The works of the poets of Great Britain and Ireland. With prefaces, biographical and critical, by S. Johnson

CLXIX.

DRYDEN'S

Defigning, fubtle, diligent, and close,
They knew to manage war with wife delay:
Yet all thofe arts their vanity did cross,
And by their pride their prudence did betray.
CLXX.

Nor ftaid the English long; but well supply'd,
Appear as numerous as th' infulting foe:
The combat now by courage must be try'd,
And the fuccefs the braver nation show.

CLXXI.

There was the Plymouth squadron row come in,
Which in the Straights laft winter was abroad;
Which twice on Bifcay's working bay had been,
And on the midland fea the French had aw'd.
CLXXII.

Old expert Allen, loyal all along,

Fam'd for his action on the Smyrna fleet :
And Holmes, whofe name fhall live in epic fong,
While mufic numbers, or while verfe has feet.
CLXXIII.

Holmes, the Achates of the general's fight;
Who first bewitch'd our eyes with Guinea gold:
As once old Cato in the Roman fight

The tempting fruits of Airic did unfold,
CLXXIV.

With him went Sprag, as bountiful as brave,
Whom his high courage to command had brought:
Harman, who did the twice-fir'd Harry fave,

And in his buming fhip undaunted fought.
CLXXV.

Young Hollis on a Mufe by Mars begot,

Forn, Cafar like, to write and act great deeds:
Impatient to revenge his fatal fhot,

His right hand doubly to his left fucceeds.
CLXXVI.

Thoufands were there in darker fame that divell,
fhall adorn:
poem
Whofe deeds fome nobler

POEMS.

CLXXXII.

The Belgians hop'd that, with disorder'd hafte,
Our deep-cut keels upon the fands might run:
Or if with caution le furely were paft,

Their numerous grofs might charge us one by one
CLXXXIII.

Eut with a forewind pushing them above,

And fwelling tide that heav'd them from below,
O'er the blind flats our warlike fquadrons move,
And with spread fails to welcome battle go.
CLXXXIV.

It feem'd as there the British Neptune flood,
With all his hofts of waters at command,
Beneath them to fubmit th' officious flood;
And with his trident fhov'd them off the fand.
CLXXXV.

To the pale fors they fuddenly draw near,
And fummon thein to unexpected fight:
They fart like murderers when ghofts appear,
And draw their curtains in the dead of night.
CLXXXVI.

Now van to van the foremost squadrons meet,
The midmoft battles haftening up behind:
Who view far off the form of falling fleet,
And hear their thunder rattling in the wind.
CLXXXVII.

At length the adverfe admirals appear;

The two bold champions of each country's right:
Their eyes defcribe the lifts as they come near,
And draw the lines of death before they fight.
CLXXXVIII.

The distance judg`d for fhot of every fize,

The linflocs touch, the ponderous ball expires:
The vigorous feaman every port-hole plies
And adds his heart to every gun he fires!
CLXXXIX.

Fierce was the fight on the proud Belgians fide,
For honour, which they feldom fought before:

And though to me unknown, they fure fought well,But now they by their own vain boafts were ty'd,
Whom Rupert led, and who were British born.

CLXXVII.

Of every fize an hundred fighting fail,
So vaft the navy now at anchor rides,
That underneath it the prefs'd waters fail,

And with its weight it foulders on the tides.
CLXXVIII.

Now anchors weigh'd the feamen fhout fo fhrill,
That heaven and earth and the wide ocean rings
A breeze from weftward waits their fails to fili,

And refts in thofe high beds his downy wings.
CLXXIX.

The wary Dutch this gathering ftorm forefaw,
And durft not bide it on the English coaft:
Behind their treacherous thallows they withdraw,
And there lay fnares to catch the Britifh hoft.
CLXXX.

So the falfe fpider, when her nets are spread
Deep amabush'd in her filent den d'oes lie:
And feels far off the trembling of the thread,
Whose filmy cord should bind the struggling fly.
CLXXXI.

Then if at laft fhe find him fast beset,

She iffues forth and runs along her loom :
She joys to touch the captive in her net,

And drags the little wretch in triumph home.

And forc'd at least in fhew to prize it more.
CXC.

But fharp remembrance on the Erglish part,
And fhame of being match'd by fuch a foe,
Rouze confcious virtue up in every heart,
And feming to be stronger makes them fo.
CXCI.

Nor long the Belgians could that fleet fuftair,
Which did two generals' fates, and Cæfar's bear:
Each feveral thip a victory did gain,

As Rupert or as Albemarle were there.

CXCII.

Their batter'd admiral teo foon withdrew,
Urthank'd by ours for his unfinish'd fight:
But he the minds of his Dutch mafters knew,
Who call'd that providence which we call'd flight,
CXCIII.

