175.

Young Hollis on a mufe by Mars begot,
Born, Cæfar-like, to write and act great deeds:
Impatient to revenge his fatal fhot,

His right hand doubly to his left fucceeds.

176.

705

Thousands were there in darker fame that dwell, Whofe deeds fome nobler poem shall adorn: And, though to me unknown, they fure fought well,

Whom Rupert led, and who were British

born.

177.

710

Of every fize an hundred fighting fail:
So vaft the navy now at anchor rides,
That underneath it the prefs'd waters fail,
And with its weight it shoulders off the tides.

178,

Now, anchors weigh'd, the feamen fhout fo fhrill,

715

That heaven, and earth, and the wide ocean

rings :

Ver. 703.] Captain Hollis, of the Antelope fhip of war, loft a hand in this memorable fight: to his writings I confefs myself a ftranger. I believe it is the fame perfon who commanded the Cambridge under the name of Sir Fretchville Hollis, in 1672, when he was killed in another fea-fight with the Dutch.

DERRICK. Ver. 707. Thousands were there in darker fame that dwell,] "Multi præterea quos fama obfcura recondit." JOHN WARTON,

A breeze from weftward waits their fails to fill, And refts in those high beds his downy wings.

179.

The wary Dutch this gathering ftorm forefaw, And durft not bide it on the English coaft: 720 Behind their treacherous fhallows they withdraw,

And there lay fnares to catch the British hoft.

180.

So the falfe fpider, when her nets are spread, Deep ambush'd in her filent den does lie: And feels far off the trembling of her thread, Whofe filmy cord fhould bind the struggling

fly.

181.

Then if at laft fhe find him faft befet,

726

She iffies forth, and runs along her loom : She joys to touch the captive in her net, And drag the little wretch in triumph

home.

182.

730

The Belgians hop'd, that, with disorder'd haste,
Our deep-cut keels upon the fands might run :
Or, if with caution leifurely were past,
Their numerous grofs might charge us one
by one.

Ver. 723. So the falfe] Elegantly expreffed, but hardly equal to Pope's Spider. Dr. J. WARton.

183.

But with a fore-wind pushing them above, 735 And fwelling tide that heav'd them from below,

O'er the blind flats our warlike fquadrons move, And with spread fails to welcome battle go.

184.

It feem'd as there the British Neptune ftood, With all his hofts of waters at command, 740 Beneath them to submit th'officious flood; And with his trident shov'd them off the sand.

185.

To the pale foes they fuddenly draw near,
And fummon them to unexpected fight:
They start like murderers when ghosts appear,
And draw their curtains in the dead of
night.

186.

746

Now van to van the foremost fquadrons meet*, The midmoft battles hafting up behind:

Who view far off the ftorm of falling fleet, And hear their thunder rattling in the wind.

Ver. 742.

with his trident fhov'd them off the fand.] Levat ipfe tridenti, et vaftas aperit fyrtes, &c. Virg.

750

Original edition.

* Second battle. Original edition.

Ver. 748.
Derrick has, hastning.

hafting up behind:] Original edition.

TODD.

187.

At length the adverfe admirals appear;

The two bold champions of each country's right:

Their

eyes defcribe the lifts as they come near, And draw the lines of death before they fight.

188.

The distance judg'd for shot of

every fize, 755 The linftocks touch, the ponderous ball ex

pires:

The vigorous feaman every port-hole plies, And adds his heart to every gun he fires!

189.

Fierce was the fight on the proud Belgians fide, For honour, which they feldom fought be

fore:

760

But now they by their own vain boasts were

ty'd,

And forc'd, at leaft in fhow to prize it more.

190.

But sharp remembrance on the English part,
And shame of being match'd by fuch a foe,
Rouze confcious virtue up in every heart,
And seeming to be ftronger makes them fo.

Ver. 766. And feeming to be stronger makes them fo.]
Poffunt, quia poffe videntur. Virg.

765

Original edition.

191.

Nor long the Belgians could that fleet fuftain, Which did two generals' fates, and Cæfar's

bear:

Each several ship a victory did gain,

As Rupert or as Albemarle were there.

192.

Their batter'd admiral too foon withdrew,

770

Unthank'd by ours for his unfinish'd fight: But he the minds of his Dutch mafters knew, Who call'd that providence which we call'd flight.

193.

Never did men more joyfully obey,

Or fooner understood the sign to fly:

With fuch alacrity they bore away,

As if to praise them all the States ftood by.

194.

O famous leader of the Belgian fleet,

775

Thy monument infcrib'd fuch praise shall

wear,

As Varro timely flying once did meet,

Because he did not of his Rome despair.

195.

Behold that navy, which a while before
Provok'd the tardy English to the fight;

Ver. 784.

780

English to the fight;] Orig. ed. This I think must be the poet's own reading; and Derrick's "close to fight," I fuppofe an errour: close occurs in the next line.

TODD.