The Royal Victory

Let England, and Ireland, and Scotland rejoyce,
And render thanksgiving with heart and with voice.
That surly fanatick that now will not sing,
Is false to the kingdom, and foe to the King;
For he that will grutch,
Our fortune is such,
Doth deal for the devil, as well as the Dutch;
For why should my nature or conscience repine,
At taking of his life, that fain would have mine.

So high a victory we could not command,
Had it not been gain'd by an Almighty hand,
The great Lord of Battels did perfect this work,
For God and the King, and the good Duke of York;
Whose courage was such,
Against the Low-Dutch,
That vapour'd and swagger'd, like Lords in a hutch ;
But, let the bold Hollander burn, sink, or swim,
They have honour enough to be beaten by him.

Fire, aire, earth, and water, it seems were imploy'd,
To strive for the conquest which we have injoy'd,
No honour, or profit, or safety can spring,
To those that do fight against God and the King;
The battel was hot,
And bloudily fought,
The fire was like rain, and like hail was the shot,
For in this ingagement ten thousand did bleed
Of Flemmings, who now are the Low-Dutch indeed.

In this cruel conflict stout Opdam was slain,
By the great Duke of York, and lies sunk in the main,
'Twas from the Duke's frigat that he had his doome,
And by the Duke's valour he was overcome;
It was his good fate,
To fall at that rate,
Who sink under Princes, are buried in state.
Since valour and courage in one grave must lye,
It is a great honour by great hands to dye.

That gallant bold fellow, the son of Van Trump,
Whose brains were beat out by the head of the Rump,
Ingaging with Holmes, a brave captain of ours,
Retreated to Neptune's salt, waterie bowers :
His fate was grown grim,
He no longer could swim,
But he that caught fishes, now fishes catch him,
They eat up our fish, without reason or lawes,
But now they are going to pay for the sauce.

To mock at men's miserie is not my aime,
It never can add to an Englishman's fame,
But I may rejoyce that the battel is wonn,
Because in the victory God's will is done ;
Whose justice appears
In such great affairs,
Who will for Amboina plague them and their heirs:
For he that did cumber his conscience with gilt,
In shedding of blood, his own shall be spilt.

In this cruel contest (our fortune was such),
We tooke seventeen men-of-war from the Dutch,
And likewise (as then the occasion requir'd,
And as God would have it) fourteen more were fir'd.
At Amboina, when
They tortur'd our men,
They look'd not to have the same paid them agen :
With fire and with water their sinews they crack't,
In fire and in water they dy'd for the fact.

According as our God of battel commanded,
The best of their vessels were fir'd and stranded ;
All ships, men-of-war ; for what power hath man
To fight with that army, when God leads the van ?
They steere and they stem,
But 'twas so extream,
But men were neer dying, with killing of them;
They lost, when the muskets and cannons so thunder'd,
Twice so many thousand, as we have lost hundred.

Twould make a brave Englishman's heart leap to see't,
But forty ships made an escape of their fleet;
Which our men pursue with much courage and strength
Tis doubtless but we shall surprize them at length ;
If God be our guide,
And stand by our side,
We shall be befriended with fair wind and tide ;
If Providence prosper us with a good gale,
The Dutch, nor the devil shall ever prevaile.

Prince Rupert like lightning flew through their fleet,
Like flame mix'd with powder, their army did meet,
Ten thousand slain bodies the ocean orespread,
That in few hours distance, were living and dead ;
Their Admirals all,
Save one, there did fall,
And death had command like a chief general.
Brave Smith in the Mary did shave out his way
As reapers do wheat, or as mowers do hay.

Stout Lawson and Minn there did play both their parts,
Who emptied their guns in their enemies hearts,
The burly fat Dutchmen being cut out in slips,
The vessels did look more like shambles than ships.
God prosper the fleete,
And send they may meet
De Ruiter to make up the conquest compleat,
God bless all the princes, and every thing
That fights for the kingdom and prayes for the King.