Thofe fields of fea, that wash'd our shores,

Were plow'd and reap'd by other hands than ours:

To us, the liquid mafs,

Which doth about us run,

As it is to the fun,

Only a bed to fleep on was:

And not as now a powerful throne,

To shake and fway the world thereon.

Our princes in their hand a globe did fhew,

But not a perfect one,

Compos'd of earth and water too.

But thy commands the floods obey'd,
Thou all the wilderness of water fway'd:
Thou didst not only wed the fea,

Not make her equal, but a flave to thee.
Neptune himself did bear thy yoke,
Stoop'd, and trembled at thy ftroke:
He that ruled all the main,
Acknowledg'd thee his fovereign :

And now the conquer'd fea doth pay

More tribute to thy Thames than that unto the sea.

XIV.

'Till now our valour did ourselves more hurt;

Our wounds to other nations were a sport;

And as the earth, our land produc'd

Iron and steel, which fhould to tear ourselves be us❜d: Our strength within itself did break,

Like thundering cannons crack,

And kill'd those that were near,

While th' enemies fecur'd and untouch'd were.

But

But now our trumpets thou haft made to found
Against their enemies walls in foreign ground;
And yet no echo back to us returning found.
England is now the happy peaceful isle,
And all the world the while
Is exercifing arms and wars
With foreign or inteftine jars.

The torch extinguish'd here, we lent to others oil.
We give to all, yet know ourselves no fear;
We reach the flame of ruin and of death,
Where'er we please our swords t' unsheath,
Whilft we in calm and temperate regions breathe:
Like to the fun, whofe heat is hurl'd
Through every corner of the world;

Whose flame through all the air doth go,

And yet the fun himself the while no fire does know.

XV.

Befides, the glories of thy peace

Are not in number nor in value lefs.
Thy hand did cure, and close the scars
Of our bloody civil wars;

Not only lanc'd but heal'd the wound,
Made us again as healthy and as found:
When now the ship was well nigh lost,
: After the ftorm upon the coaft,

By its mariners endanger'd most ;

When they their ropes and helms had left,
When the planks afunder cleft,

And

And floods came roaring in with mighty found,
Thou a fafe land and harbour for us found,

And favedft those that would themselves have drown'd;
A work which none but heaven and thou could do,
Thou mad❜ft us happy whether we would or no
Thy judgment, mercy, temperance fo great,
As if those virtues only in thy mind had feat:
Thy piety not only in the field, but peace,
When heaven feem'd to be wanted leaft;
Thy temples not like Janus only were
Open in time of war,

When thou hadft greater cause to fear :
Religion and the awe of heaven poffeft
All places and all times alike thy breast.

XVI.

Nor didft thou only for thy age provide,
But for the years to come befide;

Our after-times and late pofterity

Shall pay unto thy fame as much as we;

They too are made by thee.

When fate did call thee too a higher throne,

And when thy mortal work was done,

When heaven did fay it, and thou must be gone,
Thou him to bear thy burden chose,

Who might (if any could) make us forget thy lofs;
Nor hadft thou him defign'd,

Had he not been

Not only to thy blood, but virtue kin, Not only heir unto thy throne, but mind:

'Tis he fhall perfect all thy cares,

And with a finer thread weave out thy loom :

So one did bring the chofen people from

Their flavery and fears,

Led them through their pathless road;

Guided himself by God,

H'as brought them to the borders; but a fecond hand Did fettle and fecure them in the promis'd land.

To a Person of Honour (Mr. EDWARD HOWARD) upon his Incomparable, Incomprehenfible Poem, intituled The BRITISH PRINCES.

You

OUR book our old knight-errants fame revives,
Writ in a style agreeing with their lives.
All rumours ftrength their prowess did out-go,
All rumours skill your verfes far out-do:

To praife the Welsh the world must now combine,
Since to their leeks do
you your laurel join :
Such lofty ftrains your country's story fit,
Whofe mountain nothing equals but your wit.
Bonduca, were the fuch as here we fee

(In British paint), none could more dreadful be:
With naked armies fhe encounter'd Rome,
Whofe ftrength with naked nature you o'ercome.
Nor let fmall critics blame this mighty queen,
That in king Arthur's time fhe here is seen :

You

You that can make immortal by your fong,
May well one life four hundred years prolong.
Thus Virgil bravely dar'd for Dido's love,
The fettled courfe of time and years to move,
Though him you imitate in this alone,

In all things elfe you borrow help from none :
No antique tale of Greece or Rome you take,
Their fables and examples you forfake.
With true heroic glory you display
A fubject new, writ in the newest way.

Go forth, great author, for the world's delight;
Teach it, what none e'er taught you, how to write
They talk strange things that ancient poets did;
How trees and ftones they into buildings lead :
For poems to raise cities, now,
'tis hard,

;

But yours, at least, will build half Paul's churchyard.

S

On his MISTRESS DROWN'D.

WEET ftream, that doft with equal pace

Both thyself fly and thyfelf chace,

Forbear awhile to flow,

And liften to my woe.

Then go and tell the fea that all its brine
Is fresh, compar'd to mine :

Inform it that the gentler dame,
Who was the life of all my flame,