, As awfully as when God's people past: Those, yet uncertain on whose sails to blow, These, where the wealth of Nations ought to flow. Then with the Duke your Highness rul'd the day: While all the brave did his command obey. The fair and pious under you did pray. How pow'rful are chast vows! the wind and tyde You brib'd to combat on the English side. Thus to your much lov'd Lord you did convey An unknown succour, sent the nearest way. New vigour to his wearied arms you brought; (So Moses was upheld while Israel fought.) While, from afar, we heard the Canon play, Like distant Thunder on a shiny day, For absent friends we were asham'd to fear, When we consider'd what you ventur'd there.

Ships, Men and Arms our Country might restore, But such a Leader could supply no more. With generous thoughts of conquest he did burn, Yet fought not more to vanquish then return. Fortune and victory he did pursue, To bring them, as his Slaves, to wait on you. Thus Beauty ravish'd the rewards of Fame, And the Fair triumph'd when the Brave o'rcame. Then, as you meant to spread another way By Land your Conquests far as his by Sea, Leaving our Southern Clime, you march'd along The stubborn North, ten thousand Cupid's strong. Like Commons the Nobility resort In crowding heaps, to fill your moving Court: To welcome your approach the Vulgar run, Like some new Envoy•• from the distant Sun. And Country Beauties by their Lovers go, Blessing themselves, and wondring at the show. So when the new-born Phoenix first is seen, Her feather'd Subjects all adore their Queen. And, while she makes her progress through the East, From every grove her numerous train's increast: Each Poet of the air her glory sings, And round him the pleas'd Audience clap their wings.

And now, Sir, 'tis time I should relieve you from the tedious length of this account. You have better and more profitable employment for your hours, and I wrong the Publick to de••ain you longer. In conclusio••,

I must leave my Poem to you with all its faults, which hope to find fewer in the printing by your emendations I know you are not of the number of those, of whom th•• younger Pliny speaks, Nec sunt parum multi qu•• carpere amicos suos judicium vocant; I am rathe•• too secure of you on that side. Your candour in pardon∣ing my errors may make you more remiss in correctin•• them; if you will not withall consider that they come int•• the world with your approbation, and through you•• hands. I beg from you the greatest favor you can con••e•••• upon an absent person, since I repose upon your manage∣ment what is dearest to me, my Fame and Reputation & therefore I hope it will stir you up to make my Poem fairer by many of your blots; if not, you know the stor•• of the Gamester who married the rich man's daughter•• and when her father denyed the portion, christned 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the children by his sirname, that if, in conclusion, the must beg, they should do so by one name, as well as 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the other. But since the reproach of my faults wi•••• light on you, 'tis but reason I should do you that justic•• to the Readers, to let them know that if there be an•• thing tolerable in this Poem, they owe the Argumen•• to your choice, the writing to your encouragement, th•• correction to your judgment, and the care of it to you•• friendship, to which he must ever acknowledge himsel•• to owe all things, who is,

SIR,

The most obedient and most faithful of your Servants,

IOHN DRYDEN.

From Charleton in Wiltshire, Novem. 10. 1666.

To the Readers.

NOtwithstanding the diligence which has been used in my ab∣sence, some faults have escap'd the Pr••ss: and I have so many 〈◊〉〈◊〉 my own to answ•••• for, that I am not willing to be charg'd with those ••f the 〈◊〉〈◊〉. I have onely noted the grossest of them, not such as by 〈…〉〈…〉 have consou••ded the se••se, but such as by mistaken wo••ds ••ave corrupted it.

ERRATA.

PAge 4. line 3. for an read 〈◊〉〈◊〉 page 5. in the Not••s, read thus, ponti armenta & mag••as pascit, &c. page 8. line 2. for under∣••ook▪ read 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ page 10. in the 〈◊〉〈◊〉, for nau••••agiunt est read 〈…〉〈…〉 page 15. line 3. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 read a loud. ibid. line 10. ••or in distant order read in dreadful ••••der. page 33. line 3. for own ••ead one. ibid. line 16. read, and as the Surgeons. page 41. in the ••ote to the second S••anza, for 〈◊〉〈◊〉 vicis, read solisque vias. page 47. line 3. for flots read flats. page 49. line 15. for Verro read Va••ro. page 53. line 5. for smiles read smile. ibid. line 11. for falling 〈◊〉〈◊〉 p••••ling. ibid. line 7. for open read tender. ibid. in the note, for ac••ru∣de••et read accenderet. page 63 line 2. for night has read night-••ags.

Imprimatur.

Roger L'Estrange

Novem. 22. 1666.

ANNVS MIRABILIS: The YEAR of WONDERS, MDCLXVI.

1.

IN thriving Arts long time had Holland grown, Crouching at home, and cruel when abroad: Scarce leaving us the means to claim our own. Our King they courted, & our Merchants aw'd.

2.

Trade, which like bloud should circularly flow, Stop'd in their Channels, found its freedom lost: Thither the wealth of all the world did go, And seem'd but shipwrack'd on so base a Coast.

3.

For them alone the Heav'ns had kindly heat, a 10.1 In Ea••tern Quarries ripening precious Dew: For them the Idumaean Balm did sweat, A••d in hot Ceilon Spicy Forrests grew.

4.

The Sun but seem'd the Lab'rer of their Year; b 10.2 Each wexing Moon suppli'd her watry store, To swell those Tides, which from the Line did bear Their brim-full Vessels to the Belg'an shore.

5.

Thus mighty in her Ships, stood Carthage long, And swept the riches of the world from far; Yet stoop'd to Rome, less wealthy, but more strong: And this may prove our second Punick War.

6.

What peace can be where both to one pretend? (But they more diligent, and we more strong) Or if a peace, it soon must have an end For they would grow too pow'rful were it long.

7.

Behold two Nations then, ingag'd so far, That each seav'n years the fit must shake each Land Where France will side to weaken us by War, Who onely can his vast designs withstand.

8.

See how he feeds th'c 10.3 Iberian with delays, To render us his timely friendship vain; And, while his secret Soul on Flanders preys, He rocks the Cradle of the Babe of Spain.

9.

Such deep designs of Empire does he lay, O're them whose cause he seems to take in hand. And, prudently, would make them Lords at Sea, To whom with ease he can give Laws by Land.

10.

This saw our King; and long within his breast His pensive counsels ballanc'd too and fro; He griev'd the Land he freed should be oppress'd, And he less for it then Usurpers do.

11.

His gen'rous mind the fair Idea's drew Of Fame and Honour which in dangers lay; Where wealth, like fruit an precipices, grew, Not to be gather'd but by Birds of prey.

12.

The loss and gain each fatally were great; And still his Subjects call'd aloud for war: But peaceful Kings o'r martial people set, Each others poize and counter-ballance are.

13.

He, first, survey'd the charge with careful eyes, Which none but mighty Monarchs could main∣tain; Yet judg'd, like vapours that from Limbecks rise, It would in richer showers descend again.

14.

At length resolv'd t'assert the watry Ball, He in himself did whole Armado's bring: Him, aged Sea-men might their Master call, And choose for General were he not their King.

15.

It seems as every Ship their Sovereign knows, His awful summons they so soon obey; So here the skaly Herd whend 10.4 Proteus blows, And so to pasture follow through the Sea.

16.

To see this Fleet upon the Ocean move Angels drew wide the Curtains of the skies: And Heav'n, as if their wanted Lights above, For Tapers made two glareing Comets rise.

17.

Whether they unctuous Exhalations are, Fir'd by the Sun, or seeming so alone, Or each some more remote and slippery Star, Which looses footing when to Mortals shown.

18.

