Peace triumphant., or, A congratulatory poem To celebrate the unspeakable benefits and blessings of peace, together with some grateful reflections upon King William the III. His excellent Majesties first coming to the crown, as a happy instrument in the hand of divine providence, to settle the affairs of the nation, and with the hazard of his own life to deliver us from near approaching ruine / written by Tho. Cheeseman.

PEACE TRIUMPHANT . OR , A Congratulatory Poem . To Celebrate the Unspeakable Benefits and Blessings of Peace , together with some Grateful Reflections upon King William the III. His Excellent Majesties first coming to the Crown , as a happy Instrument in the Hand of Divine Providence , to Settle the Affairs of the Nation , and with the Hazard of his own Life to deliver us from near Approaching Ruine . Written by Tho. Cheeseman , A. M. And formerly of Pemb. Coll. Oxon. Preacher of the Gospel now in East-Ilsly , Bark-shire . GIve me a Quill , snatch't from the Golden Wing Of some bright Seraphim , that I may Sing Loud Praises to the God of Israel , Who doth in Heavens Starry Palace dwell : Let the whole World his glorious Works declare , And all adore his Majesty with fear . The Seas proud Roaring Waves are in his Hand , He chains them up with Fetters made of Sand : The Sun that great resplendent King of Day , Compar'd with him , is but a lump of Clay ; Yea if a thousand Suns in one could joyn His dazling brightness would them all out-shine . Hail , Lightning , Thunder , Winds that fiercely blow , At his commanding Word both come and go ; The Nations of the Earth are in his Eyes But as a poor despised swarm of Flies . Their murmuring Tumults he can quickly still , And crush the stoutest that shall cross his Will : If he but hide his Face , the People mourn , But when he Smiles , their Comforts all return : The raging Storms of War are over blown , And Peace appears Triumphant in her Throne : Her Head with Olive-boughs is fairly crown'd , Chaste Turtles flutter all about her round : Her Garments made of Rain-bows to behold , With greater Lustre shine than Cloth of Gold ; Her Breath perfumes the Air , where e're she comes , Like costly Spices , or Arabian Gumms ; Her Eyes resemble Stars , that still dispence , Heart-chearing Beams , and precious influence ; Her Lips with Balsam and rich Nectar flow , Under her Feet sweet blushing Roses grow , And painted Violets lift up their Heads , As newly starting from their fragrant Beds : Mirth , Joy and Gladness wait upon this Queen , And youthful Pleasure cloathed all in Green ; An Adamantine Chain is in her Hand , Binding the Hearts of Men at her Command : Her charming Beauty sweetly does intice , Her smile alone creates a Paradice . Where ere she looks abroad or turns her Face , Wrath and Contention flie away apace : Weapons no more with purple Blood are stain'd , Heart-conquering Love the Victory has gain'd ; No quarrels now , but harmless , free from Crime , Such as may happen in the Summer-time ; When murmuring Streams of Water seem to chide , To find our Fields dress'd up with too much Pride , Or Flowers contend which shall the sweetest smell , Or Birds in Musick , which can most excell : Musick that Lulls the stubborn Winds asleep , And gently strokes them till they silence keep . The Stratagems of War are changed quite Into Devices used for Delight , To cheat the Feather'd Fowl , or Scalely Fish , Which furnish Riot with some costly Dish : And look what Skill the best Commanders show , Ordering their Men , when they to Battle go ; The same must Cooks now use with greater Care , Setting each Mess in Order to prepare A Dinner for nice Gallants at some Feast , So as to please the fancy of each Guest . No Trumpets sound , no hollow rattling Drum , Is heard to strike the neighbouring Eccho's dumb : Nor thundring Canons groan , that so much Death Should be accomplisht by their fatal Breath ; Bright Swords to Plow-shares turn'd , can only wound By making Furrows in the fruitful Ground . Armour hangs Rusty , by the naked Walls , None for his idle Pike or Musket calls : But rather take such Instruments in Hand As serve to cut the Corn , or Till the Land : No Warlike Troops the Traveller molest , But Shepherds in the Shade lie down to rest Their weary Limbs , and there in Safety sleep , Or when they Watch their bleating Flocks of Sheep They sound their Oaten-Pipes , and loudly sing , Till winding Vallies with their Eccho ring : The Trades-man in his Shop may live at Ease , And Ships securely Sail upon the Seas ; No sad Alarm , or disturbing Noise Of War-like Arms , shall spoil the Schollars Joys ; But in pursuit of Learning may go on , Till he can climb the Top of Helicon . Orpheus , they say , in Musick had such Skill , That he could Tame fierce Tygers at his Will ; The Hound would Court the Hare , and