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The public wealth to foreign parts convey'd; Yet run for ever by the Muse's skill,
Some troops disbanded, and the rest unpaid. And in the finooth description inurmur ftill.
Rhodes is the lov'reign of the sea no more ; Sometimes to gentle Tiber I retire,
Their fhips unrigg'd, and 1pent their naval storc; And the fam’d river's einpty shore admire,
They neither could defend, nor can pursue, That, destitute of strength, derives its course
But grinn'd their teeth, and cast a helpless view : From thrifty urns and an unfruitful source;
In vain with darts a distant war they try, Yet sung fo often in poetic lays,
Short and more short, the millive weapons fly. With scorn the Danube and the Nile surveys;
Meanwhile the ravishers their crimes enjoy, So high the deathless mule exalts her theme !
And Aving fails and livceping oars employ: Such was the Boyne, a poor inglorious stream,
The cliffs of Rhodes in little space are loit; That in Hibernian vales obscurely stray'd,
Jove's ifle they seek; nor Jove denies his coast. And, unobserv'd, in wild meanders play'd;

In safety landed on the Candian fhore, Till, by your lines and Nassau's fivord renown'd, With gen'rous wines their spirits they restore : Its rising billows thro' the world resound;

There Cymon with his Rhodian friend resides, Where'er the Hero's godlıke acts can pierce,
Both court and wed at once the willing brides. Or where the fame of an immortal verse.
A war ensues; the Cretans own their cause, Oh could the Muse my ravith'd breast inspire
Sviff to defend their hospitable laws;

With warınth like yours, and raise an equal fire,
Both parties lote by turns; and neither wins, Unnumber'd beauties in my verse thall thine,
Till peace propounded by a truce begins. And Virgil's Italy Iliould yield to mine!
The kindred of the sain forgive the deed, See how the golden groves around me smile,
But a short exile must for show precede; That shun the coat of Britain's storiny ille,
The term expir’d, from Candia they remove, Or, when transplanted and preserv'd with care,
And happy cach, at home, enjoys his love. Curse the cold clime, and starve in northern air.

Here kindly warınth their mounting juice fer§ 32. A Letter from Italy to the Right Honour- To nobler tastes and more exalted scents; able Charles Lord Halifax. In the Year 1701. E'en the rough rocks with tender myrtle blooin,

ADDISON.

And trodden weeds send out a rich perfume.

Rear me, fome god, to Baia's gentle feats,
W
HILE you,my Lord,the rural stades admire, Or cover me in Umbria's greca retreats ;

And from Britannia's public posts retire, Where western gales eternally refide,
Nor longer, her ungrateful tons to please, And all the feasons lavish all their pride;
For their advantage sacrifice your

Blossoins, and fruits, and flow'rs together rise ; Me into foreign realms my fate conveys, And the whole

year

in

gay confusion lies. Thro' nations fruitful of immortal lavs,

Immortal glories in my mind revive, Where the foft season and inviting clime And in my soul a thousand passions strive, Conspire to trouble your repose with rhyme. When Rome's exalted beauties I descry, For wherefoe'er I turn my ravisid eyes,

Magnificent in piles of ruin lie. Gay gilded scenes and thining prospects risé,

An amphitheatre's amazing height Poetic fields encompass me around,

Here fills my eye with terror and delight, And still I seem to tread on classic ground; That on its public Thews unpeopled Rome, For here the Muse so oft her harp has ftrung, And held uncrowded nations in its womb; That not a mountain rears its head unsung ; Here pillars rough with sculpture pierce the skies; Renown'd in versc each fhady thicket grows, And here the proud triumphal arches rise, And ev'ry stream in heav'nly numbers flows. Where the old Romans deathless aĉts display'd, How am I pleas’d to search the hills and woods Their base degen’rate progeny upbraid; For rising springs and celebrated Hoods !

Whole rivers here forsake the fields below, To view the Nar, tunultuous in his course, And, wond'ring at their height, through airy And trace the smooth Clitumnus to his fource !

channels flow. To fee the Mincio draw his wat'ry store

Still to new scenes my wand'ring Muse retires; Thro' the long windings of a fruitful Thore, And the dumb show of breathing rocks admires; And hoary Albula's infected tide

Where the smooth chisel all its force has shown, O'er the warm bed of finoking fulphur glide! And soften'd into Alesh the rugged stone.

