Alexander Pope His Safe Return from Troy a Congratulatory Poem on the Compleating His Translation of Homer's Ilias. in the Manner of the Beginning of the Last Canto of Ariosto

his safe return from TROY a Congratulatory Poem on the compleating his Translation of Homer's Ilias. in the manner of the beginning of the last Canto of Ariosto.

1.

Long hast thou, Friend been absent from thy soil
Like patient Ithacus at siege of Troy
I have been witness of thy six years toil
Thy daily Labours and thy night's annoy,
Lost to thy native land; with great turmoil
On the wide Sea, oft threatning to destroy.
Methinks with thee, I've trod Sigaean ground,
And heard hoarse Hellespontic shores resound.

2.

Did I not see thee when thou first setst sail
To seek Adventures fair in Grecian Land
Did I not see thy sinking Spirits fail
And wish thy Bark had never left the Strand?
Ev'n in mid Ocean often didst thou quail,
And oft' lift up thy holy eye & hand,
Praying thy Virgin dear, and Saintly Choir
Back to the Port to speed thy Bark entire.

3.

Chear up, my friend; thy dangers now are oer;
Methinks, nay sure the rising Coasts appear,
Hark how the Guns salute from either shore
As thy trim Vessell cuts the Thames so fair;
Shouts answ'ring Shouts from Kent & Essex roar
And Bells break loud through ev'ry gust of Air:
Bonefires do blaze, and bones & Cleavers ring,
As at the coming of some mighty King.

4.

Now pass we Gravesend with a prosp'rous wind,
And Tilbury's white Fort, & long Blackwall;
Greenwich, where dwells the friend of Humankind
More visited than or her Park or Hall,
Withers the good, and with him ever-join'd
Facetious Disney greet thee first of all.
I see his Chimney smoak, & hear him say,
Duke, that's the room for Pope, & that for Gay.

5.

Come in, my Friends, here shall ye dine & lye,
And here shall breakfast & here dine again,
And sup and breakfast on, if ye comply,
For I have still one dozen of Champaigne.
His Voice still lessens, as the Ship saild by,
He waves his hand to bring us back invain.
For now methinks I see proud London's spires,
Greenwich is lost, and Deptford Dock retires.

6.

O what a Concourse swarm on yonder Kay!
The Sky re-echoes with new shouts of joy,
By all this Show, I ween, 'tis Lord Mayor's day,
I hear the Voice of Trumpet & Haut-boy:
But now I see them near, Oh! these are they
Who come in Crouds to welcome thee from Troy:
Hail to the Bard, whom long as lost we mourn'd,
Safe from the Fights of Ten years War return'd!

7.

Of Goodly Dames and Courteous Knights I view
The silken Petticoat, & broider'd Vest,
Yea Peers and mighty Dukes with ribbands blue,
True blue, fair emblem of unstained breast,
Others I see as noble and as true
By no Court badge distinguish'd from the rest
There See I Pulteney, generous good & kind
And gallant Methuen of sincerest mind

8.

[This verse is scored through.]

What Lady's that to whom he gently bends?
Who knows not her? ah those are Howard's Eyes.
How art thou honour'd, number'd with her friends!
For She distinguishes the good & wise.
Harmonious Cowper near her side attends
Now to my heart the glance of Howard flies;
Now Pult'ney's gracefull air I mark full well
With thee, Youth's youngest daughter sweet Lepell.

9.

I see two lovely sisters hand in hand,
The fair-hair'd Martha and Teresa brown,
One Bellenden, the bonniest of the Land
And blue-ey'd Mary, soft & fair as Down;
Yonder I see the cheerfull Dutchess stand
For friendly Zeal & blithsome humour known,
Whence that loud Shout in such a hearty strain?
Why, all the Hamiltons are in her train.

10.

See, see, the decent Scudamore advance
With Winchelsea, still-meditating song
And Sophy How demure came there by chance
Nor knows with whom, nor why she goes along;
Far off from these fair Santlow fam'd for dance
With frolick Bicknell & her Sister Young
With other names by me not to be named
Much lov'd in private, not in publick famed.

11.

But lo aloof the female Band retire;
Now the shrill musick of their Voice is still'd.
Methinks I see fam'd Buckingham admire
That in Troys ruine thou hadst not been kill'd;
Sheffield who knows to strike the living Lyre
With hand judicious, like thy Homer skill'd,
Bathurst impetuous hastens to the Coast,
Whom you & I strive who shall love the most.

14.

Harcourt I see, for eloquence renown'd,
The mouth of Justice, Oracle of Law
Another Simon is beside him found
Another Simon like as Straw to Straw.
There Lansdown smiles whom ev'ry Muse has crown'd.
What miter'd Prelate there commands our awe?
See Rochester approving nods his head
And ranks one modern with the mighty dead.
See there two Brothers greet thee w th applause
Both for prevailing Eloquence renown'd
Argyll the brave and Islay learn'd in Laws
Than whom no truer friends were ever found.
Tom had been nigh you zealous in your Cause
But Tom alas, dear friend is underground
There see I Colman blithe as bird in May
In vast Surprize to see this happy day.
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