173.

Holmes, the Achates of the general's fight; Who first bewitch'd our eyes with Guinea gold: As once old Cato in the Roman fight

The tempting fruits of Afric did unfold. 174.

With him went Sprag, as bountiful as brave, Whom his high courage to command had

brought :

Harman, who did the twice-fir'd Harry fave,

And in his burning fhip undaunted fought.

175.

Young Hollis on a muse by Mars begot,
Born, Cæfar like, to write and act
Impatient to revenge his fatal shot, .

great deeds:

His right hand doubly to his left succeeds.

176.

Thousands were there in darker fame that dwell,

Whose deeds fome nobler poem shall adorn : And though to me unknown, they fure fought well, Whom Rupert led, and who were British born.

177.

Of every fize an hundred fighting fail :

So vaft the navy now at anchor rides, That underneath it the prefs'd waters fail, And with its weight it shoulders off the tides.

178.

Now anchors weigh'd the feamen fhout so fhrill, That heaven and earth and the wide ocean rings: A breeze from weftward waits their fails to fill, And rests in those high beds his downy wings. 179.

The wary Dutch this gathering ftorm forefaw,
And durft not bide it on the English coaft:
Behind their treacherous fhallows they withdraw,
And there lay fnares to catch the British host.
180.

So the false spider, when her nets are spread,
Deep ambush'd in her filent den does lie:
And feels far off the trembling of her thread,
Whofe filmy cord should bind the ftruggling fly.
181.

Then if at laft fhe find him faft befet,

She iffues forth and runs along her loom : She joys to touch the captive in her net,

And drag the little wretch in triumph home. 182.

The Belgians hop'd, that with diforder'd hafte, Our deep-cut keels upon the fands might run : Or if with caution leisurely were paft,

Their numerous grofs might charge us one by

one.

183.

But with a fore-wind pushing them above,

And fwelling tide that heav'd them from below, O'er the blind flats our warlike fquadrons move,

And with spread fails to welcome battle go.
184.

It feem'd as there the British Neptune ftood,
With all his hofts of waters at command,'
Beneath them to fubmit the officious flood

And with his trident fhov'd them off the fand.

185.

To the pale foes they fuddenly draw near,
And fummon them to unexpected fight:
They start like murderers when ghofts appear,
And draw their curtains in the dead of night.

186.

Now van to van the foremoft fquadrons meet, The midmoft battles haftning up behind: Who view far off the storm of falling fleet, And hear their thunder rattling in the wind. 187.

At length the adverse admirals appear;

The two bold champions of each country's right:

Their eyes describe the lifts as they come near,

And draw the lines of death before they fight.

188.

The distance judg'd for fhot of every fize,

1

The linftocs touch, the ponderous ball expires i

The vigorous feaman every port-hole plies,

And adds his heart to every gun he fires! 189.

Fierce was the fight on the proud Belgians fide, For honor, which they feldom fought before: But now they by their own vain boafts were ty'd, . And forc'd at least in fhew to prize it more.

190.

But sharp remembrance on the English part,
And shame of being match'd by fuch a foe,
Rouze confcious virtue up in every heart,
And seeming to be stronger makes them fo..

191.

Nor long the Belgians could that fleet sustain, Which did two generals fates, and Cæfar's bear: Each several ship a victory did gain,

As Rupert or as Albemarle were there.

192.

Their batter'd admiral too foon withdrew,

Unthank'd by ours for his unfinish'd fight: But he the minds of his Dutch mafters knew,

Who call'd that providence which we call'd flight.

Ι

193.

Never did men more joyfully obey,
Or fooner understood the fign to fly:
With fuch alacrity they bore away,

As if to praise them, all the states stood by.

194.

O famous leader of the Belgian fleet,

Thy monument infcrib'd fuch praise shall wear, As Varro timely flying once did meet, Because he did not of his Rome despair.

195.

Behold that navy, which a while before,

Provok'd the tardy English close to fight; Now draw their beaten veffels close to fhore, As larks lie dar'd to fhun the hobbies flight.

196.

Whoe'er would English monuments survey,
In other records may our courage

know:

But let them hide the ftory of this day,

Whose fame was blemish'd by too base a foe.

197.

Or if too bufily they will enquire

Into a victory, which we disdain;

Then let them know the Belgians did retire
Before the patron faint of injur'd Spain.