<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=530159" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>On Queen Anne's Peace, Anno 1713</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mother of plenty, daughter of the skies,<br>Sweet Peace, the troubl'd world's desire, arise;<br>Around thy poet weave thy summer shades,<br>Within my fancy spread thy flow'ry meads,<br>Amongst thy train soft ease and pleasure bring,<br>And thus indulgent sooth me whilst I sing.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Great Anna claims the song; no brighter name<br>Adorns the list of never-dying fame,<br>No fairer soul was ever form'd above,<br>None e'er was more the grateful nation's love<br>Nor lov'd the nation more. I fly with speed<br>To sing such lines as Bolingbroke may read,<br>On war dispers'd, on faction trampled down,<br>On all the peaceful glories of the crown.<br>And if I fail in too confin'd a flight,<br>May the kind world upon my labours write;<br>'So fell the lines which strove for endless fame,<br>'Yet fell attempting on the noblest theme.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now twelve revolving years has Britain stood<br>With loss of wealth and vast expence of blood<br>Europa's Guardian; still her gallant arms<br>Secur'd Europa from impending harms.<br>Fair honour, full success, and just applause,<br>Pursu'd her marches, and adorn'd her cause;<br>Whilst Gaul, aspiring to erect a throne<br>O'er other empires, trembled for her own, <br>Bemoan'd her cities won, her armies slain,<br>And sunk the thought of universal reign.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When thus reduc'd the world's Invaders lie,<br>The fears which rack'd the nations, justly die:<br>Pow'r finds its balance, giddy motions cease<br>In both the scales, and each inclines to peace.<br>This fair occasion Providence prepares,<br>To answer pious Anna's hourly pray'rs,<br>Which still on warm Devotion's wings arose,<br>And reaching Heav'n obtain'd the world's repose.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Within the vast expansion of the sky,<br>Where Orbs of gold in fields of Azure lie,<br>A glorious palace shines, whose silver ray<br>Serenely flowing lights the milky way,<br>The road of angels. Here with speedy care<br>The summon'd Guardians of the world repair.<br>When Britain's Angel on the message sent<br>Speaks Anna's pray'rs and Heaven's supream intent,<br>That war's destructive arm shou'd humble Gaul,<br>Spain's parted realms to diff'rent monarchs fall,<br>The grand alliance crown'd with glory cease,<br>And joyful Europe find the sweets of peace.<br>He spoke: the smiling hopes of man's repose,<br>The joy that springs from certain hopes arose<br>Diffusive o'er the place; complacent airs<br>Sedately sweet were heard within the spheres;<br>And bowing all adore the sovereign mind,<br>And fly to execute the work design'd.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This done, the Guardian on the wing repairs<br>Where Anna sat revolving publick cares<br>With deep concern of thought. Unseen he stood<br>Presenting peaceful images of good<br>On Fancy's airy stage; returning Trade,<br>A sunk Exchequer fill'd, an Army paid,<br>The fields with men, the men with plenty bless'd,<br>The towns with riches, and the world with rest.<br>Such pleasing objects on her bosom play,<br>And give the dawn of glory's golden day,<br>When all her labours at their harvest shewn<br>Shall in her subjects joy compleat her own.<br>Then breaking silence, 'tis enough, she cries,<br>That war has rag'd to make the nations wise.<br>Heav'n prospers armies whilst they fight to save, <br>And thirst of further fame destroys the brave;<br>The vanquish'd Gauls are humbly pleas'd to live,<br>And but escap'd the chains they meant to give.<br>Now let the pow'rs be still'd and each possess'd<br>Of what secures the common safety best.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So spake the Queen, then fill'd with warmth divine<br>She call'd her Oxford to the grand design;<br>Her Oxford prudent in affairs of state,<br>Profoundly thoughtful, manifestly great<br>In ev'ry turn, whose steddy temper steers<br>Above the reach of gold or shock of fears;<br>Whom no blind chance, but merit understood<br>By frequent tryals, pow'r of doing good,<br>And will to execute, advanc'd on high,<br>O soul created to deserve the sky!<br>And make the nation, crown'd with glory, see<br>How much it rais'd itself by raising thee!