Lyons play With tender Lambs , forgetful of their Prey : This witty Fiction does to us declare , What Miracles by Peace performed are ; By which the hardest Hearts are mollifi'd , Wrath reconcil'd , and Malice laid aside , Oh! that these Halcyon Days might always last , And no black Cloud our Sun should over-cast : Let all grow Wise before it be too Late , And prize Gods Mercies at a higher Rate ; Let Dove-like Meekness and Compassion Reign , And tender-hearted Charity restrain Bitter revengeful Thoughts , let every one Weep for his Brothers Faults , and mend his own . Let Moderation sad Divisions heal , And cool the Heat of our mistaken Zeal ; Let none in Oyl and Butter steep his Words , While spite within is sharper than drawn Swords ; Rather let us in weighty Truths Unite ; And not for painted Ceremonies Fight ; Let none be lifted up with swelling Pride , As if he thought in Sol's bright Coach to Ride ; Forgetful of the dark and silent Grave Where he e're long a Bed of Dust must have . Let none his Soul for short-liv'd Pleasures sell , Such as may cost him endless Pains in Hell ; Let Riot no more turn Men in to Swine , Or Envy at his Neighbours Good repine : Nor let the Covetous Worldling any more That Death may prove him Rich , choose to live Poor , Let all Repent of such provoking Crimes , 'T is Reformation that must mend the Times . So shall the Earth bring forth a large Increase , And give us Plenty to maintain our Peace ; Both Hill and Vale , shall laugh with store of Corn , And pleasant Fruits our loaded Trees adorn ; While People all with Health and Safety bless'd ; In the soft Bosom of sweet Concord rest : The Name of Peace makes Musick , all Rejoice , And wellcome that with one consenting Voice . Loud Bells proclaim their Joy from Steeples high , And Flaming Bonfires kiss the Starry Skie : While Conduits flowing with rich sparkling Wine , Of publick Gladness give a costly Sign . But as when Morning , not yet fully dress'd , Peeps from her Rosie Chamber in the East , Those glist'ring Pearls of Dew that hang upon The Blades of Grass , are melted soon and gone ; Though for a time they make a goodly show , 'T is thus with all our Comforts here below : The best Estate on Earth is like a Flower , That flourishes and fadeth in an Hour : Then let not present Joys too much intice , Or make us fond to build upon the Ice ; Nor may such cheating Shadows us allure , As if they were for ever to endure : But let us set our Hearts on things above , A Treasure there is worth our dearest Love ; Where Christ , the King of Saints , in Glory Reigns , And for his Church Eternal Rest remains . Amidst both Foreign and Domestick Foes , Who can but wonder at our safe Repose ? That sounding Trumpets should no more awake Blood-thirsty War , his Sword in hand to take ; But lovely Concord with heart-winning Charms , Doth Silence every where the noise of Arms. Next unto God , I boldly may conclude , We owe the Tribute of our Gratitude , For this Transcendent Gift , to Him alone , Whom Providence has placed in the Throne . Were I a Poet whose rich Fancy stood Up to the Chin in the Castalian Flood ; Great Caesar ! had I now an hundred Tongues , A Throat of Brass , and Adamantine Lungs , Yet could I not your Vertues all rehearse , Much less contain them in this narrow Verse . Your hatred of Prophaneness , flaming Zeal For true Religion ; nor may I conceal Your Military Skill , and Courage bold , Venturing through showers of Bullets to uphold The Cause of God ; your choice Fidelity , Temperance , Justice , and sweet Clemency : Those rare Perfections which divided shine In other Men , and make them half Divine , In the fair Temple of your Royal Breast , They all con-center , and take up their rest . That prudent Monarch in whose Nuptial Bed , The White Rose grew united to the Red ; Or his Progenitors , which did advance Victorious Ensigns in the Heart of France , Never such Honour , nor such Glory wan , As you in managing this War have done . England oppressed with a load of Grief , Not knowing where to find the least Relief , Was like a Ship without a Pilot driven By angry Winds and Waves ; she cry'd to Heaven And Earth for Succour , at a Time of Need , You heard the cry , and pitying her with speed ; You but came over , and you over-came Whole Armies with the Terrour of your Name ; You freed this Nation in a happy Hour , From Popish Slavery , and lawless Power . Our great Physician , Wise and Fortunate , To heal the Bleeding Wounds of Church and State . Most of those Conquerors which have such glory , Both in the Roman and the Grecian Story , Did but for Gold , or vain Ambition Fight , But your just Arms do still maintain the Right Of poor oppressed People , and the Blood You shed , is but the Price of publick Good . What Wonders have been wrought by Sea and Land From time to time by