Never did men more jo fully obey,

Or fooner understood the fign to fly:

With fuch alacrity they bore away,

As if to praise them all the Sates flood by.
CXCIV.

O famous leader of the Belgian fleet,

Thy monument infcrib'd fuch praife fhall wear,
As Varro timely flying once did meet,
Because he did not of his Rome defpair.

E 2

CXCV.

Behold that navy, which a while before Provok'd the tardy English clofe to fight; Now draw their beaten veffels clofe to thore, As larks lie dar'd to fhun the hobbies flight.

CXCVI.

Whoe'er would English monuments furvey,
In other records may our courage know:
But let them hide the ftory of this day,

Whofe fame was blemish'd by too bafe a foe.

CXCVII.

Or if too bufily they will enquire

Into a victory which we difdain; Then let them krow the Belgians did retire Before the patron faint of injur'd Spain.

CXCVIII.

Repenting England this revengeful day
To Philip's manes did an offering bring:
England, which firft by leading them aftray,
Hatch'd up rebellion to destroy her king.

CXCIX.

Our fathers bent their baneful industry,
To check a monarchy that flowly grew;
But did not France or Holland's fate forefee,
Whofe rifing power to swift dominion flew.
CC.

In fortune's empire blindly thus we go,

And wander after pathlefs deftiny; Whofe dark reforts fince prudence cannot know, In vain it would provide for what shall be CCI.

But whate'er English to the blefs'd fhall ro, And the fourth Harry or first Orange meet; Find him difowning of a Fourbon foe,

And him detefting a Batavian flect.

CCXIV.

Till, fully ripe, his fwelling fate breaks out,
And hurries him to mighty mifchiefs on;
His prince, furpriz'd at firft, no ill could doubt,
And wants the power to meet it when 'tis known.
CCXV.

Such was the rife of this prodigious fire,
Which in mean buildings first obfcurely bred,
From thence did foon to open streets afpire,
And ftraight to palaces and temples spread.
CCXVI.

The diligence of trade and noifeful gain,

And luxury more late, afleep were laid: All was the night's; and in her filent reign No found the reft of nature did invade.

CCXVII.

In this deep quiet, from what fource unknown,
Thofe feeds of fire their fatal birth difclofe;
And first few fcattering sparks about were blown,
Big with the flames that to our ruin rose.
CCXVIII.

Then in fome close pent room it crept along,
And fmouldering as it went, in filence fed;
Till th' infant monfter with devouring strong,
Walk'd boldly upright with exalted head.

The next to danger, hot purfued by fate,

Half-cloath'd, half-naked, haftily retire: And frighted mother, ftrike their breaits too late, For helpless infants left amidst the fire. CCXXVII.

Their cries foon waken all the dwellers near; Now murmuring no.fes rife in every street: The more remote run ftumbling with their fear, And in the dark men juftle as they meet. CCXXVIII.

So weary bees in little cells repofe;

But if night-robbers lift the well-ftor'd hive, An humming through their waxen city grows, And out upon each other's wings they drive.

CCXXIX.

Now ftreets grow throng'd and busy as by day: Some run for buckets to the hallow'd quire: Some cut the pipes, and fome the engines play; And fome more bold mount ladders to the fire.

CCXXX.

In vain: for from the East a Belgian wind

His hoftile breath through the dry rafters fent; The flames impell'd foon left their foes behind, And forward with a wanton fury went.

CCXXXL

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 wondering fish in shining waters gaze.
CCXXXII.

Old father Thames rais'd up his reverend head,
But fear'd the late of Simois would return :
Deep in his ooze he fought his fedgy bed,
And fhrunk his waters back into his urn

CCXXXIII.

The fire, mean-time, walks in a broader gross;
To either hand his wings he opens wide:
He wades the streets, and straight he reaches cross,
And plays his longing flames on th' other fide.

CCXXXIV.

At first they warm, then fcorch, and then they take; Now with long necks from fide to fide they feed: At length grown ftrong their mother-fire forfu.ke, And a new colony of flames fucceed.

CCXXXV.

To every nobler portion of the town

The curling billows roll their reftlefs tide: in parties row they ftraggle up and down, As armies unoppos'd for prey divide. CCXXXVI.

One mighty fquadron, with a fide-wind fped, Through narrow lanes his cumber'd fire does hafte, By powerful charms of gold and filver led,

The Lombard bankers and the Change to waste.

CCXXXVII.

Another backward to the Tower would go,

And flowly eats his way against the wind: Eut the main body of the marching foe Against th' imperial palace is defign'd.

CCXXXVIII.

Now day appears, and with the day the king, Whofe early care had robb'd him of his reft: Far off the cracks of falling houfes ring,

And fhrieks of fubjects pierce his tender breast.

