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THE SPANISH DESCENT.

A POEM.

1 LOng had this Nation been amus'd in vain
2 With Posts from Portugal, and News from Spain,
3 With Or—d's Conquests, and the Fleets Success,
4 And Favours from the Moors at Maccaness.
5 The Learned Mob bought Compasses and Scales,
6 And every Barber knew the Bay of Cales,
7 Show'd us the Army here, and there the Fleet,
8 Here the Troops Land, and there the Foes Retreat.
9 There at St. Maries how the Spaniard runs,
10 and listen close as if they heard the Guns,
11 And some pretend they see them the Nuns.
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12 Others describe the Castle and Puntalls,
13 And tell how easie 'tis to Conquer Cales;
14 Wisely propose to let the Silver come,
15 And help to Pay the Nation's Debts at Home.
16 But still they count the Spoils without the Cost,
17 And still the News came faster than the Post.
18 The graver Heads, like Mountebanks of State,
19 Of Abdication and Revolts Debate,
20 Expect a Revolution should appear
21 As Cheap and Easie as it had done here.
22 Bring the revolting Grandees to the Coast,
23 And give the Duke D' Anjou up for Lost.
24 Doom him to France to seek Relief in vain,
25 And send the Duke of Austria to Spain.
26 Canvas the Council at Madrid, and find
27 How all the Spanish Courtiers stand enclin'd.
28 Describe the strange Convulsions of the State,
29 And Old Carreroe's Sacrific'd to Fate.
30 Then all the Stage of Action they Survey,
31 And wish our Generals knew as much as they.
32 Some have their Fancies so exceeding Bold,
33 They saw the Queens fall out, and heard 'em Scold:
34 Nor is the thing so strange, for if they did,
35 'Twas Talking from Toledo to Madrid.
36 And now the Farce is acting o'er again,
37 The meaning of our Mischiefs to Explain.
38 The Learned Mob c'er-read in Arms and Law,
39 The Cause of their Miscarriages foresaw.
40 Tell us the Loitering Minutes were mis-spent,
41 Too long a going, and too few that went.
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42 Exalt the Catalonian Garrison,
43 The New made Works, the Platform, and the Town.
44 Tell us it was Impossible to Land,
45 And all their Batteries sunk into the Sand.
46 Some are all Banter, and the Voyage Despise;
47 For fruitless Actions seldom pass for Wise.
48 Tell us 'twas like our English Politicks,
49 To think to wheedle Spain with Hereticks.
50 The disproportion'd Force they Banter too;
51 The Ships too many, and the Men too few.
52 Then they find fault with Conduct, and condemn
53 Sometimes the Officers, sometimes the Men:
54 Nor scapes his Grace the Satyr of the Town;
55 Whoever fails Success, shall fail Renown.
56 Sir George comes in among the Indiscreet;
57 Sometimes the Armies censur'd, then the Fleet;
58 How the abandon'd Country they destroy'd,
59 And made their early Declarations void;
60 Too hasty Proofs of their Protection gave,
61 Plundering the People they came there to Save.
62 As if the Spaniards were so plagu'd with France,
63 To fly to Thieves for their Deliverance.
64 But amongst all the Wisdom of the Town,
65 The vast Designs of Fate remains unknown,
66 Unguest at, unexpected, hid from Thoughts,
67 For no Man look'd for Blessings in our Faults.
68 Mischances sometimes are a Nation's Good,
69 Rightly Improv'd, and Nicely Understood.
70 Ten Years we felt the Dying Pangs of War,
71 And fetch'd our Grief and Miseries from far.
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72 Our English Millions Foreign War maintains,
