Obrazy na stronie


(Thongh then, alas ! that trial be too late)

Nor solitude, nor gentle peace of mind, To find thy father's hospitable gate,

Mistaken maid, shalt thou in forests find : And seats, where ease and plenty brooding sate? 'Tis long since Cynthia and her train were there, Those seats, whence long excluded thou must Or guardian gods made innocence their care That gate, for ever barr'd to thy return: [mourn; Vagrants and outlaws shall offend thy view : Wilt thou not then bewail ill-fated love,

For such must be my friends, a hideous crew and hate a banish'd man, condemn'd in woods to By adverse fortune mix'd in social ill, rove?

Train'd to assault, and disciplin'd to kill ;
Their common loves, a lewd abandon'd pack,

The beadle's lash still fagrant on their back : Thy rise of fortune did I only wed,

By sloth corrupted, by disorder fed, From its decline determin'd to recede;

Made bold by want, and prostitute for bread : Did I but purpose to embark with thee On the smooth surface of a summer's sea ;

With such must Emma hunt the tedious day,

Assist their violence, and divide their prey : While gentle Zephyrs play in prosperous gales,

With such she must return at setting light, And Fortune's favour fills the swelling sails;

Though not partaker, witness of their night. But would forsake the ship, and make the shore,

Thy ear, inard to charitable sounds When the winds whistle, and the tempests roar?

And pitying love, must feel the hateful wounds No, Henry, no: one sacred oath has tied

Of jest obscene and vulgar ribaldry, Our loves: one destiny our life shall guide;

The ill-bred question, and the lewd reply ; Nor wild nor deep our common way divide.

Brought by long habitude from bad to worse, When from the cave thou risest with the day, To beat the woods, and rouse the bounding prey; That latest weapon of the wretches' war,

Must hear the frequent oath, the direful curse, The care with moss and branches I'll adom, And cheerful sit, to wait

And blasphemy, sad comrade of despair. lord's return :

my And, when thou frequent bring'st the smitten deer, What thou would’st follow, what thou must for

Now, Einma, now the last reflection make, (For seldom, archers say, thy arrows err)

sake : I'll fetch quick fuel from the neighbouring wood,

By our ill-omen'd stars, and adverse Heaven, And strike the sparkling flint, and dress the food;

No middle object to thy choice is given. With humble duty, and officious haşte,

Or yield thy virtue, to attain thy love; I'll call the furthest mead for thy repast;


Or leave a banish'd man, condemn'd in woods to
The choicest herbs I to thy board will bring,
And draw thy water from the freshest spring :

And, when at night with weary toil opprest,
Soft slumbers thou enjoy'st, and wholesome rest,
Watchful I'll guard thee, and with midnight prayer Force thee to suffer what thy honour hates :

O grief of heart! that our unhappy fates
Weary the gods to keep thee in their care;

Mix thee amongst the bad; or make thee run And joyous ask, at morn's returning ray,

Too near the paths which Virtne bids thee shum If thou hast health, and I may bless the day.

Yet with her Henry still let Emma go; My thoughts shall fix, my latest wish depend,

With him abhor the vice, but share the woe : On thee, guide, guardian, kinsman, father, friend:

And sure my little heart can never err By all these sacred names be Henry known

Amidst the worst, if Henry still be there. To Emma's heart; and grateful let him own

Our outward act is prompted from within ;
That she, of all mankind, could love but him alone!

And from the sinner's mind proceeds the sins

By her own choice free Virtue is approvd;

Nor by the force of outward objects inor'd. Vainly thou tell'st me, what the woman's care Who has assay'd no danger, gains no praise. Shall in the wildness of the wood prepare:

In a small isle, amidst the widest seas, Thou, ere thou goest, unbappiest of thy kind, Triumphant Constancy has fix'd her seat: Must leave the habit and the sex bebind.

