ODE / ON THE / ANNIVERSARY / OF THE / KING’S BIRTH / BY / THO. SHADWELL, Poet Laureat, and / Historiographer-Royal
Welcome, thrice welcome, this Auspicious Morn,
On which the Great Nassau was Born,
Sprung from a Mighty Race which was design’d
For the Deliv’rers of Mankind.
Illustrious Heroes, whose prevailing Fates
Rais’d the Distress’d, to High and Mighty States;
And did by that possess more true Renown,
Than their Adolphus gain’d by the Imperial Crown.
They cool’d the Rage, humbled the Pride of Spain
But since the Insolence of France no less,
Had brought the States into Distress,
But that a precious Scien did remain
From that Great Boot, which did shock sustain,
And made them High and Mighty once again.
This Prince for us, was Born to make us free
From the most abject Slavery.
Thou hast restored out Laws their force again;
We still shall Conquer on the Land by thee;
By thee shall Triumph on the Main.
But thee a Fate much more sublime attends,
Europe for Freedom on thy Sword depends;
And thy Victorious Arms shall tumble down
The Savage Monster from the Gallick Throne:
To this Important Day, we all shall owe,
Oh Glorious Birth, from which such blest effects shall flow.
General / Chorus / of Voi / ces and / instru- / ments.
On this glad Day let every Voice,
And Instrument, Proclaim our Joys,
And let all Europe join in the Triumphant noise.
Io Triumphe let us Sing,
Io Triumphe let us Sing,
And let the sound through all the spacious Welkin Ring.
From thy fresh Lawrels shall the Olive spring,
Thy Victories shall bring us Peace,
And under Thee, our most Indulgent King,
Shall Industry and Arts increase
Quiet we shall possess, but not Inglorious Ease.
Then shall each fertile Mead, and grateful Field,
Amply reward our Care and Toil;
The Herds and Flocks vast increase shall yield,
Which raging War shall never spoil,
Free from Invading force, and from Intestine broil.
And though our Plenteous Isle shall need no more,
Than what its Soil for Natives does provide,
Yet added to its mighty store,
Whatever any Foreign Coast,
Of Plenty, or of Wealth can boast,
Shall on our Happy Shores flow in beside,
From the superfluous Bounty of each Tide.
No Av’rice or Ambition in the Great,
Shall under thee thy Godlike Power pervert,
Rewards nor Threats corrupt thy Judgement Seat;
Nor Trusts be gain’d but by desert,
While thy Great Self thy Wisdom shalt exert.
Then shall the Vile Ungrateful Murm’ring Band,
Whom our great Moses has set free
From Egypt Bondage, and Idolatry,
Glad to stumble to his Command;
For Shame their guilty Heads hang down,
Owing the best of Kings that ever fill’d the Throne.
Thus the Prophetick Muses say,
And all the Wise and Good will pray,
That they long, long, may Celebrate this Day.
Soon Haughty France shall bow, and Coz’ning Rome,
And Britain Mistress of the World become;
And from thy Wife, thy Godlike Sway,
Kings learn to Reign, and Subjects to Obey.
On this Blest Day let every Voice,
And, &c.
FINIS.
|