Or one that bright companion of the Sun, Whose glorious aspect seal'd our new-born King; And now a round of greater years begun, New influence from his walks of light did bring.

19.

Victorious York did, first, with fam'd success, To his known valour make the Dutch give place: Thus Heav'n our Monarch's fortune did confess, Beginning conquest from his Royal Race.

20.

But since it was decreed, Auspicious King, In Britain's right that thou should'st wed the Main, Heav'n, as a gage, would cast some precious thing And therefore doom'd that Lawson should be slain.

21.

Lawson amongst the formost met his fate, Whom Sea-green Syrens from the Rocks lament: Thus as an off'ring for the Grecian State, He first was kill'd who first to Battel went.

22.

* 10.5 Their Chief blown up, in air, not waves expir'd, To which his pride presum'd to give the Law: The Dutch confess'd Heav'n present, and retir'd, And all was Britain the wide Ocean saw.

23.

To nearest Ports their shatter'd Ships repair, Where by our dreadful Canon they lay aw'd: So reverently men quit the open air When thunder speaks the angry Gods abroad.

24.

And now approach'd their Fleet from India, fraught With all the riches of the rising Sun: And precious Sand frome 10.6 Southern Climates brought, (The fatal Regions where the War begun.)* 10.7

25.

Like hunted Castors, conscious of their store, Their way-laid wealth to Norway's coasts they bring: There first the North's cold bosome Spices bore, And Winter brooded on the Eastern Spring.

26.

By the rich scent we found our perfum'd prey, Which flanck'd with Rocks did close in covert lie: And round about their murdering Canon lay, At once to threaten and invi••e the eye.

27.

Fie••cer then Canon, and then Rocks more hard, The English undertook th'unequal War: Seven Ships alone, by which the Port is barr••d, Besiege the Indies, and all Denmark dare.

28.

These fight like Husbands, but like Lovers those: These fain would keep, and those more fain enjoy▪ And to such height their frantick passion grows, That what both love, both hazard to destroy.

29.

Amidst whole heaps of Spices lights a Ball, And now their Odours arm'd against them flie: Some preciously by shatter'd Porc'lain fall, And some by Aromatick splinters die.

30.

An though by Tempests of the prize bere••t, In Heavens inclemency some ease we find: Our foes we vanquish'd by our valour left, And onely yielded to the Seas and Wind.

31.

Nor wholly lost we so deserv'd a prey; For storms, repenting, part of it restor'd: Which, as a tribute from the Balthick Sea, The British Ocean sent her mighty Lord.

32.

Go, Mortals, now, and vex your selves in vain For wealth, which so uncertainly must come: When what was brought so far, and with such pain, Was onely kept to lose it neerer home.

33.

The Son, who, twice three month's on th' Ocean tost, Prepar'd to tell what he had pass'd before, Now sees, in English Ships the Holland Coast, And Parents arms in vain stretch'd from the shore.

34.

This carefull Husband had been long away, Whom his chast wife and little children mourn; Who on their fingers learn'd to tell the day On which their Father promis'd to return.

35.

f 10.8 Such are the proud designs of human kind, And so we suffer Shipwrack every where! Alas, what Port can such a Pilot find, Who in the night of Fate must blindly steer!

36.

The undistinguish'd seeds of good and ill Heav'n, in his bosom, from our knowledge hides; And draws them in contempt of human skill, Which oft, for friends, mistaken foes provides.

37.

Let Munsters Prelate ever be accurst, In whom we seek theg 10.9 German faith in vain: Alas, that he should teach the English first That fraud and avarice in the Church could reign!

38.

Happy who never trust a Strangers will, Whose friendship's in his interest understood! Since money giv'n but tempts him to be ill When pow'r is too remote to make him good.

39.

••ill now, alone the Mighty Nations strove: The rest, at gaze, without the Lists did stand: ••nd threatning France, plac'd like a painted ••ove, Kept idle thunder in his lifted hand.* 10.10

40.

That Eunuch Guardian of rich Holl•••••• trade, Who envies us what he wants 〈◊〉〈◊〉 enjoy! Whose noisefull valour does no foe invade, And weak assistance will his friends destroy.

41.

Offended that we fought without hi•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉, He takes this time his secret ha••e to show: Which Charles does with a mind so calm receive▪ As one that neither seeks, nor 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his foe.

42.

With France, to aid the Dutch, the Danes unite: France as their Tyrant, Denmark as their Slave. But when with one three Nations joyn to fight, They silently confess that one more brave.

43.

Lewis had chas'd the English from his shore; But Charles the French as Subjects does invite. VVould Heav'n for each some Salomon restore, VVho, by their mercy, may decide their right

44.

VVere Subjects so but onely buy their choice, And not from Birth did forc'd Dominion take, Our Prince alone would have the publique voice▪ And all his Neighbours Realms would desarts make.

45.

He without fear a dangerous VVar pursues, VVhich without rashness he began before. As Honour made him first the danger choose, So still he makes it good on virtues score.

46.

The doubled charge his Subjects love supplies, VVho, in that bounty, to themselves are kind: So glad Egyptians see their Nilus rise, And in his plenty their abundance find.

47.

With equal pow'r he does two Chiefs create, Two such, as each seem'd worthiest when alone: ••ach able to sustain a Nations fate, Since both had found a greater in their own.* 10.11

48.

••oth great in courage, Conduct and in Fame, Yet neither envious of the others praise. Their duty, faith, and int'rest too the same. ••ike mighty Partners equally they raise.

49.

The Prince long time had courted Fortune's love, But once possess'd did absolutely reign; ••hus with their Amazons the Heroes strove, And conquer'd first those Beauties they would gain.

50.

••he Duke, beheld, like Scipio, with disdain That Carthage, which he ruin'd, rise once more: And shook aloft the Fasces of the Main, To fright those Slaves with what they felt be∣fore.

51.

Together to the watry Camp they haste, Whom Matrons passing, to their children sho•• Infants first vows for them to Heav'n are cast, Andh 10.12 future people bless them as they go.

52.

With them no riotous pomp, nor As••an train, T' infect a Navy with their gawdy fears: To make flow fights, and victories but vain; But war; severely, like it self, appears.

53.

Diffusive of themselves, where e'r they pass, They make that warmth in others they expect Their valour works like bodies on a glass, And does its Image on their men project.

54.

Our Fleet divides, and straight the Dutch appea•• In number, and a fam'd Commander, bold: The Narrow Seas can scarce their Navy bear, Or crowded Vessels can their Soldiers hold.* 10.13

55.

The Duke, less numerous, but in courage more, On wings of all the winds to combat flies: His murdering Guns aloud defiance roar, And bloudy Crosses on his Flag-staffs rise.

56.

Both furl their sails, and strip them for the fight, Their folded sheets dismiss the useless air: i 10.14 Th' Elean Plains could boast no nobler sight, When strugling Champions did their bodies bare.

57.

Born each by other in a distant Line, The Sea-built Forts in distant order move: So vast the noise, as if not Fleets did joyn, k 10.15 But Lands unfix'd, and floating Nations, strove.

58.

Now pass'd, on either side they nimbly tack, Both strive to intercept and guide the wind: And, in its eye, more closely they come back To finish all the deaths they left behind.

59.

On high-rais'd Decks the haughty Belgians ride, Beneath whose shade our humble Fregats go: Such port the Elephant bears, and so defi'd By the Rhinocero's her unequal foe.

60.

And as the built, so different is the fight; Their mounting shot is on our sails design'd: Deep in their hulls our deadly bullets light, And through the yielding planks a passage find▪

61.

Our dreaded Admiral from far they threat, Whose batter'd rigging their whole wa•• receives▪ All bare, like some old Oak which tempests beat, He stands, and sees below his scatter'd leaves.