In vain the Syrens sing, the tempests beat: No longer shall thy comely tresses break

Their flattery she rejects, nor fears their threat. In flowing ringlets on thy snowy neck;

For thee alone these little charms I drest: Or sit behind thy head, an ample round,

Condemn'd them, or absolv'd them by thy test. In graceful braids with various ribbon bound : In comely figure rang'd my jewels shonc, No longer shall the bodice aptly lac'd,

Or negligently plac'd for thee alone : From thy full bosom to thy slender waist,

For thee again they shall be laid aside ; That air and harmony of shape express,

The woman, Henry, shall put off her pride Fine by degrees, and beautifully less :

For thee: my clothes, my sex, exchang'd for thee, Nor shall thy lower garments' artful plait, I'll mingle with the people's wretched lee : From thy fair side dependent to thy feet,

O line extreme of human infarny ! Arm their chaste beauties with a modest pride, Wanting the scissars, with these hands I'll tear And double every charm they seek to bide. (If that obstructs my flight) this load of hair. Th’ ambrosial plenty of thy shining hair,

Black soot, or yellow walnut, shall disgrace Cropt off and lost, scarce lower than thy ear This little red and white of Emma's face. Shall stand uncouth : a horseman's coat shall hide These nails with scratches shall deform my breast, Thy taper shape, and comcliness of side :

Tost by my look or colour be express'd The short trunk-hose shall show thy foot and knee The mark of aught high-born, or ever better dresa'd. Licenţious, and to common eye-sight free : Yet in this cornmerce, under this disguise, And, with a bolder stride and looser air,

Let me be grateful still to Henry's eyes; Mingled with men, a man thou must appear. Lost to the world, let inc to him be known :

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My fate I can absolve, if he shall own

Why should'st thou weep? let Nature judge our That, leaving all mankind, I love but him alone.

case ;

I saw thee young and fair ; pursued the chase O wildest thoughts of an abandon'd mind !

Of Youth and Beauty: I another saw Name, habit, parents, woman, left bel.ind,

Fairer and younger : yielding to the law
Ev'n honour dubious, thou preferr'st to go

Of our all-ruling mother, I pursued
Wild to the woods with me: said Emma so?

More youth, more beauty: blest vicissitude! Or did I dream what Emma never said ?

My active beart still keeps its pristine flame; O guilty errour! and ( wretched maid !

The object alter'd, the desire the same. Whose roving fancy would resolve the same

This younger, fairer, pleads her rightful charms; With him, who next should tempt her easy fame; And much I fear, from my subjected mind,

With present power compels inc to her arms. And blow with empty words the susceptible fame. Now why should doubtful terms thy mind perplex ? If Beauty's force to constant love can bind) Confess thy failty, and avow the sex :

years may roll, ere in her turn the maid No longer loose desire for constant love [to rove.

Shall weep the fury of my love decay'd; Mistake : but say, 'tis man with whom thou long'st And weeping follow me, as thou dost now,

With idle clamours of a broken vow.

Nor can the wildness of thy wishes err Are there not poisons, racks, and flames, and So wide, to bope that thou inay'st live with her. swords,

Love, well thou know'st, no partnership allows: That Emma thus must die by Henry's words? Cupid averse rejects divided vows: Yet what could swords or poison, racks or flame,

Then from thy foolish heart, vain maid, remove
But mangle and disjoint this brittle frame! An useless sorrow, and an ill-starr'd love;
More fatal Henry's words; they murder Emma's And leave ine, with the fair, at large in woods to

And fall these sayings from that gentle tongue,
Where civil speech and soft persuasion hung;
Whose artful sweetness and harmonious strain,

Are we in life through one great errour led? Courting my grace, yet courting it in vain,

Is each man perjur'd, and each nymph betray'd! Callid sighs, and tears, and wishes, to its aid;

Of the superior sex art thou the worst? And, whilst it Henry's glowing fame convey'd,

Am I of mine the most completely carst? Still blam'd the coldness of the Nut-brown Maid?

Yet let me go with thee: and going prove, Let envious Jealousy and canker'd Spite

From what I will endure, how much I love. Produce my actions to severcst light,

This potent beauty, this triumphant fair, And tax my open day, or secret night.

This happy object of our different care, Did e'er my tongue speak my unguarded heart

Her let me follow ; her let me attend The least inclin'd to play the wanton's part ?

A servant (she may scorn the vame of friend). Did e'er my eye one inward thought reveal,

What she demands, incessant l'll prepare : Which angels might not hear, and virgins tell?

I'll weave her garlands; and I'll plait her hairt And hast ihou, Henry, in my conduct known

My busy diligence shall deck her board, One fault, but that which I must never own,

(For there at least I may approach my lord) That I, of all mankind, have lov'd but thee alone? And, when her Henry's softer hours adrise

His servant's absence, with dejected eyes

Far I'll recede, and sighs forbid to rise. Vainly thou talk'st of loving me alone:

Yet, when increasing grief brings slow disease, Each man is man; and all our sex is one.

