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A25973
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An epistle to Monsieur Boileau inviting his muse to forsake the French interest and celebrate the King of England / by Edmund Arwaker.
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Arwaker, Edmund, d. 1730.
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1694
(1694)
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Wing A3907; ESTC R28297
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2,552
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10
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AN EPISTLE TO Monsieur Boileau Inviting his MUSE to forsake the FRENCH INTEREST And celebrate the KING of ENGLAND BY EDM. ARWAKER LICENSED Novemb. 9. 1694. D. POPLAR LONDON Printed by Tho. Warren for Francis Saunders at the Blue Anchor in the Lower Walk of the New Exchange 1694. AN EPISTLE TO Monsieur Boileau TOO long Great Man thy Muse has try'd in vain Thy Monarch's sinking Credit to sustain And thou too long hast mis-employ'd thy Pen To make the worst appear the best of Men A sullied Fame to brighten and refine That never did with real Lustre shine While as one flatter'd by too fair a Glass Views but the wanted Beauties of his Face So Lewis in thy lofty Praise does see Not what he is but what he wants to be And he must all his boasted Glories own Not from himself deriv'd but thee alone Whose Muse so well does his mean Deeds reherse That he becomes Immortal in thy Verse But to thy Verse no lasting Fame can give In recompence for what he does receive Leave leave him then to raise his own Renown And win the Laurels that his Temples crown A better Cause and nobler Subject chuse That may inspire as it employs thy Muse May with thy elevated Sense agree And copious as thy boundless Fancy be A Hero whose bright Fame may gild thy Bays And more thy Name than thou his Glory raise See see his Conq'ring Sword great Nassaw draws Not poorly bribes but merits thy Applause His brave Exploits afford thy Muse a Theme Equal to that as that is worthy them The Titles he in Fame's Records does hold Are purchas'd by his Valour not his Gold He owes his Glory to himself alone And Acquisition makes it all his own Whilst Lewis rarely does in Arms appear Nor then to fight but follow in the Rear Our Monarch charging in the Front we see None more expos'd none less concern'd than he Who lets his Soldiers on no Dangers go But what as he commands he leads them to Thus taught by his Example to obey They bravely follow as he shews the Way Not so your King he still declines the Fight Nor shuns the Danger only but its Sight Yet with unmerited Success grown vain He boasts of Conquests he did never gain His Breaches were from Golden Batt'ries made And our lost Towns not taken but betray'd Thus when some Place by Purchace is made sure His Person and his Honour too secure Then the triumphant Monarch takes the Field And gains the Town that waited so to yield This makes him with affected Greatness swell And boast his Arms as irresistible His Arches are by such Atchievements rear'd Thus Lewis fights and thus is to be fear'd But since he finds the Scene is alter'd now And that his Treasure as his Courage low Will not the old prevailing Means afford That more enlarg'd his Conquests than his Sword He forms no hopeless Siege makes no Campaigne From which he knows he shall no Honour gain But to the Field has wisely sent his Son To bear the blame of losing what he won For all the Conquest he this Year can boast Is that in Running his Success was most While Huy's reduc'd to serve its Native Lord Not as 't was lost but storm'd with Fire and Sword Which proves as irresistible a Pow'r In English Courage as French Gold â—â—â—â—e And that our KING all Conquest 〈◊〉 despise Which any Price but glorious Danger â—â—â—ys Now the French Army whose Renâ—wn we knew More to its Numbers than its Brav'ry â—â—ue Equall'd in Strength in Valour is outâ—â—ne And while Huy falls stands tamely looking on So by Great William's conqu'ring Arms dismay'd The Gen'rals durst not venture to its Aid Happy they could their own Intrenchments keep Though dug to suit their low-sunk Spirits deep Yet scarce they lost their Appehension there Nor as from Danger were secur'd from Fear Till they for greater Safety left the Place Not loaden now with Trophies but Disgrace Such Conquests Lewis this Campaigne has won Such Triumphs Fate decreed his glorious Son But since no Honours from the barren Field He reaps what Laurels did the Ocean yield That sure his ruin'd Credit will repair And own his long-pretended Power there But as if both the Elements agreed From his usurp'd Dominion to be freed The Sea no longer Tribute does afford But justly pays it to the ancient Lord. Whose conqu'ring Fleets assert their native Right While the French Navy shuns the dreaded Sight And sees it self in its own Ports confin'd By Fear more pow'rful than an adverse Wind. So when the scaly Sov'reign of the Seas Himself within his liquid Realm does please And with swift Finns ranges the briny Flood To take his Pastime there or seek his Food His frightned Vassals hide their shining Heads In the kind Covert of concealing Weeds Our floating Squadrons now their Right regain And unobstructed wanton through the Main Insult the Gallick Coasts and their just Rage With Sacrifice of flaming Towns asswage Whose sable Smoak ascending to the Sky Mourns for the Structures that in Ashes ly While strange Confusion spread along the Shore Makes England's Pow'r rever'd as heretofore Nor does one Fleet alone her Fame advance The Joys in Spain equal the Fears in France And Barcellona all Attempts defies While on our Monarch's Succour she relies And shelter'd by his Navy's spreading Wings She triumphs in the sure Defence it brings Thus Spain by our Elisa shook before Is now supported by Great William's Pow'r Then in his Praises let fam'd Boileau join And to his Side like Victory incline Whose daring Soul and ever-conqu'ring Sword Will endless Matter for thy Verse afford But if thou wilt a servile Labour chuse Where Arbitrary Pow'r enslaves thy Muse And does thy Thoughts to narrow Bounds confine Which Heav'n for boundless Subjects did design Know our fam'd Prince can his own Trophies raise And courts as little as he wants thy Praise Nor if such Means his Glory could advance Wou'd he have need to be oblig'd to France Since his own Realms abound with Men of Sence And famous for Poetick Excellence Whose lofty Verse your humble Strain exceeds As much as his your meaner Patron 's Deeds Witness the Muse that first in Songs Divine Describ'd his Fight and Conquest at the Boyne That which most pleas'd was difficult to tell The Field so bravely won or sung so well Witness that happy Pen that did relate His glorious Voyage to the Belgick State And gave the World a Proof with how much Fire Our Poets write when them our Kings inspire But our Great Monarch's Praises shou'd no more Than his large Soul be bounded by our Shore Far as his Victories his spreading Fame shou'd sound And be in every Tongue as every Land renown'd Then Boileau let thy Muse begin her lofty Flight Tho' she must still despair to reach the wondrous Height FINIS AN Epistle to the Right Honourable Charles Earl of Dorset and Middlesex Lord Chamberlain of His Majesty's Houshold Occasion'd by His Majesty's Victory in Ireland An Epistle to Charles Montague Esq on his Majesty's Voyage to Holland by George Stepney The Life of Alexander the Great by Quintus Curtius Translated into English by several Hands and Dedicated to the Queen by N. Tate Servant to Their Majesties