AN ODE, &c. Matthew Prior Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
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Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. R8273 A55910 Prior, Matthew, 1664-1721. An ode in imitation of the second ode of the third book of Horace by Mr. Prior. London Printed for Jacob Tonson ... 1692 pp. []-12. 12 p.

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AN ODE , &c. I. HOW long , deluded Albion , wilt Thou lie Augustam , amici , Pauperiem pati Robustus acri Militiâ Puer Condiscat , & Parthos feroces Vexet eques metuendus hastâ . In the Lethargic Sleep , the sad Repose , By which thy close , thy constant Enemy , Has softly lull'd Thee to Thy Woes ? Or Wake , degenerate Isle , or Cease to own What Thy Old Kings in Gallic Camps have done ; The Spoils They brought Thee back , the Crowns They won . WILLIAM , ( so Fate requires ) again is Arm'd ; Thy Father to the Field is gone : Again MARIA Weeps Her absent Lord ; For Thy Repose content to Rule alone . Are Thy Enervate Sons not yet Alarm'd ? When WILLIAM Fights , dare they look tamely on , So slow to get their Ancient Fame Restor'd , As nor to melt at Beauties Tears , nor follow Valours Sword ? II . See the Repenting Isle Awakes , Her Vicious Chains the generous Goddess breaks : The Foggs around Her Temples are Dispell'd ; Abroad She Looks , and Sees Arm'd Belgia stand Prepar'd to meet their common Lords Command ; Her Lions Roaring by Her Side , Her Arrows in Her Hand ; And Blushing to have been so long withheld , Weeps off Her Crime , and hastens to the Field : Vitamque sub Dio & trepidis agat In rebus . Henceforth Her Youth shall be inur'd to bear Hazardous Toil and Active War : To march beneath the Dog-Stars raging Heat , Patient of Summers Drought , and Martial Sweat . And only Grieve in Winters Camps to find , Its Days too short for Labours They design'd : All Night beneath hard heavy Arms to Watch ; All Day to Mount the Trench , to Storm the Breach ; And all the rugged Paths to tread , Where WILLIAM and His Virtue lead . III . Est & fideli tuta silentio Merces , &c. Silence is the Soul of War ; Deliberate Counsel must prepare The Mighty Work , which Valour must compleat : Thus WILLIAM Rescued , thus Preserves the State ; Thus Teaches Us to Think and Dare ; As whilst his Cannon just prepar'd to Breath Avenging Anger and swift Death , In the try'd Mettle the close Dangers glow , And now too late the Dying Foe Perceives the Flame , yet cannot ward the Blow ; So whilst in WILLIAM's Breast ripe Counsels lie , Secret and sure as Brooding Fate , No more of His Design appears Than what Awakens Gallia's Fears ; And ( though Guilts Eye can sharply penetrate ) Distracted Lewis can discry Only a long unmeasur'd Ruine nigh . IV . On Norman Coasts and Banks of frighted Seine , Lo ! the Impending Storms begin : Britannia safely through her Masters Sea Plows up her Victorious Way . The French Salmoneus throws his Bolts in vain , Whilst the true Thunderer asserts the Main : 'Tis done ! to Shelves and Rocks his Fleets retire , Swift Victory in Vengeful Flames Burns down the Pride of their Presumptuous Names : They run to Shipwrack to avoid our Fire , And the torn Vessels that regain their Coast Are but sad Marks to shew the rest are lost : All this the Mild , the Beauteous , Queen has done , And WILLIAM's softer half shakes Lewis' Throne : MARIA does the Sea command Whilst Gallia flies her Husband's Arms by Land , So , the Sun absent , with full sway , the Moon Governs the Isles , and rules the Waves alone ; So Iuno thunders when her Iove is gone . Iö Britannia ! loose thy Oceans Chains Whilst Russell strikes the Blow Thy Queen ordains : Thus Rescued , thus Rever'd , for ever stand , And bless the Counsel , and Reward the Hand , Iö Britannia ! thy MARIA Reigns . V. From MARY's Conquests , and the Rescued Main , Let France look forth to Sambre's armed Shore , And boast her Joy for WILLIAM's Death no more . He lives , let France confess , the Victor lives : Her Triumphs for his Death were vain , And spoke her Terrour of his Life too plain . — Illum ex maenibus hosticis Matrona bellantis Tyranni Prospiciens , & adulta virgo Suspiret , eheu ! ne rudis agminum Sponsus lacessat regius asperam Tactu leonem quem cruenta Per medias rapit ira Caedes . The mighty years begin , the day draws nigh , In which That One of Lewis' many Wives , Who by the baleful force