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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A25885 The Arrival and welcome of Mr. George Walker, late governour of London-Derry in Ireland 1689 (1689) Wing A3771; ESTC R6511 1,801 1

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THE ARRIVAL and WELCOME OF Mr. GEORGE WALKER Late Governour of LONDON-DERRY in IRELAND NO Poet 's left are they all sent to Play And do the Muses now keep holy-day Can WALKER Derry's Governour be here And none salute Him None in Print appear Ungrateful Age I doubt we do inherit Like Bayes too much of the Red-Letter'd Spirit I 'le venture out though late what'ere comes on 't Without regard to malice or affront WALKER's Arrival shall with me prevail And I 'me resolv'd to pay him his first Hail Hail mighty Man to King and Kingdom true Great Son of Mars and of Minerva too Thou Man of double strength of tongue and hand Can'st Preach with one with th' other can'st Command Saint Peter's Keyes and Saint Paul's two edg'd Sword Did never better in one Soul accord Doctor or Hero oh What shall I call This Divine Man who is both these and all Welcome thrice welcome to our English shoar Surely our Ships did make their Cannons roar For joy they brought so great a Cargo'ore Welcome once more unto the British Coast Thou who so bravely did'st defend thy Post And do the work of the great Lord of Hoast Our Bells should busy be with their loud voice And flames in streets to make us all rejoyce Deum's in our Churches should be sung And all the Irish Harps now newly strung But amidst all the Consort 't is the heart Should bear the largest and the longest part Thus Voices Arts and Hearts should we advance To praise our God for thy Deliverance Since WALKER's work in Derry's brave Defence Was Scotland's Rampart and was England's Fence What was more great What could be yet more brave Then by one Act three Kingdoms thus to save Cease Greece and Rome your Worthyes then to boast Should we Compare yours would be wholly lost Candia of her long Seige must silent be And Stetin too beares not the bell from Thee Buda that baffled one Campagne must yeild And Belgrade likewise will resign her sheild These fought and bravely too but yet did fall WALKER kept Derry and out did them all And yet their Greifs were mounted to our price To be reduc'd to Catts and Ratts and Mice Dog's head in Porridge pott made us good Broth And was no empty Sign but reall Troth We thought like Tartars Horses very good Scarce potted Ven'son to be better food By which extrems we were so sharply try'd That to speak truth We neither liv'd nor dy'd Yet as in sleep we see grim Death and live So were our miseries Death's Perspective So once the Mighty Prophet in the Den So the three Children dy'd and liv'd agen And so did we when ev'ry dismal hour Some of us Death did kindly too devour Here some lay starv'd others the're happyer shot Such were our Objects still upon the spot And yet we fought and rais'd our spirits so That we despis'd repell'd and slay'd the Fo So little were our Strengths our Numbers less We sometimes blush'd at our own great Success Which we near fear'd the Cause had such strange odds Their's was all empty Idol our's all God's Then Peere these acts amongst all ancient story And shew the Man that deserves greater glory 'T is WALKER then who Ireland has preserv'd And the great Miter there for this deserv'd And for whom Heav'nly treasures are reserv'd Now that our WALKER is gon off the Stage Enter Great SCHOMBERG I error of the Age March Thundering Marshal with thy conqu'ring Arms Thy Name 's a Spell and give 's thy Army Charms The Holy War like WALKER led the van May Thou as prosperous end as he began We know fear is all stranger unto Thee Thou know'st not whether such a Passion be Or if there be Thou leav'st it to thy Foes And such dull heads as dare thy Arms oppose Vict'ries thy Conduct always did attend Triumphs ought now to Crown its latter end This Work 's beneath thee Ireland will not bleed Thy very word almost will do the Deed. Hunt them to Death for to do Dear-Joyes right They know what 't is to fly not what to fight Then Chat no more Ireland's already wone SCHOMBERG has conquer'd Talbot's work 's undone Thus make Dispatch That heigthen'd France may feel The sharpen'd Edge of thy Victorious Steel There make Descent and when thou dost invade To their great greifs They 'l find their Lillies fade And since they did great part of Dutchland burn Advance to Paris and make that an Urn But once appear and they will quickly yeild Thou' rt Marshal there and ought'st Command in Field Thus Conquer on and restore England's Glory That both with Grandeur may be read in Story England for these last eight and twenty Years Has still declin'd and yet ought be in tears Rouse Her now Dormant Lyons from their Den And make them at least passant once agen So mayst thou to thy own Name Honour bring Glory to Her and Her Most Graci'ous KING And then for All We will due Praises Sing Licensed and Entred according to Order LONDON Printed by H. Hills Jun. and Sold by R. Taylor 1689.