<br>Now let the schemes which labour in thy breast<br>The long Alliance bless with lasting rest:<br>Weigh all pretences with impartial laws,<br>And fix the sep'rate Int'rests of the cause.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">These toils the graceful Bolingbroke attends,<br>A Genius fashion'd for the greatest ends,<br>Whose strong perception takes the swiftest flight,<br>And yet its swiftness ne'er obscures its sight:<br>When schemes are fix'd, and each assign'd a part,<br>None serves his country with a nobler heart,<br>Just thoughts of honour all his mind controul,<br>And Expedition wings his lively soul.<br>On such a Patriot to confer the Trust,<br>The Monarch knows it safe as well as just.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then next proceeding in her Agents choice<br>And ever pleas'd that worth obtain the voice,<br>She from the list of high-distinguish'd fames<br>With pious Bristow gallant Strafford names:<br>One form'd to stand a church's firm support,<br>The other fitted to adorn a court,<br>Both vers'd in business, both of fine address,<br>By which experience leads to great success:<br>And both to distant lands the Monarch sends,<br>And to their conduct Europe's peace commends.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now ships unmoor'd to waft her Agents o'er<br>Spread all their sail, and quit the flying shore. <br>The foreign Agents reach th' appointed place,<br>The Congress opens, and it will be peace.<br>Methinks the war like stormy winter flies,<br>When fairer months unveil the blueish skies,<br>A flow'ry world the sweetest season spreads,<br>And doves with branches flutter round their heads.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Half-peopled Gaul whom num'rous ills destroy<br>With wishful heart attends the promis'd joy.<br>For this prepares the Duke—ah sadly slain<br>'Tis grief to name him whom we mourn in vain:<br>No warmth of verse repairs the vital flame,<br>For verse can only grant a life in fame,<br>Yet cou'd my praise like spicy odours shed<br>In everlasting song embalm the dead,<br>To realms that weeping heard the loss I'd tell,<br>What courage, sense, and faith, with Brandon fell.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But Britain more than one for glory breeds,<br>And polish'd Talbot to the charge succeeds,<br>Whose far-projecting thoughts maturely clear<br>Like glasses draw their distant objects near.<br>Good Parts by gentle breeding much refin'd,<br>And stores of learning grace his ample mind,<br>A cautious virtue regulates his ways,<br>And Honour gilds them with a thousand rays.<br>To serve his nation at his Queen's command,<br>He parts commission'd for the Gallick land:<br>With pleasure Gaul beholds him on her shore<br>And learns to love a name she fear'd before.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Once more aloft there meet for new debates<br>The Guardian Angels of Europa's states:<br>And mutual concord shines in ev'ry face<br>And ev'ry bosom glows with hopes of peace,<br>While Britain's steps in one consent they praise,<br>Then gravely mourn their other realms delays,<br>Their doubtful claims through seas of blood pursu'd,<br>Their fears that Gallia fell but half subdu'd,<br>And all the reas'nings which attempt to shew<br>That war shou'd ravage in the world below.<br>'Ah fall'n estate of man! can rage delight!<br>'Wounds please the touch, or ruin charm the sight!<br>'Ambition make unlovely mischief fair!<br>'Or ever Pride be Providence's care! <br>'When stern Oppressors range the bloody field,<br>''Tis just to conquer and unsafe to yield:<br>'There save the nations; but no more pursue<br>'Nor in thy turn become Oppressor too.'<br>Our rebel angels for Ambition fell,<br>And war in Heav'n produc'd a Fiend in hell.<br>Thus with a soft concern for man's repose<br>The tender Guardians join to moan our woes,<br>Then awful rise, combin'd with all their might,<br>To find what Fury 'scap'd the den of night<br>The pleasing labours of their love withstands,<br>And spreads a wild distraction o'er the lands.<br>Their glitt'ring pinnions sound in yielding air,<br>And watchful Providence approves the care.