Elegy on the Duke of Cumberland (1765)
An Elegy on the much-lamented Death of the Great Duke of Cumberland. He was born April the 15th, 1721. Created Knight of the Bath by King George I. May 27, 1725. Baron of Alderny, Viscount of Prematon inCornwall, Earl of Kenington in Surry, Marquis of Berkhamsted in Hertfordshire, and Duke of Cumberland in July 1726; and on May 18, 1730, elected Knight of the Garter, Ranger of Windsor-Park, Chancellor of the Universities of Dublin and St. Andrew’s, and Fellow of the Royal Society. This Great Prince changed this Life for an immortal one, October the 30th, 1765, in the forty-fifth Year of his Age, to the grief of all who love Libertyand the Good of their COUNTRY. London: Printed by M. Lewis, at the Bible and Dove, in Paternoster-row, for the Author Mary Bayly.
Your mourning Weeds, O Britons, now put on,
And with deep Sorrow, ev’ry Subject, mourn,
For our King’s Son, Duke William, of great Fame,
Made Rebel-Traitors tremble at his Name:
A Briton born, and yet of Brunswick’s Race,
And in all Stations well he fill’d his Place.
Britons! Look back and view his youthful Pro’st,
How he attack’d the French (your mortal Foes)
At Dettingen, by his dear Father’s Side,
And got that Wound, which held him till he dy’d.
O let us mourn in Heart and Habit too,
For him, for us such Dangers did go thro!
And Culloden, may it our Thoughts employ,
Where our Great Prince did gain the Victory;
When that grand Whore, the bloody Beast of Rome,
Sought to destroy and make our Land her own;
Pull down God’s Worship and destroy our King,
And bring in Charles, a French and Popish Thing;
And burn our Bibles, bring their Priest to rule,
And us consume under this Popish Tool;
And Smithfield’s Fires kindle here again,
That not a Protestant might here remain.
Shall we then our Deliv’rer now forget,
Who, under God, did save us from the Pit,
From the grand Tyrant, and his Tyranny,
From France’s Bondage and their Slavery?
How was his Life preserved from that Foe,
When he such Dangers then did undergo?
O Britons mourn! your Loss is very great,
My Heart doth tremble now it to relate;
It will be writ in Annals yet to come,
Of the great Skill of William, George’s Son.
The Hero great, the Wisdom of the Sage
Was fond in him, altho’ a Youth in age:
But cruel Death hath snatch’d him hence away;
Great Cumberland hath finish’d now his Day:
For sudden Death hath call’d him from our Sight;
A Prince in whom all parties took Delight.
Great Cumberland! thy Name we will rehearse,
Altho’ it is in the most doleful Verse.
Ah, William! To whose Name we will advance,
By whom this Land hath had Deliverance.
William’s a Name the British Land will own;
William made Way for George unto the Throne*;
William hath beat the Rebels from this Land,
When that great Prince had then the chief Command†:
William’s a Name all England ought to love;
William’s a Name all Protestants approve.
And our Great Cumberland, our constant Friend,
Let us lament that we have seen his End.
He lov’d his Count’ry, and he took great Care
The Poor should always of his Bounty share.
France was no Way enriched by his Store;
His Wealth was spent upon the British Shore.
Windsor hath lost her Benefactor dear,
And in deep Sorrow pours out many a Tear
For our dear Prince, who did the Poor supply, }
He ne’er upon them cast a scornful Eye, }
Nor their Petition ever did deny. }
Unto our Nobles may he a Pattern be
In Acts of Love and boundless Charity.
He was a Courtier, yet lov’d his Country dear;
His Counsels for their Good did all appear:
And may our Sov’reign his Counsels lay in Heart,
Those which his Royal Uncle did impart:
O may he from them never go astray,
Nor mind the Flatt’rers of the present Day!
Whereby his Subject’s Love he may obtain,
And in their Hearts in Love and Duty Reign:
And may they all, of that illustreous Line,
In wisdom, like their Uncle, brightly shine:
In Counsel and in Conduct may he be
A Pattern unto that whole Family!
May ev’ry Branch have princely Graces giv’n,
And special Grace to qualify for Heav’n:
And may our Council make a noble Stand,
And Justice flourish thro’ Great Britain’s Land.
Thus those about our King may faithful prove,
Promote his Honour, and gain the Subjects Love:
This will asswage our Grief for him that’s gone,
When Flatterers are banish’d from the Throne;
Then will all Malice, Envy, Discord cease,
And Britons join in hearty Love and Peace.
EPITAPH
All Protestants of high and low Degree,
Can you forbear to join your Grief with me;
To view the Tomb where our dear Prince must lie,
And never more behold him with our Eye,
Till Prince and People they shall rise again?
And now we leave him, tho’ our Heart’s in Pain;
We’ll Tears bestow upon the mourning Hearse,
And faithful Love shall end our mournful Verse.
* William III. King of England.
† William Duke of Cumberland.