AN
HEROICAL SONG
On the Atchievements of his most Excellent Highnesse
JAMES DUKE
OF
YORK,
ADMIRAL of CASTILE.
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COme rare invention some sprightly strain,
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The mighty Cleavelands pregnant brain,
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To speak great York, St. James for Spain,
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Whom we will have again.
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The Glorious Lustre of whose whitest Rose,
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Stalkt upon prickles to our late Red Nose,
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Too fragrant for the Breech without a Hose,
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Return'd in spight of Foes.
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Forc'd by his barbarous Country to Exile,
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And leave a wretched, self confounding Isle,
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Now the high Admiral of great Castile,
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Fortunes first pleasing Smile.
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A Prince, whose Infant cryes were sounds of Warre,
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His Swadling Clothes were Harnesse, a la guarre
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Wer's first plain words, the Martial Starre
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At's getting helpt C.R.
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Sprung from the Loynes of Henery le grand,
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That Val'rous Captain, to whose Soveraign hand,
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France owes its present Greatnesse and Command,
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And we th' hope of our Land.
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His other Grandsire, that peace-making King,
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That did the two discordant Nations bring
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To unity, from whose most royal spring
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Such streams derive to him.
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But the immediate Parents of this Prince
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Were the great matchless couple, Innocence
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And Wisdomes Patterns, in whose just defence,
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Hony soit qui mal y'a pense.
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He Charls the good, She Mary good and great,
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Once the sole Orn'ments of this wanton State,
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She still survives his most unworthy fate,
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For him we mourn too late.
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Their sublimate perfections thus combin'd
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And all their several vertues here we find
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Centred in him, whom Nature had design'd
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But one degree behind.
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His Childish plays were Stratagems and Arts,
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Where he was alwayes taking Forts, our Hearts
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His Tennis Balls resembled Warlike Darts,
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Disguis'd, and so departs.
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Drest like a little Lady in a Gown,
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('Twas Pallas sure) he left this thankless Town
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To keep a head as a reserve to th' Crown,
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If it descended down.
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Then trac'd the world, and forrain places see,
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Examin'd Courts, and their State mystery
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A privy Counsellor in's minority.
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Now just past twenty three.
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Since which, the French and bloody Flandrian Field,
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Have seen him a Victorious Sword to wield,
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Death like the Gorgons Head plac'd in his Shield,
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Compell'd the Foe to yield.
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With what undaunted valour did he set
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Upon the Dunkirke Camp what ere he met
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He overthrew, nor did their force him let.
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But Fortune did forget.
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Forc'd to give ore th' attempt, and to retreat,
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How did he change not leave the battels seat,
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And the advancing Enemy still rebeat,
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And saved the defeat.
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The amazed Belgicks wondred to behold
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His glorious valour, and their hands uphold
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T'Heaven for safety, fearing him too bold,
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And wisht our Pistols into Gold.
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But as if the Earth Elements could not suffice
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His Macedon Spirit, the great Ocean cries
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Let me pay tribute to his fame, and rise,
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High with my richest prize.
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Now the great James is lanch't into the Main
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St. James, Patron and Admiral of Spain
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St. George for England we still will maintain.
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Till we see great Charls again.
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