John Dryden - Delphi Poets Series

by John Dryden

  Where Coin and first Commerce he did invent.

  159

  Rude as their Ships was Navigation, then;

  No useful Compass or Meridian known;

  Coasting, they kept the Land within their ken, 635

  And knew no North but when the Pole-star shone.

  160

  Of all who since have used the open Sea,

  Than the bold English none more Fame have won;

  Beyond the Year, and out of Heav’n’s high-way,

  They make discoveries where they see no Sun. 640

  161

  But what so long in vain, and yet unknown,

  By poor man-kinds benighted Wit is sought,

  Shall in this Age to Britain first be shewn,

  And hence be to admiring Nations taught.

  162

  The Ebbs of Tides and their mysterious Flow, 645

  We, as Arts Elements shall understand,

  And as by Line upon the Ocean go,

  Whose Paths shall be familiar as the Land.

  163

  Instructed ships shall sail to quick Commerce,

  By which remotest Regions are alli’d; 650

  Which makes one City of the Universe;

  Where some may gain, and all may be suppli’d.

  164

  Then we upon our Globes last verge shall go,

  And view the Ocean leaning on the Sky:

  From thence our rolling Neighbours we shall know, 655

  And on the Lunar world securely pry.

  165

  This I fore-tel from your auspicious Care,

  Who great in search of God and Nature grow;

  Who best your wise Creator’s Praise declare,

  Since best to praise his works is best to know. 660

  166

  O truly Royal! who behold the Law,

  And rule of Beings in your Makers mind:

  And thence, like Limbecks, rich Idea’s draw,

  To fit the levell’d use of Human-kind.

  167

  But first the toils of War we must endure, 665

  And from th’ injurious Dutch redeem the Seas,

  War makes the valiant of his right secure,

  And gives up Fraud to be chastis’d with ease.

  168

  Already were the Belgians on our Coast,

  Whose Fleet more mighty every day became 670

  By late success, which they did falsely boast,

  And now by first appearing seem’d to claim.

  169

  Designing, Subtil, Diligent, and Close,

  They knew to manage War with wise delay:

  Yet all those arts their Vanity did cross, 675

  And, by their pride, their prudence did betray.

  170

  Nor staid the English long: But well suppli’d,

  Appear as numerous as th’ insulting Foe:

  The Combat now by Courage must be tri’d,

  And the Success the braver Nation shew. 680

  171

  There was the Plimouth Squadron new come in,

  Which in the Streights last Winter was abroad;

  Which twice on Biscay’s working-Bay had been,

  And on the Mid-land sea the French had aw’d.

  172

  Old expert Allen, Loyal all along, 685

  Fam’d for his action on the Smirna fleet:

  And Holmes, whose name shall live in Epick Song,

  While Musick Numbers, or while Verse has Feet.

  173

  Holmes, the Achates of the Gen’ral’s Fight;

  Who first bewitch’d our eyes with Guinny gold: 690

  As once old Cato in the Roman’s sight

  The tempting Fruits of Africk did unfold.

  174

  With him went Sprag, as bountiful as brave,

  Whom his high Courage to command had brought:

  Harman, who did the twice fir’d Harry save, 695

  And in his burning ship undaunted fought.

  175

  Young Hollis on a Muse by Mars begot,

  Born, Cæsar-like, to write and act great Deeds:

  Impatient to revenge his fatal Shot,

  His right hand doubly to his left succeeds. 700

  176

  Thousands were there in darker fame that dwell,

  Whose Deeds some nobler Poem shall adorn:

  And though to me unknown, they, sure, fought well,

  Whom Rupert led, and who were British born.

  177

  Of every size an hundred fighting Sail, 705

  So vast the Navy now at Anchor rides,

  That underneath it the press’d Waters fail,

  And, with its weight, it shoulders off the Tides.

  178

  Now Anchors weigh’d, the Sea-men shout so shrill,

  That Heav’n, and Earth, and the wide Ocean rings: 710

  A Breeze from Westward waits their Sails to fill,

  And rests, in those high beds, his downy Wings.

  179

  The wary Dutch this gathering storm foresaw,

  And durst not bide it on the English-coast:

  Behind their treacherous Shallows they withdraw, 715

  And there lay Snares to catch the British Host.

  180

  So the false Spider, when her Nets are spread,

  Deep ambush’d in her silent Den does lie:

  And feels, far off, the trembling of her thread,

  Whose filmy Cord should bind the struggling Fly. 720

  181

  Then, if at last she find him fast beset,

  She issues forth, and runs along her Loom:

  She joys to touch the Captive in her Net,

  And drag the little Wretch in triumph home.

  182

  The Belgians hop’d that, with disorder’d haste, 725

  Our deep-cut Keels upon the Sands might run:

  Or, if with caution leisurely were past,

  Their numerous Gross might charge us one by one.

  183

  But with a Fore-wind pushing them above,

  And swelling Tide that heav’d them from below, 730

  O’er the blind Flats our warlike Squadrons move,

  And, with spread Sails, to welcom Battel go.

