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lord_n great_a king_n see_v 19,681 5 3.7569 3 false
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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
B01992 Cæsarem & fortunam vehis, paraphras'd: or A poem on the kings resolution of going for Ireland 1690 (1690) Wing C205; ESTC R170344 1,135 3

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CAESAREM FORTUNAM Vehis PARAPhRASEd OR A Poem on the Kings ResoluTiON of going foR IReLAND Caesarem Fortunam Vehis PARAPHRAS'D OR A POEM on the Kings Resolution of going for Ireland GO Stately Argonaute may prosperous Gales All from above conspire to fill thy Sails Thy Cargo is Three Crowns Caesar to boot And he alone worth more from Head to Foot Let Neptune waft thee and his Trident sway St. George's Channel to make smooth his way Until thou dost arrive unto that Land Where Teagues inhabit which he should command No sooner put a Shore there mayest thou be As soon a Conquest as we late did see England subdu'd where thou didst only Land And we were sav'd with Heav'n in every Hand Great is thy Character Success thy Name To add to William-Henry's greater Fame Thou needst not fetch St. Peter's Keys from Rome No nor St. Patrick's Cloak out of the Loom To bless thy Enterprize Victorious Youth Thou dost not steer by Legends but by Truth Thou hast a greater Influence better Guide Thy Convoy both by Land and Sea beside Methinks I see thee drein up every Bog Methinks I see thee root out every Log. And that each Man about thee in thy sight Another Strongbow is to claim thy right And every Bullet in its place did lurk When sent abroad ordain'd to do thy Work Methinks I see Transub with Irish Breeding With his Heart aking and his Nose a bleeding Distracted with his Teagues all giving ground When William's Drums do beat his Trumpets sound Guilt is a Poltron Innocence is stout And from the Jaws of Hell helps Vertue out Methinks I hear along the River Shannon Hundreds bid for a Guide to Balilanon As my Lord Lile of old did to Dunganon Thence to escape giving the Teagues the Loose The French King To his Dear Joyes first brought him to this Noose St. Patrick purg'd the much more harmless Beast Of Venom in the Men we see encreast Great Monarch that is left to thy sole Pow'rs Peopling anew that Land and to call it yours In spight of Grumbletonians halting Knaves Who fondly know not why they would be Slaves But Orange he has fenc'd us while we see The Belgick Lion with our Three ag●●e Let Lewis Rhod'mont●de and J●mmy whine King William will drink Rhenish Claret Wine One Day in France for to controll the Seine And when his Troops the Macs and O's reduces Le Grand or Rhoan's Whelp wo to thy Flower de Luces He breaks thy Triple League form'd to become The Ruine and the Bane of Christendom The Ottoman's baffled Jemmy's Hook's in 's Nose And Devil's-gift Lewis he too has his Throws No Midwifry will serve to save him blows No tho the Maid of Orleans interpose Until he be reduc'd by th' Empire 's Lance From all 's Encroachments to his Isle of France There behold Jemmy Lewis drawing Cuts Who best Shoots Rovers having lost their Butts When in comes William-Henry spoils their Sport And hits the Mark bless'd be Providence for 't So with Augustus having clear'd the Age Of every violent Humour wilder Rage He seems all Storms and Tempests being furl'd To settle Truth and Peace o're all our World London Printed for G. Wallup 1690.