Fird with a thoafand raptures I survey In solemn filence, a majestic band, Eridanus thro' flow'ry meadows ftray,

Heroes, and gods, and Roman consuls, stand ; The king of floods ! that rolling o'er the plains, Stern tyrants, whoin their cruelties renown, The tow'ring Alps of half their moisture drains, And emperors, in Parian marble frown; [su’d, And proudly Tivoln with a whole winter's snows, While the bright dames to whom they humbly Distributes wealth and plenty where he flows. Still shew the charins that their proud hearts

Sometimes, misguided by the tuneful throng, fubdu'd. I look for streams immortaliz'd in song,

Fain would I Raphael's godlike art rehearse, That loft in fience and oblivion lic [dry) And Mhow th’immortal labours in my verse, [light, (Dumb are their fountams, and their channels Where, from the mingled strength of shade and

A new

ease;

.

A new creation rises to my sight,

Fir'd with the naine, which I so oft have found, Such heav'nly figures from his pencil flow, The distant climes and diff'rent tongues resound, So warm with life his blended colours glow, I bridle in my ltruggling inuse with pain, From theme to theine with secret plcasure tosty That longs to launch into a bolder strain. Amidst the soft variety I'm lost;

But I've already troubled you too long, Here plealing airs my ravishi'd loul confound Nor dare attempt a more advent'rous song. With circling notes and labyrinths of foundi My humble verse demands a softer theme, Here domnes and temples rise in diftant views, A painted meadow, or a purling stream; And op'ning palaces invite my Mule.

Unfit for heroes, whoin immortal lays, (praise. How has kind Heav’n adorn’d the happy land, And lines like Virgil's, or like your's Thould And scatter'd bleilings with a wasteful hand! But what avail her unexhausted stores, Her blooming mountains, and her sunny shores, § 33. The Campaign. Addison. With all the gifts that Heav'n and earth impart, To his Grace the Duke of Marlborough, 170 g. The smiles of nature, and the charms of art, While proud Opprellion in her vallies reigns,

! ...... Rheni pacatur et Iftri And Tyranny usurps her happy plains ?

Omnis in hoc uno variis difcordia ceffit The poor inhabitant beholds in vain

Ordinibus ; lætatur eques, plauditque jenator, The redd'ning orange and the livelling grain;

Votaque patricio certant plebeia favori.' Joyless he fees the growing oils and vines,

CLAUD. de Lund. Stilic. And in the myrtle's fragrant thade repines; Starvcs, in the midst of nature's bounty curst,

Efe aliquam in terris gentem quæ sua impensa, And in the loaden vineyard dies for thirst.

fuo labore ac periculo, bella gera: pro liberOh Liberty! thou goddess heav'nly bright, Profufe of bliss, and pregnant with delight!

tate aliorum. Nec hoc finitimis, aut propinEternal pleasures in thy presence reign,

quæ vicinitatis hominibus, aut terris continenii And siniling Plenty leads thy wanton train; junElis prasiet. Maria trajiciat : ne quod Eas'd of her load, Subjection grows more light, toto orbe terrarum injustum imperium fit, et And Poverty looks cheerful in thy right;

* ubique jus, fas, lex, potentiffima fint." Thou mak’It the gloomy face of Nature gay,

LIV, Hift. lib. 33. Giv'it beauty to the Sun, and pleasure to the Day. Thee, goddess, thee Britannia's isle adores;

WHILE crowds of princes your deserts How has the oft exhausted all her stores,

proclaim, Hov oft, in fields of death, thy presence lought, Proud in their number to enrol your name; Nor thinks the mighty prize too dearly bought! While emperors to you commit their cause, On foreign mountains may the fun refine And Anna's praises crown the vast applause ; The grape's foft juice, and mellow it to wine, Accept, great leader, what the Mufe recites, With citron groves adorn a distant foil,

That in ambitious verse attempts your fights. And the fat olive fivell with floods of oil ; Fir'd and transported with a theme so new, We envy not the warıner clime, that lies Ten thousand wonders op’ning to my view In ten degrees of more indulgent skies,

Shine forth at once ; fieges and storms appear, Nor at the coarseness of our haven repine, And wars and conquests fill th'important year; Tho'o'er our heads the frozen Pleiads shine: Rivers of blood I fee, and hills of lain, 'Tis Liberty that crowns Británnia’s ille, An Iliad rising out of one campaign. And makes her barren rocks' and her bleak The haughty Gaul beheld, with tow'ring pride, mountains sunile.