CCXXXIX.

Near as he draws, thick harbingers of finoke
With gloomy pillars cover all the place;
Whofe little intervals of right are broke
By fparks, that drive against his facred face.

CCXL.

More than his guards his forrows made him known,
And pious tears which down his cheeks did shower:
The wretched in his grief torgot their own;
So much the pity of a king has power.

CCXLI.
He wept the flames of what he lov'd fo well,
And what fo well had merited his love:
For never prince in grace did more excel,
Or royal city more in duty ftrove.
CCXLII.

Nor with an idle care did he behold:

Subjects may grieve, but monarchs may redress; He chears the fearful, and commends the bold, And makes despairers hope for good fuccefs.

CCXLIII.

Himfelf directs what first is to be done,
And orders all the fuccours which they bring :
The helpful and the good about him run,
And form an army worthy fuch a king.

CCXLIV.

He fees the dire cortagion spread so fast,
That where it feizes all relief is vain :
And therefore muft unwillingly lay wafte

That country, which would elfe the foe maintain.
CCXLV.

The powder blows up all before the fire:

Th' amazed flames ftand gather'd on a heap; And from the precipice's brink retire,

Afraid to venture on fo large a leap.

CCXLVI.

Thus fighting fires a while themselves confume,
But ftraight like Turks forc'd on to win or die,
They first lay tender bridges of their fume,
And o'er the breach in unctuous vapours fly.
CCXLVII.

Part ftay for paffage, till a guft of wind

Ships o'er their forces in a fhining sheet:
Part creeping under ground their journey blind,
And climbing from below their fellows meet.
CCXLVIII.

Thus to fome defert plain, or old wood-fide,
Dire night-hags come from far to dance their round;
And o'er broad rivers on their fiends they ride,
Or fweep in clouds above the blasted ground.

CCXLIX.

No help avails: for, hydra-like, the fire

Lifts up his hundred heads to aim his way: And scarce the wealthy can one half retire, Before he rushes in to fhare the prey.

CCL.

The rich grow fuppliant, and the poor grow proud:
Thofe otter mighty gain, and these ask more:
So void of pity is th' ignoble crowd,

When others ruin may increase their flore.

CCLI.

As those who live by fhores with joy behold
Some wealthy verfel split or stranded nigh;
And from the rocks leap down for fhipwreck'd gold,
And feek the temperts which the others fly:
CCLII.

So thefe but wait the owners laft despair,

And what's permitted to the flames invade ;
Ev'n from their jaws they hungry morfels tear,
And on their backs the fpoils of Vulcan lade.
CCLIII.

The days were all in this loft labour spent;
And when the weary king gave place to night,
His beams he to his royal brother lent,

And fo fhone ftill in his reflective light.

CCLIV.

Night came, but without darkness or repose,
A difmal picture of the general doom;
Where fouls diftracted when the trumpet blows,
And half unready with their bodies come.

CCLV.

Thofe who have homes, when home they do repair,
To a laft lodging call their wandering friends:
Their fhort uneafy fleeps are broke with care,

To look how near their own deftruction tends.
CCLVI.

Those who have none, fit round where once it was,
And with full eyes each wonted room require:
Haunting the yet warm ashes of the place,
As murder'd men walk where they did expire.
CCLVII.

Some ftir up coals and watch the vestal fire,
Others in vain from fight of ruin run;
And while through burning labyrinths they retire,
With loathing eyes repcat what they would thun.
CCLVIII.

The most in fields like herded beafts lie down,
To dews obnoxious on the grassy floor;
And while their babes in fleep their forrows drown,
Sad parents watch the remnants of their store.
CCLIX.

While by the motion of the flames they guess
What streets are burning now, and what are near,
An infant waking to the paps would prefs,
And meets, inftead of milk, a falling tear.
CCLX.

No thought can eafe them but their fovereign's care,
Whofe praife th' afflicted as their comfort fing:
Ev'r thofe, whom want might drive to just despair,
Think life a bleffing under fuch a king.

CCLXI.

Mean-time he fadly fuffers in their grief,

Out-weeps an hermit, and out-prays a faint:

All the long night he ftudies their relief,
How they may be supph'd, and he may want.
CCLXII.

O God, faid he, thou patron of my days,

Guide of my youth in exile and diftrefs!
Who me unfriended brought'ft by wondrous ways,
The kingdom of my fathers to poliefs :
CCLXII.

Be thou my judge, with what unweary'd care
I fince have Labour'd for my people's good;
To bind the bruises of a civil war,

And ftop the iffues of their afting blood.

CCLXIV.

Thou who haft taught me to forgive the ill,
And recompenfe as friends the good mified;
If mercy be a precept of thy will,

Return that mercy on thy fervant's head.
CCLXV.