62.

Heroes of old, when wounded, shelter sought, But he, who meets all danger with disdain, Ev'n in their face his ship to Anchor brought, And Steeple high stood propt upon the Main.

63.

At this excess of courage, all amaz'd, The foremost of his foes a while withdraw. With such respect in enter'd Rome they gaz'd, Who on high Chairs the God-like Fathers saw.

64.

And now, as where Patroclus body lay, Here ••rojan Chiefs advanc'd, & there the Greek: Ours o••r the Duke their pious wings display, And theirs the noblest spoils of Britain seek.

65.

Mean time, his busie Marriners he hasts; His shatter'd sails with rigging to restore: And willing Pines ascend his broken Masts, Whose lofty heads rise higher then before.

66.

Straight to the Dutch he turns his dreadful prow, More fierce th'important quarrel to decide. Like Swans, in long array his Vessels show, Whose creasts, advancing, do the waves divide.

67.

They charge, re-charge, and all along the Sea They drive, and squander the huge ••elgian Fleet. Berkley alone who neerest Danger lay, Did a like fate with lost Creusa meet.

68.

The night comes on, we, eager to pursue The Combat stil, and they asham'd to leave: Till the last streaks of dying day withdrew, And doubtful Moon-light did our rage deceive.

69.

In th'English Fleet each ship resounds with joy, And loud applause of their great Lead'rs fame. In fiery dreams the Dutch they still destroy, And, slumbring, smile at the imagin'd flame.

70.

Not so the Holland Fleet, who tir'd and done, Stretch'd on their decks like weary Oxen lie: Faint swea••s all down their mighty members run, (Vast bulks which little souls but ill supply.)

71.

In dreams they fearful precipices tread, Or, shipwrack'd, labour to some distant shore: Or in dark Churches walk among the dead: They wake with horrour, & dare sleep no more.

72.

The morn they look on with unwilling eyes, Till, from their Main-top, joyful news they hear Of ships, which by their mould bring new supplies, And in their colours Belgian Lions bear.* 10.16

73.

Our watchful General had discern'd, from far, This mighty succour which made glad the foe. He sigh'd, but, like a Father of the War, l 10.17 His face spake hope, while deep his sorrows flow.

74.

His wounded men he first sends off to shore: (Never, till now, unwilling to obey.) They, not their wounds but want of strength deplore, And think them happy who with him can stay.

75.

Then, to the rest, Rejoyce, (said he) to day In you the fortune of Great Britain lies: Among so brave a people you are they Whom Heav'n has chose to fight for such a Prize.

76.

If number English courages could quell, We should at first have shun'd, not met our foes; Whose numerous sails the fearful onely tell: Courage from hearts, and not from numbers grows.

77.

He said; nor needed more to say: with hast To their known stations chearfully they go: And all at once, disdaining to be last, Sollicite every gale to meet the foe.

78.

Nor did th'incourag'd Belgians long delay, But, bold in others, not themselves, they stood: So thick, our Navy scarce could sheer their way, But seem'd to wander in a moving wood.

79.

Our little Fleet was now ingag'd so far, That, like the Sword-fish in the Whale, they fought. The Combat onely seem'd a Civil War, Till through their bowels we our passage wrought.

80.

Never had valour, no not ours before, Done ought like this upon the Land or Main: Where not to be o'rcome was to do more Then all the Conquests former Kings did gain.

81.

The mighty Ghosts of our great Harries rose, And armed Edwards look'd, with anxious eyes, To see this Fleet among unequal foes, By which fate promis'd them their Charls should rise.

82.

Mean time the Belgians tack upon our Reer, And raking Chace-guns through our sterns they send: Close by, their Fire-ships, like Ia••kals, appear, Who on their Lions for the prey attend.

83.

Silent in smoke of Canons they come on: (Such vapours once did fiery Cacus hide.) In these the height of pleas'd revenge is shown, Who burn contented by another's side.

84.

Sometimes, from fighting Squadrons of each Fleet, (Deceiv'd themselves, or to preserve some friend) Two grapling Aetna's on the Ocean meet, And English fires with Belgian flames contend.

85.

Now, at each Tack, our little Fleet grows less; And, like maim'd fowl, swim lagging on the Main. Their greater loss their numbers scarce confess While they lose cheaper then the English gain.

86.

Have you not seen when, whistled from the fist, Some Falcon stoops at what her eye design'd, And, with her eagerness, the quarry miss'd, Straight flies at check, and clips it down the wind.

87.

The dastard Crow, that to the wood made wing, And sees the Groves no shelter can afford, With her loud Kaws her Craven kind does bring, Who, safe in numbers cuff the noble Bird.

88.

Among the Dutch thus Albemarl did fare: He could not conquer, and disdain'd to flie. Past hope of safety, 'twas his latest care, Like falling Cesar, decently to die.

89.

Yet pity did his manly spirit move To see those perish who so well had fought: And, generously, with his dispair he strove, Resolv'd to live till he their safety wrought.

90.

Let other Muses write his prosp'rous fate, Of conquer'd Nations tell, and Kings restor'd: But mine shall sing of his eclips'd estate, VVhich, like the Sun's, more wonders does afford.

91.

He drew his mighty Fregates all before, On which the foe his fruitless force employes: His weak ones deep into his Ree•• he bore, Remote from Guns as sick men are from noise.

92.

His fiery Canon did their passage guide, And foll'wing smoke obscur'd them from the foe. Thus Israel safe from the Egyptia••'s pride, By flaming pillars, and by clouds did go.

93.

Elsewhere the Belgian force we did defeat, But here our courages did theirs subdue: So Xenophon once led that fam'd retreat, Which first the Asian Empire overthrew.

94.

The foe approach'd: and one, for his bold sin, Was sunk, (as he that touch'd the Ark was ••lain;) The wild waves master'd him, and suck'd him in, And smiling Eddies dimpled on the Main.

95.

This seen, the rest at awful distance stood; As if they had been there as servants set, To stay, or to go on, as he thought good, And not persue, but wait on his retreat.

96.

So Lybian Huntsmen, on some sandy plain, From shady coverts rouz'd, the Lion chace: The Kingly beast roars out with loud disdain, m 10.18 And slowly moves, unknowing to give place.

97.

But if some one approach to dare his force, He swings his tail, and swiftly turns him round: With one paw seizes on his trembling Horse, And with the other tears him to the ground.

98.

Amidst these toils succeeds the balmy night, Now hissing waters the quench'd guns restore; n 10.19 And weary waves, withdrawing from the fight, Lie lull'd and panting on the silent shore.

99.

The Moon shone clear on the becalmed floud, Where, while her beams like glittering silver play, Upon the Deck our careful General stood, And deeply mus'd on theo 10.20 succeeding day.

100.

That happy Sun, said he, will rise again, Who twice victorious did our Navy see: And I alone must view him rise in vain, Without one ray of all his Star for me.

101.

Yet, like an English Gen'ral will I die, And all the Ocean make my spatious grave. Women and Cowards on the Land may lie, The Sea's a Tomb that's proper for the brave.

102.

Restless he pass'd the remnants of the night, Till the fresh air proclaim'd the morning nigh, And burning ships, the Martyrs of the fight, With paler fires beheld the Eastern sky.

103.

But now, his Stores of Ammunition spent, His naked valour is his onely guard: Rare thunders are from his dumb Cannon sent, And solitary Guns are scarcely heard.* 10.21

104.

Thus far had Fortune pow'r, here forc'd to stay, Nor longer durst with vertue be at strife: This, as a Ransome Albemarl did pay For all the glories of so great a life.