of guilty Charms , Has long enthraul'd Him in Her wither'd Arms , Shall o're the Plains from distant Towers on high Cast a-round her mournful Eye , And with Prophetick Sorrow cry : Why does my ruin'd Lord retard his flight ? Why does despair provoke his Age to fight ? As well the Wolf may venture to engage The angry Lyons generous rage ; The ravenous Vultur , and the Bird of Night , As safely tempt the stooping Eagles flight , As Lewis to unequal Arms defy Yon' Heroe , crown'd with blooming Victory Just triumphing o're Rebel rage restrain'd , And yet unbreath'd from Battels gain'd . See ! all yon' dusty Fields quite cover'd o're With Hostil Troops , and ORANGE at their Head , ORANGE destin'd to compleat The great Designs of labouring Fate , ORANGE the Name that Tyrants Dread : He comes , our ruin'd Empire is no more , Down , like the Persian , goes the Gallic Throne , Darius flies , young Ammon urges on . VI . Now from the dubious Battel's mingled heat Let Fear look back , and stretch her hasty Wing , Dulce & decorum est pro patriâ mori , Mors & fugacem prosequitur Virum Nec parcit imbellis Iurentae Poplitibus timidoque tergo . Impatient to secure a base retreat : Let the pale Coward leave his Wounded King , For the vile privilege to breath , To live with shame in dread of glorious Death . In vain : for Fate has swifter Wings than fear , She follows hard , and strikes Him in the rear , Dying and Mad the Traytor bites the ground , His Back transfix'd with a Dishonest Wound ; Whilst through the fiercest Troops , and thickest Press , Virtue carries on Success ; Whilst equal Heaven guards the distinguisht brave , And Armies cannot hurt whom Angels save . VII . Virtue to Verse immortal Lustre gives , Virtus repulsae nescia sordidae Intaminatis fulget honoribus Nec ponit aut sumit secures Arbitrio popularis aurae . Each by the other's mutual Friendship lives ; Aeneas suffer'd , and Achilles fought , The Heroes acts enlarg'd the Poets thought , Or Virgil's Majesty , and Homer's Rage Had ne're like lasting Nature vanquish'd Age ; Whilst Lewis then his rising Terrour drowns With Drums Alarms and Trumpets Sounds , Whilst hid in arm'd Retreats and guarded Towns , From Danger as from Honour far , He bribes close Murder against open War : In vain you Gallic Muses strive With labour'd Verse to keep his Fame alive , Your mouldring Monuments in vain ye raise On the weak Basis of the Tyrants Praise : Your Songs are sold , your Numbers are Prophane , 'Tis Incense to an Idol given , Meat offer'd to Prometheus' Man , That had no Soul from Heaven . Against his Will you chain your frighted King On rapid Rhine's divided Bed ; And Mock your Heroe , whilst ye Sing The Wounds for which he never bled ; Falshood does poyson on your Praise defuse , And Lewis' fear gives Death to Boileau's Muse . VIII . On it's own Worth True Majesty is rear'd , And Virtue is her own Reward , With solid Beams and Native Glory bright , She neither Darkness dreads , nor covets Light ; True to Her self , and fix't to inborn Laws , Nor sunk by spight , nor lifted by Applause , She from Her settled Orb looks calmly down , On Life or Death , a Prison or a Crown . When bound in double Chains poor Belgia lay To foreign Arms , and inward strife a Prey , Whilst One Good Man buoy'd up Her sinking State , And Virtue labour'd against Fate ; When fortune basely with ambition joyn'd , And all was conquer'd but the Patriots mind , When Storms let loose , and raging Seas Just ready the torn Vessel to o'rewhelm , Forc'd not the faithful Pilot from his Helm , Nor all the Syren Songs of future Peace , And dazling Prospect of a promis'd Crown , Could lure his stubborn Virtue down ; But against Charms , and Threats , and Hell , He stood , To that which was severely good ; Then , had no Trophies justified his Fame , No Poet blest his Song with NASSAW's Name , Virtue alone did all that Honour bring , And Heaven as plainly pointed out The KING , As when He at the Altar stood In all his Types and Robes of Power , Whilst at His Feet Religious Britain bow'd , And own'd him next to what We there Adore . IX . Say joyful Maese , and Boin's Victorious Flood , ( For each has mixt his Waves with Royal Blood ) When WILLIAM's Armies past , did He retire , Or view from far the Battel's distant Fire ? Could He believe His Person was too dear ? Or use His Greatness to conceal His Fear ? Could Prayers or Sighs the dauntless Heroe move ? Arm'd with Heaven's Justice , and His People's Love , Through the first Waves He wing'd His Vent'rous Way , And on the Adverse Shore arose , ( Ten thousand flying Death's in vain oppose ) Like the great Ruler of the Day , With Strength and Swiftness mounting from the Seas : Like Him all Day He Toil'd , but long in Night The God had eas'd His wearied light , 'Ere Vengeance left the stubborn Foes , Or WILLIAM's Labours found repose . When His Troops falter'd , stept not He between , Restor'd the dubious Fight again , Mark'd out the Coward that durst fly , And led the fainting Brave to Victory ? Still as she fled Him , did He not o'ertake , Her doubtful course , still brought Her Bleeding back ? By His keen Sword did not the Boldest fall ? Was He not King , Commander , Souldier , All — ? His Dangers such , as with becoming Dread , His Subjects yet Un-Born shall Weep to Read ; And were not those the only Days that ere The Pious Prince refus'd to hear His Friends Advices , or His Subjects Prayer . X. Where e're old Rhine his fruitful Water turns , Or fills his Vassals Tributary Urns ; To Belgia's sav'd Dominions , and the Sea , Whose righted Waves rejoice in WILLIAM's sway . Is there a Town where Children are not Taught , Here Holland Prosper'd , for here ORANGE Fought , Through Rapid Waters , and through flying Fire : Here rush'd the Prince , Here made whole France retire . — By different Nations be this Valour blest , In different Languages confest , And then let Shannon Speak the rest : Let Shannon Speak , how on her wond'ring Shore , When Conquest hov'ring on his Arms did wait , And only ask'd some Lives to Bribe her o're . The God-like Man , the more than Conqueror , With high Contempt sent back the specious Bait , And Scorning Glory at a Price too great , With so much Power such Piety did joyn , As made a Perfect Virtue Soar A Pitch unknown to Man before , And lifted Shannon's Waves o'er those of Boyne . XI . Nor do his Subjects only share The Prosp'rous Fruits of His Indulgent Reign ; His Enemies approve the Pious War , Which , with their Weapon , takes away their Chain : More than His Sword , His Goodness strikes His Foes ; They Bless His Arms , and Sigh they must oppose . Justice and Freedom on his Conquests wait , And 'tis for Man's Delight that He is Great : Succeeding Times shall with long Joy contend , If He were more a Victor , or a Friend : So much His Courage and His Mercy strive , He Wounds , to Cure ; and Conquers , to Forgive . XII . Ye Heroes , that have Fought Your Countries Cause , Redress'd Her Injuries , or Form'd Her Laws , To my Advent'rous Song just Witness bear , Assist the Pious Muse , and hear Her Swear , That 'tis no Poet's Thought , no Flight of Youth , But solid Story , and severest Truth , That WILLIAM Treasures up a greater Name , Than any Country , any Age , can Boast : Virtus recludens immeritis Mori Coelum , negatâ tentat iter viâ Coetusque vulgares & udam Spernit humum fugiente pennâ . And all that Ancient Stock of Fame He did from His Fore-Fathers take , He has improv'd , and gives with Interest back ; And in His Constellation does unite Their scatter'd Rays of Fainter Light : Above or Envy's lash , or Fortunes Wheel , That settled Glory shall for ever dwell Above the Rowling Orbs , and common Sky , Where nothing comes that e're shall Die . XIII . Where Roves the Muse ? Where thoughtless to return Is her short liv'd Vessel Born , By Potent Winds too subject to be tost ? And in the Sea of WILLIAM's Praises lost ? Nor let her tempt that Deep , nor make the Shore Where our abandon'd Youth She sees Shipwrackt in Luxury , and lost in Ease ; Whom nor Britannia's Danger can alarm , Nor WILLIAM's Exemplary Virtue warm : Tell 'em howe'er the King can yet Forgive Their Guilty Sloath , their Homage yet Receive , And let their wounded Honour live : But sure and sudden be their just Remorse ; Swift be their Virtues rise , and strong its Course ; — Saepe Diespiter Neglectus incesto addidit Integrum Rario antecedentem Scelestum Deseruit Pede poena Claudo . For though for certain Years and destin'd Times , Merit has lain confus'd with Crimes ; Though Iove seem'd Negligent of human Cares , Nor Scourg'd our Follies , nor return'd our Prayers . His Justice now Demands the equal Scales , Sedition is Supprest , and Truth Prevails : Fate it's great Ends by slow Degrees Attains , And Europe is Redeem'd , and WILLIAM Reigns . FINIS .