And ebbing life, on terms severe as these, False are our words, and fickle is our mind : Will have its little lamp no longer fed ; Nor in Love's ritual can we ever find

When Henry's mistress shows him Emma dead; Vows made to last, or promises to bind.

Rescue my poor remains from vile neglect: By Nature prompted, and for empire made, With virgin honours let my bearse be deckt, Alike by strength or cunning we invade :

And decent emblem; and at least persuade When arm'd with rage we march against the foe,

This happy nymph, that Emma may be laid We lift the battle-axe, and draw the bow : Where thou, dear author of my death, where she, When, fir'd with passion, we attack the fair, With freqnent eye my sepulchre may see. Delusive sighs and brittle vows we bear;

The nymph amidst her joys may baply breathe Our falsehood and our arms have equal use; One pious sigh, reflecting on my death, As they our conquest or delight produce.

And the sad fate which she may one day prove, The foolish heart thou gav'st, again receive, Who hopes from Henry's vows eternal love. The only boon departing love can give.

And thou forsworn, thou cruel, as thou art, To be less wretched, be no longer true;

If Emma's image ever touch'd thy heart; What strives to fly thee, why should'st thou pur-Thou sure must give one thought, and drop one Forget the present flame, indulge a new; [sue? To her, whom love abandon'd to despair;

(tear Single the loveliest of the amorous youth; To her, who, dying, on the wounded stone Ask for his vow; but hope not for his truth.

Bid it in lasting characters be known,
The next man (and the next thou shalt believe)

That, of maukind, she lov'd but thee alone.
Will pawn his gods, intending to deceive;
Will kneel, implore, persist, o'ercome, and leave.

Hence let thy Cupid aim his arrows right;
Be wise and false, shun trouble, seek delight: Hear, solemn Jove ; and conscious Venus, hear;
Change thou the first, nor wait thy lover's flight. And thou, bright maid, believe me whilat I swezi


No time, no change, no future flame, shall move Nor happiness can 1, nor misery feel,
The well-plac'd basis of my lasting love.

From any turu of her fantastic wheel :
O powerful virtue! O victorious fair !

Friendship's great laws, and love's superior powers, At least, excuse a trial too severe :

Must mark the colour of iny future hours. Receive the triumph, and forget the war.

From the events which thy commands create No banish'd man, condemn'd in woods to rove, I must my blessings or my sorrows date; Entreats thy pardon, and implores thy love: And Henry's will must dictate Emma's fate. No perjur'd knight desires to quit thy arms, Yet, while with close delight and inward pride Fairest collection of thy sex's charms,

(Which from the world my careful soul shall hide) Crown of my love, and honour of my youth! I see thee, lord and end of my desire, Henry, thy Henry, with eterual truth,

Exalted high as virtue can require ; As thou may'st wish, shall all bis life employ, With power invested, and with pleasure cheerd; And found his glory in his Emma's joy.

Sought by the good, by the oppressor fear'd; In me behold the potent Edgar's heir,

Loaded and blest with all the aduent store, Illustrious earl : him terrible in war

Which human vows at sinoking shrines implore ; Let Loyre confess, for she has felt his sword, Grateful and humble grant me to employ And trembling fled before the British lord. My life subservient only to thy joy ; Him great in peace and wealth fair Deva knows; and at my death to bless thy kindness shown For she amidst his spaclous meadows flows;

To her, who of mankind could love but thee alone. Inclines her urn upon his fatten'd lands; And sees his nunerous herds imprint her sands.

While thus the constant pair alternate said, · And thou, my fair, my dove, shalt raise thy Joyful above them and around them play'd thought

Angels and sportive Loves, a numerous crowd ; To greatness next to empire: shalt be brought Smiling they clapt their wings, and low they bow'd : With solemn pomp to my paternal seat ;

They tumbled all their little quivers o'er, Where peace and plenty on thy word shall wait. To choose propitious shafts, a precious store ; Music and song shall wake the marriage-day: That, when their god should take his future darts, And, whilst the priests accuse the bride's delay, To strike (however rarely) constant hearts, Myrtles and roses shall obstruct her way.

His happy skill might proper arins employ, Friendship shall still thy evening feasts adorn; All tipt with pleasure, and all wing'd with joy: And blooming Peace shall ever bless thy norn.