105.

For now brave Rupert from afar appears, Whose waving Streamers the glad General knows: With full spread Sails his eager Navy steers, And every Ship in swift proportion grows.

106.

The anxious Prince had heard the Cannon long, And from that length of time dire Omens drew Of English over-match'd, and Dutch too strong, Who never fought three days but to pursue.

107.

Then, as an Eagle, (who, with pious care, Was beating widely on the wing for prey) To her now silent Eiry does repair, And finds her callow Infants forc'd away.

108.

Stung with her love she stoops upon the plain, The broken air loud whistling as she flies: She stops, and listens, and shoots forth again, And guides her pinions by her young ones cries.

109.

With such kind passion hastes the Prince to fight, And spreads his flying canvass to the sound: Him, whom no danger, were he there, could fright, Now, absent, every little noise can wound.

110.

As, in a drought, the thirsty creatures cry, And gape upon the gather'd clowds for rain, And first the Martlet meets it in the sky, And, with wet wings, joys all the feather'd train▪

111.

With such glad hearts did our dispairing men Salute th' appearance of the Princes Fleet▪ And each ambitiously would claim the Ken That with first eyes did distant safety meet.

112.

The Dutch, who came like greedy Hinds before, To reap the harvest their ripe ears did yield, Now look like those, when rowling thunders roar, And sheets of Lightning blast the standing field.

113.

Full in the Princes passage, hills of sand And dang'rous flats in secret ambush lay, Where the false tides skim o'r the cover'd Land, And Sea-men with dissembled depths betray:

114.

The wily Dutch, who, like fall'n Angels, fear'd This new Messiah's coming, there did wait, And round the verge their braving Vessels steer'd, To tempt his courage with so fair a bait.

115.

But he, unmov'd, contemns their idle threat, Secure of fame when ere he please to fight: His cold experience tempers all his heat, And inbred worth does boasting valour ••light.

116.

Heroique virtue did his actions guide, And he the substance not th' appearance chose: To rescue one such friend he took more pride Than to destroy whole thousands of such foes.

117.

But, when approach'd, in strict embraces bound, Rupert and Albemarl together grow: He joys to have his friend in safety found, Which he to none but to that friend would owe.

118.

The chearful Souldiers, with new stores suppli'd, Now long to execute their spleenfull will; And, in revenge for those three days they tri'd, Wish one, like Ioshuah's, when the Sun stood still.

119.

Thus re-inforc'd, against the adverse Fleet Still doubling ours, brave Rupert leads the way. With the first blushes of the Morn they meet, And bring night back upon the new-born day.* 10.22

120.

His presence soon blows up the kindling fight, And his loud Guns speak thick like angry men: It seem'd as slaughter had been breath'd all night, And death new pointed his dull dart agen.

121.

The Dutch, too well his mighty Conduct knew, And matchless Courage since the former ••ight: Whose Navy like a stiff stretch'd cord did show Till he bore in, and bent them into flight.

122.

The wind he shares while half their Fleet offends His open side, and high above him shows, Upon the rest at pleasure he descends, And, doubly harm'd, he double harms bestows.

123.

Behind, the Gen'ral mends his weary pace, And sullenly to his revenge he sails: p 10.23 So glides some trodden Serpent on the grass, And long behind his wounded vollume trails.

124.

Th' increasing sound is born to either shore, And for their stakes the throwing Nations fear. Their passion, double with the Cannons roar, And with warm wishes each man combats there.

125.

Pli'd thick and close as when the fight begun, Their huge unwieldy Navy wasts away: So sicken waning Moons too neer the Sun, And blunt their crescents on the edge of day.

126.

And now reduc'd on equal terms to fight, Their Ships like wasted Patrimonies show: Where the thin scatt'ring Trees admit the light, And shun each others shadows as they grow.

127.

The warlike Prince had sever'd from the rest Two giant ships, the pride of all the Main; Which, with his own, so vigorously he press'd, And flew so home they could not rise again.

128.

Already batter'd, by his Lee they lay, In vain upon the passing winds they call: The passing winds through their torn canvass play, And flagging sails on heartless Sailors fall.

129.

Their open'd sides receive a gloomy light, Dreadful as day let in to shades below: Without, grim death rides bare-fac'd in their sight, And urges ent'ring billows as they flow.

130.

When one dire shot, the last they could supply, Close by the boar'd the Prince's Main-mast bore: All three now, helpless, by each other lie, And this offends not, and those fear no more.

131.

So have I seen some fearful Hare maintain A Course, till tir'd before the Dog she lay: Who, stretch'd behind her, pants upon the plain, Past pow'r to kill as she to get away.

132.

With his loll'd tongue he faintly licks his prey, His warm breath blows her flix up as she lies: She, trembling, creeps upon the ground away, And looks back to him with beseeching eyes.

133.

The Prince unjustly does his Stars accuse, Which hinder'd him to push his fortune on: For what they to his courage did refuse, By mortal valour never must be done.

134.

This lucky hour the wise Batavian takes, And warns his tatter'd Fleet to follow home: Proud to have so got off with equal stakes, q 10.24 Where 'twas a triumph not to be o'r-come.

135.

The General's force, as kept alive by fight, Now, not oppos'd, no longer can persue: Lasting till Heav'n had done his courage right, When he had conquer'd he his weakness knew.

136.

He casts a frown on the departing foe, And sighs to see him quit the watry field: His stern fix'd eyes no satisfaction show, For all the glories which the Fight did yield.

137.

Though, as when Fiends did Miracles avow, He stands confess'd ev'n by the boastful Dutch, He onely does his conquest disavow, And thinks too little what they found too much.

138.

Return'd, he with the Fleet resolv'd to stay, No tender thoughts of home his heart divide: Domestick joys and cares he puts away, For Realms are housholds which the Great must guide.

139.

As those who unripe veins in Mines explore, On the rich bed again the warm turf lay, Till time digests the yet imperfect Ore, And know it will be Gold another day.

140.

So looks our Monarch on this early fight, Th' essay, and rudiments of great success, Which all-maturing time must bring to light, While he, like Heav'n, does each days labour bless▪

141.

Heav'n ended not the first or second day, Yet each was perfect to the work design'd: God and Kings work, when they their work survey▪ And passive aptness in all subjects find.

142.

In burden'd Vessels, first, with speedy care, His plenteous Stores do season'd timber send Thither the brawny Carpenters repair, And as the Chyrurg'ons of maim'd ships attend* 10.25

143.

With Cord and Canvass from rich Hamburgh sent, His Navies molted wings he imps once more: Tall Norway Fir, their Masts in Battel spent, And English Oak sprung leaks and planks restore.

144.

All hands employ'd,r 10.26 the Royal work grows warm, Like labouring Bees on a long Summers day, Some sound the Trumpet for the rest to swarm, And some on bells of tasted Lillies play:

145.

With glewy wax some new foundation lay Of Virgin combs, which from the roof are hung: Some arm'd within doors, upon duty stay, Or tend the sick, or educate the young.

146.

So here, some pick out bullets from the sides, Some drive old Okum through each seam & rift: Their left-hand does the Calking-iron guide, The ratling Mallet with the right they lift.

147.

With boiling Pitch another near at hand (From friendly Sweden brought) the seams in-stops▪ Which well paid o'r the salt-Sea waves withstand, And shakes them from the rising beak in drops.

148.

Some the gall'd ropes with dawby Marling bind, Or sear-cloth Masts with strong Tarpawling coats: To try new shrouds one mounts into the wind, And one, below, their ease or stifness notes.

149.

Our careful Monarch stands in Person by, His new-cast Canons firmness to explore: The strength of big-corn'd powder loves to try, And Ball and Cartrage sorts for every bore.