73 And English Blood has Drencht the Neighbouring Plains.
74 Nor shall we Blush to Boast what all Men own,
75 Uncommon English Valour has been shown;
76 The forward Courage of our Ill Paid Men,
77 Deserves more Praise than Nature spares my Pen.
78 What cou'd they not Perform, or what Endure?
79 Witness the Mighty Bastions of Namure.
80 We fasted much, and we attempted more,
81 But ne'er cou'd come to giving Thanks before,
82 Unless 'twas when the Fatal Strife was o're.
83 Some secret Achan Curst our Enterprize,
84 And Israel fled before her Enemies.
85 Whether the Poisonous Particles were hid
86 In Us that Follow'd, or in Them that Led:
87 What Fatal Charm benumb'd the Nations Sense,
88 To struggle with Eternal Providence:
89 Whether some Curse, or else some Perjur'd Vow,
90 Or some strange Guilt that's expiated now:
91 Was it the Pilots who ill steer'd the State;
92 Or was it the Decisive Will of Fate;
93 'Tis hard to tell; but this too well we know,
94 All things went backward, or went on too slow;
95 Small was the Glory of our High Success,
96 A Tedious War, and an Imperfect Peace;
97 Peace Dearly purchas'd, and which Cost us more
98 Great Kingdoms than we Conquer'd Towns before.
99 Actions may miss of their deserv'd Applause,
100 When Heaven approves the Men, and not the Cause;
101 And well contriv'd Designs miscarry when
102 Heaven may approve the Cause, but not the Men;
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103 Here then's the Ground of our Expence of Blood,
104 The Sword of Gideon's, not the Sword of God.
105 The Mighty and the Wise are laid aside,
106 And Victory the Sex has Dignified;
107 We have bin us'd to Female Conquests here,
108 And Queens have bin the Glory of the War,
109 The Scene Revives with Smiles of Providence,
110 All things Declin'd before, and Prosper since;
111 And as if ill Success had been Entail'd,
112 The Posthume Projects are the last that fail'd;
113 As Heaven, whose Works are hid from Humane View,
114 Would blast our Old Designs, and bless our New.
115 And now the Baffl'd Enterprize grows stale,
116 Their Hopes decrease, and juster Doubts prevail:
117 The Unattempted Town Sings Victory,
118 And scar'd with Walls, and not with Men, we Fly;
119 Great Conduct in our safe Retreat we shew,
120 And bravely Re-imbark when none Pursue;
121 The Guns, the Ammunitions, put on Board,
122 And what we could not Plunder, we Restor'd.
123 And thus we Quit the Andalusion Shores,
124 Drencht with the Spanish Wine, and Spanish W—s.
125 With Songs of Scorn the Arragonians Sing,
126 And loud Te Deum make the Valleys Ring.
127 Uncommon Joys now raise the Hopes of Spain,
128 And Vigo does their Plate-Fleet Entertain;
129 The vast Galeons Deep-Balasted with Ore,
130 Safely reach Home to the Galitian Shore.
131 The Double Joy spreads from Madrid to Rome,
132 The English Fled, the Silver Fleet's come Home:
133 From thence it reaches to the Banks of Po,
134 And the Loud Cannons let the Germans know.
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135 The ratling Volleys tell their Short-liv'd Joys,
