A Panegyrick upon Oates

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A
PANEGYRICK

UPON
OATES.

Silvestrem tenui musam meditemur Avena.

 

Of all ye Graine our Nation yields
In Orchards Gardens or in Fields
There is A Grain wch tho tis com̄on
Its Worth till now was known to no man
Not Ceres cicle ere did crop
A Graine with eares of greater hope;
For why? some say the earth n'ere bore
In any clime such seed before.
Yet this Graine has (as all must own)
To Grooms and ostlers well been known;
And often has without disdaine
In musty barne and manger laine
As if it had bin only good
To be for Birds and Beasts the Food:
But now by new inspired force
It keeps alive both man and horse.
Speake then, my Muse, for now we guess
What Graine it is thou wouldst express.
It is not Barley, Rye, or Wheat,
That can pretend to such a feat
Tis Oates, bare Oates, which is become
The Health of England, Bane of Rome,
And Wonder of all Christendome.

And therefore Oates has well deservd
From musty Barne to be preferd
And now in Royall Court preservd

That like Hesperian Fruit Oates may
Be watchd and guarded night and day;
Which is but just Retaliation
For having guarded A whole Nation.
Hence every lofty Plant which stands
'Twixt Barwick walls and Dover sands,
The Oake it selfe, which well wee stile
The Pride and safe guard of our Isle,
Must wave and strike its lofty head,
And now salute an Oaten Reed
For surely Oates deserves to be
Exalted far 'bove any Tree.
The Egiptians once (tho it seems odd
Did worship onions for A God
And poore peeld Garlick was with them
Esteemd beyond the greatest Gemm.
What would they done, had they, think yee,
Had such a blade of Oates as wee?
Oates of such known Divinity!

Since then by Oates such good wee find,
Let Oates at least now be enshrind,
Or in some sacred Press inclosd
Be only kept to be exposd;
And all fond Reliques else shall be
Deemd objects of Idolatry.
Popelings may tell us how they saw
Their Garnets Picture on A straw
Twas a Great miracle wee know
To see him drawn in little so,
But on an Oaten stalk there is
A greater miracle than this
A visage which with lively grace
Does twenty Garnets now out face,
And like Twigg of Dodona's Grove
Ev'en speaks as if inspird by Jove.
Nay to add to the wonder more,
Declares unheard of things before
And Thousand misteries does unfold
As plain as Oracles of old;
By which wee steer affairs of State
And stave of Brittaines sullen Fate.
Lets then in honour of the name
Of Oates enact some solemne Game,
Where oaten Pipe shall us inspire,
Beyond the charms of Orpheus Lyre;
Stones, Stocks and every Senceless thing
To Oates shall dance, to Oates shall sing
Whilst Woods amazd to the Ecchos ring.

And as (that Hero's names may not
When they are rotten be forgott)
Wee hang Atchievments o're their dust,
(A Debt to their great merits iust;)
So if deserts of Oates wee prize,
Let Oates still hang before our eyes:
Thereby to raise our Contemplation
Oates being to this happy nation,
The mistick Embleme of Salvation.

FINIS.


This work was published before January 1, 1924, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.