[fight, His ancient bounds enlarg’d on ev'ry side;
Others with tow'ring piles may please the Pyrene's lofty barriers were subdu'd,
And in their proud aspiring domes delight; And in the midst of his wide empire stood;
A nicer touch to the stretch'd canvass give, Ausonia's states, the victor to restrain,
Or teach their aninated rocks to live;

Oppos’d-their Alps and Apennines in vain,
'Tis Britain's care to watch o'er Europe's fate, Nor found themselves, with strength of rocks im-
And hold in balance each contending state; Behind their everlasting hills secur'd; [mur'd,
To threaten bold presumptuous kings with war, The rising Danube its long race began,
And answer her afiliatcd ncighbour's pray’r.

And half its course thro' the new conquests ran; The Dane and Swede, rous'd up by fierce alarıns, Amaz’d, and anxious for her fov'reign's fates, Bicis the wife conduct of her pious arms; Germania trembled thro' a hundred states; Soon as her fleets appear, their terrors cease, Great Leopold himself was seiz'd with fear; And all the northern world lies hulh'd in peace. He gaz'd around, but saw no succour near;

Th'ainbitious Gaul seholds, with secret dread, He gaz’d, and half-abandon’d to despair Her thunder aim'd at his afpiring head, His hopes on Heav'n, and confidence in prayer. Ani fain her godlike sons would disunite

To Britain's queen the nations turn their eyes ; By foreign golu, or by domestic spitc;

On her refolves the western world relies, Biai ferires ia vain to conquer or divide, Confiding still, anidst its dire alarms, Ilivin Nadau's arms defend, and counsels guide. In Anna's councils, and in Churchill's arms.

Thrice happy Britain, from the kingdoms rent, Whilft here the vine o'er hills of ruins climbs, To fit the guardian of the continent !

Industrious to conceal great Bourbon's crimes. That sees her bravest son advanc'd so high, At length the fame of England's hero drevo And Aourishing so near her prince's cye; Eugenio to the glorious interview, Thy fav’rites grow not up by fortune's sport, Great fouls by instinct to each other turn, Or from the crimnes or follics of a court; Demand alliance, and in friendhip burn; On the firm basis of desert they rife,

A sudden friendship, while with stretcht-out rays From long-try'd faith, and friendthip’s holy tyes: They meet each other, mingling blaze with blaze. Their fov'reign's well-distinguish'd finiles they Polith'd in courts, and harden'd in the field, share;

Renown'd for conquest, and in council skill'd, Her ornaments in peace, her strength in war; Their courage dwells not in a troubled flood The nation thanks them with a public voice; Of melting fpirits, and fermenting blood; By show'rs of blessings Heav'n approves their Lodg'd in the soul, with virrue over-rul'd, Envy itself is dumb, in wonder lost, [choice; Inflam'd by reason, and by reason coolid; and factions strive who shall applaud them moft. In hours of peace content to be unknown,

Soon as soft vernal breezes warm the sky, And only in the field of battle thewn: Pritannia's colours in the zephyrs fly;

To souls like these in mutual friendship join'd, Her chicf already has his march begun, Heav'n dares intrust the cause of humankind. Crossing the provinces himself had won,

Britannia's graceful fons appear in a ms, Till the Moselle, appearing from afar, Her harrafs'd troops the hero's presence warms, Retards the progress of the moving war. Whilst the high hills and rivers all around Delightful stream, had nature bid her fall With thund'ring peals of British shouts resound: In diftant climes, far from the perjur'd Gaul; Doubling their speed, they march with fresh But now a purchase to the sword the lies,

delight, Her harvests for uncertain owners rise,

Eager for glory, and require the fight. Each vineyard doubtful of its master grows, So the staunch hound the trembling decr pursues, And to the victor's bowl cach vintage flows. And finells his footsteps in the tainted dews, The discontented shades of Naughter'd hosts The tedious track unrav’ling by degrees; That wander'd on her banks, her heroes ghosts, But when the scent comes warm in ev'ry breeze, Hop'd, when they saw Britannia's arms appear,

Fir'd at the near approach, he shoots away The vengeance due to their great death was near. On his full stretch, and bears upon his prey.