150.

Each day brings fresh supplies of Arms and Men, And Ships which all last VVinter were abrode: And such as fitted since the Fight had been, Or new from Stocks were fall'n into the Road.

151.

The goodly London* 10.27 in her gallant trim, (The Phoenix daughter of the vanish'd old:) Like a rich Bride does to the Ocean swim, And on her shadow rides in floating gold.

152.

Her Flag aloft spread ruffling to the wind, And sanguine Streamers seem the floud to fire: The Weaver charm'd with what his Loom design'd, Goes on to Sea, and knows not to retire.

153.

With roomy decks, her Guns of mighty strength, (Whose low-laid mouthes each mounting billow laves:) Deep in her draught, and warlike in her length, She seems a Sea-wasp flying on the waves.

154.

This martial Present, piously design'd, The Loyal City give their best-lov'd King: And with a bounty ample as the wind, Built, fitted and maintain'd to aid him bring.

155.

By viewing Nature, Natures Hand-maid, Art, Makes mighty things from small beginnings grow: Thus fishes first to shipping did impart Their tail the Rudder, and their head the Prow.* 10.28

156.

Some Log, perhaps, upon the waters swam An useless drift, which, rudely cut within, And hollow'd, first a floating trough became, And cross some Riv'let passage did begin.

157.

In shipping such as this the Irish Kern, And untaught Indian, on the stream did glide: E••e sharp-keel'd Boats to stem the floud did learn, Or fin-like Oars did spread from either side.

158.

Adde but a Sail, and Saturn so appear'd, When, from lost Empire, he to Exile went, And with the Golden age to Tyber steer'd, Where Coin & first Commerce he did invent.

159.

Rude as their Ships was Navigation, then; No useful C••••pass or Meridian known: Coasting, they kep•• the Land within their ken, And knew no North but when the Pole-star shone.

160.

Of all who since have us'd the open Sea, Then▪ the bold English none more fame have won: s 10.29 Beyond the Year, and out of Heav'ns high-way, They make discoveries where they see no Sun.

161.

But what ••o long in vain, and yet unknown, By poor man-kinds benighted▪ wit is ••ought, Shall in this Age to Britain first ••e shown, And hence be to admiring Nations taught▪

162.

The Ebbs of Tydes, and their mysterious flow, We, as Arts Elements shall understand: And as by Line upon the Ocean go, Whose paths shall be familiar as the Land.

163.

t 10.30 Instructed ships shall sail to quick Commerce; By which remotest Regions are alli'd: Which makes one City of the Universe, VVhere some may gain, and all may be suppli'd.

164.

Their, we upon our Globes last verge shall go, And view the Ocean leaning on the sky: From thence our rolling Neighbours we shall know. And on the Lunar world securely pry.

165.

This I fore-tel, from your auspicious care, VVho great in search of God and Natu•••• grow: VVho best your wise Creator's praise declar••, Since best to praise his works is best to know.* 10.31

166.

O truly Royal! who behold the Law, And rule of beings in your Make•••• mind, And thence, like Limbecks, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Idea's draw, To fit the levell'd use of humane kind.

167.

But first the toils of war we must endure, And, from th'Injurious Dutch redeem the Seas. War makes the valiant of his right ••ecure, And gives up fraud to be chastis'd with ••ase.

168.

Already were the Belgians on our coast, Whose Fleet more mighty every day became, By 〈◊〉〈◊〉 success, which they did falsly boast, And ••ow, by first appearing seem'd to claim.

169.

Designing, subtil, diligent, and close, They knew to manage War with wise delay: Yet all those arts their vanity did cross, And, by their pride, their prudence did betray.

170.

Nor staid the English long: but, well suppli'd, Appear as numerous as th'insulting foe. The Combat now by courage must be tri'd, And the success the braver Nation show.

171.

There was the Plimouth Squadron new come in, Which in the Straights last Winter was abroad: Which twice on Biscay's working Bay had been, And on the Mid-land Sea the French had aw'd.

172.

Old expert Allen, loyal all along, Fam'd for his action on the Smirna Fleet, And Holmes, whose name shal live in Epique Song, While Musick Numbers, or while Verse has Fleet.

173.

Holmes, the Achates of the Gen'rals fight, VVho first bewitch'd our eyes with Guinny Gold: As once old Cato in the Roman's sight The tempting fruits of Africk did unfold.

174.

VVith him went Sprag, as bountiful as brave, VVhom his high courage to command had brought: Harm••n, who did the twice fir'd Harry save, And in his burning ship undaunted fought.

175.

Young Hollis, on a Muse by Mars begot, Born, Cesar-like, to write and act great deeds: Impatient to revenge his fatal shot, His right hand doubly to his left succeeds.

176.

Thousands were there in darker fame that dwell, VVhose deeds some nobler Poem shall adorn▪ And, though to me unknown, they, sure, fought well, VVhom Rupert led, and who were British born.

177.

Of every size an hundred fighting Sail, So vast the Navy now at Anchor rides, That underneath it the press'd waters fail, And, with its weight, it shoulders off the Tydes.

178.

Now Anchors weigh'd, the Sea-men shout so shrill, That Heav'n & Earth and the wide Ocean rings: A breeze from VVestward waits their sails to fill, And rests, in those high beds, his downy wings.

179.

The wary Dutch this gathering storm foresaw, And durst not bide it on the English coast: Behind their treach'rous shallows they withdraw, And their lay snares to catch the British Hoast.

180.

So the false Spider, when her Nets are spread, Deep ambush'd in her silent den does lie: And feels, far off, the trembling of her thread, Whose filmy cord should bind the strugling Fly.

181.

Then, if at last, she find him fast beset, She issues forth, and runs along her Loom: She joys to touch the Captive in her Net, And drags the little wretch in triumph home.

182.

The Belgians hop'd that, with disorder'd haste, Our deep-cut keels upon the sands might run: Or, if with caution leisurely were past, Their numerous gross might charge us one by one.

183.

But, with a fore-wind pushing them above, And swelling tyde that heav'd them from below, O'r the blind flots our warlike Squadrons move, And, with spread sails, to welcome Battel go.

184.

It seem'd as there the British Neptune stood, With all his host of waters at command, Beneath them to submit th'officious floud: u 10.32 And, with his Trident, shov'd them off the sand.

185.

To the pale foes they suddenly draw near, And summon them to unexpected fight: They start like Murderers when Ghosts appear, And draw their Curtains in the dead of night.

186.

Now Van to Van the formost Squadrons meet, The midmost Battels hasting up behind, VVho view, far off, the storm of falling Sleet, And hear their thunder ratling in the wind.* 10.33

187.

At length the adverse Admirals appear: (The two bold Champions of each Countries right) Their eyes describe the lists as they come near, And draw the lines of death before they fight.

188.

The distance judg'd for shot of every size, The Linstocks touch, the pond'rous ball expires: The vig'rous Sea-man every port-hole plies, And adds his heart to every Gun he fires.

189.

Fierce was the fight on the proud Belgians side, For honour, which they seldome sought before: But now they by their own vain boasts were ti'd, And forc'd, at least in show, to prize it more.

190.

But sharp remembrance on the English part, And shame of being match'd by such a foe: Rouze conscious vertue up in every heart, w 10.34 And seeming to be stronger makes them so.

191.

Nor long the Belgians could that Fleet sustain, Which did two Gen'rals fates, and Cesar's bear. Each several Ship a victory did gain, As Rupert or as Albemarl were there.

192.

Their batter'd Admiral too soon withdrew, Unthank'd by ours for his unfinish'd ••ight: But he the minds of his Dutch Masters knew, Who call'd that providence which we call'd flight.

