GReat PRINCE! to whose unwearied Pains and Care
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England Eternal Monuments must rear
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Of Gratitude, as having found in YOU
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At once her Nestor and Achilles too:
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Whose Grave Advice does first our Factions close,
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And then your Matchless Arm subdues our Foes.
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Permit an Humble Muse your Fame to greet,
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And with your Canvase spread a Votive Sheet,
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Predicting Victory: Assurd no less,
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RUPERT Commanding warranteth success.
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RUPERT, that Glorious Name, wherein we have
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Whatevers Prudent, Valiant, Great, or Brave;
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In whom Nature all past Heros does summe,
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And Copies sets to those that are to come.
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With such a Chief and such a Navy blest,
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As never yet the Oceans Surface prest,
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For strength, for courage, and for number too,
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What ist we may not fairly hope to do?
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Especially upon a Cause so Just,
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As might to Providence and Cock-boats trust:
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Though thanks to Heaven a Moving Wood, we see,
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Covers the bosom of our Narrow Sea;
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A Floating Island; that seems to surpass
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Denmark and Dantzick for full choice of Masts:
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As if that Womb of Ships (Forest of Dean)
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Into the Ocean now had shifted Scene.
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Phansie no more Fond Hogens to surprise
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Us with Fair Words and Foul Advantages;
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Nor hope a doubtful Treaties sly pretence
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Shall gull us to omit needful Defence.
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Wel parly Armd, and if you Deaf remain
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To Reason still, and our Just Terms disdain,
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Wel Bore your Ears with Thunder, till you cease
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Your haughty Pride, and humbly beg for Peace.
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