Our godlike leader, ere the stream he past, The march concludes, the various realms are The mighty scheme of all his labours cait.

past; Forming the wond'rous year within his thought; Th’immortal Schellenberg appears at last : His bofom glow'd with battles yet unfought. Like hills th'aspiring ramparts rise on high ; The long laborious march he first surveys, Like vallies at their feet the trenches lie; And joins the distant Danube to the Maese; Bate'ries on batt’ries guard each fatal pass, Between whole floods such pathlefs forests grow, Threatning destruction ; rows of hollow brass, Such mountains rife, fo many rivers flow, Tube behind tube, the dreadful entrance keep, The toil looks lovely in the hero's cyes, Whilft in theirwombsten thousand thunders sleep. And danger ferves but to enhance the prize. Great Churchill owns, charm'd with the glorious Big with the fate of Europe, he renews

fight, His dreadful course, and the proud foe pursues! His march o’erpaid by such a promis'd fight. Infected by the burning Scorpion's heat,

The weftern fun now Thot a feeble ray, The sültry yales round his chat'd temples beat, And faintly scatter'd the remains of day: Till on the borders of the Maine he finds Ev'ning approach'd; but oh! what host of foce Defenfive shadows, and refreshing winds. Were ever to behold that ev’ning close ! Our British youth, with in-born freedom bold, Thick’ning their ranks, and wedg'd in firm array, Unnumber'd scenes of servitude behold, The close-compacted Britons win their way; Nations of llaves, with tyranny debas’d, In vain thc cannon their throng'd war defac'd (Their Maker's image more than half defac’d) With tracks of death, and laid the battle wafte; Hourly instructed, as they urge their coil, Still pressing forward to the fight, they broke To prize their Queen, and love their native soil. Thro’ Aames of fulphur and a night of smoke,

Still to the riting sun they take their way Till Naughter'd legions fill’d the trench below, Thro' clouds of dust, and gain upon the day. And bore their fierce avengers to the foc. When now the Neckar on its friendly coast High on the works the mingling hosts engage; With cooling Itreams revives the fainting host, The battle kindlcd into tenfold rage, That cheerfully his labours paft forgets, With show'rs of bullets, and with storms of fire The midnight watches, and the noonday heats. Burns in full fury; heaps on heaps expire,

O'er proftrate towns and palaces they pass Nations with nations inix'd confus'dly die, (Now cover'd o'er with woods, and hid in grass) And lost in one promisc’ous carnage lie. Breathing revenge; whilft anger and disdain How many gen'rous Britons meet their doom, Fire ev'ry breast, and boil in ev'ry vein. New to the field, and heroes in their bloom! Herc shatter'd walls, like broken rocks, from far | Th'illustrious youths, that left their native shore Rise up in hideous views, the guilt of war, To march where Britons never march'd before

(O fatal

O fatal love of fame! O glorious heat, Long did he itrive th’obdurate foc to gain
Only destructive to the brave and great!) By proffer'd grace, but long he'strove in vain ;
After such toils o'ercome, such dangers paft, Till, fir'd at length, he thinks it vain to spare
Stretch'd on Bavarian ramparts breathe their last. His rising wrath, and gives a loose to war.
But hold, my Muse, may no complaints appear, In vengeance rous'd, the soldier fills his hand
Nor blot the day with an

ungrateful tear: With lword and fire, and ravages the land;
While Marlb'roughlives, Britannia's stars dispense A thousand villages to ashes turns,
A friendly light, and shine în innocence:

In crackling flames a thousand harvests burns, Plunging thro' seas of blood his fiery steed To the thick woods the woolly flocks retreat, Where'er his friends retire, or foes succeed; And mix'd with bellowing herds confus’dly blcats Those he supports, these drives to ludden flight, Their trembling lords the common shade partake, And turns the various fortune of the fight. And cries of infants found in ev'ry brake:

Forbear, great man, renown'd in arms, forbear The list’ning soldier fixt in forrow stands,
To brave the thickeft terrors of the war, Loth to obey his leader's just commands;
Nor hazard thus, confus'd in crowds of focs, The leader grieves, by gen'rous pity sway'd,
Britannia's safety, and the world's repose; To see his just commands so well obey'd.
Let nations anxious for thy life abate

But now the trumpet, terrible from far,
This scorn of danger, and contempt of fate: In Thriller clangors animates the war;

Thou liv'it not for thyself; thy Queen demands Confed’rate drums in fuller concert beat,
Conquest and peace from thy victorious hands; And echoing hills the loud alarm repeat:
Kingdoms and empires in thy fortune join, Gallia's proud standards to Bavaria’s join'd,
And Europe's destiny depends on thine.

