No. 620. Monday, November 15, 1714. Tickell.

Hic Vir, hic est, tibi quem promitti sápius audis.'

Having lately presented my Reader with a Copy of Verses full of the False Sublime, I shall here communicate to him an excellent Specimen of the True: Though it hath not yet been published, the judicious Reader will readily discern it to be the Work of a Master: And if he hath read that noble Poem on The Prospect of Peace, he will not be at a Loss to guess at the Author.


'When_ BRUNSWICK first appear'd, each honest Heart, Intent on Verse, disdain'd the Rules of Art; For him the Songsters, in unmeasur'd Odes, Debas'd Alcides, and dethron'd the Gods, In Golden Chains the Kings of India led, Or rent the Turban from the Sultan's Head. One, in old Fables, and the Pagan Strain, With Nymphs and Tritons, wafts him o'er the Main; Another draws fierce Lucifer in Arms, And fills th' Infernal Region with Alarms; A Third awakes some Druid, _to foretel Each future Triumph from his dreary Cell. Exploded Fancies! that in vain deceive, While the Mind nauseates what she can't believe. My [Muse th' expected [1]] Hero shall pursue From Clime to Clime, and keep him still in View; His shining March describe in faithful Lays, Content to paint him, nor presume to praise; Their Charms, if Charms they have, the Truth supplies, And from the Theme unlabour'd Beauties rise.

By longing Nations for the Throne design'd, And call'd to guard the Rights of Human-kind; With secret Grief his God-like Soul repines, And_ Britain's Crown with joyless Lustre shines, While Prayers and Tears his destin'd Progress stay, And Crowds of Mourners choak their Sovereign's Way. Not so he march'd, when Hostile Squadrons stood In Scenes of Death, and fir'd his generous Blood; When his hot Courser paw'd th' Hungarian _Plain, And adverse Legions stood the Shock in vain.

His Frontiers past, the_ Belgian _Bounds he views, And cross the level Fields his March pursues. Here pleas'd the Land of Freedom to survey, He greatly scorns the Thirst of boundless Sway. O'er the thin Soil, with silent Joy he spies Transplanted Woods, and borrow'd Verdure rise; Where every Meadow won with Toil and Blood, From haughty Tyrants, and the raging Flood, With Fruits and Flowers the careful Hind supplies, And cloathes the Marshes in a rich Disguise. Such Wealth for frugal Hands doth Heaven decree, And such thy Gifts, Celestial Liberty!

Through stately Towns, and many a fertile Plain, The Pomp advances to the neighbouring Main. Whole Nations crowd around with joyful Cries, And view the Heroe with insatiate Eyes. In_ Haga's Towers he waits, 'till Eastern Gales Propitious rise to swell the British Sails. Hither the Fame of England's Monarch brings The Vows and Friendships of the neighb'ring Kings; Mature in Wisdom, his extensive Mind Takes in the blended Int'rests of Mankind, The World's great Patriot. Calm thy anxious Breast, Secure in him, O Europe take thy Rest; Henceforth thy Kingdoms shall remain confined By Rocks or Streams, the Mounds which Heav'n design'd: The Alps their new-made Monarch shall restrain, Nor shall thy Hills, Pirene, _rise in vain

But see! to_ Britain's Isle the Squadrons stand, And leave the sinking Towers, and lessening Land, The Royal Bark bounds o'er the floating Plain, Breaks thro' the Billows, and divides the Main, O'er the vast Deep, Great Monarch, dart thine Eyes, A watry Prospect bounded by the Skies: Ten thousand Vessels, from ten thousand Shores, Bring Gums and Gold, and either India's _Stores: Behold the Tributes hastening to thy Throne, And see the wide Horizon all thy own.

Still is it thine; tho' now the cheerful Crew Hail_ Albion's Cliffs, just whitening to the View. Before the Wind with swelling Sails they ride, Till Thames _receives them in his opening Tide. The Monarch hears the thundering Peals around, From trembling Woods and ecchoing Hills rebound, Nor misses yet, amid the deafening Train, The Roarings of the hoarse-resounding Main.

As in the Flood he sails, from either Side He views his Kingdom in its rural Pride; A various Scene the wide-spread Landskip yields, O'er rich Enclosures and luxuriant Fields: A lowing Herd each fertile Pasture fills, And distant Flocks stray o'er a thousand Hills. Fair_ Greenwich _hid in Woods, with new Delight, (Shade above Shade) now rises to the Sight: His Woods ordain'd to visit every Shore, And guard the Island which they graced before.

The Sun now rowling down the Western Way, A Blaze of Fires renews the fading Day; Unnumbered Barks the Regal Barge infold, Brightening the Twilight with its beamy Gold; Less thick the finny Shoals, a countless Fry, Before the Whale or kingly Dolphin fly. In one vast Shout he seeks the crowded Strand, And in a Peal of Thunder gains the Land.

Welcome, great Stranger, to our longing Eyes, Oh! King desir'd, adopted_ Albion _cries. For thee the East breath'd out a prosperous Breeze, Bright were the Suns, and gently swell'd the Seas. Thy Presence did each doubtful Heart compose, And Factions wonder'd that they once were Foes; That joyful Day they lost each Hostile Name, The same their Aspect, and their Voice the same.

So two fair Twins, whose Features were design'd At one soft Moment in the Mother's Mind, Show each the other with reflected Grace, And the same Beauties bloom in either Face; The puzzled Strangers which is which enquire, Delusion grateful to the smiling Sire.

From that fair Hill, where hoary Sages boast To name the Stars, and count the heavenly Host, By the next Dawn doth great_ Augusta rise, Proud Town! the noblest Scene beneath the Skies. O'er Thames her thousand Spires their Lustre shed, And a vast Navy hides his ample Bed, A floating Forest. From the distant Strand A Line of Golden Carrs strikes o'er the Land: Britannia's _Peers in Pomp and rich Array, Before their King, triumphant, lead the Way. Far as the Eye can reach, the gawdy Train, A bright Procession, shines along the Plain.

So haply through the Heav'n's wide pathless Ways A Comet draws a long-extended Blaze; From East to West [burns through [2]] th' ethereal Frame, And half Heav'n's Convex glitters with the Flame.

Now to the Regal Towers securely brought, He plans_ Britannia's Glories in his Thought; Resumes the delegated Pow'r he gave, Rewards the Faithful and restores the Brave. Whom shall the Muse from out the shining Throng Select to heighten and adorn her Song? Thee, Halifax. To thy capacious Mind, O Man approved, is Britain's Wealth consigned. Her Coin (while Nassau _fought) debas'd and rude, By Thee in Beauty and in Truth renew'd, An Arduous Work! again thy Charge we see, And thy own Care once more returns to Thee. O! form'd in every Scene to awe and please, Mix Wit with Pomp, and Dignity with Ease: Tho' call'd to shine aloft, thou wilt not scorn To smile on Arts thy self did once adorn: For this thy Name succeeding Time shall praise, And envy less thy Garter, than thy Bays.

The Muse, if fir'd with thy enlivening Beams, Perhaps shall aim at more exalted Themes, Record our Monarch in a nobler Strain, And sing the opening Wonders of his Reign; Bright_ CAROLINA's heavenly Beauties trace, Her valiant CONSORT, and his blooming Race. A Train of Kings their fruitful Love supplies, A glorious Scene to Albion's ravish'd Eyes; Who sees by BRUNSWICK'_s Hand her Sceptre sway'd, And through his Line from Age to Age convey'd.'

[Footnote 1: [artless Muse the]]

[Footnote 2: he burns].

Translation of motto:
VIRG. AEn. vi. 791.
'Behold the promised chief!'