the Almighty's Hand , Your Sacred Person to Defend and Save , From going down to an untimely Grave ? To strike at Heaven's Darling is but lost Labour , Your Foes have found it to their cost : The Lord of Hosts , great King , will be your Friend , While you his Church , and Gospel-Truth Defend ; The Golden Shield of His Protecting Grace , Will be your strongest Guard in every place . Under the Wings of Mercy you shall dwell , Secure from all the Plots of Rome and Hell : Success shall never fail , then may your Hand Exceed the Work perform'd in Ireland , Upon that Day when Boyn's fair Silver Floud , Did blush for shame , as stain'd with so much Blood ; Your Valour then gave such a fatal Blow To self-exalting France , as brought her low : Nor does your Matchless Bounty come behind The high Heroic Courage of your Mind ; Those Banish'd ones in France by you restor'd , How will they bless and magnifie the Lord , For prosp'ring your just Arms ! What Flouds of Tears Have been dry'd up by you ? what vexing Cares And heavy loads of Life-consuming Grief , Your Charitable Hand bringing Relief , Has taken off from many , and so turn'd The sad Complaints of those that long had mourn'd , Into Triumphant Songs of joyful Praise , Above the Stars this shall your Honour raise ? But must I strive in vain to count those Flowers , That paint the pleasant Springs perfumed Bowers ; Or tell the Fish that swim in Crystal Flouds , Or all the Leaves that grow in shady Woods ; That were an easier Task , than in this place To reckon all your Works of Princely Grace : You are the only Phoenix of this Age , All other Princes coming on the Stage Of Action , match'd with you , but Cyphers are , You the great Figure both in Peace and War . Happy the Royal Womb that brought you forth ; Happy the Country where you had your Birth : You to that People bring a greater Joy , And more Defence , than Hector did to Troy . Carthage no more of Hanibal shall boast , Nor Italy of Marius , though the Host Of Fierce Invading Cymbrians slain by him , Made Neighbouring Fields , with Streams of Blood to Swim : Nor may bold Scipio with you compare , Whom Virgil calls the Thunderbolt of War . These must give place to you , your Praises still The Silver Trumpet of loud Fame shall fill . Without a bleeding Heart none can declare What were the late Calamities of War ; Alecto Periwig'd with hissing Snakes , And her Two Sisters from the Stygian Lakes , Coming abroad , might Dance for Joy to see Their Rage exceeded by French Cruelty . When Towns in their own Ruines buried lay , And Wealthy Provinces became a Prey To proud , oppressing Lewis , whose desire Was to fill all with Storms of Blood and Fire ; Pale-Visag'd Death might as in Triumph Ride ; Those which the Sword did spare , by Famine dy'd ; Both Young and Old went to the Grave as fast As Leaves in Autumn from the Trees are cast : But Your great Wisdom doth sweet Peace restore , And call back Plenty banished before . Instead of Battels , Banquets may abound , Instead of Trumpets , Harp and Viol sound , Instead of mournfull Cryes , soft Musick may Charm list'ning Ears , and drive sad Care away . Tyrants have dreadfull Desolations made , While they their Neighbours by strong force invade ; All Law and Civil Justice , treading down , But You have gotten a Resplendent Crown By doing Good , and acts of Grace Divine , Which make you like the Sun it self to shine . WILLIAM the First by Arms his Throne did gain , But You the Third , as King of Hearts shall Reign : He by the Dint of Sword his Right did prove , You Conquer by the Potent Charmes of Love . Sworn Enemies of Piety and Peace , They needs must be whose Heads can never cease To hatch black Treason , and his Death conspire , Whose Worth none can Express , all must Admire . Atlas , as learned Poets us'd to fain , Did the whole Weight of Heavens Frame sustain , Thus as a Golden Pillar You now stand Bearing up all our Hopes throughout the Land : If Hellish Malice should procure your Fall , 'T woud soon make way for Englands Funeral . The Skie plow'd up shall yield large Crops of Corn , And glistering Stars this dunghil Earth adorn : Proteus his scalely Flocks shall all resort To Flowery Meadows , there to play and sport . Moist Streams of Water shall to Fire turn , And the salt Sea like Aetna's Furnace burn . All Nature's Statutes shall be changed quite , The Night shall turn to Day , and Day to Night , Sooner than your Renowned Works shall be Lost or Forgotten by Posterity . Your Royal Name shall make our Annals swell , And in our thankful Minds for ever dwell . Let then the King of Heaven on you pour The choicest Blessings in a Fruitful Shower , That Children yet unborn may Celebrate The Day when first you wore the Crown in State : Let all Success and Happiness attend Your Peaceful Reign , and Prosper't to THE END .