An ENCOMIUM, OR Congratulatory POEM Occasionally Written, upon the Happy Successes of Capt. Thomas Harman, Commander Of his MAJESTIES Friggate, the TIGER. With an Exact Relation of His late Signal Victory Off Cadis. I shall, no Heathen Deity Implore: Be those Idollaters who need it more. The Subject will my Pen with Wit Infuse; And of a Barren, ---- make a fruitfull Muse.
|
BRAVE SIR John Harman, his great Name will be,
|
A sacred Relique to Posterity:
|
Which as a Favor each large Soul shall bind
|
Upon his Arm, and so fresh Courage find.
|
His Actions with thy Actions, shine so clear,
|
Though but one Living, plainly both appear.
|
Go on bold Youth inspird with his great Soul,
|
Who coud his Passions, as his Men, Controul;
|
Thou wantest nothing to attain that height
|
Which he injoyd ---- But to be made a ----- Knight.
|
Shoud we look back, and trace him from his Youth,
|
Our highest Praises woud fall short of Truth.
|
His early Rays like a red Sun did break,
|
Man-hood shone through him, ere he well coud speak.
|
If in his East he promised so much,
|
Why shoud we wonder that his Acts are such.
|
The rest --- and this his Southern! ---- scarce make good
|
His promises, though with expence of Blood.
|
He for his King and Country Nobly Fought,
|
And gaind that Honor which the Other sought.
|
But stay quick Muse, You in a little Room
|
Woud crowd up all ---- You quite forget the Boom.*
|
After so many Men in Boats destroyd,
|
As Death with conquering, seemd almost cloyd:
|
When Deaths more swift then Lightning flew ith Air,
|
And turnd all hopes of Conquest, to dispair!
|
When the Proud Turks defied us from their Wall,
|
Then Honor did, to Noble Harman, call:
|
Come Gallant Spark of Valour, now come forth,
|
And with thy Native Courage, shew thy Worth;
|
Give me thy Hand --- when this great work is done,
|
Ile bring thee off --- as now I lead thee on.
|
So, bravely Fought, fear not the thundring Showers,
|
Know I Protect thy Life from all their Powers.
|
Tis done! --- The Turks are shaken with the English -- shout
|
An universal Joy flyes round about.
|
Which gave a Shock to the poor trembling Town,
|
As if the Fabrick had been tumbling down.
|
*At Boagee
|
where the
|
seven Capital
|
Ships of Ar-
|
gier were
|
destroyd.
|
Now, now begins the dreadful Scene of Fate,
|
Tryumphing Death, set open wide Hell-gate;
|
And drove the Tawny-souls by hundreds in
|
A just Reward for all their horrid Sin.
|
Their best of Ships in sultry Flames appear,
|
O, coud we make such Bon-fires all the year?
|
How many Christian Captives, may thank Thee;
|
Thou, thou the only Instrumental Cause
|
Of giving Captives: Freedom; Pagans, Laws.
|
When he was Convoy to a Mighty Fleet,
|
And many Capers at one time did meet.
|
His discreet Conduct to secure his own,
|
Appeard, when of so many, Lost not one.
|
When through all Dangers he had them Convayd,
|
(And not as some, their Countrymen Betrayd.)
|
A greater Action calls him now away,
|
To give out Precepts how they shoud Obey.
|
He a new Method took, and taught em how
|
They must, and theirs; to Brittains Monarch bow.
|
And though theyr always exercisd in War,
|
He made them know we can Surpass um far?
|
Witness, those Ships He took, and forcd a Shoar,
|
And thirty Slaves by him condemnd to th Oar.
|
In Barbary, what part so ere he came,
|
They fright their Children with his very Name.
|
From thence my Muse, shall Tack about, and stand
|
For Caiz, the Magazine of every Land.
|
Vice-Admiral de Wit, Cruceign about,
|
But all in Vain, could find no Purchase out;
|
In three days space, for Cai'z agen did Steer,
|
But after him the Tiger came too near,
|
For suddenly a strange Report was spread,
|
That he for Safety into Harbor fled.