  184

  It seem’d as there the British Neptune stood,

  With all his hosts of Waters at Command,

  Beneath them to submit th’ officious Floud; 735

  And, with his Trident, shov’d them off the Sand.

  185

  To the pale Foes they suddenly draw near,

  And summon them to unexpected Fight;

  They start like Murderers when Ghosts appear,

  And draw their Curtains in the dead of night. 740

  186

  Now Van to Van the foremost Squadrons meet,

  The midmost Battels hastning up behind:

  Who view, far off, the storm of falling Sleet;

  And hear their Thunder ratling in the wind.

  187

  At length the adverse Admirals appear; 745

  (The two bold Champions of each Countries right)

  Their Eyes describe the lists as they come near,

  And draw the lines of Death before they fight.

  188

  The distance judg’d for Shot of every size,

  The Linstocks touch, the pond’rous Ball expires: 750

  The vigorous Sea-man every Port-hole plies,

  And adds his heart to every Gun he fires.

  189

  Fierce was the Fight on the proud Belgians side,

  For Honour, which they seldom sought before:

  But now they by their own vain Boasts were ti’d 755

  And forc’d, at least in show, to prize it more.

  190

  But sharp remembrance on the English part

  And shame of being match’d by such a Foe,

  Rouze conscious Virtue up in every heart,

&nb
sp; And seeming to be stronger makes them so. 760

  191

  Nor long the Belgians could that Fleet sustain,

  Which did two Gen’rals fates, and Cæsar’s bear:

  Each several Ship a Victory did gain,

  As Ruperl or as Albemarl were there.

  192

  Their batter’d Admiral too soon withdrew, 765

  Unthank’d by ours for his unfinish’d Fight;

  But he the Minds of his Dutch Masters knew,

  Who call’d that providence which we call’d flight.

  193

  Never did Men more joyfully obey,

  Or sooner understood the sign to flie: 770

  With such alacrity they bore away,

  As if to praise them All the States stood by.

  194

  O famous leader of the Belgian fleet,

  Thy Monument inscrib’d such praise shall wear,

  As Varro timely flying once did meet, 775

  Because he did not of his Rome despair.

  195

  Behold that Navy, which a while before

  Provok’d the tardy English close to Fight;

  Now draw their beaten Vessels close to shore,

  As Larks lie dar’d to shun the Hobbies flight. 780

  196

  Who e’re would English Monuments survey,

  In other Records may our Courage know:

  But let them hide the Story of this day,

  Whose Fame was blemish’d by too base a Foe.

  197

  Or if too busily they will enquire 785

  Into a Victory which we disdain:

  Then let them know, the Belgians did retire

  Before the Patron Saint of injur’d Spain.

  198

  Repenting England this revengeful day

  To Philip’s Manes did an offering bring 790

  England, which first, by leading them astray,

  Hatch’d up Rebellion to destroy her King.

  199

  Our Fathers bent their baneful industry,

  To check a Monarchy that slowly grew;

  But did not France or Holland’s Fate fore-see, 795

  Whose rising Pow’r to swift Dominion flew.

  200

  In fortunes Empire blindly thus we go,

  And wander after pathless Destiny;

  Whose dark resorts since Prudence cannot know,

  In vain it would provide for what shall be. 800

  201

  But what e’re English to the bless’d shall go,

  And the fourth Harry or first Orange meet;

  Find him disowning of a Burbon foe,

  And him detesting a Batavian Fleet.

  202

  Now on their Coasts our conquering Navy rides, 805

  Way-lays their Merchants, and their Land besets;

  Each day new Wealth without their Care provides;

  They lie asleep with Prizes in their Nets.

  203

  So, close behind some Promontory lie

  The huge Leviathans t’ attend their Prey; 810

  And give no Chace, but swallow in the Frie,

  Which through their gaping Jaws mistake the way.

  204

  Nor was this all: In Ports and Roads remote,

  Destructive Fires among whole Fleets we send;

  Triumphant Flames upon the Water flote, 815

  And out-bound Ships at home their Voyage end.

  205

  Those various Squadrons, variously design’d

  Each Vessel fraighted with a several Load,

  Each Squadron waiting for a several wind,

  All find but one, to burn them in the Road. 820

  206

  Some bound for Guinny, golden Sand to find,

  Bore all the Gauds the simple Natives wear:

  Some for the pride of Turkish Courts design’d,

  For folded Turbants finest Holland bear.

  207

  Some English wool, vex’d in a Belgian Loom, 825

  And into Cloth of spungy softness made,

  Did into France or colder Denmark doom,

  To ruine with worse ware our staple Trade.

  208

  Our greedy Sea-men rummage every hold,

  Smile on the Booty of each wealthier Chest; 830

  And, as the Priests who with their Gods make bold,

  Take what they like, and sacrifice the rest.

  209

  But, ah! how unsincere are all our Joys!

  Which, sent from Heav’n, like Lightning, make no stay:

  Their palling Taste the Journeys Length destroys, 835

  Or Grief, sent post, o’retakes them on the way.

