All bare, like fome old oak which tempefts beat, LXII. Heroes of old, when wounded, fhelter fought; At this excefs of courage, all amaz'd, The foremost of his foes a while withdraw: With fuch refpect in enter'd Rome they gaz'd, Who on high chairs the god-like fathers faw. LXIV. And now, as where Patroclus' body lay, Here Trojan chiefs advanc'd, and there the Greek; Ours o'er the Duke their pious wings difplay, And theirs the nobleft fpoils of Britain feek. LXV. Mean time his bufy mariners he haftes, His fhatter'd fails with rigging to restore; Straight to the Dutch he turns his dreadful prow, Like fwans, in long array his veffels fhow, Whofe crefts, advancing, do the waves divide. They charge, re-charge, and all along the fea They drive, and fquander the huge Belgian fleet. Berkley alone, who nearest danger lay, Did a like fate with loft Creufa meet. LXVIII. The night comes on, we eager to purfue In th' English fleet each ship resounds with joy, And, flumbering, fmile at the imagin'd flame. Not fo the Holland fleet, who, tir'd and done, LXXI. In dreams they fearful precipices tread, Or, fhipwreck'd, labour to fome diftant fore: Or in dark churches walk among the dead; They wake with horror, and dare fleep no more. *The morn they look on with unwilling eyes, Till, from their main-top, joyful news they hear Of fhips, which by their mould bring new supplies, And in their colours Belgian lions bear. LXXIII. Our watchful General had difcern'd from far, He figh'd, but, like a father of the war, +His face fpake hope, while deep his forrows flow. * Second day's battle. His face, &c.] Spem vultu fimulat, premit alto corde dolorem. Virg. LXXIV. His wounded men he first fends off to fhore, Never, till now, unwilling to obey: They not their wounds, but want of strength deplore, And think them happy, who with him can stay. LXXV. Then, to the reft, Rejoice, faid he, to day; In you the fortune of Great Britain lies: Whom heav'n has chofe to fight for fuch a prize. If number English courages could quell, We fhould at firft have fhunn'd, not met, our foes; Whofe numerous fails the fearful only tell : Courage from hearts, and not from numbers grows. He faid; nor needed more to fay: With hafte Solicit every gale to meet the foe. LXXVIII. Nor did th' encourag'd Belgians long delay, But bold in others, not themfelves, they stood: So thick, our navy fcarce could steer their way, But feem'd to wander in a moving wood. LXXIX. Our little fleet was now engag'd fo far, That, like the fword-fish in the whale, they fought: The combat only feem'd a civil war, Till through their bowels we our paffage wrought. LXXX. Never had valour, no not ours, before, Done aught like this upon the land or main, Than all the conquefts former kings did gain. The mighty ghofts of our great Harries rofe, By which fate promis'd them their Charles fhould rife. Mean time the Belgians tack upon our rear, And raking chafe-guns thro' our fterns they fend: Silent in fmoke of cannon they came on: LXXXIV. Sometimes, from fighting fquadrons of each fleet, Two grapling Etna's on the ocean meet, And English fires with Belgian Aamies contend. Now, at each tack, our little fleet grows lefs; And, like maim'd fowl, fwi.n lagging on the main; Their greater lofs their numbers fearce confefs, While they lofe cheaper than the English gain. LXXXVI. Have you not feen, when, whistled from the fift, Straight flies at check, and clips it down the wind? The daftard crow, that to the wood made wing, Among the Dutch thus Albemarle did fare: Yet pity did his manly fpirit move, To fee thofe perish who fo well had fought; And, generously, with his defpair he strove, Refolv'd to live, till he their fafety wrought. XC. Let other Mufes write his profp'rous fate, Which, like the fun's, more wonders does afford. He drew his mighty frigates all before, On which the foe his fruitlefs force employs : His weak ones deep into his rear he bore, Remote from guns, as fick men from the noife. His fiery cannon did their passage guide, And following smoke obfcur'd them from the foe: |