Complete Works of William Congreve Read online

  VII.

  Amidst this Rage, behold, where William stands,

  Undaunted, Undismay’d!

  With Face serene, dispensing dread Commands; 95

  Which heard with Awe, are with Delight obey’d.

  A thousand fiery Deaths around him fly;

  And burning Balls hiss harmless by:

  For ev’ry Fire his sacred Head must spare,

  Nor dares the Lightning touch the Lawrels there. 100

  VIII.

  Now many a wounded Briton feels the Rage

  Of Missive Fires that fester in each Limb,

  Which dire Revenge alone has Pow’r t’asswage;

  Revenge makes Danger dreadless seem.

  And now, with desp’rate Force, and fresh Attack, 105

  Through obvious Deaths, resistless way they make;

  Raising high Piles of Earth, and heap on heap they lay,

  And then ascend; resembling thus (as far

  As Race of Men inferior, may)

  The fam’d Gigantick War. 110

  When those tall Sons of Earth, did Heav’n aspire;

  (A Brave, but impious Fire!)

  Uprooting Hills, with most stupendous Hale,

  To form the High and Dreadful Scale.

  The Gods, with Horrour and Amaze, look’d down, 115

  Beholding Rocks from their firm Basis rent;

  Mountain on Mountain thrown,

  With threatning hurl, that shook th’Æthereal Firmament!

  Th’Attempt, did Fear in Heav’n create;

  Ev’n Jove desponding sate, 120

  ‘Till Mars with all his Force collected, stood,

  And pour’d whole War on the rebellious Brood;

  Who tumbling Headlong from th’Empyreal Skies,

  O’erwhelm’d those Hills, by which they thought to rise.

  Mars, on the Gods did then his Aid bestow, 125

  And now in Godlike William storms, with equal Force below.

  IX.

  Still they proceed, with firm unshaken Pace,

  And hardy Breasts oppos’d to Dangers Face.

  With daring Feet, on springing Mines they tread

  Of secret Sulphur, in dire Ambush laid. 130

  Still they proceed; tho’ all beneath, the Lab’ring Earth

  Trembles to give the dread Irruptions Birth.

  Thro’ this, thro’ more, thro’ all they go,

  Mounting at last amidst the vanquish’d Foe.

  See, how they climb, and scale the steepy Walls! 135

  See, how the Britons rise! see the retiring Gauls!

  Now from the Fort, behold the yielding Flag is spread,

  And William’s Banner on the Breach display’d.

  X.

  Hark, the triumphant Shouts, from every Voice!

  The Skies with Acclamations Ring! 140

  Hark, how around, the Hills rejoice,

  And Rocks, reflected Io’s Sing!

  Hautboys and Fifes and Trumpets join’d,

  Heroick Harmony prepare,

  And charm to Silence every Wind, 145

  And glad the late Tormented Air.

  Far, is the sound of Martial Musick spread,

  Ech’oing thro’ all the Gallick Host,

  Whose num’rous Troops the dreadful Storm survey’d:

  But they with Wonder, or with Awe, dismay’d, 150

  Unmov’d beheld the Fortress lost.

  William, their num’rous Troops with Terror fill’d,

  Such wondrous Charms, can Godlike Valour show!

  Not the wing’d Perseus, with Petrifick Shield

  Of Gorgon’s Head, to more amazement charm’d his Foe. 155

  Nor, when on soaring Horse he flew, to aid

  And save from Monsters Rage, the Beauteous Maid;

  Or more Heroick was the Deed;

  Or she to surer Chains decreed,

  Then was Namure; ‘till now by William freed. 160

  XI.

  Descend my Muse, from thy too daring height,

  Descend to Earth, and ease thy wide stretch’d Wing;

  For weary art thou grown, of this unwonted Flight,

  And dost with Pain of Triumphs sing.

  More fit for thee, resume thy rural Reeds; 165

  For War, let more Harmonious Harps be strung:

  Sing thou of Love, and leave Great William’s Deeds

  To Him who sung the Boyne; or Him to whom he Sung.

  THE BIRTH OF THE MUSE.

  To the Right Honourable Charles Lord HALIFAX.

  Dignum laude virum Musa vetat mori. Horat.

