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124 The increasing found is born to either fhore,

And for their stakes the throwing nations fear : Their passions double with the cannons roar, And with warm wishes each man combats there.

125 Ply'd thick and close as when the fight begun, : Their huge unwieldy navy wastes away : So ficken waining moons too near the sun, And blunt their crescents on the edge of day.

126. And now reduc'd on equal terms to fight,

Their fhips like wasted patrimonies show r Where the thin scattering trees admit the light, And shun each other's fhadows as they grow.

127 The warlike prince had sever'd from the rest

Two giant ships, the pride of all the main ; Which with his one so vigorously he press’d, And flew fo home they could not rise again.

128. Already batter'd, by his lee they lay,

In vain upon the passing winds they call : The passing winds through their torn canvass play, And flagging fails on heartless failors fall.

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Their open'd fides receive a gloomy light,

Dreadful as day let into shades below :
Without grim death rides barefac'd in their fight,
urges entering billows as they flow.

130. When one dire shot, the last they could supply,

Close by the board the prince's main-maft bore: All three now helpless by each other lie,

And this offends not, and those fear no more.

the plain,

131. So have I seen some fearful hare maintain

A course, till tired before the dog she lay : Who stretch'd behind her

pants upon Past power to kill, as she to get away.

132. With his loll’d tongue he faintly licks his prey;

His warm breath blows her flix up as the lies ; She trembling creeps upon the ground away,

And looks back to him with beseeching eyes.

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133. The prince unjustly does his stars accufe,

Which hinder'd him to push his fortune on ; For what they to his courage did refuse,

By mortal valor never must be done.

134• This lucky hour the wise Batavian takes,

And warns his tatter'd fleet to follow home : Proud to have so got off with equal stakes, Where 'twas a triumph not to be o'ercome.

135 The general's force as kept alive by fight,

Now not oppos'd no longer can pursue: Lasting 'till heaven had done his courage right; When he had conquer'd he his weakness knew.

136. He casts a frown on the departing foe,

And fighs to see him quit the watery field : His stern fix'd eyes no satisfaction show, For all the glories which the fight did yield.

137. Though as when fiends did miracles avow,

He stands confess’d e’en by the boastful Dutch: He only does his conquest disavow, And thinks too little what they found too much,

138. Return'd, he with the fleet resolv'd to stay; : No tender thoughts of home his heart divide Domestic joys and cares he puts away ; For realms are housholds which the great must

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As those who unripe veins in mines explore,

On the rich bed again the warm turf lay,
Till time digests the yet imperfect ore,
And know it will be gold another day :

140. So looks our monarch on this early fight,

Th'essay and rudiments of great success : Which all-maturing time must bring to light, While he like heaven does each day's labor bless.

141. Heaven ended not the first or second day,

Yet each was perfect to the work design'd: God and kings work, when they their work survey, A passive aptness in all subjects find.

142. In burden'd vessels first with speedy care,

His plenteous stores do season'd timber send : Thither the brawny carpenters repair, And as the furgeons of maim'd ships attend.

143 With cord and canvass from rich Hamburgh sent,

His navies molted wings he imps once more : Tall Norway fir, their masts in battle, spent, And English oak, fprung leaks and planks,


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144. All hands employ'd the royal work grows warm :

Like laboring bees on a long summer's day, Some found the trumpet for the rest to swarm, And some on bells of tasted lillies play.

With glewy wax some new foundations lay
Of virgin-combs which from the roof are

Some arm'd within doors upon duty stay,
Or tend the sick, or educate the young:

So here some pick out bullets from the sides,

Some drive old okum through each feam and

rift :

Their left hand does the calking iron guide,
The rattling mallet with the right they lift.

With boiling pitch another near at hand,
From friendly Sweden brought, the seams in-

stops : Which well paid o'er, the salt sea waves with

stand, And shakes them from the rising beak in drops.

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