And those, they vow'd, whose lives should imitate Succeeding years their happy race shall run, These lovers' constancy, should share their fate. And Age, unheeded, by delight come on:

The queen of beauty stopt her bridled doves; While yet superior Love shall mock his power : Approv'd the little labour of the Loves; And when old Time shall turn the fated hour, Was proud and pleas'd the mutual vow to hear; Which only can our well-tied knot unfold, And to the triumph call’d the rod of war : What rests of both, one sepalehre shall hold. Soon as she calls, the god is always near.

Hence then for ever from my Emma's breast, “Now, Mars,” she said, “ let Fame exalt her (That heaven of softness, and that seat of rest) Nor let thy conquests only be her choice : (voice : Ye doubts and fears, and all that know to move But, when she sings great Edward froin the field Tormenting grief, and all that trouble love, Return'd, the hostile spear and captive shield Scatter'd by winds recede, and wild in forests rove. In Concord's temple hung, and Gallia taught to

And when as prudent Satum shall complete (yield; EMMA.

The years design’d to perfect Britain's state,

The swift-wing'd power shall take her trump again, O day, the fairest sure that ever rose !

To sing her favourite Anna's wondrous reign; Period and end of anxious Emma's woes !

To recollect unweary'd Marlborough's toils, Sire of her joy, and source of her delight;

Old Rufus' hall unequal to his spoils ; O! wing'd with pleasure, take thy happy flight, The British soldier from his high command And give each future morn a tincture of thy white. Glorious, and Gaul thrice vanquish'd by his hand :: Yet tell thy votary, potent queen of love,

Let her, at least, perform what I desire; Henry, my Henry, will he never rove?

With second breath the vocal brass inspire;Will he be ever kind, and just, and good? And tell the nations, in no vulgar strain, And is there yet no mistress in the wood ?

What wars I manage, and what wreaths I gain. None, none there is; the thought was rash and And, when thy tumults, and thy fights are past; A false idea, and a fancy'd pain. (vain ; And when thy laurels at my feet are cast; Doubt shall for ever quit my strengthen'd heart, Paithful mayst thou, like British Henry, prove: And anxious jealousy's corroding start;

And, Emma-like, let me return thy love. Nor other inmate shall inhabit there,

“Renown'd for truth, let all thy sons appear ; But soft Belief, young Joy, and pleasing Care. And constant beauty shall reward their care." Hence let the tides of plenty ebb and flow,

Mars smild, and bow'd : the Cyprian deity And Fortune's various gale unheeded blow.

Turn'd to the glorious ruler of the sky ; If at my feet the suppliant goddess stands, “ And thou,” she smiling said, “ great god of days And sheds her treasure with unweary'd hands; And verse, behold my deed, and sing my praise; Her present favour cautious I'll embrace,

As on the British earth, my favourite isle, And not unthankful use the proffer'd grace: Thy gentle rays and kindest influence smile, If she reclaims the temporary boon,

Through all her laughing fields and verdant groves, And tries her pinions, Auttering to be gone ; Proclaim with joy these memorable loves. Secure of mind, I'll obviate her intent,

From every annual course let one great day and unconcern'd return the goods she lent. To celebrated sports and floral play YOL X



Be set aside ; and, in the softest lays

wise a Trojan. That this Brute, fourth or Afth Of thy poctic sons, be solemn praise

from Æneas, settled in England, and built Lon. And everlasting marks of honour paid

don, which is called Troja Nova, or Troynovante, To the true lover, and the Nut-brown Maid." is a story which (I think) owes its original, if not

to Geoffry of Monmouth, at least to the monkish writers; yet is not rejected by our great Camden; and is told by Milton, as if (at least) he was

pleased with it, though possibly he does not beAN ODE,

lieve it: however, it carries a poetical authority, which is sufficient for our purpose. It is as cer.

tain that Brute came into England, as that Fneas THE QU}.EN,

went into Italy; and, upon the supposition of

these facts, Virgil wrote the best poem that the ON THE GLORIOUS SUCCESS OF HER MAJESTY'S ARMS,

world ever read, and Spenser paid queen Elizabeth 1706.

the greatest complinicut. WRITTEN IN IMITATION OF SPENSER'S STYLE.

I need not obriate one piece of criticism, that

I bring my hero
Te non paventis funera Galliæ,
Duraque tellus audit Iberia:

From burning 'Troy, and Xanthus red with blood :
Te cæde gaudentes Sicambri
Compositis venerantur arinis.

whereas he was not born when that city was de. Hor. stroyed. Virgil, in the case of his own Æneas

relating to Dido, will stand as a sufficient proof,

that a man, in his poetical capacity, is not acPREFACE.

countable for a little fault in chronology.