  DESCEND, Celestial Muse! thy Son inspire

  Of thee to sing; infuse the Holy Fire.

  Belov’d of Gods and Men, thy self disclose;

  Say, from what Source thy Heav’nly Pow’r arose,

  Which from unnumb’red Years deliv’ring down 5

  The Deeds of Heroes deathless in Renown,

  Extends their Life and Fame to Ages yet unknown.

  Time and the Muse set forth with equal Pace;

  At once the Rivals started to the Race:

  And both at once the destin’d Course shall end, 10

  Or both to all Eternity contend.

  One to preserve what t’other cannot save,

  And rescue Virtue rising from the Grave.

  To thee, O Montague, these Strains are sung,

  For thee my Voice is tun’d, and speaking Lyre is strung; 15

  For ev’ry Grace of ev’ry Muse is thine,

  In thee their various Fires united shine,

  Darling of Phoebus and the tuneful Nine!

  To thee alone I dare my Song commend,

  Whose Nature can forgive, and Pow’r defend, 20

  And shew by Turns the Patron and the Friend.

  Begin, my Muse, from Jove derive thy Song,

  Thy Song of right, does first to Jove belong:

  For thou thy self art of Celestial Seed,

  Nor dare a Sire inferior boast the Breed. 25

  When first the Frame of this vast Ball was made,

  And Jove with Joy the finish’d Work survey’d;

  Vicissitude of Things, of Men and States,

  Their Rise and Fall were destin’d by the Fates.

  Then Time had first a Name; by firm Decree 30

  Appointed Lord of all Futurity,

  Within whose ample Bosom Fates repose

  Causes of Things, and secret Seeds enclose,

  Which ripening there, shall one Day gain a Birth,

  And force a Passage thro’ the teeming Earth. 35

  To him they give, to rule the spacious Light,

  And bound the yet unparted Day and Night;

  To wing the Hours that whirl the rowling Sphere,

  To shift the Seasons, and conduct the Year.

  Duration of Dominion and of Pow’r 40

  To him prescribe, and fix each fated Hour.

  This mighty Rule, to Time the Fates ordain,

  But yet to hard Conditions bind his Reign.

  For ev’ry beauteous Birth he brings to Light,

  (How good soe’er and grateful in his sight,) 45

  He must again to Native Earth restore,

  And all his Race with Iron Teeth devour.

  Nor Good, nor Great shall ‘scape his hungry Maw,

  But bleeding Nature prove the rigid Law.

  Not yet, the loosned Earth aloft was slung, 50

  Or pois’d amid the Skies in Ballance hung.

  Nor yet, did Golden Fires the Sun adorn,

  Or borrow’d Lustre silver Cynthia’s Horn.

  Nor yet, had Time Commission to begin,

  Or Fate the many-twisted Web to spin; 55

  When all the Heav’nly Host assembled came

  To view the World yet resting on its Frame;

  Eager they press, to see the Sire dismiss

  And rowl the Globe along the vast Abyss.

  When deep revolving Thoughts the God retain, 60

  Which for a Space sus
pend the promis’d Scene,

  Once more his Eyes on Time intentive look,

  Again, inspect Fate’s universal Book.

  Abroad the wondrous Volume he displays,

  And present views the Deeds of future Days. 65

  A beauteous Scene adorns the foremost Page,

  Where Nature’s Bloom presents the Golden Age.

  The Golden Leaf to Silver soon resigns,

  And fair the Sheet, but yet more faintly shines.

  Of baser Brass, the next denotes the Times, 70

  An impious Page deform’d with deadly Crimes.

  The Fourth yet wears a worse and browner Face,

  And adds to Gloomy Days an Iron Race.

  He turns the Book, and ev’ry Age reviews,

  Then all the Kingly Line his Eye pursues: 75

  The First of Men, and Lords of Earth design’d,

  Who under him should govern Human-kind.

  Of future Heroes, there, the Lives he reads,

  In search of Glory spent, and Godlike Deeds;

  Who Empires found, and goodly Cities build, 80

  And savage Men compel to leave the Field.

  All this he saw, and all he saw approv’d;

  When Lo! but thence a Narrow Space remov’d,

  And hungry Time has all the Scene defac’d,

  The Kings destroy’d, and laid the Kingdoms waste: 85

  Together all in Common Ruins lie,

  And but anon and ev’n the Ruins die.