  210

  Swell’d with our late Successes on the Foe,

  Which France and Holland wanted power to cross,

  We urge an unseen Fate to lay us low,

  And feed their envious Eyes with English loss. 840

  211

  Each Element his dread Command obeys,

  Who makes or ruines with a Smile or Frown;

  Who as by one he did our Nation raise,

  So now, he with another pulls us down.

  212

  Yet London, Empress of the Northern Clime, 845

  By an high Fate thou greatly didst expire:

  Great as the Worlds, which, at the death of time,

  Must fall, and rise a nobler frame by fire.

  213

  As when some dire Usurper Heav’n provides

  To scourge his Country with a lawless sway: 850

  His birth perhaps some petty Village hides,

  And sets his Cradle out of Fortune’s way.

  214

  Till fully ripe his swelling Fate breaks out,

  And hurries him to mighty Mischiefs on:

  His Prince, surpriz’d at first, no ill could doubt, 855

  And wants the pow’r to meet it when ’tis known.

  215

  Such was the Rise of this prodigious fire,

  Which in mean Buildings first obscurely bred,

  From thence did soon to open Streets aspire,

  And straight to Palaces and Temples spread. 860

  216

  The diligence of Trades and noiseful Gain,

  And luxury, more late, asleep were laid:

  All was the nights, and in her silent reign

  No sound the rest of Nature did invade.

  217

  In this deep quiet, from what scource unknown, 865

  Those seeds of Fire their fatal Birth disclose;

  And first, few scatt’ring Sparks about were blown,

  Big with the flames that to our Ruin rose.

  218

  Then, in some close-pent Room it crept along,

  And, smouldring as it went, in silence fed; 870

  Till th’ infant Monster, with devouring strong,

  Walk’d boldly upright with exalted head.

  219

  Now like some rich or mighty Murderer,

  Too great for Prison, which he breaks with Gold,

  Who fresher for new Mischiefs does appear 875

  And dares the World to tax him with the old:

  220

  So scapes th’ insulting Fire his narrow Jail

  And makes small out-lets into open air:

  There the fierce Winds his tender Force assail,

  And beat him down-ward to his first repair. 880

  221

  The Winds, like crafty Courtezans, withheld

  His Flames from burning, but to blow them more:

  And every fresh attempt he is repell’d

  With faint Denials, weaker than before.

  222

  And now, no longer letted of his Prey, 885

  He leaps up at it with inrag’d desire:

  O’relooks the Neighbours with a wide survey,

  And nods at every House his threatning Fire.

  223

  The Ghosts of Traitors from the B
ridge descend,

  With bold Fanatick Spectres to rejoyce: 890

  About the fire into a Dance they bend,

  And sing their Sabbath Notes with feeble voice.

  224

  Our Guardian Angel saw them where he sat

  Above the Palace of our slumbring King;

  He sigh’d, abandoning his charge to Fate, 895

  And, drooping, oft lookt back upon the wing.

  225

  At length the crackling noise and dreadful blaze

  Call’d up some waking Lover to the sight;

  And long it was ere he the rest could raise,

  Whose heavy Eye-lids yet were full of Night. 900

  226

  The next to Danger, hot persu’d by Fate,

  Half-cloth’d, half-naked, hastily retire:

  And frighted Mothers strike their Breasts, too late,

  For helpless Infants left amidst the Fire.

  227

  Their Cries soon waken all the Dwellers near; 905

  Now murmuring Noises rise in every Street;

  The more remote run stumbling with their fear,

  And, in the dark, Men justle as they meet.

  228

  So weary Bees in little Cells repose;

  But if Night-robbers lift the well-stor’d Hive, 910

  An humming through their waxen City grows,

  And out upon each others wings they drive.

  229

  Now Streets grow throng’d and busie as by day:

  Some run for Buckets to the hallow’d Quire:

  Some cut the Pipes, and some the Engines play; 915

  And some more bold mount Ladders to the fire.

  230

  In vain: For from the East a Belgian wind

  His hostile Breath through the dry Rafters sent;

  The Flames impell’d soon left their Foes behind

  And forward, with a wanton fury went. 920

  231

  A Key of Fire ran all along the Shore,

  And lighten’d all the River with a blaze:

  The waken’d Tides began again to roar,

  And wond’ring Fish in shining waters gaze.

  232

  Old Father Thames rais’d up his reverend head, 925

  But fear’d the fate of Simoeis would return:

  Deep in his Ooze he sought his sedgy Bed,

  And shrunk his Waters back into his Urn.

  233

  The Fire, mean time walks in a broader gross;

  To either hand his Wings he opens wide: 930

  He wades the Streets, and streight he reaches cross,

  And plays his longing Flames on th’ other side.

  234

  At first they warm, then scorch, and then they take;

  Now with long Necks from side to side they feed:

  At length, grown strong, their Mother-fire forsake, 935

  And a new Colony of Flames succeed.

  235

  To every nobler Portion of the Town

  The curling Billows roll their restless Tide:

  In parties now they straggle up and down,