193.

Never did men more joyfully obey, Or sooner understood the sign to flie: With such alacrity they bore away, As if to praise them all the States stood by.

194.

O famous Leader of the Belgian Fleet, Thy Monument inscrib'd such praise shall wear As Verro, timely flying, once did meet, Because he did not of his Rome despair.

195.

Behold that Navy which a while before Provok'd the tardy English to the fight, Now draw their beaten vessels close to shore, As Larks lie dar'd to shun the Hobbies flight.

196.

Who ere would English Monuments survey, In other records may our courage know: But let them hide the story of this day, Whose fame was blemish'd by too base a foe.

197.

Or if too busily they will enquire Into a victory which we disdain: Then let them know, the Belgians did retire x 10.35 Before the Patron Saint of injur'd Spain.

198.

Repenting England this revengeful day y 10.36 To Philip's Manes did an off'ring bring. England, which first, by leading them astray, Hatch'd up Rebellion to destroy her King.

199.

Our Fathers bent their baneful industry To check a Monarchy that slowly grew: But did not France or Holland's fate foresee, Whose rising pow'r to swift Dominion flew.

200.

In fortunes Empire blindly thus we go, And wander after pathless destiny: Whose dark resorts since prudence cannot know. In vain it would provide for what shall be.

201.

But what ere English to the bless'd shall go, And the fourth Harry or first Orange me••t: Find him disowning of a Burbon foe, And him detesting a Batavian Fleet.

202.

Now on their coasts our conquering Navy rides, Way-lays their Merchants, and their Land besets▪ Each day new wealth without their care provides, They lie asleep with prizes in their nets.

203.

So, close behind ••ome Promontory lie The ••uge Leviathans t' attend their prey: And give no chace, but swallow in the frie, Which through their gaping jaws mistake the way.

204.

Nor was this all: in Ports and Roads remote, Destructive Fires among whole Fleets we send: Triumphant flames upon the water flote, And out-bound ships at home their voyage end.* 10.37

205.

Those various Squadrons, variously design'd, Each vessel fraighted with a several load: Each Squadron waiting for a several wind, All find but one, to burn them in the Road.

206.

Some bo••nd for Guinny, golden sand to find, Bore all the gawds the simple Natives wear: Some for the pride of ••urkish Courts design'd, ••or folded Turbans finest Holland bear.

207.

Some English Wool, vex'd in a Belgian Loom, And into Cloth of spungy softness made: Did into France or colder De••mark doom, To ruine with worse ware our staple Trade.

208.

Our greedy Sea-men rummage every hold, Smiles on the booty of each wealthier Chest: And, as the Priests who with their gods make bold, Take what they like, and sacrifice the rest.

209.

But ha! ••how, unsincere are all our joys! Which, sent from Heav'n, like Lightning make no stay: Their falling taste the journeys length destroys, Or grief, sent post, o'r-takes them on the way.* 10.38

210.

Swell'd with our ••ate successes on the Foe, Which France and Holland wanted power to cross: We urge an unseen Fate to lay us low, And feed their envious eyes with English loss.

211.

Each Element his dread command obeys, Who makes or ruines with a smile or frown; Who as by one he did our Nation raise, So now he with another pulls us down.

212.

Yet, London, Empress of the Northern Clime, By an high fate thou greatly didst expire; z 10.39 Great as the worlds, which at the death of time Must fall, and rise a nobler frame by fire.

213.

As when some dire Usurper Heav'n provides, To scourge his Country with a lawless sway: His birth, perhaps, some petty Village hides, And sets his Cradle out of Fortune's way:

214.

Till fully ripe his swelling fate breaks out, And hurries him to mighty mischiefs on: His Prince surpriz'd at first, no ill could doubt, And wants the pow'r to meet it when 'tis known.

215.

Such was the rise of this prodigious fire, Which in mean buildings first obscurely bred, From thence did soon to open streets aspire, And straight to Palaces and Temples spread.

216.

The diligence of Trades and noiseful gain, And luxury, more late, asleep were laid: All was the nights, and in her silent reign, No sound the rest of Nature did invade.

217.

In this deep quiet, from what scource unknown, Those seeds of fire their fatal birth disclose: And first, few scatt'ring sparks about were blown, Big with the flames that to our ruine rose.

218.

Then, in some close-pent room it crept along, And, smouldring as it went, in silence fed: Till th'infant monster, with devouring strong, Walk'd boldly upright with exalted head.

219.

Now, like some rich or mighty Murderer, To great for prison, which he breaks with gold▪ Who fresher for new mischiefs does appear, And dares the world to tax him with the old.

220.

So scapes th'insulting fire his narrow Jail, And makes small out-lets into open air: There the fierce winds his open force assail, And beat him down-ward to his first repair.

221.

a 10.40 The winds, like crafty Courtezans, with-held His flames from burning, but to blow them more: And, every fresh attempt, he is repell'd With faint denials, weaker then before.

222.

And now, no longer letted of his prey, He leaps up at it with inrag'd desire: O'r-looks the neighbours with a wide survey, And nods at ••very house his threatning fire.

223.

The Ghosts of Traitors, from the Bridge descend, With bold Fanatick Spectres to rejoyce: About the fire into a Dance they bend, And sing their Sabbath Notes with feeble voice.

224.

Our Guardian Angel saw them where he sate Above the Palace of our slumbring King, He sigh'd, abandoning his charge to Fate, And, drooping, oft look back upon the wing.

225.

At length the cra••kling noise and dreadful blaze, Call'd up some waking Lover to the sight: And long it was ere he the rest could raise, Whose heavy eye-lids yet were full of night.

226.

The next to danger, hot pursu'd by fate, Half cloth'd, half naked, hastily retire: And frighted Mother strike their breasts, too late, For helpless Infants left amidst the fire.

227.

Their cries soon waken all the dwellers near: Now murmuring noises rise in every street▪ The more remote run s••umbling with their fear, And, in the dark, men justle as they meet.

228.

So weary Bees in little Cells repose▪ But if night-robbers lift the well-stor'd Hive, An humming through their waxen City grows, And out upon each others wings they drive.

229.

Now stree••s grow throng'd and busie as by day: Some run for Buckets to the hallow'd Quire: Some cut the Pipes, and some the Engines play, And some more bold mount Ladders to the fire.

230.

In vain: for, from the East, a Belgian wind, His hostile breath through the dry rafters sent: The flames impell••d, soon left their foes behind, And forward, with a wanton fury went.

231.

A Key of fire ran all along the shore, b 10.41 And lighten'd all the River with the blaze: The waken'd Tydes began again to roar, And wond'ring Fish in shining waters gaze.

231.

Old Father Thames rais'd up his reverend head, But fear'd the fate of Simoeis would return: Deep in his Ooze he sought his sedgy bed, And shrunk his wate••s back into his Urn.

233.

The fire, mean time, walks in a broader gross, To either hand his wings he opens wide: He wades the streets, & straight he reaches cross, And plays his longing flames on th'other side.

234.

At first they warm, then scorch, and then they take: Now with long necks from side to side they feed: At length, grown strong, their Mother fire forsake, And a new Collony of flames succeed.

235.

To every nobler portion of the Town, The curling billows roul their restless ••yde: In parties now they straggle up and down, As Armies, unoppos'd, for prey divide.

236.

One mighty Squadron, with a side wind sped, Through narrow lanes his cumb••r'd fire does haste: By pow'rful charms of gold and silver led, The Lombard Banquers and the Change to waste.

237.

Another backward to the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 would go, And slowly ea••s his way against the wind▪ But the main body of the marching foe: Against th' Imperial Palace is design'd.