  Th’Almighty, inly touch’d, Compassion found,

  To see Great Actions in Oblivion drown’d;

  And forward search’d the Roll, to find if Fate 90

  Had no Reserve to spare the Good and Great.

  Bright in his View the Trojan Heroes shine,

  And Ilian Structures rais’d by Hands Divine;

  But Ilium soon in Native Dust is laid,

  And all her boasted Pile a Ruin made: 95

  Nor Great Æneas can her Fall withstand,

  But flies, to save his Gods, to foreign Land.

  The Roman Race succeed the Dardan State,

  And first and second Cæsar God-like Great.

  Still on to after-days his Eyes descend, 100

  And rising Heroes still the Search attend.

  Proceeding thus, he many Empires pass’d;

  When fair Britannia fix’d his Sight at last.

  Above the Waves she lifts her Silver Head,

  And looks a Venus born from Ocean’s Bed. 105

  For rowling Years, her happy Fortunes smile,

  And Fates propitious bless the beauteous Isle;

  To Worlds remote, she wide extends her Reign,

  And wields the Trident of the Stormy Main.

  Thus on the Base of Empire firm she stands, 110

  While bright Eliza rules the willing Lands.

  But soon a lowring Sky comes on apace,

  And Fate revers’d shews an ill-omen’d Face.

  The Void of Heav’n a gloomy Horror fills,

  And Cloudy Veils involve her shining Hills; 115

  Of Greatness pass’d no Footsteps she retains,

  Sunk in a Series of Inglorious Reigns.

  She feels the Change, and deep regrets the Shame

  Of Honours lost, and her diminish’d Name:

  Conscious, she seeks from Day to shrowd her Head, 120

  And glad wou’d shrink beneath her Oozy Bed.

  Thus far, the Sacred Leaves Britannia’s Woes

  In shady Draughts and dusky Lines disclose.

  Th’ensuing Scene revolves a Martial Age,

  And ardent Colours gild the glowing Page. 125

  Behold! of radiant Light an Orb arise,

  Which kindling Day, restores the darkned Skies;

  And see! on Seas the beamy Ball descends,

  And now its Course to fair Britannia bends:

  Along the foamy Main the Billows bear 130

  The floating Fire, and waft the shining Sphere.

  Hail, happy Omen! Hail, auspicious Sight!

  Thou glorious Guide to yet a greater Light.

  For see! a Prince, whom dazling Arms array,

  Pursuing closely, plows the wat’ry Way, 135

  Tracing the Glory thro’ the flaming Sea.

  Britannia, rise; awake, O Fairest Isle,

  From Iron Sleep; again thy Fortunes smile.

  Once more look up, the Mighty Man behold,

  Whose Reign renews the former Age of Gold. 140

  The Fates at length the blissful Web have spun,

  And bid it round in endless Circles run.

  Again, shall distant Lands confess thy Sway,

  Again, the wat’ry World thy Rule Obey;

  Again, thy Martial Sons shall thirst for Fame, 145

  And win in foreign Fields a deathless Name;

  For William’s Genius ev’ry Soul inspires,

  And warms the frozen Youth with warlike Fires.

  Already, see, the Flostile Troops retreat,

  And seem forewarn’d of their impending Fate. 150

  Already routed Foes his Fury feel,

  And fly the Force of his unerring Steel.

  The haughty Gaul, who well ‘till now, might boast

  A matchless Sword and unresisted Host,

  At his foreseen Approach the Field forsakes; 155

  His Cities tremble, and his Empire shakes.

  His tow’ring Ensigns long had aw’d the Plain,

  And Fleets audaciously usurp’d the Main;

  A gath’ring Storm he seem’d, which from afar

  Teem’d with a Deluge of destructive War. 160

  ‘Till William’s stronger Genius soar’d above,

  And down the Skies the daring Tempest drove.

  So from the radiant Sun retires the Night,

  And western Clouds shot thro’ with orient Light.

