A poem humbly presented to His Most Excellent Majesty King William the Third upon his most miraculuous and happy preservation from that barbarous Jacobitish conspiracy to assassinate His Royal Person, February anno 1695 / by R.B. Bovet, Richard, b. ca. 1641. 1696 Approx. 15 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 7 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2007-01 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A28909 Wing B3865 ESTC R26546 09498396 ocm 09498396 43307 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A28909) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 43307) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 1325:7) A poem humbly presented to His Most Excellent Majesty King William the Third upon his most miraculuous and happy preservation from that barbarous Jacobitish conspiracy to assassinate His Royal Person, February anno 1695 / by R.B. Bovet, Richard, b. ca. 1641. 12 p. Printed by J. Dover for Richard Baldwin, London : 1696. Running title: A poem upon the King's preservation. Reproduction of original in the Harvard University Library. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. Gap elements of known extent have been transformed into placeholder characters or elements to simplify the filling in of gaps by user contributors. 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Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements). Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site . eng William -- III, -- King of England, 1650-1702 -- Poetry. Lancashire Plot, 1689-1694 -- Poetry. 2006-05 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2006-05 Apex CoVantage Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2006-06 Andrew Kuster Sampled and proofread 2006-06 Andrew Kuster Text and markup reviewed and edited 2006-09 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion A POEM Humbly presented to His most Excellent MAJESTY King. VVilliam the Third , Upon His most Miraculous and Happy Preservation from that Barbarous Jacobitish Conspirary To Assassinate His Royal Person , February Anno 1695. By R. B. — Nec Ignes Nec potuit ferrum ! LONDON ; Printed by J. Dover , for Richard Baldwin near the Oxford-Arms in Warwick-lane , 1696. A POEM upon His Majesty's Miraculous and Happy Preservation from JACOBITE and FRENCH Assassines . WHilst Treach'rous France in his Versail secures His Guilty Mould'ring Carcass , and immures In lewd Maintinion's Arms his Conscious Soul , Which in streams of Blood makes Gasping Europe rowl , And Massacres whole Countries by Surprize , Boasting his breach of Faith for Victories : Whilst he t'Inglorious Poisonings resorts , And in Secret Murthers makes his great Efforts ; Sordid Attempts ! despis'd by Men of Arms , Honour their Blood for Just Atcheiv'ments warms ▪ These Court the Glorious Field , and seek Renown Where toyling Hero's strive for Vict'ries Crown : But Mean , and Abject Souls , such as the base Case-hard'ned Priests , and Cain's pale Treach'rous Race Of Hated Vagabonds , and Bigotted Fools , Bog-Trotting Ruffians , Mercenary Tools , ( Fit Instruments t' advance the vast Design In which great Lewis , and just James conjoin ) Barb'rous Attempts these naturally Chuse , Black as their Cause , such are the Means they use . The Brave are Heaven's Care , this Caesar taught When his frighted Pilot in a Tempest wrought , Proud swelling Surges crusht the Trembling Keel , And made the Captain's blust'ring Courage reel , Mountains of Water combate on the Main , And into foaming Billows dash again ; The Scaly Legion to the Bottom creep T' avoid the Fury of the angry Deep ; The Watry Regions glows with Sparks of Fire , And all the Glories of the Day retire , Dark pitchy Clouds obscure the spangled Sky , And thunder down their Terrors from on High : The Crazy Vessel like a Cork was tost , And th' half-dead Seamen yielded all was lost . Th' Vndaunted Hero checques their gloomy Fear , And buoys their Spirits sinking in Dispair : Chear up my Mates ! the Gods of Us take Care , Caesar , and th' Empires Fortune are lodg'd here : Not all the Raging Floods can Swallow's up ; I see a Calm from yonder Mountain's Top : A bright Serenity shines in my Mind , And shews the Empires Work is yet behind ; This shatter'd Vessel , tho' by Tempests Tore , Shall Caesar whaft to the Appointed Shore , Nor will his better Stars see him Forlorn Who was for Glory , and an Empire Born. How oft hath England's greater Caesar found His Guardian Angel shield his Temples round ? Your Sacred Head was cover'd from on High When Storms of Ball obscur'd the Ecchoing Sky ; When Bombs , whose Murth'ring Thunders rend the Air , Like the Last Tempest which the Globe shall Tear , Have set great Camps , and Cities all on Fire As if the World should in that Blaze expire ; Your Heav'n-skreen'd Person hath unshaken stood In midst of Hurricanes of Fire and Blood. Great Cannon-Ball , disarm'd of all their Force , Slide o'er Your Shoulders , baffled in their Course ! Some touch Your Royal Garments , and pass by , 's if Aw'd by Laws of Supreme Destiny . Not all the Battles Rome's great Gen'rals fought , Not all the Trophies which to Rome they brought , With Your Immortal Triumphs e'er can shine , If we regard Your Glories at the Boyn ; Or Namur's Walls , which like to Vulcan's Forge , Or Etna's Top , Thunder , and Fire disgorge . This Castle France Impregnable did boast , Here he laid out his utmost Care , and Cost , In this he vaunted as of Babel's Tower , 't was the Result of all his Might , and Power : This Your Great Soul with Indignation fill'd , This Mighty Fortress