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In Flandria's soil where Camps have mark'd the plain,<br>The Fiend, impetuous Discord, fix'd her reign;<br>A tent her royal seat. With full resort<br>Stern shapes of Horrour throng'd her buisy court,<br>Blind Mischief, Ambush close concealing Ire,<br>Loud Threat'nings, Ruin arm'd with sword and fire,<br>Assaulting Fierceness, Anger wanting breath,<br>High Red'ning Rage, and Various Forms of death,<br>Dire Imps of darkness, whom with Gore she feeds<br>When war beyond its point of Good proceeds.<br>In Gallick armour, call'd with alter'd name<br>Great love of Empire, to the field she came;<br>Now, still supporting Feud, she strives to hide<br>Beneath that name, and only change the side:<br>But as she whirl'd the rapid wheels around<br>Where mangl'd limbs in heaps pollute the ground,<br>(A sullen Joyless Sport,) with searching eye<br>The shining Chiefs regard her as they fly,<br>Then hov'ring, dart their beams of heav'nly light,<br>She starts, the Fury stands confess'd to sight,<br>And grieves to leave the soil, and yells aloud,<br>Her Yells are answer'd by the Sable Crowd,<br>And all on Bat-like wings (if Fame be true)<br>From Christian lands to Northern climates flew.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But rising murmours from Britannia's shore<br>With speed recal her watchful Guardian o'er.<br>He spreads his pinions, and approaching near,<br>These hints in scatter'd words assault his ear, <br>The People's Pow'r—The Grand Alliance cross'd<br>The Peace is sep'rate—Our Religion's lost.<br>Led by the Blatant voice along the skies,<br>He comes where Faction over cities flies;<br>A talking Fiend whom snaky locks disgrace,<br>And num'rous mouths deform her dusky face,<br>Whence Lies are utter'd, Whisper softly sounds,<br>Sly Doubts amaze, or Innuendo wounds.<br>Within her arms are heaps of Pamphlets seen,<br>And these blaspheme the Saviour, those the Queen;<br>Associate Vices: thus with tongue and hand<br>She shed her venom o'er the troubled land.<br>Now vex'd that Discord and the Baneful Train<br>That tends on Discord, fled the neighb'ring plain,<br>She rag'd to madness: when the Guardian came,<br>And downwards drove her with a sword of flame.<br>A mountain gaping to the Nether Hell<br>Receiv'd the Fury railing as she fell:<br>The mountain closing o'er the Fury lies,<br>And stops her passage where she means to rise,<br>And when she strives, or shifts her side for ease,<br>All Britain rocks amidst her circling seas.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now Peace returning after tedious woes<br>Restores the comforts of a calm repose:<br>Then bid the Warriors sheath their sanguin'd arms,<br>Bid Angry Trumpets cease to sound Alarms,<br>Guns leave to thunder in the tortur'd air,<br>Red streaming colours furl around the spear,<br>And each contending realm no longer jarr,<br>But pleas'd with rest unharness all the war.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She comes the Blessing comes, where'er she moves<br>New springing Beauty all the land improves:<br>More heaps of fragrant flow'rs the field adorn,<br>More sweet the Birds salute the Rosy Morn,<br>More lively Green refreshes all the leaves,<br>And in the Breeze the corn more thickly waves.<br>She comes the Blessing comes in easy state,<br>And Forms of Brightness all around her wait:<br>Here smiling Safety with her bosom bare<br>Securely walks, and chearful Plenty there;<br>Here wond'rous Sciences with Eagles sight,<br>There Liberal Arts which make the world polite,<br>And open Traffick joining hand in hand <br>With honest Industry, approach the land.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O welcome long desir'd and lately found!<br>Here fix thy seat upon the British ground,<br>Thy Shining Train around the Nation send,<br>While by degrees the loading Taxes end:<br>While Caution, calm yet still prepar'd for arms,<br>And Foreign Treaties, guard from foreign harms:<br>While equal Justice hearing ev'ry cause<br>Makes ev'ry Subject join to love the laws.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where Britain's Patriots in Council meet<br>Let publick safety rest at Anna's feet:<br>Let Oxford's schemes the Path to Plenty shew<br>And through the realm increasing Plenty go.<br>Let Arts and Sciences in glory rise,<br>And pleas'd the world has leisure to be wise,<br>Around their Oxford and their St. John stand,<br>Like Plants that flourish by the Master's hand:<br>And safe in hope the sons of Learning wait<br>Where Learning's Self has fix'd her fair retreat.<br>Let Traffick cherish'd by the Senate's care<br>On all the seas employ the wafting air:<br>And Industry with circulating wing<br>Through all the land the goods of Traffick bring.