Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n
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A34388
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Carmen natalitium to His Highness the Duke of Glocester, an heroick poem.
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1700
(1700)
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Wing C597A; ESTC R26580
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5,755
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18
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CARMEN NATALITIUM TO HIS HIGHNESS THE Duke of Glocester AN HEROICK POEM Tu modo nascenti Puero quo ferrea primum Desinet ac toto surget gens aurea mundo Casta fave Lucina Virg. LONDON Printed for A. Baldwin in Warwick-lane 1700. TO HIS HIGHNESS THE Duke of Glocester URANIA Fairest of the Sacred Nine Let this Blest MORN wake thy whole Choir Divine A Subject so sublime enough t' inspire And singly tune the whole Phaebaean Lyre Not the Wing'd Courser when he struck your Fount To more Exalted Heights could ever mount A Theme to Warm the very God of Day And Brighten ev'n th' Apollinary Ray. Yes GLORY GLORY Thou' rt the Mighty Theme GLORY of Heav'n the Richest Borrow'd Beam But e'er the Sallies of the Muse essay To circuit thy Vnbounded Empire's Sway Let me invoke a Pow'r that best can stretch His Heav'nly View to that Expanded Reach Thou Twin-fac'd God who op'st thy Temple Doors When the Sky lours and War 's rough Tempest roars Where th' Arm'd Destroyers in their bending Steel With their uplifted pondrous Gauntlets kneel But when the Bloody Flag hangs out no more No Halcyon Choirs do in Thy Walls adore Thy Gates are all baâ—r'd up No fragrant Air Of Rosy Sweets thy Shrines no Garlands wear Flutes Timbrels Songs of Peace are banish'd there Great JANVS thou whose Double Front looks o'er Whole Ages all Behind thee and Before TIME's great Surveyor thou whose Prospects spread Thro' that vast Airy Wild Th' Vnborn and Dead Airy indeed when we can only call The Present Ours and Moments are our All. Beyond the narrow Now thou wander'st o'er Either what Is not yet or Is no more Hard-doom'd Mortality if this be all Thy boasted Footing on the Mighty Ball. If MAN thy Fabrick on this Basis stands And this short Grasp is all thy Pow'r commands Oh thou poor Lord of Worlds this Frame Divine All built for Thee and yet so Little Thine So Little No Thou 'st All. Add the Great SOUL To th' Human Span and then outreach the Pole Then the true Lord of Worlds th' Heroick Mind Builds Thrones so Lasting reigns so Unconfin'd Though short our Glass and number'd Minutes told The Sands of FAME run Inexhausted GOLD True GLORY never sleeps in Beds of Clay Her Flow'ry Garlands ever fresh and gay While Ages make but one long Coronation-Day For Boundless GLORY the vast Round wants Room She fills the whole Great Three Past Present and to Come If GLORY then Vrania plumes thy Wing And thy Exalted Airs must GLOC'STER sing Take the fair Prospect of his Beauteous MORN The Infant Glories which that BROW adorn And where the Phosphor does such Light display Leave the World Judge of the Meridian Day When Albion's SUN Ecclips'd Great NASSAV rod With Drums and Trumpets Sounds to aid the Labouring God Did Light from her Invading Shades restore And bid our Laws and Altars shine once more 'T was here the Great IMMORTAL to survey The glorious Toyl of that propitious Day As at his own Great Six Days Labour stood He view'd the Finish'd Work and saw 't was Good But can Great NASSAV finish all Ah no. Can single Hands thro' Endless Labours go To raise Immortal Structures to their Height The Founder does but half the Work of Fate T' uphold the Pile He rais'd Designs so Great A Line of WORTHIES only can compleat That Work THOU then Vnborn Thy Stars decree Th' Almighty Consult sate and call'd forth THEE Born for these Ends the Scheme of Fate thus laid When Thee the HERO His Adoption made At the Great FONT He promis'd in Thy Name Not half the Wonders of Thy Race of Fame Far short of what th' All-knowing Pow'rs foresee In the Great Cause of Heav'n's reserv'd for Thee Whilst for this Fruit this STEM of Britain springs The Veins of HERO's and the Seed of KINGS To raise this BIRTH to Divine Pallas Charge His Guardian Pow'rs assign a Trust so large Glitt'ring in Arms her Nursing Hand she brings Whilst ev'n the Gauntlet holds the Leading-strings Bright Armour here her Nurseries Delight Her Gorgon and Medusa Charm not Fright T' her Cradle-Care the Martial Goddess comes And only Lulls Him with her Steel and Plumes No fond Lucina's Song no tinkling Toy The Musick of the WAR must Rock the BOY Not to His Sleep but to His waking Joy MARS ev'n in Miniature His Soul inspires He feels a Heat tho' but from Lambent Fires Ev'n when so Young e'er th' Intellectual Light Could furnish Reason for th' Heroick Flight Long e'er slow Nature to those Heights could rise Visions of GLORY play'd before His Eyes So Early warm'd with what so Brightly shin'd With that Career his active Genius ran That leaping o'er an Age He left behind He Slept the INFANT but He Dreamt the MAN HERO's like Poets are not made but Born Valour 's true Heat warms ev'n their Dawning Morn Thus young Alcides when his Hissing Foes With their fork'd Vengeance to his Cradle rose His first Immortal Infant Sally makes Undaunted he attacks the crested Snakes Grasps their crusht Throats in his Victorious Hands And crowns the Conqu'ror in his Swathing Bands All the same Animating Spirit here The same the Courage not the Danger near No Thou Great Heir of Smiles All Born for Joy No Juno's Spight would these young Hopes destroy Nor wonder that this Godlike GENIUS reigns When 't is no more than what Thou ow'st thy VEINS Born from that SIRE whose Patriot Arm once held His COUNTRY's sharpest Sword and toughest Shield No Hand more Daring for the Lawrel pusht In Fields of Blood his very Nonage flusht His Early Leading VALOUR fixt in Fame Whilst Lunden and Landscroon shall have a Name 'T was thus He set out in the Martial Race 'Till his calm Bow'rs of BLISS ended the Chace A Plant of GLORY in so Rich a Bed By such Hereditary Nurture fed When Princely Stems such forward Blossoms bring From such kind Suns ne'er wonder at the Spring Nay for yet more kind cheering Beams to shoot The early spreading Bloom from such a ROOT Thou Royal Nursery in Arts and Arms Thy Darling Pallas in her Double Charms To cultivate so all Divine a Soil Here both the Mars and the Apollo smile Led by such Aiding Pow'rs when on each Hand Th' Instructing Hero and Learn'd Prelate stand Well may thy Youth take that Pellaean Flight Betwixt the Clytus and the Stagyrite But if the Martial Bolts so early Charm And ev'n thy Cretan Cradle glows so warm When full-blown GLORY thy Crown'd Head shall see Then when some mighty Cause all worthy Thee What if the Enslav'd Christendom once more Thee our succeeding JOVE's kind Aid implore Her Groans all ecchoing to Thy Albion Walls Whilst the Chain'd Virgin the Wing'd Perseus calls With thy Great FATHER then thy Veins inspir'd With the whole Transmigrated NASSAV fir'd With those united Native Genii fill'd And all that Immortality can build To send Thee Forth in HONOUR's Noblest Race Some Tyrant