No More Learning

Long since were fled on many a feigned pretence.

Daniel had there adventured, man of might ;
Sweet Painter, draw his picture while I write.
Paint him of pei'son tall, and big of bone.
Large limbs like ox, not to be killed but shown.
Scarce can burned ivory feign a hair so black.
Or face so red thine ochre and thy lac ;
Mix a vain terror in his martial Un^k,
And all those lines by which mcMi are mistook.
But when by shame constraiiutl to go on board,
He heard how the wild cannon iK^uier roared.
And saw himself confined lik'' -hrep in pen,
Daniel then thought he was in lion's den.



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234 THE POKM8

But when the fire-ships terrible he saw,
Pregnaot with sulphur, nearer to him draw.
Captain, Lieutenant, Ensign, all make haste.
Ere in the fiery furnace they be cast ;
Three children tall, unsinged, away they row.
Like Shadrach, Meshech, and Abednego.
Each doleful day still with fresh loss returns.
The Loyal London now a third time bums ;
And the true Royal Oak, and Royal James,
Allied in fate, increase with theirs her flames.
Of all our navy none should now survive.
But that the ships themselves were taught to

dive,
And the kind river in its creek them hides,
Freighting their pierced keels with oozy tides ;
Up to the bridge contagious terror struck.
The Tower itself with the near danger shook ;
And were not Ruyter's maw with ravage cloyed,
Even London*s aslies had been then destroyed.
OtRcious fear, however to prevent
Our loss, does so much more our loss augment.
The Dutch had robbed those jewels of the crown ;
Our merchant-men, lest they should burn, we

drown :
So when the fire did not enough devour,
The houses were demolished near the Tower.
'I'liose ships that yearly from their teeming hole
Unloaded here the birth of either pole.
Fir from tlie north, and silver from the west,
From the south perfumes, spices IVoin the 'jiist.



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OP MAliVELL. 235

From Gambo gold, and from the Ganges gems,
Take a short voyage underneatli the Thames,
Once a deep river, now with timber floored,
And shrunk, less navigable, to a ford.

Now nothing more at Chatham 's left to burn,
The Holland squadron leisurely return ;
And spite of Rupert's and of Albemarle's,
To Ruyter's triumph led the captive Cliarles.
The pleasing sight he often does prolong,
Her mast erect, tough cordage, timber strong.
Her moving shape, all these he doth survey,
And all admires, but most his easy prey.
The seamen search her all within, without ;
Viewing her strength, they yet their conquest

doubt ;
Then with rude shouts, secure, the air they vex:,
With gamesome joy insulting on her decks.
Such the feared Hebrew captive, blinded, shorn,
Was led about in sport the public scorn.

Black day accursed! on thee let no man
hail
Out of the port, or dare to hoist a sail.
Or row a boat in thy unlucky hour !