To fee the Prince with Danger mov'd no more,
Than with the Pleasures of their Court before.
God-like his Courage feem'd, whom nor Delight
Cou'd foften, nor the Face of Death affright:
Next to the Pow'r of making Tempests cease,
Was in that Storm to have fo calm a Peace.
Great Maro cou'd no greater Tempest feign,
When the loud Winds ufurping on the Main
For angry Juno labour'd to deftroy
The hated Reliques of confounded Troy:
His bold Eneas, on like Billows toft,
In a tall Ship, and all his Country loft,
Diffolves with Fear, and both his Hands upheld,
Proclaims them Happy whom the Greeks had quell'a
In Honourable Flight: Our Hero set
In a fmall Shallop, Fortune in his Debt,
So near a hope of Crowns and Scepters, more
Than ever Friam, when he flourish'd, wore,
His Loins yet full of ungot Princes, all
His Glory in the Bud, lets nothing fall
That argues Fear; if any Thought annoys
The Gallant Youth, 'tis Love's untafted Joys,
And dear Remembrance of that fatal Glance,
For which he lately Pawn'd his Heart in France;
Where he had feen a brighter Nymph than fhe
That fprung out of his prefent Foe, the Sea.
That Noble Ardor, more than mortal Fire,
The Conquer'd Ocean could not make expire,
Nor angry Thetis, raise her Waves above
Th' Heroick Prince's Courage, or his Love;
'Twas Indignation, and not Fear he felt,
The Shrine fhou'd perifh, where that Image dwelt.
Ah Love forbid! the Nobleft of thy Train
Shou'd not furvive to let her know his Pain:
Who not his Peril minding, nor his Flame,
Is entertain'd with fome lefs ferious Game
Among the bright Nymphs of the Gallick Court;
All highly born, obfequious to her Sport:
They Rofes fcem, which in their early Pride,
But half reveal, and half their Beauties hide;
She the glad Morning, which her Beams does throw
Upon their fmiling Leaves, and gilds them fo;
Like bright Aurora, whofe refulgent Ray
Foretels the Fervour of enfuing Day,
And warns the Shepherd with his Flocks retreat
To leafie Shadows, from the threatned Heat.
From Cupid's Strings, of many Shafts that fled,
Wing'd with thofe Plumes which noble Fame had fhed
As through the wondring World fhe flew, and told
Of his Adventures haughty, brave and bold,
Some had already touch'd the Royal Maid,
But Love's first Summons feldom are obey'd:
Light was the Wound, the Prince's Care unknown,
She might not, would not, yet reveal her own.
His Glorious Name had fo poffeft her Ears,
That with Delight thofe antique Tales fhe hears
Of Fafon, Thefeus, and fuch Worthies Old,
As with his Story best resemblance hold.
And now the views, as on the Wall it hung,
What old Mufaus fo Divinely fung:
Which Art with Life and Love did fo inspire,
That the difcerns, and favours that Defire,
Which there provokes th'advent'rous Youth to swim,
And in Leander's danger pities him:
Whofe not new Love alone, but Fortune seeks
To frame his Story like that amorous Greek's.
For from the Stem of fome good Ship appears
A friendly Light, which moderates their Fears:
New Courage from reviving Hope they take,
And climbing o'er the Waves, that Taper make;
On which the Hope of all their Lives depends,
As his on that fair Hero's hand extends.
The Ship at Anchor, like a fixed Rock,
Breaks the proud Billows, which her large Sides knock;
Whofe Rage reftrained foaming higher fwells,
And from her Port the weary Barge repels,
Threatning to make her, forced out again,
Repeat the dangers of the troubled Main.
Twice was the Cable hurl'd in vain; the Fates
Wou'd not be moved for our Sifter States:
For England is the third fuccessful throw,
And then the Genius of that Land they know :
Whofe Prince must be (as their own Books devife)
Lord of the Scene, where now his Danger lies.
Well fung the Roman Bard; all Human things
Of dearest value hang on flender Strings.
O fee the then fole Hope, and in defign
Of Heav'n our Joy, supported by a Line;
Which for that inftant was Heav'n's Care above;
The Chain that's fixed to the Throne of Jove;
On which the Fabrick of our World depends,-
One Link diffolv'd, the whole Creation ends..
Of His Majefty's receiving the News of the Duke of Buckingham's Death.
O earnest with thy God, can no new Care,,
No fenfe of Danger interrupt thy Prayer?
The Sacred Wrestler 'till a Bleffing giv❜n,
Quits not his hold, but halting conquers Heav'n::
Nor was the Stream of thy Devotion stopp'd;
When from the Body fuch a Limb was lopp'd,
As to thy prefent State was no less Maim;
Tho' thy wife Choice has fince repair'd the fame..
Bold Homer durft not fo great Virtue feign
In his best pattern; of Patroclus flain
With fuch Amazement as weak Mothers ufe,
And frantick Gesture, he receives the News:
Yet fell his Darling by th'impartial chance
Of War, impos'd by Royal Hector's Lance;
Thine in full Peace, and by a vulgar Hand
Torn from thy Bofom, left his high Command.
The famous Painter cou'd allow no place
For private Sorrow in a Prince's Face:
Yet, that his piece might not exceed Belief,
He caft a Veil upon supposed Grief.
'Twas want of fuch a Precedent as this,
Made the Old Heathens frame their Gods amifs.
Their Phoebus fhou'd not act a fonder part
For their fair Boy, than he did for his Heart;
Nor blame for Hyacinthus' Fate his own
That kept from him wish'd Death, hadft thou been known.
He that with thine fhall weigh good David's Deeds,
Shall find his Paffion, not his Love, exceeds.
He curs'd the Mountains where his brave Friend dy'd,
But let falfe Ziba with his Heir divide:
Where thy Immortal Love to thy best Friends,
Like that of Heav'n, upon their Seed defcends.
Such huge extreams inhabit thy great Mind,
God-like unmov'd, and yet like Woman kind.
Which of the ancient Poets had not brought
Our Charles's Pedigree from Heav'n, and taught
How fome bright Dame comprest by mighty Fove
Produc'd this mix'd Divinity and Love?
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