238.

Now day appears, and with the day the King, Whose early care had robb'd him of his rest: Far off the cracks of falling houses ring, And shrieks of subjects pierce his tender breast.

239.

Near as he draws, thick harbingers of smoke, With gloomy pillars, cover all the place: Whose little intervals of night are broke By sparks that drive against his Sacred Face.

240.

More then his Guards his sorrows made him known, And pious tears which down his cheeks did show'r: The wretched in his grief forgot their own: (So much the pity of a King has pow'r.)

241.

He wept the flames of what he lov'd so well, And what so well had merited his love. For never Prince in grace did more excel, Or Royal City more in duty strove.

242.

Nor with an idle care did he behold: (Subjects may grieve, but Monarchs must redress.) He chears the fearful, and commends the bold, And makes despairers hope for good success.

243.

Himself directs what first is to be done, And orders all the succours which they bring. The helpful and the good about him run, And form an Army worthy such a King.

244.

He sees the dire contagion spread so fast, That where it seizes, all relief is vain: And therefore must unwillingly lay waste That Country which would, else, the foe maintain.

245.

The powder blows up all before the fire: Th' amazed flames stand gather'd on a heap; And from the precipices brinck retire, Afraid to venture on so large a leap.

246.

Thus fighting fires a while themselves consume, But straight, like Turks, forc'd on to win or die▪ They first lay ••ender bridges of their fume, And o'r the breach in unctuous vapours flie.

247.

Part stays for passage till a gust of wind Ships o'r their forces in a shining sheet: Part, creeping under ground, their journey blind, And, climbing from below, their fellows meet.

248.

Thus, to some desart plain, or old wood side, Dire night has come from far to dance their round: And o'r brode Rivers on their fiends they ride, Or sweep in clowds above the blasted ground.

249.

No help avails: for, Hydra-like, the fire, Lifts up his hundred heads to aim his way. And scarce the wealthy can one half retire, Before he rushes in to share the prey.

250.

The rich grow suppliant, & the poor grow proud: Those offer mighty gain, and these ask more. So void of pity is th'ignoble crowd, When others ruine may increase their store.

251.

As those who live by shores with joy behold Some wealthy vessel split or stranded nigh; And, from the Rocks, leap down for shipwrack'd Gold, And seek the Tempest which the others flie.

252.

So these but wait the Owners last despair, And what's permitted to the flames invade: Ev'n from their jaws they hungry morsels tear, And, on their backs, the spoils of Vulcan lade.

253.

The days were all in this lost labour spent; And when the weary King gave place to night, His Beams he to his Royal Brother lent, And so shone still in his reflective light.

254.

Night came, but without darkness or repose, A dismal picture of the gen'ral doom: Where Souls distracted when the Trumpet blows And half unready with their bodies come.

255.

Those who have homes, when home they do repair To a last lodging call their wand'ring friends. Their short uneasie sleeps are broke with care, To look how near their own destruction tends.

256.

Those who have none sit round where once it was, And with full eyes each wonted room require: Haunting the yet warm ashes of the place, As murder'd men walk where they did expire.

257.

Some stir up coals and watch the Vestal fire, Others in vain from sight of ruine run: And, while through burning Lab'rinths they retire, With loathing eyes repeat what they would shun.

258.

The most, in fields, like herded beasts lie down; To dews obnoxious on the grassie floor: And while their ••abes in sleep their sorrows drown, Sad Parents watch the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of t••eir store.

259.

While by the motion of the flames they ghess What streets are burning now, & what are near: An Infant, waking, to the paps would press▪ And meets, instead of milk, a falling tea••.

260.

No thought can ease them but their Sovereign's care, Whose praise th'afflicted as their comfort sing: Ev'n those whom want might drive to just despair, Think life a blessing under such a King.

261.

Mean time he sadly suffers in their grief, Out-weeps an Hermite, and out-prays a Saint: All the long night he studies their relief, How they may be suppli'd, and he may want.

262.

O God, said he, thou Patron of my days, Guide of my youth in exile and distress! W••o me unfriended, brought'st by wondrous ways The Kingdom of my Fathers to possess.* 10.42

263.

Be thou my Judge, with what unwearied care I since have labour'd for my People's good: To bind the bruises of a Civil Wa••, And stop the issues of their wasting bloud.

264.

Thou, who hast taught me to forgive the ill, And recompense, as friends the good, mis••ed; If mercy be a Precept of thy will, Return that mercy on thy Servant's head.

265.

Or, if my heedless Youth has stept astray, Too soon forgetful of thy gracious hand: On me alone thy just displeasure lay, But take thy judgments from this mourning Land.

266.

We all have sinn'd, and thou hast laid us low, As humble Earth from whence at first we came: Like flying shades before the clowds we show, And shrink like Parchment in consuming 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

267.

O let it be enough what thou hast done, When spotted deaths ran arm'd through every street, With poison'd darts, which not the good could shun. The speedy could out-fly, or valiant meet.

268.

The living few, and frequent funerals then, Proclam'd thy wrath on this forsaken place: And now those few who are return'd agen Thy searching judgments to their dwellings trace.

269.

O pass not, Lord, an absolute decree, Or bind thy sentence unconditional: But in thy sentence our remorce foresee, And, in that foresight, this thy doom recall.

270.

Thy threatnings, Lord, as thine, thou maist revoke: But, if immutable and fix'd they stand, Continue still thy self to give the stroke, And let not foreign foes oppress thy Land.

271.

Th' Eternal heard, and from the Heav'nly Quire, Chose out the Cherub with the flaming sword: And bad him swiftly drive th' approaching fire From where our Naval Magazins were stor'd.

272.

The blessed Minister his wings displai'd, And like a shooting Star he cleft the night: He charg'd the flames, and those that disobey'd, He lash'd to duty with his sword of light.

273.

The fugitive flames, chastis'd, went forth to prey On pious Structures, by our Fathers rear'd: By which to Heav'n they did affect the way, Ere Faith in Church-men without Works was heard.

274.

The wanting Orphans saw, with watry eyes, Their Founders charity in dust laid low: And sent to God their ever-answer'd cries, (For he protects the poor who made them so.)

275.

Nor could thy Fabrick, Paul's, defend thee long, Though thou wert Sacred to thy Makers praise: Though made immortal by a Poet's Song; And Poets Songs the Theban walls could raise.

276.

The dareing flames peep't in and saw from far, The awful beauties of the Sacred Quire: But, since it was prophan'd by Civil War, Heav'n thought it fit to have it purg'd by fire.

277.

Now down the narrow streets it swiftly came, And, widely opening, did on both sides prey. This benefit we sadly owe the flame, If onely ruine must enlarge our way.

278.

And now four days the Sun had seen our woes, Four ••ights the Moon beheld th' incessant fi••e: It seem'd as if the Stars more sickly rose, And farther from the ••eav'rish North retire.

279.

In th' Empyrean Heaven, (the bless'd abode) The Thrones and the Dominions prostrate lie, Not daring to behold their angry God: And an hush'd silence damps the tune••ul sky.

280.

At length th' Almighty cast a pitying eye, And mercy softly touch'd his melting breast: He saw the Town's one half in rubbish lie, And eager flames give on to storm the rest.

281.

An hollow chrystal Pyramid he takes, In firmamental waters dipt above; Of it a brode Extinguisher he makes, And hoods the flames that to their quarry strove.

282.

The vanquish'd fires withdraw from every place, Or full with feeding, sink into a sleep: Each houshold Genius shows again his face, And, from the hearths, the little Lares creep.

283.