Or if my heedlefs youth has step'd astray,
Too foon forgetful of thy gracious band;
On me alone thy juft difpieasure lay,
But take thy judgments from this mourning land.
CCLXVI.

We all have finn'd, and thou haft laid us low,
As humble earth from whence at first we came :
Like flying fhades before the clouds we show,
And shrink like parchment in confuming flame.

CCLXVII.

DRYDEN'S

O let it be enough what thou haft done;

POEMS.

CCLXXIX.

In th' empyrean heaven, the blefs'd abode,
The thrones and the dominions proftrate lie,

When fpotted deaths ran arm'd through every street,
With poifon'd darts which not the good could fhun,Not daring to behold their angry Cod;
The ípeedy could out-fiy, or valiant meet.

CCLXVIII.

The living few, and frequent funerals then,
Proclaim'd thy wrath on this for faken place:
And now thofe few who are return'd again,
Thy fearching judgments to their dwellings trace.
CCLXIX.

O pafs not, Lord, an abfolute decree,
Or bind thy fentence unconditional:
But in thy fentence our remorse forefee,

And in that forefight this thy doom recal.

CCLXX.

Thy threatenings, Lord, as thine thou may'st revoke:
But if immutable and fix'd they stand,
Continue ftill thyfelf to give the stroke,

And let not foreign foes opprefs thy land.
CCLXXI.

Th' Eternal heard, and from the heavenly quire
Chofe out the cherub with the flaming fword;
And bade him fwiftly drive th' approaching fire
From where our naval magaz.nes were flor'd.
CCLXXII.

The bleffed minifter his wings difplay'd,

And like a shooting star he cleft the night:
He charg'd the flames, and thofe that difohey'd
He lashed to duty with his fword of light.
CCLXXIII.

The fugitive flames chastis'd went forth to prey
On pious structures, by our fathers rear'd;
By which to heaven they did affect the way,
Ere faith in churchmen without works was heard.

CCLXXIV.

The wanting orphans faw with watery eyes,
Their founders charity in duft laid low;
And fent to God their ever-anfwer'd cries,

For he protects the poor, who made them fo.
CCLXXV.

Nor could thy fabric, Paul's, defend thee long,
Though thou wert facred to thy Maker's praife:
Though made immortal by a poet's fong;

And poets fongs the Theban walls could raife.
CCLXXVI.

The daring flames peep'd in, and faw from far
The awful beauties of the facred quire:
But, fince it was prophan'd by c.vil war,
Heaven thought it fit to have it purg'd by fire.
CCLXXVIL

Now down the narrow streets it swiftly came,
And widely opening did on both fides prey:
This benefit we fadly owe the flame,

If only ruin must enlarge our way.
CCLXXVIII.

And now four days the fun had feen our woes :
Four nights the moon beheld th' inceffant fire :
It feem'd as if the stars more fickly rose,
And farther from the feverish north retire

And an huth'd filence damps the tuneful iky.
CCLXXX.

At length th' Almighty cast a pitying eye,
And mercy foitly touch d his melting breaft:
He faw the town's one half in rubbish lie,
And eager flames drive on to form the rest.
CCLXXXI.

An hallow cryftal pyramid he takes,
In firmamental waters dipt al ove;
Cf it a broad extinguisher he males,
And hoods the flames that to their quarry drove.
CCLXXXII.

The vanquish'd fires withdraw from every place,
Or full with feeding fink into a fleep:
Each boufhold genius fhews again his face,
And from the hearths the little lares creep.

CCLXXXIII.

Our king this more than natural change beholds;
With fober joy his heart and eyes at ound:

To the All-good his lifted hands he folds,
And thanks him low on his redeemed ground.
CCLXXXIV.

As when sharp frosts had long constrain'd the earth
A kindly thaw unlocks it with cold rain;
And frit the tender biade peeps up to birth,
And ftraight the green fields laugh with promis'd
grain :

CCLXXXV.

By fuch degrees the spreading gladness grew
In every heart which fear had froze before:
That with lefs grief the perith'd they deplore.
The standing streets with fo much joy they view,
CCLXXXVI.

The father of the people open'd wide

His itores, and all the poor with plenty fed: Thus God's anointed God's own place fupply'd, And fill'd the empty with his daily bread.

CCLXXXVII.

This royal bounty brought its own reward,
And in their minds fo deep did print the fenfe;
That if the ruins fadly they regard,

'Tis but with fear the fight might drive him
thence.

CCLXXXVIII.
But fo may he live long, that town to fway,
Which by his aufpice they will nobler make,
As he will hatch their afhes by his stay,

And not their humble ruins now forfake.

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The works of the poets of Great Britain and Ireland. With prefaces ..., Volym 3