Of the Invasion and Defeat of the Turks, in the Year 1683

The modern Nimrod, with a safe delightPursuing beasts, that save themselves by flight,Grown proud, and weary of his wonted game,Would Christians chase, and sacrifice to fame.

A prince, with eunuchs and the softer sexShut up so long, would warlike nations vex,Provoke the German, and, neglecting heaven,Forget the truce for which his oath was given.

His Grand Vizier, presuming to investThe chief imperial city of the west,With the first charge compell'd in haste to rise,His treasure, tents, and cannon, left a prize;The standard lost, and janizaries slain,Render the hopes he gave his master vain.The flying Turks, that bring the tidings home,Renew the memory of his father's doom;And his guard murmurs, that so often bringsDown from the throne their unsuccessful kings.

The trembling Sultan's forced to expiateHis own ill-conduct by another's fate.The Grand Vizier, a tyrant, though a slave,A fair example to his master gave;He Bassa's head, to save his own, made fly,And now, the Sultan to preserve, must die.

The fatal bowstring was not in his thought,When, breaking truce, he so unjustly fought;Made the world tremble with a numerous host,And of undoubted victory did boast.

Strangled he lies! yet seems to cry aloud,To warn the mighty, and instruct the proud,That of the great, neglecting to be just,Heaven in a moment makes a heap of dust.

The Turks so low, why should the Christians loseSuch an advantage of their barb'rous foes?Neglect their present ruin to complete,Before another Solyman they get?Too late they would with shame, repenting, dreadThat numerous herd, by such a lion led;He Rhodes and Buda from the Christians tore,Which timely union might again restore.

But, sparing Turks, as if with rage possess'd,The Christians perish, by themselves oppress'd;Cities and provinces so dearly won,That the victorious people are undone!

What angel shall descend to reconcileThe Christian states, and end their guilty toil?A prince more fit from heaven we cannot askThan Britain's king, for such a glorious task;His dreadful navy, and his lovely mind,Give him the fear and favour of mankind;His warrant does the Christian faith defend;On that relying, all their quarrels end.The peace is sign'd, and Britain does obtainWhat Rome had sought from her fierce sons in vain.

In battles won Fortune a part doth claim,And soldiers have their portion in the same;In this successful union we findOnly the triumph of a worthy mind.'Tis all accomplish'd by his royal word,Without unsheathing the destructive sword;

Without a tax upon his subjects laid,Their peace disturb'd, their plenty, or their trade.And what can they to such a prince deny,With whose desires the greatest kings comply?

The arts of peace are not to him unknown;This happy way he march'd into the throne;And we owe more to Heaven than to the sword,The wish'd return of so benign a lord.

Charles! by old Greece with a new freedom graced,Above her antique heroes shall be placed.What Theseus did, or Theban Hercules,Holds no compare with this victorious peace,Which on the Turks shall greater honour gain,Than all their giants and their monsters slain:Those are bold tales, in fabulous ages told;This glorious act the living do behold.

'Year 1683': see History.'Peace is signed': the Peace of Nimeguen.

Since James the Second graced the British throne,Truce, well observed, has been infring'd by none;Christians to him their present union owe,And late success against the common foe;While neighb'ring princes, both to urge their fate,Court his assistance, and suspend their hate.So angry bulls the combat do forbear,When from the wood a lion does appear.

This happy day peace to our island sent,As now he gives it to the Continent.A prince more fit for such a glorious task,Than England's king, from Heaven we cannot ask;He, great and good! proportion'd to the work,Their ill-drawn swords shall turn against the Turk.

Such kings, like stars with influence unconfined,Shine with aspect propitious to mankind;Favour the innocent, repress the bold,And, while they flourish, make an age of gold.

Bred in the camp, famed for his valour, young;At sea successful, vigorous, and strong;His fleet, his array, and his mighty mind,Esteem and rev'rence through the world do find.A prince with such advantages as these,Where he persuades not, may command a peace.Britain declaring for the juster side,The most ambitious will forget their pride;They that complain will their endeavours cease,Advised by him, inclined to present peace,Join to the Turk's destruction, and then bringAll their pretences to so just a king.

If the successful troublers of mankind,With laurel crown'd, so great applause do find,Shall the vex'd world less honour yield to thoseThat stop their progress, and their rage oppose?Next to that power which does the ocean awe,Is to set bounds, and give ambition law.

The British monarch shall the glory have,That famous Greece remains no longer slave;That source of art and cultivated thought!Which they to Rome, and Romans hither brought.

The banish'd Muses shall no longer mourn,But may with liberty to Greece return;Though slaves (like birds that sing not in a cage),They lost their genius, and poetic rage;Homers again, and Pindars, may be found,And his great actions with their numbers crown'd.

The Turk's vast empire does united stand;Christians, divided under the commandOf jarring princes, would be soon undone,Did not this hero make their int'rest one;Peace to embrace, ruin the common foe,Exalt the Cross, and lay the Crescent low.

Thus may the Gospel to the rising sunBe spread, and flourish where it first began;And this great day, (so justly honour'd here!)Known to the East, and celebrated there.

Hæc ego longævus cecini tibi, maxime regum!Ausus et ipse manu juvenum tentare laborem.--VIRG.