Unfurl their gilded lilies in the wind;
At length the long-disputed pass they gain, The daring prince his blafted hopes renews,
By crowded armies fortify'd in vain;

And, while the thick embattled hoft he views,
The war breaks in, the fierce Bavarians yield, Stretcht out in deep array, and dreadful length,
And see their camp with British legions fillid. His heart dilates, and glories in his strength.
So Belgian mounds bear on their shatter'd fides The fatal day its mighty course began,
The fea's whole weight, increas'd with swelling That the griev'd world had long desir’d in vain;
But if the rushing wave a passage finds, (tides; States that their new captivity bemoan'd,
Enrag'd by wat’ry moons, and warring winds, Armies of martyrs that in exile groan'd,
The trembling peasant sees his country round Sighs from the depth of gloomy dungeons heard,
Cover'd with tempefts, and in occans drown'd. And pray’rs in bitterness of soul preferr'd,

The few surviving foes disperse in flight Europe's loud cries, that Providence affailid,
(Refuse of swords, and gleanings of a fight) And Anna's ardent vows at length prevailid;
In ev'ry rustling wind the victor hear,

The day was come when Heav'n design'd to show
And Marlb'rough's form in ev'ry shadow fear, His care and conduct of the world below.
Till the dark cope of night with kind embrace Behold in awful march and dread array
Befriends the rout, and covers their disgrace. The long extended squadrons shape their way i
To Donavert, with unrefifted force,

Death, in approaching terrible, imparts
The gay victorious army bends its course. An anxious horror' to the bravest hearts;
The growth of mcadows, and the pride of fields, Yet do their beating breasts demand the strife,
Whatever spoils Bavaria’s summer yields And thirst of glory quells the love of life.
(The Danube's great increase) Britannia shares No vulgar fcars can British minds control:
The food of armies and support of wars : Heat of revenge and noble pride of soul
With magazines of death, destructive balls, O’erlook the foe, advantay'd by his post,
And cannon dooin'd to batter Landau's walls, Lessen his numbers, and contract his hoft;
The victor finds each hidden cavern stor'd, Tho'fens and floods possess the middle space,
And turns their fury on their guilty lord. That unprovok'd they would have fear'd to pass;

Deluded Prince ! how is thy greatness croft, Nor fens nor foods can stop Britannia's bands,
And all the gaudy dream of empire loft, When her proud fos rang'd on their borders
That proudly set thee on a fancy'd throne,

stands.

tind And made imaginary realms thý own!

But O, my Muse, what numbers wilt thor
Thy troops, that now behind the Danube join, To fing the furious troops in battle join'd!
Shall shortly seek for shelter from the Rhine, Methinks I hear the drums tumultuous found
Nor find it there! surrounded with alarms, The victors shouts and dying groans confound;
Thou hop'st th'attistance of the Gallic arms; The dreadful burst of cannon rend the skies,
Thé gallic arms in fafety shall advance, And all the thunder of the battle rise.
And crowd thystandards with the pow's of France, \ 'Twas then great Marlb'rough's mighty soul
While, to exalt thy doom, th'aspiring Gaul

was provid,
Shares thy destruction, and adorns thy fall. That, in the shock of charging hofts unmov'd,

Unbounded courage and compassion join'd, Amidst confusion, horror, and despair, Témp'ring each other in the vidtor's mind, Examin'd all the dreadful scenes of war : Alternately proclaim him good and great, In peaceful thought the field of death furver'd, And make the Hero and the Man complete. To fainting squadrons fent the timely aid,

7

Inspir'd repuls'd battalions to engage,

Give thy brave foes their duc; nor blush to owa And taught the doubtful battle where to rage. The fatal field by Tuch great leaders won; So when an angel by divine command

The field whence fain'd Eugenio bore away With rising teinpeits shakes a guilty land, Only the second honours of the day. Such as of late o'er pale Britannia past,

With floods of gore that from thevanquilh'd fell Calm and serene he drives the furious blait; The marshes stagnate, and the rivers (well. And, pleas'd th’Almighty's orders to perform, Mountains of Nain lie heap'd upon the ground, Rides in the whirlwind, and directs the storm. Or 'midst the roarings of the Danube drown'd;

