A Pindarick ode on His Majesties return from the campaign, 1691.

A Pindarick Ode ON HIS Majesties Return from the Campaign , 1691. I. LET me adore thee , Virtue ; for thou art Of the Divinity a part . A part ! a mighty part ! the spacious Ball , By no less ligament to be secur'd , Owns thee her active heat , her Vital Soul ; By thee the good by whom thou art ador'd , Are to their Glories here and their lost first restor'd . Whether on Earth our Eyes we bend , Or view the liquid Ocean from the Land , Thy Charms diffusive are as thy Command . War , Famine , Plague , and all the Ills , we find Showr'd down on reprobate mankind , Lessen 't is true our Humane Race ; But stifle not thy glorious Praise : That like a Palm depress'd does higher rise , And tours to its Original Empire far above the Skies II . How then are poor mankind engag'd ? How are thy humble Votaries oblig'd To fix the mighty Pillars of thy Love Below , as Heav'n has fix'd them safe above ? What ? that I may thy mighty due Into a fair Compendium draw . What does this Land ( thy Charge ) to thy protection owe ? 't is true too many daily do desert Thy good , thy persecuted Cause : Too many more abuse thy sacred Laws : Yet still thou 'rt of Divinity a part . Thou knowest there are a glorious few , ( Oh that the multitude were so ! ) Thou know'st it , & hast lodg'd their safety in thy heart . III . Ah! may it be allow'd the wise E'ne to presume Impossibilities . Ah had ( tho then th' adst ceas'd to be , I 'le still presume impossibility ) Had our one frailty of Revenge Inspir'd thy nobler Mass ? Had Pride usurp'd good Natures place , And made this ugly and unnatural Change ? How had we fall'n ? how had a Flood Of monstrous and ignoble Blood , Glutted the malice of our Foes ? How had our Passions made us sure to lose ? How had the Vices of a Nation , Ruin'd thy Care , and murder'd thy Compassion ? For still , oh Virtue , I suppose Thee great . I deem thee glorious ; Full as thou art of Charms Divine , Only incens'd at Humane Sin , And sought of Envy thou receiv'dst her justly in . IV . Then had old Horrours rose again ; Our miseries had flourish'd then ; Then e'ne thy former Mercies had been vain . In vain on raging Seas , in vain on Shore , Th' adst guarded safe the Conquerour . In vain the Winds had thee obey'd , In vain with Omnipotent Aid , He our Redemption had essay'd . In vain the Hero on the Boyne Had stood , himself the Soul of War , Re●uking dangers rolling from afar , To save the Subject venturing the King . In vain too from the Jaws of Fate Didst thou the King emancipate . The King , the Hero , or the God , That while the Bullets round him rode , All unconcern'd as Innocence , By his couragious influence O'recame pale death's tremendous Dart , And struck him chatt'ring back into his Enemies heart . V. Nor hadst thou thus fulfill'd our Woes , If thou hadst nipt his Lawrels thus . Vast Scenes of Glory , and Divine , Tho there are dangerous Gulphs between , Must teach the gazing World their due esteem . See where he moves , see where he flies Alike the terrour of his Enemies . See where his Foes his Looks revere . See where he dares the chance of War More than a King so lov'd should dare . Oh Virtue , Virtue , hadst thou ta'ne Our Vices in remembrace then , Scarce had the pious few prevail'd , Scarce had our Vows that Heaven assayl'd , That Heaven assayl'd and storm'd thy Throne , Scarce had their goodness , scarce his own Had brought this preservation down . But I 'le adore thee Virtue ; for thou art Of the Divinity a part , And he that loves thee and reveres Thy nameless Beauties , spotless Stars , Has nought to doubt , nor ought to fear ; Thou hast Eternal Crowns , and mak'st him triumph here . VI . Witness thy last engaging Love , Which with the Just does further weigh Than all the Lawrels , all the Bay That e're confirm'd the sacred dooms above . Yet he still triumphs , still is is aw'd Without the Characters of blood , Own'd by his Enemies , Great ; and by the Wiser , Good . Mercy the dearest Attribute of Heav'n , And only to Heav'ns Darling giv'n , Does ( if it can , and sure it may When Rebels with its Lightning play ) In him too splendid and transparent shine , And makes him too secure , altho divine . But pardon , Virtue , 't is amiss To blame thy darling and thy choice ; To which we wretched mortals owe , In his the mighty preservation Of a proud , stubborn , and conceited Nation , And his long wish'd for Restoration now . VII . Hail thou Example of the Just , Whom Heav'n and Men are glad to trust ! Hail thou delight and darling of the good ! The terrour of our Vipers here , That would their Mothers Bowels tear , And the Eternal Scourge of those abroad . See where thy People blest in such a King , Their Incense and Oblations bring . Thou sav'dst their lives , and 't is but fit , They lay their Livings at thy Feet . Thou gav'st them Liberty , their best Estate ; ( Which some would purchase too at any rate : ) Nay , to secure their Freedom and their Laws , Thou dost thy sacred Self expose . Bounty immense ! what dost thou then require ? What but a Seal to stamp our Safeties here ? On may we gladly then comply With our own Interests . For Liberty None can esteem too much , and none can dearly buy .