<br>The Blessings so dispos'd will long abide,<br>Since Anna reigns, and Harley's thoughts preside;<br>Great Ormond's arms the sword of Caution wield,<br>And hold Britannia's broad-protecting Shield;<br>Bright Bolingbroke and worthy Dartmouth treat<br>By fair dispatch with ev'ry foreign State;<br>And Harcourt's knowledge equitably shewn<br>Makes Justice call his firm Decrees her own.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thus all that Poets fanci'd Heav'n of old<br>May for the nation's present Emblem hold:<br>There Jove imperial sway'd; Minerva wise,<br>And Phœbus eloquent, adorn'd the skies;<br>On Arts Cyllenius fix'd his full delight,<br>Mars rein'd the War, and Themis judg'd the Right:<br>All mortals once beneficently great,<br>(As Fame reports) and rais'd in Heav'nly State;<br>Yet sharing labours, still they shun'd repose,<br>To shed the blessings down by which they rose.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Illustrious Queen, how Heav'n hath heard thy pray'rs,<br>What stores of Happiness attend thy Cares! <br>A Church in safety fix'd, a State in rest,<br>A Faithful Ministry, a People bless'd,<br>And Kings submissive at thy foot-stool thrown,<br>That others Rights restore, or beg their own.<br>Now rais'd with thankful mind, and rolling slow,<br>In grand Procession to the temple go,<br>By snow-white Horses drawn; while sounding Fame<br>Proclaims thy coming, Praise exalts thy name,<br>Fair Honour dress'd in robes adorns thy state,<br>And on thy Train the crowded Nations wait,<br>Who pressing view with what a temper'd grace<br>The looks of Majesty compose thy face,<br>And mingling Sweetness shines, or how thy dress<br>And how thy Pomp an inward Joy confess,<br>Then fill'd with Pleasures to thy glory due<br>With Shouts the Chariot moving on pursue.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As when the Phœnix from Arabia flown,<br>(If any Phœnix were like Anna known,)<br>His spice at Phœbus Shrine prepar'd to lay,<br>Where'er their Monarch cut his airy way<br>The gath'ring Birds around the Wonder flew,<br>And much admir'd his Shape and much his Hue,<br>The tuft of Gold that glow'd above his head,<br>His spacious Train with golden feathers spread,<br>His gilded Bosom speck'd with purple pride,<br>And both his Wings in glossy purple dy'd:<br>He still pursues his way, with wond'ring eyes<br>The Birds attend, and follow where he flies.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thrice happy Britons, if at last you know,<br>'Tis less to conquer than to want a foe;<br>That Triumphs still are made for War's decrease,<br>When Men by Conquest rise to views of Peace;<br>That over Toils for Peace in view we run,<br>Which gain'd, the World is pleas'd, and War is done.<br>Fam'd Blenheim's field, Ramillies noble seat,<br>Blaregni's desperate act of gallant heat,<br>Or wond'rous Winendale, are war pursu'd<br>By wounds and deaths through plains with blood embru'd;<br>But good Design to make the world be still,<br>With human Grace adorns the needful Ill;<br>This end obtain'd, we close the Scenes of rage<br>And gentler Glories deck the rising age.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Such gentler Glories, such reviving days, <br>The Nation's wishes, and the Statesman's praise,<br>Now pleas'd to shine in golden Order throng,<br>Demand our Annals and enrich our Song.<br>Then go where Albion's Cliffs approach the skies,<br>(The Fame of Albion so deserves to rise)<br>And deep engrav'd for Time 'till Time shall cease,<br>Upon the Stones their fair Inscription place.<br>Iberia rent, the Pow'r of Gallia broke,<br>Batavia rescu'd from the threat'ned Yoke,<br>The royal Austrian rais'd, his Realms restor'd,<br>Great Britain arm'd, triumphant and ador'd,<br>Its State enlarg'd, its Peace restor'd again,<br>Are Blessings all adorning Anna's Reign.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Thomas+Parnell">Thomas Parnell</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=530159" data-title="On Queen Anne's Peace, Anno 1713 de Thomas Parnell" data-description="Mother of plenty, daughter of the skies, Sweet Peace, the troubl'd world's desire, arise; Around thy poet weave thy summer shades, Within my fancy spread thy flow'ry meads, Amongst thy train soft ease and pleasure bring, And thus indulgent sooth m..."></div> </div> </div>

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