|
Bold Evertson carreening in the Bay,
|
Hearing in what a Case their Honor lay.
|
Advisd de Wit immediately to send
|
A Challenge, and so the Difference end:
|
Hoping to gain Opinion from the Town,
|
And by this Act, their former Actions Crown.
|
Five Salli men
|
of War burnt
|
and taken with
|
thirty Slaves.
|
De Wit resolvd the next days Tryal, shoud
|
Decide the Quarrel, though through streams of Blood.
|
Harman obleidged now by Honors Laws,
|
Coud do no less then Fight his Countrys cause;
|
And now both sides in hast preparing be,
|
Although the Dutch not questiond, Victory,
|
Depending on his numbers, swoln with Pride,
|
Since Evertson has him so well supplyd,
|
With sevenscore Men, above his complement,
|
Whose courages all Resolutely bent,
|
And if in Looks, some certainty might be,
|
Their manly-faces promisd Victory.
|
Coud Strength have carried it, th Ingagement had
|
Gone, on the Weaker-side but very bad.
|
From such an Act, what Honor coud he gain,
|
Though he had Sunk Her, and the Captain Slain:
|
Unequal Numbers make a Conquest, none,
|
For whats a Conquest when the Glorys gone.
|
But now for Both, the Time to Action calls,
|
While Multitudes are placed on the Walls,
|
And on the Sandy Beach appear such Crowds,
|
Their very shadows seem to darken Clouds!
|
All gazing at the Champions going out,
|
And of a suddain gave a lofty Shout;
|
Although they had but little Wind before,
|
Their Acclamations blow um from the Shoar.
|
A pleasant Gale: and now two Leagues at Sea:
|
(Both in their swelling Pride and Gallantry.)
|
Both made a stand: when from the Shoar they cryd;
|
Some for the English; most oth Flemmings side.
|
The Weather-gage, the Tiger having got,
|
And both so near, within a Pistolls shot,
|
Did ring such peals of Thunder in his ear,
|
As made him Curse he ever came so near,
|
This first Broad-side, his Men and Ship so Toar:
|
She like a Rack, They, weltring in their Gore.
|
Those bravely Fought, which did a Live remain,
|
As if they had the spirits of the Slain
|
Fighting in them the Battail ore agen,
|
For more like Devils they appeard, then Men:
|
Inragd, as Furies, in Confusion Fought;
|
Grown Desprate, rather Death, then Conquest, sought.
|
But He, (as other good Commanders shoud)
|
Esteemd One savd, more then a stream of Blood
|
Drawn from the Foe: Such was his Noble care,
|
Though he Destroyd ---- Yet he had rather spare.
|
But to be short; he laid her soon Aboard
|
Upon the Bough; and then the Tiger Roard:
|
The fierceness of her Nature, now is shown:
|
They, Enter shouting: But the other groan;
|
Which from the shoar the sound Reverberates;
|
And so they Ecco back their adverse Fates.
|
Here give Me Leave, a little to Digress,
|
And briefly show our Nations Happiness:
|
In having such Commanders in the Fleet,
|
Whose equal Judgements, with their Valours meet.
|
At last Shes forcd to yield unto his Power:
|
(The miserable Effects of one short Hour!)
|
For in less time, the Battails wone and lost,
|
Wh[i]ch so much Honor gaind, with little Cost;
|
Re[?]al that word; the Cost was very great,
|
Er[e] we injoyd the Victory Compleat.
|
But if he well recovers of the Wound;
|
Act[i]ve, with passive Valour, shall be Crownd,
|
And so erect his Fame, on such a Base,
|
As [n]either Time, nor Envy, shall deface.
|
An[d] if one Unexperiencd can Devine,
|
His Glories ner shall Set, but always Shine
|
In Honors Orb, there fixt, our Friends to chear:
|
Bu[t] Meteor-like; possess our Foes with fear.
|
Su[c]h powerfull Influence upon thy Foes,
|
Se[c]ures thy Friends, a joyful, sweet, Repose.
|
|
|
|
|
|