to Your Sword must yield ! Namur's the Word , and 't is Resolv'd upon France shan't keep Towns , and England's King look on ! What Conduct here , what Bravery was shown , What Rage , what Arts , in former Fights unknown ? This Draggoon Buffleur with Amazement saw , And fill'd Chantillie's shaken Soul with Awe ; They saw the English against Rocks aspire , Combat with Cannon , Grapple Storms of Fire ! Courage like this our Stout Fore-Fathers shew'd , They Came , they Saw , like Caesar , and Subdu'd . Astonisht Villeroy the Seige Beheld , And th' English reap the Honour of the Field , His Hundred Thousand French durst not appear , But stood , like Statues , Petrified with Fear . Whilst , Royal SIR , with Honour You Chastise , Your Foes resort to Feeble Treacheries , In Camp they Basely seek Your Precious Life By Poyson , or a Consecrated Knife ; In Your Own Court their Treasons they pursue ; What is 't their Guilty Fears won't hurry 'em to ? A Set of Spurious Wretches , Vile , and Base , Spawn'd , like their Councils , of th' Infernal Race , The Scum , Reproach , and Pest o' th' Human Line , As the fall'n Angels are of that Divine ; Alike in Rancour , and alike in Spight , Both fight against Almighty Power , and Light : These are the Crew Chose by Most Christian France , His Long-Projected Empire to Advance ; Now that his Priest-blest Arms , and Councils fail , He 'll try if Hell-spawn'd Tories can't prevail . SIR , 't is Your Noble Vertue makes them dread , And raise their baffled Plots against Your Head ; Had You at first but Crusht the Viprous Brood , They had not Now been Hunting for Your Blood ! But Your Mild Reign , Indulgent to a Fault , Cherisht those Serpents which Your Life Assault ; Those Home bred Foes , more dangerous by far Than all the Open Violence of War : Not Impious Louis with his Fleet , and Host , Of which ( till the Late Reigns ) he ne'er could Boast , Could stop the Justice of Your Conq'ring Sword , But for the Aids Our Traytors Hence afford . Now , Sir , Your Thunder let the Miscreants share , Whom Heav'n discovers , let not Favour spare : Root the Malignant Race that dare disown Your Peoples Right to Give a Forfeit Crown , Who from false Toppicks , false Conclusions draw , And give the Prince a Pow'r to Null the Law ; These , to foment Our Woes , Two Titles bring ▪ Make One de facto , One de jure King ; Such Politiciaus would a Claim Reserve , The French Designs to Complement , and serve ▪ To pamper their Insatiate Avarice , They'd Europe sell , and England sacrifice . When such as these are from Preferments Purg'd , And by Your Justice for their Treasons Scourg'd , Intrigu'ing France shall gain no more from hence , Supplies of Treasure , and Intelligence ; But this will mortify the Monsieur more Than five Campaigns have ever done before ; The Gallic Power would but weak appear , If not supported by his Engins Here. Great Sir , by Wonders Rais'd , England to save From b'ing a Spiritual , and a Temp'ral Slave , Whom the Eternal Goodness hath Preserv'd , And for some Greater Work to Come Reserv'd ; On whom all Europe fix their Suppliant Eyes To Save 'em from French Chains , and Cruelties ; See with what Zeal Your People join in One To Guard Your Person , and Secure Your Throne ▪ Th' Associating Senate lead the Van , Your Lords and Commons as one Single Man ; Your Loyal City , Opulent , and Great , 'bove all the Glorious Sun e'er shin'd on yet ; Taking Copy from Original so fair , Express their Love , their Duty , and their Care. No sooner was the Welcome Tydings hurl'd Of their Darling's Safety thro' Your English World , But in Rural Triumphs they their Joy proclaim ; And vow to Die for Brave King WILLIAM . In Chearful Throngs each County crowds to Sign , And with their Representatives Conjoin : This Bond of Vnion is approv'd by All , And Swells from Corporate to National . Nor will the General Pact determine here , But Foreign Princes in the League appear ; The Potentates of Europe , One and All , States , and Crown'd Heads , Allies , and Neuteral : None can be Safe , all Government 's destroy'd , When Butchers are for Holy Ends Imploy'd . How Execrable must this make the Names Of the Twin-Cut-Throats Lou ' le Grand , and James ? Whilst these fresh Treasons wake your Friends at Land Your floating Tow'rs , their Force at Sea withstand ; This to Your Royal Vigilance We owe , Soft they Approach'd , but found no Sleepy Foe : Soon when your Startling Squadron came in view , The Noisy French Armada straight withdrew , Th' affrighted Flota to the Sands do Creep , And durst not meet Your Adm'ral on the Deep ▪ Their Pannick Army they Debarque again , And Heave their Cannon in the watry Main ; And , tho' in Haste their Hero to Restore , They durst not venture on Your English Shoar . Your Royal Flagg made Ships , and Troops to Run , They mind the Setting of their Rising Sun. Great RVSSEL stops them in their Hot Carier , Russel , whose Name the French with Trembling hear . That Illustrious Captain , Monsieur durst not meet , They felt his Courage , when He burnt their Fleet. Thus what false France design'd for England's Woe , Kind Prov'dence turns to France's Overthrow , And , well Improv'd , will fix Your Interest more On Your People's Hearts than ever heretofore . But I must Crave your Majesty's Excuse For an Vnpollisht , Melancholly Muse , Who , Vninstructed in the Arts of Verse , Presumes Your Royal Story to Rehearse , This might become fam'd Mouse , or Dorset's Lyre , Whose Eloquence can charm , and Sence inspire : But , if Hearty Zeal may for the rest Atone , May Heav'n-sav'd William long wear England's Crown ▪ FINIS .