136 And roar Te Deum out in Smoak and Noise.
137 To Milan next it flies on Wings of Fame,
138 There the Young Monarch and his Heroes came,
139 From sad Luzara, and the Mantuan Walls,
140 To seek New Dangers, and to rescue Cales.
141 His Joy for Welcome Treasure he exprest,
142 But grieves at his good Fortune in the rest:
143 The Flying English he had wisht to stay,
144 To Crown with Conquest One Victorious Day.
145 The Priest, in high Procession shew their Joy,
146 And all the Arts of Eloquence Employ,
147 To feed his Pride of fancy'd Victories,
148 And raise his untry'd Valour to the Skies.
149 The flattering Courtiers his vain Mind possess
150 With Airy Hopes of Conquest and Success.
151 Prompt his young Thoughts to run on new Extreams,
152 And Sycophantick Pride his Heart Enflames;
153 His Native Crime springs up, his Pulse beats high,
154 With Thoughts of Universal Monarchy;
155 Fancies his Foreign Enemies supprest,
156 And Boasts too soon how he'll subdue the rest.
157 Princes, like other Men, are blind to Fate,
158 He only sees the Event who does the Cause create.
159 From hence through France the Welcome Tydings fly,
160 To mock his Ancient Sire with Mushroom Joy.
161 Raptures possess the Ambitious Heads of France,
162 And Golden Hopes their new Designs advance.
163 Now they Consult to Crush the World agen,
164 And talk of rifling Christendom for Men.
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165 New Fleets, new Armies, and new Leagues contrive,
166 And swallow Men and Nations up alive;
167 Prescribe no Bounds to their Ambitious Pride,
168 But first the Wealth, and then the World, Divide.
169 Excess of Pride to Airy Madness grows,
170 And makes Men strange Romantick things propose:
171 The Head turns round, and all the Fancy's vain,
172 And makes the World as Giddy as the Brain.
173 Men that Consult such Weighty Things as those,
174 All Possible Disasters should suppose:
175 In vain great Princes mighty things Invent,
176 While Heaven retains the Power to prevent:
177 He that to General Mischief makes Pretence,
178 Should first know how to conquer Providence.
179 Such strive in vain, and only shew Mankind,
180 How Tyrants cloath'd with Power are all enclin'd.
181 Mean while our melancholy Fleet steers Home,
182 Some griev'd for past, for future Mischiefs some:
183 Disaster swells the Blood, and Spleen the Face,
184 And ripens them for glorious Things apace.
185 With deep Regret they turn their Eyes to Spain,
186 And wish they once might Visit them again.
187 Little they dreamt that Good which Heaven prepar'd;
188 No Merit from below, no Signs from Heaven appear'd;
189 No Hints, unless from their high-ripen'd Spleen,
190 And strange ungrounded Sympathy within.
191 The silent Duke, from all Misconduct Free,
192 Alone enjoys the Calm of Honesty:
193 Fear not his Journal should be fairly shown,
194 And sighs for England's Errors, not his own.
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195 His Constant Temper's all serene and Clear;
196 First free from Guilt, and therefore free from Fear.
197 Not so the rest, for conscious Thoughts become
198 More restless now the nearer they come Home.
199 The Party-making Feuds on Board begin:
200 For People always Quarrel when they Sin.
201 Reflect with Shame upon the things mis-done,
202 And shift their Faults about from One to One,
203 Prepare Excuses, and compute their Friends,
204 And dread the Fate which their Desert attends.
205 Some wish for Storms, and curse the Wind and Sails,
206 And Dream, no doubt, of Gibbets, and of Jayls;
207 Imaginary Punishments appear,
208 And suited to their secret Guilts, their Fear,
209 Their hast'ning Fate in their own Fancies Read,
210 And few, 'tis fear'd, their Innocence can plead.
211 Then their sweet Spoils to trusty Hands convey,
212 And throw the rifl'd Gods of Spain away:
213 Disgorge that Wealth they dare not entertain,
214 And wish the Nuns their Maiden-Heads again.
215 Dismiss their Wealth for fear of Witnesses,
216 And purge their Coffers and their Consciences,
217 Cursing their Ill-got Trifles, but in vain,
218 For still the Guilt, and still the Fears, remain.
219 Tell us ye Rabbies of abstruser Sense,
220 Who jumble Fate and Fools with Providence;
221 Is this the chosen Army, this the Fleet,
222 For which Heaven's Praises sound in every Street?
223 Cou'd Heaven provide them one Occasion more,
224 Who had so Ill discharg'd themselves before?
225 That Fleet so many former Millions Lost,
226 So little had Perform'd, so much had Cost:
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227 That Fleet so often Mann'd with Knaves before,