  So when th’assuming God, whom Storms obey, 165

  To all the warring Winds at once gives way,

  The frantick Brethren ravage all around,

  And Rocks, and Woods, and Shoars their Rage resound;

  Incumbent o’er the Main, at length they sweep

  The liquid Plains, and raise the peaceful Deep: 170

  But when superior Neptune leaves his Bed,

  His Trident shakes, and shews his awful Head;

  The madding Winds are hush’d, the Tempests cease,

  And ev’ry rowling Surge resides in Peace.

  And now the Sacred Leaf a Landskip wears, 175

  Where, Heav’n serene, and Air unmov’d appears.

  The Rose and Lilly paint the verdant Plains,

  And Palm and Olive shade the Sylvan Scenes.

  The peaceful Thames beneath his Banks abides,

  And soft, and still, the Silver Surface glides. 180

  The Zephyrs fan the Fields, the whisp’ring Breeze

  With fragrant Breath remurmurs thro’ the Trees.

  The warbling Birds applauding new-born Light,

  In wanton Measures wing their airy Flight.

  Above the Floods the finny Race repair, 185

  And bound aloft, and bask in upper Air;

  They gild their scaly Backs in Phœbus Beams,

  And scorn to skim the Level of the Streams.

  Whole Nature wears a Gay and Joyous Face,

  And blooms and ripens with the Fruits of Peace. 190

  No more the lab’ring Hind regrets his Toil,

  But cheerfully Manures the grateful Soil;

  Secure the Glebe a plenteous Crop will yield,

  And golden Ceres grace the waving Field.

  Th’advent’rous Man, who durst the Deep explore, 195

  Oppose the Winds, and tempt the shelfy Shoar,

  Beneath his Roof now tastes unbroken Rest,

  Enough with Native Wealth and Plenty blest.

  No more the forward Youth pursues Alarms,

  Nor leaves the Sacred Arts for stubborn Arms. 200

  No more the Mothers from their
Hopes are torn,

  Nor weeping Maids the promis’d Lover mourn.

  No more the Widows Shrieks and Orphans Cries,

  Torment the patient Air and pierce the Skies.

  But peaceful Joys the prosp’rous Times afford, 205

  And banish’d Virtue is again restor’d.

  And he whose Arms alone sustain’d the Toil,

  And propp’d the nodding Frame of Britain’s Isle;

  By whose illustrious Deeds, her Leaders fir’d,

  Have Honours lost retriev’d, and new acquir’d, 210

  With equal Sway will Vertue’s Laws maintain,

  And Good, as Great, in awful Peace shall reign;

  For his Example still the Rule shall give,

  And those it taught to Conquer, teach to Live.

  Proceeding on, the Father still unfolds 215

  Succeeding Leaves, and brighter still beholds;

  The latest seen the fairest seems to shine,

  Yet sudden does to one more fair resign.

  Th’Eternal paus’d —

  Nor would Britannia’s Fate beyond explore; 220

  Enough he saw besides the coming Store.

  Enough the Heroe had already done,

  And round the wide Extent of Glory run:

  Nor further now the shining Path pursues,

  But like the Sun the same bright Race renews. 225

  And shall remorseless Fates on him have Pow’r!

  Or Time unequally such Worth devour!

  Then, wherefore shall the Brave for Fame contest?

  Why is this Man distinguish’d from the Rest?

  Whose soaring Genius now sublime aspires, 230

  And deathless Fame the due Reward requires.

  Approving Heav’n th’exalted Virtue views,

  Nor can the Claim which it approves refuse.

  The Great Creator soon the Grant resolves,

  And in his mighty Mind the Means revolves. 235

  He thought; Nor doubted once, again to chuse,

  But spake the Word, and made th’immortal Muse.

  Ne’er did his Pow’r produce so bright a Child,

  On whose Creation Infant Nature smil’d.

  Perfect at first, a finish’d Form she wears, 240

  And Youth perpetual in her Face appears.

  Th’assembled Gods who long expecting staid,

  With new Delight gaze on the lovely Maid,

  And think the wish’d-for World was well delay’d.

  Nor did the Sire himself his Joy disguise, 245

  But stedfast view’d, and fix’d, and fed his Eyes.

  Intent a Space, at length he Silence broke,

  And thus the God the Heav’nly Fair bespoke.

  To thee, Immortal Maid, from this bless’d Hour,