124. The increafing found is born to either fhore, And with warm wishes each man combats there. 125. Ply'd thick and close as when the fight begun, And now reduc'd on equal terms to fight, 127. The warlike prince had fever'd from the rest Two giant fhips, the pride of all the main ; Which with his one fo vigorously he prefs'd, And flew fo home they could not rise again. 128. Already batter❜d, by his lee they lay, In vain upon the paffing winds they call: The paffing winds through their torn canvass play, And flagging fails on heartless failors fall. 129. Their open'd fides receive a gloomy light, When one dire shot, the last they could fupply, 131. So have I feen fome fearful hare maintain With his loll'd tongue he faintly licks his prey; 133. The prince unjustly does his stars accufe, By mortal valor never must be done. 134. This lucky hour the wife Batavian takes, And warns his tatter'd fleet to follow home: Proud to have fo got off with equal stakes, Where 'twas a triumph not to be o'ercome. 135. The general's force as kept alive by fight, He cafts a frown on the departing foe, And fighs to fee him quit the watery field: His ftern fix'd eyes no fatisfaction show, For all the glories which the fight did yield. 137. Though as when fiends did miracles avow, He stands confefs'd e'en by the boastful Dutch: He only does his conqueft difavow, And thinks too little what they found too much, 138. Return'd, he with the fleet refolv'd to stay ; No tender thoughts of home his heart divide Domestic joys and cares he puts away; ; For realms are houfholds which the great must 139. As those who unripe veins in mines explore, And know it will be gold another day : So looks our monarch on this early fight, Th' effay and rudiments of great fuccefs: Which all-maturing time muft bring to light, While he like heaven does each day's labor blefs. 141. Heaven ended not the first or second day, 142. In burden'd veffels first with speedy care, And as the furgeons of maim'd ships attend. 143. With cord and canvafs from rich Hamburgh fent, His navies molted wings he imps once more : Tall Norway fir, their mafts in battle, spent, And English oak, fprung leaks and planks, reftore. 144. All hands employ'd the royal work grows warm: With glewy wax fome new foundations lay hung: Some arm'd within doors upon duty stay, Or tend the fick, or educate the 146. young. So here fome pick out bullets from the fides, 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 intops: Which well paid o'er, the falt fea waves withftand, And shakes them from the rifing beak in drops. |