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O that fome Mufe, renown'd for lofty verse,
In daring numbers wou'd thy toils rehearse !
Draw thee belov'd in peace, and fear'd in wars,
Inur'd to noon-day fweats, and mid-night cares!
But ftill the God-like man, by fome hard fate,
Receives the glory of his toils too late;
Too late the verse the mighty ac&t fucceeds,
One age the Hero, one the Poet breeds.
A thousand years
in full fucceffion ran,
Ere Virgil rais'd his voice and fung the man
Who, driv'n by stress of fate, fuch dangers bore
On ftormy feas, and a difaftrous fhore,

Before he fettled in the promis'd earth,
And gave the Empire of the world its birth.
Troy long had found the Grecians bold and fierce,
Ere Homer mustered up their troops in verse;
Long had Achilles quell'd the Trojans' luft,
And laid the labour of the Gods in duft,
Before the tow'ring Muse began her flight,
And drew the Hero raging in the fight,
Engag'd in tented fields, and rolling floods,
Or flaught'ring mortals, or a match for gods.

And here, perhaps, by fate's unerring doom,
Some mighty bard lies hid in years to come,
That shall in WILLIAM'S God-like acts engage,
And with his battles warm a future age,


Hibernian fields fhall here thy conquefts fhow;
And Boyn be fung, when it has ceas'd to flow;
Here Gallic labours thall advance thy faine,
And here Seneffe fhall wear another name.
Our late pofterity with fecret dread,
Shall view thy battles, and with pleasure read
How, in the bloody field, too near advanc'd,
The guiltless bullet on thy fhoulder glanc'd.

The race of NASSAUS was by heav'n defign'd
To curb the proud oppreffors of mankind,
To bind the tyrants of the earth with laws,
And fight in every injur'd nation's caufe,
The world's great patriots; they for juftice call,
And as they favour, kingdoms rife or fall.
Our British youth, unus'd to rough alarms,
Careless of fame, and negligent of arms,
Had long forgot to meditate the foe,
And heard unwarm'd the martial trumpet blow;
But now, infpir'd by thee, with fresh delight,
Their fwords they brandish, and require the fight,
Renew their ancient conquefts on the main,
And act their father's triumphs o'er again;
Fir'd, when they hear how Agincourt was ftrow'd
With Gallic corps, and Creffi fwam in blood,

With eager warmth they fight, ambitious all
Who firft fhall ftorm the breach, or mount the wall.

In vain the thronging enemy by force
Would clear the ramparts and repel their course;
They break through all, for WILLIAM leads the way,
Where fires rage moft, and loudest engines play.
Namure's late terrors and deftruction show,
What WILLIAM, warm'd with juft revenge, can do:
Where once a thousand turrets rais'd on high
Their gilded fpires, and glitter'd in the sky,
An undiftinguish'd heap of duft is found,
And all the pile lies fmoaking on the ground.

His toils for no ignoble ends defign'd,
Promote the common welfare of mankind;
No wild ambition moves, but Europe's fears,
The cries of orphans, and the widow's tears:
Oppreft religion gives the firft alarms,

And injur'd juftice fets him in his arms;
His conquefts freedom to the world afford,

And nations blefs the labours of his fword.

Thus when the forming Mufe would copy forth

A perfect pattern of heroic worth,

She fets a man triumphant in the field,

O'er giants cloven down, and monsters kill'd
Reeking in blood, and smear'd with dust and sweat,
Whilft angry gods confpire to make him great.

Thy navy rides on feas before unpreft,
And ftrikes a terror through the haughty Eaft;


Algiers and Tunis from their fultry fhore
With horror hear the British engines roar,
Fain from the neighb'ring dangers would they run,
And wish thenfelves ftill nearer to the fun.
The Gallic fhips are in their ports confin'd,
Deny'd the common use of sea and wind,
Nor dare again the British strength engage;
Still they remember that deftructive rage
Which lately made their trembling hot retire,
Stunn'd with the noife, and wrapt in smoke and fire;
The waves with wide unnumber'd wrecks were ftrow'd,
And planks, and arms, and men, promifcuous flow'd.
Spain's numerous fleet that perish'd on our coast,
Cou'd scarce a longer line of battle boaft,
The winds cou'd hardly drive 'em to their fate,
And all the ocean labour'd with the weight.

Where-e'er the waves in restless eddies roll,
The fea lies open now to either pole:
Now may we fafely ufe the Northern gales,
And in the Polar Circle spread our fails:
Or deep in Southern climes, fecure from wars,
New lands explore, and fail by other stars:
Fetch uncontroul'd each labour of the fun,
And make the product of the world our own.
At length, proud Prince, ambitious Lewis, cease
To plague mankind, and trouble Europe's peace;
C 4


Think on the ftructures which thy pride has raz'd,
On towns unpeopled, and on fields laid wafte;
Think on the heaps of corps, and ftreams of blood,
On every guilty plain, and purple flood,

Thy arms have made, and ceafe an impious war,
Nor waste the lives intrufted to thy care.

Or if no milder thought can calm thy mind,
Behold the great avenger of mankind,
See mighty NASSAU through the battle ride,
And fee thy fubjects gafping by his fide:
Fain wou'd the pious Prince refufe th' alarm,
Fain wou'd he check the fury of his arm;
But when thy cruelties his thoughts engage,
The Hero kindles with becoming rage,
Then countries ftol'n, and captives unreftor'd,
Give ftrength to ev'ry blow, and edge his fword.
Behold with what refiftlefs force he falls
On towns befieg'd, and thunders at thy walls!
Afk Villeroy, for Villeroy beheld

The town furrender'd, and the treaty feal'd;
With what amazing strength the forts were won,
Whilft the whole pow'r of France ftood looking on.
But ftop not here: behold where Berkley stands,
And executes his injur'd King's commands:
Around thy coaft his bursting bombs he pours
On flaming citadels, and falling tow'rs;

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