







 
   
     
       
         The poor distressed people of Holland their humble thanks and acknowledgement for His Majesties gracious favours profer'd them in his late declaration
         Wild, Robert, 1609-1679.
      
       
         
           1672
        
      
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         A96487
         Wing W2147
         ESTC R43822
         42475284
         ocm 42475284
         151450
         
           
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             The poor distressed people of Holland their humble thanks and acknowledgement for His Majesties gracious favours profer'd them in his late declaration
             Wild, Robert, 1609-1679.
          
           1 sheet ([1] p.).
           
             s.n.,
             [London :
             1672]
          
           
             In verse.
             Reproduction of original in: Lincoln's Inn (London, England). Library.
          
        
      
    
     
       
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         eng
      
       
         
           Dutch War, 1672-1678 -- Poetry.
           Broadsides -- London (England) -- 17th century.
        
      
    
     
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           THE
           Poor
           Distressed
           People
           OF
           HOLLAND
           ,
        
         
           Their
           humble
           Thanks
           and
           Acknowledgement
           for
           His
           MAJESTIES
           Gracious
           Favours
           profer'd
           them
           in
           His
           late
           Declaration
           .
        
         
           
             GReat
             Sir
             ,
             whilst
             You
             these
             Favours
             do
             create
          
           
             For
             us
             ,
             You
             do
             our
             Thanks
             Anticipate
             :
          
           
             There
             are
             no
             merits
             on
             our
             part
             ,
             can
             claim
          
           
             The
             least
             from
             You
             ,
             Ingratitude
             's
             our
             shame
             .
          
           
             What
             Poets
             talk
             Achilles
             Spear
             could
             do
             ,
          
           
             Jove's
             threats
             and
             smiles
             are
             verified
             in
             You
             ;
          
           
             If
             You
             but
             say
             You
             'l
             kill
             or
             cure
             't
             is
             done
             ,
          
           
             'Twixt
             Charles
             and
             Jove
             there
             's
             no
             comparison
             :
          
           
             You
             having
             Conquer'd
             by
             Your
             powerful
             Armes
             ,
          
           
             Straight
             by
             Your
             kindness
             salve
             Your
             Captives
             harms
             ;
          
           
             Making
             Your
             Conquests
             double
             ,
             by
             these
             Arts
             ,
          
           
             You
             've
             won
             the
             Field
             ,
             and
             gain'd
             your
             Enemies
             hearts
             .
          
        
         
           
             Had
             You
             dealt
             with
             us
             as
             th'
             Israelites
             of
             old
          
           
             With
             the
             deceitful
             Gibconites
             ,
             have
             sold
          
           
             Us
             and
             our
             Families
             for
             slaves
             ,
             then
             we
          
           
             Had
             known
             a
             precedent
             for
             Your
             Clemencie
             .
          
           
             Our
             Lives
             and
             Liberties
             to
             You
             we
             owe
             ,
          
           
             And
             You
             to
             us
             a
             Fathers
             pity
             show
             ,
          
           
             When
             we'd
             forgot
             those
             hands
             that
             did
             us
             feed
             ,
          
           
             And
             gave's
             relief
             in
             greatest
             time
             of
             need
             .
          
           
             Yet
             whilst
             You
             such
             unheard
             of
             favours
             show
             ,
          
           
             From
             guilty
             breasts
             some
             jealous
             fears
             do
             flow
             ,
          
           
             And
             run
             in
             murm'ring
             streams
             ,
             these
             whine
             and
             cry
             ,
          
           
             No
             favour
             's
             offer'd
             but
             there
             's
             reason
             why
             ;
          
           
             But
             let
             such
             narrow
             souls
             repine
             in
             vain
             ,
          
           
             We
             think
             Your
             grace
             as
             boundless
             as
             Your
             Main
             :
          
           
             Great
             Princes
             like
             to
             gods
             no
             merits
             know
             ,
          
           
             From
             pity
             or
             their
             will
             their
             Favours
             flow
             ;
          
           
             Since
             ,
             Royal
             Sir
             ,
             you
             'r
             pleased
             to
             declare
          
           
             Us
             Your
             
               Free
               Subjects
            
             ,
             it
             shall
             be
             our
             care
          
           
             To
             Render
             double
             Loyalty
             to
             you
          
           
             By
             our
             obedience
             ,
             and
             our
             actions
             too
             .
          
           
             What
             our
             Industry
             hath
             brought
             from
             foreign
             〈◊〉
          
           
             Is
             ready
             to
             attend
             Your
             Royal
             Commands
             ,
          
           
             Each
             active
             hand
             prepared
             is
             to
             bring
          
           
             Their
             richest
             Treasure
             to
             Great
             Britain's
             King
             ;
          
           
             No
             Bank
             ,
             or
             Publick
             Faith
             ,
             being
             so
             secure
          
           
             As
             is
             the
             Faith-Defenders
             Promise
             ,
             sure
             .
          
        
         
           
             Your
             Actions
             are
             so
             just
             ,
             it
             may
             be
             se'd
          
           
             Astraea
             from
             this
             World
             to
             Yours
             is
             fled
             ;
          
           
             So
             will
             Your
             Land
             e're
             long
             be
             stil'd
             the
             Burse
             ,
          
           
             And
             only
             Treasury
             of
             the
             Universe
             .
          
           
             Thus
             you
             'l
             by
             Chymick
             Policy
             attain
          
           
             What
             Lully
             and
             old
             Hermes
             ne're
             could
             gain
             ,
          
           
             Whilst
             the
             Elixer
             of
             Your
             favours
             can
          
           
             Attract
             the
             
             India's
             to
             Your
             Ocean
             ,
          
           
             And
             make
             the
             Thames
             ,
             influenc'd
             by
             Your
             beams
             ,
          
           
             As
             once
             Pactolus
             ,
             run
             in
             golden
             streams
             .
          
        
         
           
             Our
             
               Hoogen
               Moogen's
            
             too
             will
             think
             it
             meet
          
           
             To
             prostrate
             themselves
             and
             Ships
             before
             your
             Fleet
             ,
          
           
             And
             lay
             their
             Treasures
             at
             Your
             Royal
             Feet
             .
          
           
             Thus
             with
             these
             Favours
             You
             the
             World
             affright
             ,
          
           
             Conquering
             your
             Enemies
             ,
             e're
             they
             come
             to
             fight
             ;
          
           
             Each
             Monarch
             trembles
             ,
             and
             of
             You's
             afraid
             ,
          
           
             That
             with
             a
             word
             their
             Countries
             can
             invade
             :
          
           
             They
             oft
             have
             felt
             the
             force
             of
             Britains
             Sword
             ,
          
           
             But
             ne're
             the
             pow'r
             Magnetick
             of
             Your
             Word
             ;
          
           
             The
             one
             at
             random
             strikes
             at
             any
             part
             ,
          
           
             But
             this
             ne're
             fails
             to
             force
             and
             win
             the
             heart
             :
          
           
             So
             shines
             Your
             Virtues
             that
             the
             whole
             world
             must
             own
          
           
             That
             You
             're
             both
             
               Charles
               le
               Grand
            
             ,
             and
             
               Charles
               le
               Bone.
            
             
          
        
         
           
             
               Nescit
               Fama
               Virtutis
               Mori
            
             .
          
        
      
    
     
  

