Selected quad for the lemma: state_n
Text snippets containing the quad
ID |
Title |
Author |
Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) |
STC |
Words |
Pages |
A54779
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To the King, on his peaceable return, and magnificent entry into London By E. N. P.
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E. N. P.
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1697
(1697)
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Wing P20B; ESTC R221387
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6,075
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14
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who scribles to the fulsom Stage Whose nauseous Morals taint the senseless Age Leud as his Mistress as his Flatterers dull His shallow Head with monstrous Vapours full Scrues up his Brains and bites his Nails for Odes To praise his Sovereign and Blaspheme his Gods Only grey Chaerilus in silence grouls And on his Prince's peaceful Glory scouls Looks as great Rubens draws the surly pair When Meleager courts the valiant Fair And to her Hands presents the tusked Spoils The gallant Trophies of his daring Toils Meanly content to sham the cheated Age With âlat Burlesque for Maro's lofty page Dwindles his Thoughts down to a fustain Ode Which once with Madam Hinds Encomiums flow'd His first Republick Principles renews And to a State deuotes his double Childish Muse With him the grumbling few perhaps repine Like Bats they see your Mid-day's Glory shine Dazled with Honours and quite sick with Light They long for Darkness and Eternal Night Kings are All Tyrants and they 'd sacrifice Their Heads to Dreams which in their Fancies rise And would Great William lay the Scepter down And to Republick Humours veil the Crown Britain would soon in wild Confusion mourn And every Villain might expect his Turn If Traiterous Heads by your bless'd Peace undone Would with a bloody Cloud eclipse the Sun Not mov'd by loyal Thoughts but dark Despair Their Hopes as shatter'd as their Fortunes are To Hell they 'd for Revenge their Souls resign Such Souls alone to Hellish Arts decline And let 'um Plot While Heaven's superior Care Quarters his wing'd Battallions round the Air Bids the bright Troops their constant rounds to keep Gently to hush your Royal Cares a-sleep And hurl the Traitor's Souls down to the burning Deep But see fair Cham and Ouse their Guardians send And at your Feet the Sons of Learning bend See where their Lyres the cheerful Muses bring And Io's to their great Protector sing Touch'd by your Hands the sacred Waters flow And pure the Springs the Rivers wholesome grow Humbly with them your faithful Rhymer lies With them to your serene Protection flies With them he joins his Prayers Great Sir may YOU The Fruits with pleasure of your Labours view Look on your Brittish Orb as Heaven of old When dark Confusion off the Mass was could Look'd on the figur'd World May his great Hand Who bade your Cares our stubborn Isle Command Smile on your sacred Head and make you prove The second Object of the Nations Love Long may You reign with growing Lustre bright Your Envyer's terror and the Worlds delight Be Heaven your Care on You his Blessings flow Till Heaven exhausted can no more bestow In all your Acts may Godlike Virtue shne And all Acknowledge what 's in You Divine Reign still in PEACE till your good Sword Curtan'd Almost forgets your warlike Arms Command But if it must be drawn let pointed Flame From the Confederate Skies your Wars proclaim Scorch off the Scabbard and refine the steel Till's its sharp Edge your fierce Opposers feel 'Till Home-born plotting Rebels quit the field And foreign Arms to your great Genius yield May your bless'd Hand the Royal Infant mould Our Second Hope till when your self grown old Sink prest with Age and Honours gently down And leave your splendid but your weighty Crown Till when his happy Mother's Age expires And she toth ' Closet of the skies retires Reading Your Deeds in Fame's large Calender How Just in Peace how terrible in War He like to Morrow's Sun may gaily rise And strongly drive around the Northern Skies As bright as warmly and strongly shine His Face unspotted and his Beams Divine While Britain's future Race your Acts declare View You again in your Illustrious Heir And praise your present Love and bless your parting Care FINIS