ACCESSION OF JAMES II.
From “Read’s Weekly Journal, or British Gazetteer.” Saturday, May 15th, 1731. This was a Jacobite Journal, and this song was reproduced at the time, from an earlier period. The allusions are evidently to the death of Charles II. and the succession of James II.
What means, honest shepherd, this cloud on thy brow?
Say, where is thy mirth and thy melody now?
Thy pipe thrown aside, and thy looks full of thought,
As silent and sad as a bird newly caught.
Has any misfortune befallen thy flocks,
Some lamb been betray’d by the craft of the fox;
Or murrain, more fatal, just seized on thy herd;
Or has thy dear Phyllis let slip a cross word?
The season indeed may to musing incline,
Now that grey-bearded Winter makes Autumn resign;
The hills all around us their russet put on,
And the skies seem in mourning for loss of the sun.
The winds make the tree, where thou sitt’st, shake its head;
Yet tho’ with dry leaves mother earth’s lap is spread,
Her bosom, to cheer it, is verdant with wheat,
And the woods can supply us with pastime and meat.
Oh! no, says the shepherd, I mourn none of these,
Content with such changes as Heaven shall please;
Tho’ now we have got the wrong side of the year,
’Twill turn up again, and fresh beauties appear:
But the loss that I grieve for no time can restore;
Our master that lov’d us so well is no more;
That oak which we hop’d wou’d long shelter us all,
Is fallen; then well may we shake at its fall.
Where find we a pastor so kind and so good,
So careful to feed us with wholesomest food,
To watch for our safety, and drive far away
The sly prouling fox that would make us his prey?
Oh! may his remembrance for ever remain
To shame those hard shepherds who, mindful of gain,
Only look at their sheep with an eye to the fleece,
And watch ’em but so as the fox watch’d the geese.
Whom now shall I choose for the theme of my song?
Or must my poor pipe on the willow be hung?
No more to commend that good nature and sense,
Which always cou’d please, but ne’er once gave offence.
What honour directed he firmly pursu’d,
Yet would not his judgment on others intrude;
Still ready to help with his service and vote,
But ne’er to thrust oar in another man’s boat.
No more, honest shepherd, these sorrows resound,
The virtues thou praisest, so hard to be found,
Are yet not all fled, for the swain who succeeds
To his fields and his herds is true heir to his deeds;
His pattern he’ll follow, his gentleness use,
Take care of the shepherds and cherish the muse:
Then cease for the dead thy impertinent care,
Rejoice, he survives in his brother and heir.
ON THE MOST HIGH AND MIGHTY MONARCH
KING JAMES,
ON HIS EXALTATION ON THE THRONE OF ENGLAND.
Being an excellent new song. From a “Collection of One Hundred and Eighty Loyal Songs, written since 1678.”
To the tune of “Hark! the Thundering Cannons roar.”
Hark! the bells and steeples ring!
A health to James our royal King;
Heaven approves the offering,
Resounding in chorus;
Let our sacrifice aspire,
Richest gems perfume the fire,
Angels and the sacred quire
Have led the way before us.
Thro’ loud storms and tempests driven,
This wrong’d prince to us was given,
The mighty James, preserved by Heaven
To be a future blessing;
The anointed instrument,
Good great Charles to represent,
And fill our souls with that content
Which we are now possessing.
Justice, plenty, wealth, and peace,
With the fruitful land’s increase,
All the treasures of the seas,
With him to us are given;
As the brother, just and good,
From whose royal father’s blood
Clemency runs like a flood,
A legacy from Heaven.
Summon’d young to fierce alarms,
Born a man in midst of arms,
His good angels kept from harms—
The people’s joy and wonder;
Early laurels crown’d his brow,
And the crowd did praise allow,
Whilst against the Belgick foe
Great Jove implored his thunder.
Like him none e’er fill’d the throne,
Never courage yet was known
With so much conduct met in one,
To claim our due devotion;
Who made the Belgick lion roar,
Drove ’em back to their own shore,
To humble and encroach no more
Upon the British ocean.
When poor Holland first grew proud,
Saucy, insolent, and loud,
Great James subdued the boisterous crowd,
The foaming ocean stemming;
His country’s glory and its good
He valued dearer than his blood,
And rid sole sovereign o’er his flood,
In spight of French or Fleming.
When he the foe had overcome,
Brought them peace and conquest home,
Exiled in foreign parts to roam,
Ungrateful rebels vote him;
But spite of all their insolence,
Inspired with god-like patience,
The rightful heir, kind Providence
Did to a throne promote him.
May justice at his elbow wait
To defend the Church and State,
The subject and this monarch’s date
May no storm e’er dissever:
May he long adorn this place
With his royal brother’s grace,
His mercy and his tenderness,
To rule this land for ever.