Upon the marriage of Prince George of Denmark with the Lady Anne: And his being install'd Knight of the Garter. A Pindarick poem.

UPON THE MARRIAGE OF Prince George of Denmark WITH THE LADY ANNE : And his being Install'd Knight of the Garter . A Pindarick POEM . Vt gaudent pater AEneas & avunculus Hector . Virg. I. ALmighty Love ! who can thy Ways define ? Thou small Intreaguing God , thou' rt all Design ; Thy Quiver and thy Darts are farther known Than the gay wandring Bow which in the Clouds is shewn ; Thou keep'st the Gods themselves in awe By thy Universal Law . Jove , though amidst his stores of Rain and Hail , Against thy Secret Flames can nought prevail ; Thou breakest through his Guards , and with thy Dart Dost pierce the groaning Monarch to the Heart . Neptune , though all around with Waves opprest , Yet by the Ocean finds his Love increast , Like Water which on Fire 's cast . Nay , thou beyond the Tropicks canst approach , Where Sol in all his Journey dare not touch , Let it be Torrid , or the Frigid Zone , There an Empire thou dost own , Which wou'd both Temperate be , Were it not , bold God , for Thee . Denmark , which lies remoter from the Sun , With as brisk Flames , we find , as Britain burn : Thou first didst fire the Prince's Heart , Then to Her Breast the Message streight impart ; He own'd thy Power , and never stay'd , But thy Godship soon obey'd : Led by thy Light through rowling Seas he mov'd To meet his Royal Love . He fear'd no Rocks that lay between , So that within her Breast none cou'd be seen . He fear'd not what from Seas and Winds cou'd come , So that her Breath did not pronounce his fatal Doom . Thus Vesta's Flame it self did once maintain Through the black Deep , till it the Port did gain , Till it at Rome had reach'd the Sacred Fane . Nor did he long expect his Doom , He did but Come , and See , and Overcome . By Parlee and Capitulation In ten days space her Virgin Fort he wone . An easier Conquest Jove cou'd never boast , No Mistress ever stood him in less cost , When Cloister'd Danae he wou'd gain , To bribe her Keepers he was fain ; With Gold his Godship then was forc'd to buy New Morsels and Supplies for his Almighty Luxury . II. Pardon , Blest Pair , these rude unpolisht Lines , With which a Loyal Muse wou'd now approach your Shrines ; Like some young Virgin , who when half undrest , ( Around her loosely cast her Vest ) Into the Croud with eager steps does goe To gaze and wonder at the pompous Show . Wellcome , Great Prince , to our Once happy Shore ( For this one time , dear Land , thy pardon I implore ) For many years the Pride of all the Floud , The Envy of the Western World it stood ; In this our Isle , as once of Rhodes was said , The Sun was never thought to hide his Head : Antiquity with all its searching eyes , Cou'd never fancy or devise , That once in Aegypt , or in Albion Clouds cou'd rise . Let Fortunate or Happy now no longer be its name , But style it henceforth Europe's shame : As in Greek Story , we of Countreys reade , That for their Sins have often chang'd their Breed ; Of Men or Manners , so , no more appears , But all are here transform'd to Lions , Dogs and Bears III. But the Mistaken World may fancy yet That Happiness here keeps her peacefull Seat , Who see our thronged Streets still ebb and flow With Waves of people crowding to and fro ; Who with such artfull beauty and surprise See all our Palaces and Temples rise , Who see our Navies daily plow the Main , With a full Harvest blest of dear-bought gain ; Some fraighted with the Golden Spoils o' th' West , Some with the shining Entrails of the East : So a poor Swain viewing a Tyrant's state , With secret envy does applaud his fate , But yet ne'er learns to prize his own dear peacefull Rest , Nor sees those inward flames that wrack the gaudy Pageant 's Breast . Thus Aetna to the distant Sailers fight . Shews with a Top that 's verdant , flourishing and bright , But yet within its burning Womb contains Nothing but Brimstone , Lime , and scorching sulphurous Veins . IV. Yet from these Mists , Great Sir , that darken all the Air A sudden Joy does dart , and scatter our despair , When thus by you a way we open'd find How the Fates may still be kind , How by your Royal Progeny We and our Sons may ever happy be . So have I seen a kind auspicious Star Shine forth , and guide the wandring Traveller , While all else stood with thickest Night beset , This sparkled like a Diamond set in Jet . So from two warring Clouds black teeming Womb Oft have I seen the frisking Lightning come , And trembling run o'er all the Azure way , And with its Light create a short-liv'd Day . Th' unruly Many now shall cease to rage , Or ever more disturb the Age. No more shall Schism , and bold Anarchy Among our English Manufactures numbred be ; Pale Faction now shall hang its drooping head , It shall be through the World exprest That Oracles are once more ceas'd , That the Old Cause , the mighty Pan is dead . These curst heart-burnings and ill-boding Flames Shall hence be exorcis'd by your Illustrious Name , As Culinary Fire , In the Sun's beams does lose its force ; and streight expire . The giddy Rabble , and the Beasts of Prey , Shall by your Nuptial Fires be scar'd away , As men in Africa do Bonfires rear , To keep 'em from the Lion and the Savage Bear . Then let our Brittish Annals talk no more Of one St. George , his Deeds , and wondrous Power , This is the Man ; him the Great ORDER shall In future times their Saint and Patron call , And what before was Legend , Fable , Lie , Shall pass for current and Authentick History .