Our King this more then natural change beholds; With sober joy his heart and eyes abound: To the All-good his lifted hands he folds, And thanks him low on his redeemed ground.

284.

As when sharp frosts had long constrain'd the earth, A kindly thaw unlocks it with mild rain: And first the tender blade peeps up to birth, And straight the green fields laugh with promis'd grain:

285.

By such degrees, the spreading gladness grew In every heart, which fear had froze before: The standing streets with so much joy they view, That with less grief the perish'd they deplore.

286.

The Father of the people open••d wide His stores, and all the poor with plenty fed: Thus God's Annointed God'•• own place suppli'd, And fill'd the empty with his daily bread.

287.

This Royal bounty brought its own reward, And, in their minds, so deep did print the sense: That if their ruines sadly they regard, 'Tis but with fear the sight might drive him thence.

289.

But so may he live long, that Town to sway, Which by his Auspice they will nobler make, As he will hatch their ashes by his sta••, And not their humble ruines now forsake.* 10.43

290.

They have not lost their Loyalty by fire; Nor is their courage or their wealth so low, That from his Wars they poorly would retire, Or beg the pity of a vanquish'd foe.

291.

Not with more constancy the Iews of ol••, By ••yrus from rewarded Exile sent: Their Royal City did in dust behold, Or with more vigour to rebuild it went.

292.

The utmost malice of their Stars is past, And two dire Comets which have scourg'd the Town, In their own Plague and Fire have breath'd their last, Or, dimly, in their sinking sockets frown.

293.

Now frequent Trines the happier lights among, And high-rais'd Iove from his dark prison freed: (Those weights took off that on his Planet hung) Will gloriously the new laid work succeed.

294.

Me-thinks already, from this Chymick flame, I see a City of more precious mold▪ Rich as the Town which g••ves thec 10.44 Indies name, With Silver pav'd, and all divine with Gold.

295.

Already, Labouring with a mighty fate, She shakes the rubbish from her mounting brow, And seems to have renew'd her Cha••ters date, Which Heav'n will to the death of time allow.

296.

More great then humane, now, and mored 10.45 August, New dei••i'd she from her fires does rise: Her widening streets on new foundations trust, And, opening, into larger parts she flies.

297.

Before, she like some Shepherdess did show, Who sate to bathe her by a River's side: Not answering to her fame, but rude and low, Nor taught the beauteous Arts of Modern pride.

298.

Now, like a Maiden Queen, she will behold, From her high Turrets, hourly Sutors come: The East with Incense, and the West with Gold, Will stand, like Suppliants, to receive her doom.

299.

The silver Thames, her own domestick Floud, Shall bear her Vessels, like a sweeping Train; And often wind (as of his Mistress proud) With longing eyes to meet her face again.

300.

The wealthy Tagus, and the wealthier Rhine, The glory of their Towns no more shall boast: And Sein, That would with Belgian Rivers joyn, Shall find her lustre stain'd, and Tra••fick lost.

301.

The vent'rous Merchant, who design'd more far, And touches on our hospitable shore: Charm'd with the splendour of this Northern Star, Shall here unlade him, and depart no more.

302.

Our pow'rful Navy shall no longer meet, The wealth of France or Holland to invade: The beauty of this Town, without a Fleet, From all the world shall vindicate her Trade.

303.

And, while this fam'd Emporium we prepare▪ The British Ocean shall such triumphs boast, That those who now disdain our Trade to share, Shall rob like Pyrats o•• our wealthy Coast.

304.

Already we have conquer'd half the War, And the less dang••rous part is left behind: Our trouble now is but to make them dare, And not so great to vanquish as to find.

305.

Thus to the Eastern wealth through storms we go; But now, the Cape once doubled, fear no more: A constant Trade-wind will securely blow, And gently lay us on the Spicy shore.

FINIS.

Notes

• a 10.1

  In Eastern Quarries, &c. Precious Sto••es at fi••st are Dew, condens'd and ••ardea'd by the warmth of the Su••, or subt••rran••∣an Fires.
• b 10.2

  Each wexing, &c according to their opinio••, who think that g••eat hea•• of waters under the L••ne is depressed into Tydes by the Moon, towards the Pol••s.
• c 10.3

  Th' Iberian, the Spaniard.
• d 10.4

  Wh•••• Prote••s blows, or Caeruleus Proteus immania pouti ar∣menta, & magnas poscit sub gurg••te Pho••as. Vi••g.
• * 10.5

  The Admiral of Holland.
• e 10.6

  So••thern Climates, Guinny.
• * 10.7

  The attempt at Berghen.
• f 10.8

  Such are, &c, from Petronius. Si, bene calculum ponas ubique naufragiunt est.
• g 10.9

  The German saith. Tacitus saith of them. Nullos morta∣lium side aut armis ante Germanos ••sse.
• * 10.10

  War declar'd by France.
• * 10.11

  Prince Rupert and Duke Albemarl sent to sea.
• h 10.12

  Future people, Examin•• insant••um futurusque populus. Pl•• Jun. in pan. ad Traj.
• * 10.13

  Duke of Albemarl's Battel, first day.
• i 10.14

  Th' Elean, &c. Where the Olimpick Games were celebrated.
• k 10.15

  Lands unfix'd, from Virgil: Credas innare revultas Cycladas, &c.
• * 10.16

  S••cond days Battel.
• l 10.17

  His face, &c, Spem vultu simula•• premit alto c••rde dolor••m. Virg.
• m 10.18

  The simile is Virgil's, Vestigia re••ro improperata refert, &c.
• n 10.19

  Weary waves, Statius Sylv. Nec trucibus fluviis idem sonus: occidit hor••or aeq••oris, ac tenis maria acclinata quiescunt.
• o 10.20

  The third of June, famous for two ••ormer Victories.
• * 10.21

  Third day.
• * 10.22

  Fourth days B••ttel.
• p 10.23

  So glides, &c ••••om Virgil Quum medii nexus, ••xtremoequ•• 〈…〉〈…〉 solvuntur; tar••osque trahit sinus ulti••us orbes, &c.
• q 10.24

  From Horace: Quos opinius fallere & effugere est triumpl••us.
• * 10.25

  His Majesty repairs the Fleet.
• r 10.26

  Fervet opus: the same similitude in Virgil.
• * 10.27

  Loyal London d••scrib'd.
• * 10.28

  Dig••ession concerning Shipping and Navigation.
• s 10.29

  Extra anni solisque vicis. Virg.
• t 10.30

  By a more exact knowledge of Longitudes.
• * 10.31

  Apostrophe to the Royal Society.
• u 10.32

  Levat ipse Tridenti, & vastas aperit Syrtes, &c. Virg.
• * 10.33

  Second Battel.
• w 10.34

  P••s••unt quia p••sse videntur. 〈◊〉〈◊〉
• x 10.35

  Patron Saint: St. James, on whose day this victory was gain'd.
• y 10.36

  Philip's Maa••s: Philip the second, of Spain, against whom the Hol••••nders rebelling, were aided by Queen Elizabeth.
• * 10.37

  Burn••ng of the Fleet in the Vly by Sir Robert Holmes.
• * 10.38

  Transitum to the Fire of London.
• z 10.39

  Quum mare quum tellus correptaque regia Coeli, ardeat, &c. Ovid.
• a 10.40

  Like crafty, &c. Haec arte tractaba•• cupidum virum, ut 〈◊〉〈◊〉 animum i••opia accrud••ret.
• b 10.41

  Sigaea igni freta lata relucent. Virg.
• * 10.42

  K••ng's Prayer.
• * 10.43

  Cities request to the King not to leave them.
• c 10.44

  M••xico.
• d 10.45

  Augusta, the old name of London.