Our prince alone would have the public voice;
And all his neighbours' realms would deserts make.

45 He without fear a dangerous war pursues,

Which without rashness he began before:
As honour made him first the danger choose,
So still he makes it good on virtue's score.

46 The doubled charge his subjects' love supplies, Who, in that bounty, to themselves are kind: So glad Egyptians see their Nilus rise,

And in his plenty their abundance find.

47 With equal power he does two chiefs 1 create,
Two such as each seem'd worthiest when alone;
Each able to sustain a nation's fate,

Since both had found a greater in their own.

48 Both great in courage, conduct, and in fame,
Yet neither envious of the other's praise;
Their duty, faith, and interest too the same,
Like mighty partners equally they raise.

49 The prince long time had courted fortune's love,
But once possess'd, did absolutely reign:

Thus with their Amazons the heroes strove,
And conquer'd first those beauties they would gain.

50 The Duke beheld, like Scipio, with disdain,

That Carthage, which he ruin'd, rise once more; And shook aloft the fasces of the main,

To fright those slaves with what they felt before.

Two chiefs:' Prince Rupert and Monk.

51 Together to the watery camp they haste,

Whom matrons passing to their children show :
Infants' first vows for them to heaven are cast,
And future people bless them as they go.

52 With them no riotous pomp, nor Asian train,
T'infect a navy with their gaudy fears;
To make slow fights, and victories but vain :
But war severely like itself appears.

53 Diffusive of themselves, where'er they pass,
They make that warmth in others they expect;
Their valour works like bodies on a glass,
And does its image on their men project.

54 Our fleet divides, and straight the Dutch appear,
In number, and a famed commander, bold:
The narrow seas can scarce their navy bear,
Or crowded vessels can their soldiers hold.

55 The Duke, less numerous, but in courage more,
On wings of all the winds to combat flies:
His murdering guns a loud defiance roar,
And bloody crosses on his flag-staffs rise.

56 Both furl their sails, and strip them for the fight; Their folded sheets dismiss the useless air:

The Elean plains could boast no nobler sight,
When struggling champions did their bodies bare.

57 Borne each by other in a distant line,

The sea-built forts in dreadful order move:
So vast the noise, as if not fleets did join,
But lands unfix'd, and floating nations strove.

58 Now pass'd, on either side they nimbly tack;
Both strive to intercept and guide the wind:
And, in its eye, more closely they come back,
To finish all the deaths they left behind.

59 On high-raised decks the haughty Belgians ride,
Beneath whose shade our humble frigates go:
Such port the elephant bears, and so defied
By the rhinoceros, her unequal foe.

60 And as the build, so different is the fight; Their mounting shot is on our sails design'd: Deep in their hulls our deadly bullets light,

And through the yielding planks a passage find.

61 Our dreaded admiral from far they threat,

Whose batter'd rigging their whole war receives: All bare, like some old oak which tempests beat,

He stands, and sees below his scatter'd leaves.

62 Heroes of old, when wounded, shelter sought;
But he who meets all danger with disdain,
Even in their face his ship to anchor brought,
And steeple-high stood propt upon the main.

63 At this excess of courage, all amazed,

The foremost of his foes awhile withdraw:
With such respect in enter'd Rome they gazed,
Who on high chairs the god-like fathers saw.

64 And now, as where Patroclus' body lay,

Here Trojan chiefs advanced, and there the Greek;
Ours o'er the Duke their pious wings display,
And theirs the noblest spoils of Britain seek.

65 Meantime his busy mariners he hastes,

His shatter'd sails with rigging to restore;
And willing pines ascend his broken masts,

Whose lofty heads rise higher than before.

66 Straight to the Dutch he turns his dreadful prow, More fierce th' important quarrel to decide: Like swans, in long array his vessels show,

Whose crests advancing do the waves divide.

67 They charge, recharge, and all along the sea They drive, and squander the huge Belgian fleet; Berkeley 1 alone, who nearest danger lay,

1

Did a like fate with lost Creusa meet.

68 The night comes on, we eager to pursue

The combat still, and they ashamed to leave:
Till the last streaks of dying day withdrew,
And doubtful moonlight did our rage deceive.

69 In th' English fleet each ship resounds with joy, And loud applause of their great leader's fame: In fiery dreams the Dutch they still destroy,

And, slumbering, smile at the imagined flame.

70 Not so the Holland fleet, who, tired and done, Stretch'd on their decks like weary oxen lie; Faint sweats all down their mighty members run; Vast bulks which little souls but ill supply.

71 In dreams they fearful precipices tread :

Or, shipwreck'd, labour to some distant shore:
Or in dark churches walk among the dead;

They wake with horror, and dare sleep no more.

''Berkeley:' Vice-admiral Berkeley fought till his men were all killed, and was found in the cabin dead and covered with blood.

72 The morn they look on with unwilling eyes,

Till from their main-top joyful news they hear Of ships, which by their mould bring new supplies, And in their colours Belgian lions bear.

73 Our watchful general had discern'd from far This mighty succour, which made glad the foe: He sigh'd, but, like a father of the war,

His face spake hope, while deep his sorrows flow.

74 His wounded men he first sends off to shore,
Never till now unwilling to obey:

They, not their wounds, but want of strength deplore,
And think them happy who with him can stay.

In

75 Then to the rest, Rejoice, said he, to-day; you the fortune of Great Britain lies: Among so brave a people, you are they

Whom Heaven has chose to fight for such a prize.

76 If number English courages could quell,

We should at first have shunn'd, not met, our foes, Whose numerous sails the fearful only tell :

Courage from hearts and not from numbers grows,

77 He said, nor needed more to say: with haste
To their known stations cheerfully they go;
And all at once, disdaining to be last,
Solicit every gale to meet the foe.

78 Nor did th' encouraged Belgians long delay,

But bold in others, not themselves, they stood : So thick, our navy scarce could steer their way, But seem'd to wander in a moving wood.