My two great examples, Horace and Spenser, When I first thought of writing upon this occa in many things resemble each other: both have a sion, I found the ideas so great and numerous, height of imagination, and a majesty of expression that I judged them more proper for the warmth in describing the sublime; and both know to temof an ode, than for any other sort of poetry: 1 per those talents, and sweeten the description, so therefore set Horace before me for a pattern, and as to make it lovely as well as pompous: both particularly the famous ode, the fourth of the bave equally that agreeable manner of mixing fourth book,

morality with their story, and that curiosa felicitas Qualem ministrum fulminis alitem, &c.

in the choice of their diction, which every writer

aims at, and so very few have reached : both are which he wrote in praise of Drusus, after his ex- particularly fine in their images, and knowing in pedition into Germany, and of Augustus, upon his their numbers. Leaving, therefore, our two mashappy choice of that general. And in the follow-ters to the consideration and study of those who ing poeni, though I have endeavoured to imitate design to excel in poetry, I only beg leave to add, all the great strokes of that ode, I have taken the that it is long since I have (or at least ought to liberty to go off from it, and to add variously, as have) quitted Parnassus, and all the flowery roads the subject and my own imagination carried me. on that side the country; though I thought my. As to the style, the choice I made of following the self indispensably obliged, upon the present ocode in Latin, determined me in English to the casion, to take a little joumey into those parts, stanza ; and herein it was impossible not to have a mind to follow onr great countryman Speaser; which I have done (as well, at least, as I could) in the manner of my expression, and the turn of

ODE. my number: having only added one verse to his stanza, which I thought made the number more When great Augustus govern'd ancient Rome, harmonious; and avoided such of his words as ! And sent his conquering bands to foreign wars; found 100 obsolete. I have, however, retained

Abroad when dreaded, and belor'd at hoine, some few of them, to make the colouring look He saw his faine increasing with his years ; Enure like Spenser's. Behest, command; band, Horace, great bard! (so Fate ordain'd) arose, army i proces, strength; liceet, I know; 1 zvern,

And, bold as were his countrymen in fight, I think; whilurr, heretofort ; and two or three Snatch'd their fair actions from degrading prose, more of that kind, which I hope the ladies will And set their battles in eternal light: pardon ine, and not judge my Muse less hand. High as their trumpets tune Þis lyre he strung, Sonne, though for once she appears in a farthingale. And with his prince's arins he inoraliz'd his song I have also, io Spenser's manner, used Cæsar for the emperor, Boya for Bavaria, Bavar for that When bright Eliza rul'd Britannia's state, prince, Ister for Danube, Iberia for Spain, &c.

Widely distributing her high commands, That noble part of the ode which I just now And boldly wise, and fortunately great, mentioned,

Frecd the glad nations from tyrannic bands;
Gens, que cremato fortis ab Ilio

An equal genius was in Spenser found;
Jactata Tuscis æquoribus, &c.

To the high theine he match'd his poble lags :

He travellid England o'er on fairy ground, where Horace praises the Romans as being de. In mystic notes to sing his monarch's praise : s'ended from neas, I have turned to the honour Reciting wondrous truths in pleasing dreams, of the British nation, descended from Brute, likc- He deck'd Eliza's head with Gloriana's beains

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But, greatest Anna! while thy arms pursue Those laurel groves, (the merits of the south) Paths of renown, and climb ascents of fame, Which thou froin Mahomet didst greatly gain, Which nor Augustus, nor Eliza knew;

While, bold assertor of resistless truth, What poet shall be found to sing thy name? Thy sword did godlike liberty inaintain,

What numberz'shall record, what tongue shall say, Must from thy brow their falling honours shed, + Thy wars on laud, thy triumphs on the main? And their transplanted wreaths must deck a wor• O fainest model of imperial sway!

thier head. What equal pen shall write thy wondrous reign? Who shall attenupts and teats of arms rehearse,

Yet cease the ways of Providence to blame, Nor yet by story told, nor parallel'd by verse?