228 That serv'd us all the War to make us Poor;
229 That Twice had made their fruitless Voyage to Spain,
230 And saw the Streights, and so came Home again:
231 Our Wooden Walls that should Defend our Trade,
232 And many a Witless Wooden Voyage ha' made;
233 How oft have they been fitted out in Vain,
234 Wasted our Money, and destroy'd our Men,
235 Betray'd our Merchants, and expos'd their Fleets,
236 And caus'd Eternal Murmurs in our Streets?
237 The Nation's Genius sure prevails above,
238 And Heaven conceals his Anger, shows his Love:
239 The Nation's Guardian Angel has prevail'd,
240 And on her Guardian Queen new Favours has entail'd.
241 Now let glad Europe in her Turn Rejoice,
242 And Sing new Triumphs with exalted Voice.
243 See the glad Post of Tidings wing'd with News,
244 With suited Speed the wondring Fleet pursues:
245 His Haste discern'd, increases their Surprize,
246 The more they wonder, and the more he flies.
247 Nor Wind, nor Seas, proportion'd Speed can bear;
248 For Joy and Hope have swifter Wings than Fear.
249 With what Surprize of Joy they meet the News!
250 Joys, that to every Vein new Spirits infuse.
251 The wild Excess in Shouts and Cries appear;
252 For Joys and Griefs are all irregular.
253 Councils of War for sake of Forms they call,
254 But Shame admits of no Disputes at all:
255 How should they differ where no Doubt can be?
256 But if they shou'd accept of Victory,
257 Whether they shou'd the great Occasion take,
258 Or baffle Heaven, and double their Mistake?
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259 Whether the naked and defenceless Prize
260 They should accept; or Heaven and that Despise?
261 Whether they shou'd Revive their Reputation;
262 Or sink it Twice, and Twice Betray the Nation?
263 Who dare the horrid Negative design?
264 Who dare the Last suggest, the First decline?
265 Envy her self; for Satan's always there,
266 And keeps his Councils with the God of War.
267 Tho' with her swelling Spleen she seem'd to burst,
268 Will'd the Design while the Event she Curs'd.
269 The Word's gone out, and now they spread the Main
270 With swelling Sails, and swelling Hopes, for Spain:
271 To double Vengeance prest where-e'er they come,
272 Resolv'd to pay the Haughty Spaniard home:
273 Resolv'd by future Conduct to atone
274 For all our past Mistakes, and all their own.
275 New Life springs up in every English Face,
276 And fits them all for Glorious Things apace:
277 The Booty some Excites, and some the Cause;
278 But more the Hope to gain their lost Applause.
279 Eager their sully'd Honour to restore,
280 Some Anger whets, some Pride and Vengeance more.
281 The lazy Minutes now pass on too slow,
282 Fancy flies faster than the Winds can blow:
283 Impatient Wishes lengthen out the Day;
284 They chide the loitering Winds for their delay.
285 But Time is Nature's faithful Messenger,
286 And brings up all we Wish, as well as all we Fear.
287 The Mists clear up, and now the Scout discries
288 The Subject of their Hopes and Victories:
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289 The wish'd for Fleets embay'd, in Harbour lye,
290 Unfit to fight, and more unfit to fly.
291 Triumphant Joy throughout the Navy flies,
292 Eccho'd from Shore with Terror and Surprize.
293 Strange Power of Noise! which at one simple sound
294 At once shall some Encourage, some Confound.
295 In vain the Lion tangl'd in the Snare
296 With Anguish roars, and rends the trembling Air:
297 'Tis vain to struggle with Almighty Fate;
298 Vain and Impossible the weak Debate.
299 The Mighty Booms the Forts resist in vain,
300 The Guns with fruitless Force in Noise complain.
301 See how the Troops intrepidly fall on!
302 Wish for more Foes, and think they fly too soon,
303 With eager Fury to their Forts pursue,
304 And think the odds of Four to One too few.
305 The Land's first Conquer'd, and the Prize attends;
306 Fate beckens in the Fleet to back their Friends:
307 Despair succeeds, they struggle now too late,
308 And soon submit to their prevailing Fate:
309 Courage is Madness when Occasion's past,
310 Death's the securest Refuge, and the last.
311 And now the rolling Flames come threatning on,
312 And mighty Streams of melted Gold run down.
313 The flaming Oar down to its Center makes,
314 To Form new Mines beneath the Oazy Lakes,
315 Here a Galleon with Spicy Drugs enflam'd,
316 In Odoriferous folds of Sulphur stream'd.
317 The Gods of Old no such Oblations knew,
318 Their Spices weak, and their Perfumes but few.
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319 The frighted Spaniards from their Treasure fly,
