Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n
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A59342
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Sacellum honoris a congratulatory poem to the Right Honourable the Marquis of Tavistock on his happy return from travel / by E. Settle.
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Settle, Elkanah, 1648-1724.
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1700
(1700)
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Wing S2717; ESTC R37373
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4,708
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17
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SACELLUM HONORIS A Congratulatory POEM To the Right Honourable the Marquis of Tavistock ON HIS Happy Return from Travel By E. SETTLE 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 LONDON Printed for A. Baldwin at the Oxford Arms in Warwick Lane MDCC A Congratulatory POEM To the Right Honourable the Marquis of Tavistock TRavel the Mart of Glory where each Plume Is all Imported Wealth t' enrich at Home If Wisdom's Chace the Search of Nature's Veins The study'd Universe be worth the Pains 'T is in thy School must tugging Honour sweat Travel thou best Gamaliel of the Great 'T is Thou set'st Knowledge at a Light more fair To See 's to Know to Judge is to Compare Reasons best Guide Distinction Greatness bound Only to a Home Circuit's narrow round Too fond or weak does no true Ballance hold 'T is Travel lends the Scales to weigh the Gold Thus 't is Thou wreath'st the Flow'rs t' adorn the Great And add'st the Lawrel to the CORONET This knew Great TAVISTOCK and in thy Chace Resolv'd to set out His First Glories Race Yes Travel thou shalt His young Pinions try And in thy open Air the Eaglet fly In Belgia is His first Great Entry made Perhaps a Ceremonious Homage paid To Belgia first His Zeal and Duty move Belgia the Cradle of our Albion JOVE Here the Great Race thus prosperously begun Must now around the Circled Europe run All that the Rhine Sein Tybur or the Po All the rich Banks their watry Urns o'erflow Great TAVISTOCK must range no Throne too far Nor Alps nor Apennines His Course must bar No Air nor Clime His Progress must restrain From the cold Norway to the sultry Spain What tho' Adorn'd with every Grace before That Britain's Noblest Nursery cou'd store With all th' Improv'd and Innate VIRTUES fill'd His Education or His Birth could yield What tho' before so Rich yet still too Poor To all He carries out He yet wants more Men Manners Laws and Lands He studies All And as He moves He rolls the Gathering Ball In Nature's Book that Learn'd Proficient grown Resolv'd to make the well-read World his own Ambition thus warms with a Sacred Heat 'T is Godlike to Aspire thus to be Great To Courts Thrones Kingdoms over Lands or Sea Wherever Leading Honour guides His Way Through all the Regions His vast Circuit calls Behold him in proud Rome's Triumphant Walls Rome whose once potent Arm the Thunder hurl'd Held th' Universal Reins and drove the World But now her Consuls and her Caesar's lost Her Race of Worthies does no longer boast But tho' her Capitol commands no more Her Conclave arrogates th' Imperial Pow'r The subject Universe no longer driven Sets up her Phaetons and now drives Heav'n Here TAVISTOCK all pleas'd and wond'ring read The Monumental Fames of her Great Dead View'd her old Piles of Venerable Rust Her sev'n proud Hills and prouder Heroes Dust Fired with a Generous Heat here long He stay'd And all the Glories of Old Rome survey'd From her new Glory with a colder Look His Icy Veins but small Impression took He with her Scarlet Syren's Songs uncharm'd At her old Urns not her new Altars warm'd Here He with Scorn look'd down He saw no more The Ancient Rome's Imperial Eagles soar No the old Bird of Jove long dispossest Her Vultures now usurp her Eagles Nest Those Vultures Oh the dire remember'd Day When those devouring Ravenous Birds of Prey Through His own Veins their barb'rous Quarry tore And gorg'd the purest Blood that Albion ever bore Thus Rome did the Great TAVISTOCK divide Supply'd at once both His Contempt and Pride But whilst Antiquity her various Scenes Her Piles and Rolls of Fame those Great Remains With all their Transient Glory treat His Eyes His Soul to yet Sublimer Transports flies His glorious Travels with their pompous Train Only a Nobler Exiles ling'ring Pain Of a long Servitude the Dragging Chain All a Divorce from LOVE's Immortal Charms The long-wish'd Joys in His URANIA's Arms. But now the finishing Great Circle run His Two Years wand'ring Age now almost done He shakes the emptying Glass pleas'd to behold The fleeting Sparks and number'd Minutes told For oh the Last expiring Sands run Gold Charm'd with the Prospect of approaching Bliss His yet but Visionary Paradice Thus rapt thus fired the Bridegroom Lord returns Ev'n when He treads the Alpine Snow He burns In vain the coming Jubilee and all Rome's pompous Lustre wou'd His Flight recal His Revels are in Albion not at Rome Yes LOVE Great LOVE His Jubilee's at home Thus th' happy Call th' impatient LOVER bore With all His Plumes to His dear Albion Shore A posting Mercury more pleas'd ne'er Rod To bear the Mandates of th' Imperial GOD Wings on his Feet and Transport in his Eyes Then TAVISTOCK to His URANIA flies But hold one Bar of Glory stops his Way Proud Gallia must awhile his Joys delay Of all who his divided Favours wore The European Courts he'had grac'd before The last not least France claims a Sister's share Her Rivals must not All the Trophies bear France the World 's Boreas once Tempestuous Throne From whose bleak Coast our angry Winds all blown Down by th' Impetuous Torrent over born Hence all our Wrecks hence Europe's Entrails torn Till the rough Storm by Albion lull'd to Rest Calm'd by Great WILLIAM to a Halcyon Nest Here the Great welcom'd TAVISTOCK no less Than homaging Knees and circling Arms caress With that Magnificence with all that Port His Albion Lustre fill'd his Foreign COURT That Lustre that cou'd add the Noblest Ray Ev'n to Great WILLIAM's proud Triumphant Day * Embassadors Entry Yes France must TAVISTOCK's full Lustre view His SOUL Great as his VEINS his equal Glories due Not th' Albion Pride alone but Albion's Champion too Saw the Young Hero with a Zeal and Arm In His defended Country's Cause so Warm 'Till His o'erboiling Courage swell'd so high As durst the Boldest Sword of France defy Oh Gallia Gallia here what dost Thou owe Thy blushing Lillies cannot bend too low To that fair British ROSE this Tribute paid Whose Sacred STEM once thy vile Arts betray'd In Dust by thy Destroying Councils laid Thy Knees His Homagers we scarce dare call Poor Expiation for that Barb'rous Fall 'T is but thy Penitential Duty all And if relenting Penitence once more Can Whiteness to thy Sanguin'd Liss restore Great TAVISTOCK with Songs of Triumph greet And strow thy flow'ry Garlands at His Feet To th' Honour'd BRANCH thy Io Paeans sung Thou own'st the Martyr'd Root from whence He sprung But whil'st with her best Smiles and chearful Face The pleas'd Versails does her Great Guest embrace The sad St. Germains with a gloomier Air That melancholy Region of Despair All wrapt in Clouds does a bleak Aspect bear To see bright GLORY's Resurrection made From Rome's black Chaos Britain's once dark Shade To see the Coronet on that Young HEAD Perhaps with a too conscious Shame o'erspread It calls alas the dire Remembrance