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Aflope a Summer Eve! Of all the Stars

Titled the first and faireft, thou didst hope
To share Divinity, or haply more,

Elated as Supream when o'er the North
Thy bloody Banner ftream'd, to rightful Kings
Portending ruinous Downfal; wond'rous low,
Opprobrious and detefted art thou thrown,
Difroab'd of all thy Splendors. Round thee stand
The fwarming Populace, and with fix'd Regard
Eying thee pale and breathless, spend their Rage
In taunting Speech, and jovial ask their Friends,
Is this THE MIGHTY, whofe Imperious Yoke
We bore reluctant; who to defart Wilds
And Haunts of Savages transform'd the Marts,
And Capital Cities raz'd, pronouncing Thrall
Or Exile on the Peerage? How becalm'd

The Tyrant lies, whose Noftrils used to breath
Tempefts of Wrath, and shook establish'd Thrones.

In folemn State the Bones of pious Kings, Gather'd to their Great Sires, are fafe repos'd Beneath the weeping Vault. But thou, a Branch Blasted and Curst by Heav'n, to Dogs and Fowls Art doom'd a Banquet; mingling fome Remains With Criminals unabfolv'd; on all thy Race Tranfmitting Guilt and Vengeance. From thy [Domes

Thy Children fculk erroneous and forlorn,
Fearing Perdition, and for Mercy fue
With Eyes uplift, and Tearful. From thy Seed
The Sceptre Heav'n refumes, by thee Ufurpt
By Guile and Force, and fway'd with lawless Rage.

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Written at Sea, by the late Earl of Dorfet, in the firft Dutch War.

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How hard it is to write;

The Mufes now, and Neptune too

We must implore to write to you.
With a Fa la, la, la, la.

II.

For tho' the Mufes fhou'd prove kind,
And fill our empty Brain,

Yet if rough Neptune rouze the Wind

To wave the azure Main,

[blocks in formation]

Our Paper, Pen and Ink, and we

Roul up and down our Ships at Sea.

With a Fa, &c.

III.

Then if we write not by each Poft
Think not we are unkind,

Nor yet conclude our Ships are lost
By Dutchmen or by Wind;

Our Tears we'll send a speedier way,

The Tide fhall bring 'em twice a Day.

With a Fa, &c.'

IV.

The King with Wonder and Surprize
Will fwear the Seas grow bold,

Because the Tides will higher rife,
Than e'er they us❜d of old:

But let Him know it is our Tears

Bring Floods of Grief to Whitehall Stairs.

With a Fa, &c.

V.

Shou'd Foggy Opdam chance to know

Our fad and dismal Story,

The Dutch wou'd fcorn fo weak a Foe,

And quit their Fort at Goree;

For what Refistance can they find

From Men who've left their Hearts behind

With a Fa, &c.

VI.

Let Wind and Weather do its worst,

Be you to us but kind;

Let Dutchmen vapour, Spaniards curfe,

No Sorrow we shall find

'Tis then no Matter how things go,

Or who's our Friend, or who's our Foe.

With a Fa, &c.

VII.

To pass our tedious Hours away,

We throw a merry Main;

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