Bell's Edition

Because it drains them when it comes about,
And therefore is a tax they seldom pay,
XXVIII.

From this high spring our foreign conquests flow,
Which yet more glorious triumphs do portend;
Since their commencement to his arms they owe,
If springs as high as fountains may ascend.
XXIX.

He made us free-men of the Continent,
Whom Nature did like captives treat before;
To nobler praise the English lion sent,

And taught him first in Belgian walks to roar.
XXX.

That old unquestion'd pirate of the land,

Proud Rome, with dread the fate of Dunkirk heard,
And, trembling, wish'd behind more Alps to stand,
Although an Alexander were her guard.
XXXI,

By his command we boldly cross'd the line;
And bravely fought where southern stars arise;
We trac'd the far-fetch'd gold unto the mine,
And that which brib'd our fathers made our prize.
XXXII.

Such was our Prince; yet own'd a soul above
The highest acts it could produce to show:
Thus poor mechanic arts in public move,
Whilst the deep secrets beyond practice go.

XXXIII.

Nor dy'd he when his ebbing fame went less,

But when fresh laurels courted him to live ; He seem❜d but to prevent some new success, As if above what triumphs earth could give. XXXIV.

His latest victories still thickest came,

As near the centre motion doth increase; Till he, press'd down by his own weighty name, Did, like the Vestal, under spoils decrease. XXXV.

But first the Ocean as a tribute sent

That giant prince of all her watʼry herd; And th' isle, when her protecting genius went, Upon his obsequies loud sighs conferr’d. XXXVI.

No civil broils have since his death arose,
But faction now by habit does cbey;
And wars have that respect for his repose,
As winds for halcyons when they breed at sea.
XXXVII.

His ashes in a peaceful urn shall rest,

His name a great example stands to show How strangely high endeavours may be blest, Where piety and valour jointly go.

WRITTEN IN THE YEAR M.DC.LXII.

As needy gallants, in the scriv'ners hands,
Court the rich knaves that gripe theirmortgag'd lands,
The first fat buck of all the seasons sent,

And keeper takes no fee in compliment;
The dotage of some Englishmen is such,
To fawn on those who ruin them, the Dutch.
They shall have all rather than make a war
With those who of the same religion are.
The Straits, the Guinea-trade, the herrings too;
Nay, to keep friendship, they shall pickle you.
Some are resolv'd not to find out the cheat,
But, cuckold-like, love them that do the feat.
What injuries soe'er upon us fall,

Yet still the same religion answers all.
Religion wheeled us to Civil war,

Drew Englishblood, and Dutchmen'snowwould spare.
Be gull'd no longer; for you'll find it true,
They have no more religion, faith! than you.
Int'rest's the god they worship in their State,
And we, I take it, have not much of that.
Well monarchies may own reilgion's name,
But states are atheists in their very frame.
They share a sin; and such proportions fall,
That, like a stink, 'tis nothing to them all.
Volume I.

Think on their rapine, falsehood, cruelty,

And that what once they were they still would be.
To one well-born th' affront is worse and more,
When he's abus'd and baffled by a boor.
With an ill grace the Dutch their mischiefs do;
They've both ill nature and ill manners too."
Well may they boast themselves an ancient nation,
For they were bred ere manners were in fashion;
And their new Commonwealth has set them free
Only from honour and civility.

Venetians do not more uncouthly ride,

Than did their lumber State mankind bestride.
Their sway became 'em with as ill a mien,
As their own paunches swell above their chin.
Yet is their empire no true growth but humour,
And only two kings' touch can cure the tumour.
As Cato fruits of Afric did display,

Let us before our eyes their Indies lay;
All loyal English will like him conclude,
Let Cæsar live, and Carthage be subdu'd.