May he live long enough to see them all
Dark shadows cast, and as his palace tall!
Methinks I see the love that shall be made,
The lovers walking in that amorous shade,
The gallants dancing by the river side;
They bathe in summer and in winter slide.
Methinks I hear the music in the boats,
And the loud echo which returns the notes,
While overhead a flock of new sprung fowl
Hangs in the air, and does the sun control,
Dark'ning the sky: they hover o'er, and shrowd
The wanton sailors with a feather'd cloud.
Beneath a shoal of silver fishes glides,
And plays about the gilded barges' sides:
The ladies angling in the crystal lake,
Feast on the waters with the prey they take:
At once victorious with their lines and eyes,
They make the fishes and the men their prize.
A thousand Cupids on the billows ride,
And sea-nymphs enter with the swelling tide;
From Thetis sent as spies, to make report,
And tell the wonders of her sovereign's court.
All that can, living, feed the greedy eye,
Or dead, the palate, here you may descry:
The choicest things that furnish'd Noah's ark,
Or Peter's sheet, inhabiting this Park;
All with a border of rich fruit-trees crown'd,
Whose loaded branches hide the lofty mound.
Such various ways the spacious alleys lead,
My doubtful Muse knows not what path to tread.
Yonder, the harvest of cold months laid up,
Gives a fresh coolness to the royal cup:
There ice, like crystal firm, and never lost,
Tempers hot July with December's frost
Winter's dark prison, whence he cannot fly,
Though the warm spring, his enemy, draws nigh.
Strange! that extremes should thus preserve the
High on the Alps, or in deep caves below. [snow,
Here a well-polish'd Mall gives us the joy
To see our Prince his matchless force employ;
His manly posture and his graceful mien,
Vigour and youth, in all his motions seen;
His shape so lovely, and his limbs so strong,
Confirm our hopes we shall obey him long.
No sooner has he touch'd the flying ball,
But 'tis already more than half the Mall;
And such a fury from his arm has got,
As from a smoking culverin it were shot.
Near this my Muse, what most delights her, sees A living gallery of aged trees;
Bold sons of Earth, that thrust their arms so high,
As if once more they would invade the sky.
In such green palaces the first kings reign'd,
Slept in their shades, and angels entertain❜d;
With such old counsellors they did advise,
And by frequenting sacred groves grew wise.
Free from the' impediments of light and noise,
Man, thus retir'd, his nobler thoughts employs.
Here Charles contrives the ordering of his states,
Here he resolves his neighbouring princes' fates;
What nation shall have peace, where war be made,
Determin'd is in this oraculous shade;
The world, from India to the frozen North,
Concern'd in what this solitude brings forth.
His fancy objects from his view receives;
The prospect thought and contemplation gives.
That seat of empire here salutes his eye,
To which three kingdoms do themselves apply;
The structure by a prelate ' rais'd, Whitehall,
Built with the fortune of Rome's Capitol :
Both, disproportion'd to the present state
Of their proud founders, were approv'd by Fate.
From hence he does that antique pile2 behold,
Where royal heads receive the sacred gold:
It gives them crowns, and does their ashes keep;
There made like gods, like mortals there they sleep:
Making the circle of their reign complete,
Those suns of Empire! where they rise they set.
When others fell, this standing did presage
The crown should triumph over popular rage:
Hard by that House 3 where all our ills were shap'd
The' auspicious temple stood, and yet escap'd.
So snow on Etna does unmelted lie,
Whence rolling flames and scatter'd cinders fly;
The distant country in the ruin shares ;
What falls from heav'n the burning mountain spares.
Next that capacious Hall+ he sees, the room
Where the whole nation does for justice come;
Under whose large roof flourishes the gown,
And judges grave on high tribunals frown.
Here, like the people's pastor, he does go,
His flock subjected to his view below;
On which reflecting in his mighty mind,
No private passion does indulgence find:
The pleasures of his youth suspended are,
And made a sacrifice to public care.
Here, free from court compliances, he walks,
And with himself, his best adviser, talks,
How peaceful olives may his temples shade,
For mending laws, and for restoring trade:
1 Cardinal Wolsey.
3 House of Commons.
2 Westminster Abbey.
4 Westminster Hall.
Or how his brows may be with laurel charg'd,
For nations conquer'd, and our bounds enlarg'd.
Of ancient prudence here he ruminates,
Of rising kingdoms and of falling states:
What ruling arts gave great Augustus fame,
And how Alcides purchas'd such a name.
His eyes, upon his native palace 5 bent,
Close by, suggest a greater argument.
His thoughts rise higher, when he does reflect
On what the world may from that star expect
Which at his birth appear'd, to let us see
Day, for his sake, could with the night agree:
A prince on whom such different lights did smile,
Born the divided world to reconcile!
Whatever Heav'n, or high extracted blood
Could promise, or foretel, he will make good;
Reform these nations, and improve them more
Than this fair Park, from what it was before.
INVASION AND DEFEAT OF THE
TURKS,
THE modern Nimrod, with a safe delight Pursuing beasts, that save themselves by flight, Grown proud, and weary of his wonted game, Would Christians chase, and sacrifice to fame. A prince with eunuchs and the softer sex Shut up so long, would warlike nations vex,
Provoke the German, and, neglecting Heav'u,
Forget the truce for which his oath was giv'n.
His Grand Visier, presuming to invest
The chief imperial city of the west ',
With the first charge compell'd in haste to rise,
His treasure, tents, and cannon, left a prize:
The standard lost, and janizaries slain,
Render the hopes he gave his master vain.
The flying Turks, that bring the tidings home,
Renew the memory of his father's doom;
And his guard murmurs, that so often brings
Down from the throne their unsuccessful kings.
The trembling Sultan's forc'd to expiate
His own ill conduct by another's fate:
The Grand Visier, a tyrant, though a slave,
A fair example to his master gave;
He Bassas' heads, to save his own, made fly,
And now, the Sultan to preserve, must die.
The fatal bowstring was not in his thought,
When, breaking truce, he so unjustly fought;
Made the world tremble with a numerous host,
And of undoubted victory did boast.
Strangled he lies! yet seems to cry aloud,
To warn the mighty, and instruct the proud,
That of the great, neglecting to be just,
Heav'n in a moment makes an heap of dust.
The Turks so low, why should the Christians lose Such an advantage of their barbarous foes? Neglect their present ruin to complete, Before another Solyman they get?
Too late they would with shame, repenting, dread That numerous herd, by such a lion led:
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