But see thc haughty houshold-troops advance! Whole captive hosts the conqueror detains The dread of Europe, and the pride of France. In painful bondage, and inglorious chains; The war's whole art each private soldier knows, Ev'n those who 'lcape the fetters and the fword, And with a General's love of conquest glows; Nor seek the fortunes of a happier lord, Proudly he marches on, and, void of fear, Their raging King dishonours, to complete Laughs at the Thaking of the British 1pcar: Marlb'rough's great work, and finish the defeat. Vain infolence! with native freedom brave, From Memminghen's high domes, and Aug. The meancft Briton fcorns the highest slaves

fburg's walls, Contempt and fury fire their souls by turns ; The diftant battle drives th’insulting Gauls: Each nation's glory in each warrior burns; Frced by the terror of the victor's name, Each fights, as in his arm th’important day The rescu'd States his great protection claim; And all the fate of his great monarch lay: Whilft Ulme th’approach of her deliv’rer waits, A thousand glorious actions, that mighi claim And longs to open her obsequious gates. Triumphant laurels and immortal fame,

The hero's breast still swells with great designs, Confus'd in crowds of glorious actions lie, In ev'ry thought the tow'ring genius thines: And troops of herocs undistinguish'd die. If to the foe his dreadful course he bends, O Dormer, how can I bchold thy fate,

O'er the wide continent his march extends; And not the wonders of thy youth relate ! If fieges in his labouring thoughts are form’d, How can I see the gay, the brave, the young, Camps are allaulted, and an army storm'd; Fall in the cloud of war, and lie unsung ! If to the fight his active foul is bent, In joys of conqueft he resigns his breath, The fate of Europe turns on its event. And, fill'd with England's glory, liniles in death! | What distant land, what region can afford

The rout begins, the Gallic squadrons run, An action worthy his victorious sword? Compell’d in crowds to meet the fate they fhun; Where will he next the Aying Gaul defeat,

Thousands of ficry steeds with wounds transtixt, And make the series of his toils complete?
Floating in gore, with their dead masters mixt, Where the tivoln Rhine rushing with all its force
Midit heaps of fpcars and standards driven Divides the hostile nations in its course,
around,

While each contracts its bounds, or wider grows,
Lie in the Danube's bloody whirlpools drown'd. Enlarg’d or straiten’d as the river flows,
Troops of bold youths, born on the distant Soane, On Gallia's side a mighty bulwark stands,
Or founding borders of the rapid Rhone, That all the wide-extended plain commands;
Or where the Seine her flow'ry fields divides, Twice, since the war was kindled, has it try'd
Or where the Loire through winding vineyards The victor's rage, and twice has chang'd its side;
ylides,

As oft whole armies, with the prize o'erjoy'd,, In heaps the rolling billows sweep away, Have the long tuminer on its walls employ'd. Andinto Scythian feas their bloated corps convey. Hither our mighty chief his arms directs; From Bienheim's tow’rs the Gaul, with wild af. Hence future triumphs from the war expects; Bcholds the various havock of the fight; (fright, And, tho' the dog-Itar had its course begun, His waving banners, that so oft had stood Carries his arms still nearer to the sun : Planted in fields of death and streams of blood, Fixt on the glorious action, he forgets So wont the guarded enemy to reach,

The change of seasons and increase of heats; And rise triumphant in the fatal breach, No toils are painful that can danger fhow, Or pierce the broken foe's remotest lines, No climes unlovely that contain a foe. The hardy veteran with tears resigns.

The roving Gaul, to his own bounds restrain’d, Unfortunate Tallard! Oh, who can name Learns to incamp within his native land, The pangs of rage, of sorrow, and of thame, But soon as the victorious hoft he fpics, That with mixt tuinult in thy bofom firellid, From hill to hill, from stream to stream he Aies : When first thou faw’lt thy bravest troops repellid, Such dire impreffions in his heart remain Thine only fon pierc'd with a deadly wound, Of Marlborough's lword, and Hochstet's fatal Choak'd in his biood, -and gasping on the In vain Britannia's mighty chief besets (plain : ground,

Their shady coverts and obscure retreats ; Thyself in bondage by the victor kept ! They fy the conqueror's approaching fame, The chief, the father, and the captive wept. That bears the force of armies in his name. An English Muse is touch'd with gen'rous woe, Austria's young monarch, whose imperial swag And in th’unhappy man forgets the foe ! Sceptres and thrones are destin'd to obey ; Greatly diftreft ! thy loud complaints forbear; Whole boaited ancestry fo high extends, Blame not the turns of fate, and chance of war; ' That in the pasta gods his lineage ends,

Comea

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