320 Loth to forsake their Wealth, but loth to Die.
321 Here a vast Carrack flies while none pursue,
322 Bulg'd on the Shore by her Distracted Crew:
323 There like a mighty Mountain she appears,
324 And groans beneath the Golden Weight she bears.
325 Conquest perverts the Property of Friend,
326 And makes Men Ruin what they can't Defend:
327 Some blow their Treasure up into the Air,
328 With all the wild Excesses of Despair.
329 Strange Fate! that War such odd Events shou'd have;
330 Friends would destroy, and Enemies would save:
331 Others their Safety to their Wealth Prefer,
332 And mix some small Discretion with their Fear.
333 Life's the best Gift that Nature can bestow;
334 The first that we receive, the last which we forego:
335 And he that's vainly Prodigal of Blood,
336 Forfeits his Sense to do his Cause no good.
337 All Desparation's the Effect of Fear;
338 Courage is Temper, Valour can't Despair:
339 And now the Victory's compleatly gain'd;
340 No Ships to Conquer now, no Foes remain'd.
341 The mighty Spoils exceed whate'er was known,
342 That Vanquish'd ever lost, or Victor won:
343 So great, if Fame shall Future Times remind,
344 They'll think she Lies, and Libels all Mankind.
345 Well may the Pious Queen New Anthems raise,
346 Sing her own Fortunes, and Her Maker's Praise;
347 Invite the Nation willing Thanks to pay;
348 And well may all the Mighty Ones Obey.
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349 So may they sing, be always so preserv'd,
350 By Grace unwish'd, and Conquest undeserv'd.
351 Now let us Welcome Home the Conquering Fleet,
352 And all their well aton'd Mistakes forget:
353 Such high Success shou'd all Resentments drown'd,
354 Nothing but Joy and Welcome should be found.
355 No more their past Miscariages Reprove,
356 But bury all in Gratitude and Love;
357 Let their high Conduct have a just Regard,
358 And meaner Merit meet a kind Reward.
359 But now what Fruits of Victory remain?
360 To Heaven what Praise? What Gratitude to Man?
361 Let France sing Praise for Shams of Victories,
362 And Mock their Maker with Religious Lies:
363 But England blest with thankful Hearts shall raise,
364 For mighty Conquests, mighty Songs of Praise.
365 She needs no false Pretences to Deceive:
366 What all Men see, all Men must needs believe.
367 Our Joy can hardly run into Excess,
368 The well known Subject all our Foes confess:
369 We can't desire more, they can't pretend to less.
370 ANNE, like her Great Progenitor, sings Praise:
371 Like her she Conquers, and like her she Prays;
372 Like her she Graces and Protects the Throne,
373 And counts the Lands Prosperity her own:
374 Like her, and long like her, be Bless'd her Reign,
375 Crown'd with new Conquests, and more Fleets from Spain.
376 See now the Royal Chariot comes amain,
377 With all the willing Nation in her Train,
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378 With humble Glory, and with solemn Grace,
379 Queen in her Eyes, and Christian in her Face.
380 With Her, Her represented Subjects join;
381 And when She Prays, th' whole Nation says, Amen.
382 With Her, in Stalls the Illustrious Nobles sat,
383 The Cherubims and Seraphims of State:
384 ANNE like a Cornet in the Center shone,
385 And they like Stars that circumfere the Sun.
386 She Great in them, and they as Great in Her;
387 Sure Heaven will such Illustrious Praises hear.
388 The crouding Millions Hearty Blessings pour:
389 Saint Paul ne'er saw but one such Day before.
FINIS.

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Title (in Source Edition): THE SPANISH DESCENT. A POEM.
Author: Daniel Defoe
Themes: monarchy (heads of state); war
Genres:

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Source edition

Defoe, Daniel, 1661?-1731. The Spanish descent. A poem. By the author of The true-born Englishman. London: printed in the year, 1703, pp. 3-16. 16p.; 8⁰. (ESTC N23890; Foxon D152; OTA K013825.000)

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The text has been typographically modernized, but without any silent modernization of spelling, capitalization, or punctuation. The source of the text is given and all editorial interventions have been recorded in textual notes. Based on the electronic text originally produced by the TCP project, this ECPA text has been edited to conform to the recommendations found in Level 5 of the Best Practices for TEI in Libraries version 4.0.0.