And human faults with human grief confess;

"Tis thou art chang'd, while Heaven is still the same; Me all too mean for such a task I weet:

From thy ill councils date thy ill success. Yet, if the sovereixn lady reigns to smile,

Impartial Justice holds her equal scales, C
I'll follow Horace with impctuons heat,

Till stronger virtue does the weight incline:
And clothe the verse in Spenser's native style. If over thee thy glorious fue pritails,
By these exainples rightly taught to sing,

He now defends the cause that once was thine. And smit with pleasure of my country's praise, Righteous the the champion shall subdue; Stretching the plumes of an uncommon wing,

For Jove's great handmaid, Power; must Jove's deHigh as Olympus I my flight will raise;

crees pursue. And latest times shall in my numbers read Anna's immortal fame, and Marlborouch's hardy

Hark! the dire trumpets sound their shrill alarms! 1. derd.

Auverquerque, branch'd from the renown'd Nassaus,

Hoary in war, and bent beneath his armis, As the strong eagle in the silent wood,

llis glorious sword with dauntless courage draws. Mindless of warlike rage and hostile care,

When anxious Britain mourn'd her parting lord, Plavs round the rocky elitf or crystal tool,

And all of William that was mortal died; . Till by Jove's high behests call'd out to war, The faithful hero had receiv'd this sword c. And charg'd with thunder of his angry kind, From his expiring master's much-lov'd side. His busoin with the vongrful message glows; Oft from its fatal ire has Louis flown, l'pward the noble bird directs his wing,

Where'er great William led, or Maese and Sambre And, towering round his master's earth-born foes, Swift he collects his fatal stück of ire, Lifts his fierce talon high, and darts the forked fire.

But brandish'd high, in an ill-omen'd hour

To thee, proud Gaul, behold thy justest fear, Sedate and calm thus victor Marlborough sate, The master-sword, disposer of thy power: Shaded with laurels, in his native land,

"Tis that which Cæsar gave the British peeros Till Anna calls him from his soft retreat,

He took the gift: “ Nor ever will I sheathe And gives her second thunder to his hand.

This steell (so Anna's high behests ordain)," Then, leaving sweet repose and gentle case, The general said, “ unless by glorious death With ardent speed he seeks the distant foe; Absolv'd, till conquest has confirm'd your reign. Marching o'er bills and rales, o'er rocks and seas, Returns like these our mistress bids us inake, He ineditates, and strikes the wondrous blow. When from a foreign prince a gift her Britons taka" Our thought flies slower than our geberal's fame: Grasps he the bolt? we ask-wheu he has hurl'd And now fierce (iallia rushes on her foes, the flame.

Her force augmented by the Boyan bands; Wh:n fierce Bavar, on Judoign's spacious plain,

So Volga's stream, increas'd by mountain snows, Did from afar the British chief behold,

Robi with new furt down through Russia's lands. Betwixt despair, and rage, and hope, and pain, Like two great rocks against the raging tide, Something within his warning bosom rollid:

(If Virtue's force with Nature's we compare) Ile views that farourite of in.lulgent Fame,

l'nmov'd the two united chiefs abide, Whom whilom he had met on Işter's shore;

Sustain the impulse, and receive the war. Too well, alts! the man he know's the samne,

Round their firın sjdes, in vain, the tempest beats; Whose prowess there repellil the Boyan power,

And still the foailing wave, with lessen'd power, And sent them trembling through the frighted lands,

retreats. Swift as the whirlwind drivcs Arabia's scatter'd The rage dispers’d, the glorious pair/advance, ! sands.

With mingled anger and collected might, His forider losses he forgets to grieve :

To turn the war, and tell aggressing France, Absolves his fate, if, with a kinder rav,

How Britain's sons and Britain's friends can fighte It now would shine, and only give himn leave On conquest fix'd, and covetous of fame, To balance the account of Blenheim's day. Behold thein rushing through the Gallic host: So the fell lion in the lonely glade,

Thmugh standing corn so runs the sudden flarne, His sicle still smarting with the hunter's spear, Or eastern winds along Sicilia's coast. Therugh deeply wounded, no way yet dismay'd,

They deal their terrours to the adverse nation: Roars terrible, and meditates new war;

Pale Death attends their arms, and ghastly Delo sullen fury traverses the plain,

sulation. To find the renturous foc, and battle him again.

But while, with fiercest ire, Bellona glows, Misguided prince, no longer urge thy fate, And Europe rather hopes than fears her fate; Nos teinpt the hero to unequal war;

While Britain presses her aftlicted foes; Pam'd in misfortune, and in ruin grcat,

What horrour damps the strung, and quells the Confess thc force of Marlborough's stronger star.


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