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Amidft confufion, horror, and defpair, boy HAS
Examin'd all the dreadful fcenes of war
In peaceful thought the field of death furvey d
To fainting fquadrons fent the timely aid,

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Infpir'd repuls d battalions to engage,?
And taught the doubtful battle where to rage 11
So when an angel by divine command
With rifing tempefts thakes a guilty land,
Such as of latevoler pale Britannia pafs'd,
Calm and ferene he drives the furious blaft;
And, pleas'd th' Almighty's orders to perform,
Rides in the whirlwind, and directs the florm.

But fee the haughty household troops advance!
The dread of Europe, and the pride of France,
The
And with a general's love of conqueft glows;
war's whole art each private foldier knows,
Proudly he marches on, and void of fear
Laughs at the fhaking of the British fpear:
Vain infolence! with native freedom brave,
The meanest Briton fcorns the highest flave;
Contempt and fury fire their fouls by turns,
Each nation's glory in each warrior burns;
Each fights, as in his arm th' important day
And all the fate of his great monarch lay';
A thousand glorious actions that might claim
Triumphant laurels, and immortal fame,
Confus'd in crowds of glorious actions lie,
And troops of heroes undiflinguifh'd die.
O Dormer, how can I behold thy fate,
And not the wonders of thy youth relate!
How can feathe gay, the brave, the young,
Fall in the cloud of war, and lie unfung!
In joys of conqueft he refigns his breath,
And, fill'd with England's glory, fmiles in death.
The rout begins, the Gallic fquadrons run,
Compell'd in crowds to meet the fate they fhun;
Thousands of fiery fteeds with wounds transfix'd,
Floating in gore, with their dead masters mix'd.

'Mida

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Midft heaps of fpears and standards driven around
Lie in the Danube's bloody, whirlpools drown'd.
Troops of bold youths, born on the diftant Soane,
Or founding borders of the rapid Rhone,
Or where the Seine her flow'ry fields divides,
Or where the Loire thro' winding vineyards glides,
In heaps the rolling billows fweep away,
And into Scythian feas their bloated corpse convey.
From Blenheim's tow'rs the Gaul, with wild affright,
Beholds the various havoc of the fight;

His waving banners, that fo oft had flood

Planted in fields of death and ftreams of blood, not
So wont the guarded enemy to reach,
And rife triumphant in the fatal breach,
Or pierce the broken folds remoteft lines,
The hardy veteran with tears refigns.

Unfortunate Tallard! Oh, who can name
The pangs of rage, of forrow, and of shame,
That with mix'd tumult in thy bosom swell'd,
When firft thou faw'fl thy braveft troops repell❜d,
Thine only fon pierc'd with a deadly wound,
Chok'd in his blood, and gafping on the ground;
Thy felf in bondage by the victor kept!
The chief, the father, and the captive, wept.
An English Mufe is touch'd with generous woe,
And in th' unhappy man forgets the foe.
Greatly diftrefs'd! thy loud complaints forbear,
Blame not the turns of fate, and chance of war;
Give thy brave foes their due, nor blush to own
The fatal field by fuch great leaders won,
The field whence fam'd Eugenio bore away
Only the fecond honours of the day.

With floods of gore that from the vanquish'd feil
The marshes ftagnate, and the rivers fwell..
Mountains of flain lie heap'd upon the ground, 01.06
Or 'midst the roaring of the Danube drown'd: 201

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Whole

Whole captive hofts the conqueror detains
In painful bondage, and inglorious chains;
Ev'n thofe who cape the fetters and the fword,
Nor feck the fortunes of a happier lord,
Their raging King difhonours, to complete
Marlborough's great work, and finish the defeat.

From Memminghen's high domes, and Augfburg's walls,
The dillant battle drives th'infulting Gauls;
Freed by the terror of the victor's name,
The refcued ftates his great protection claim;
Whilft Ulme th'approach of her deliverer waits,
And longs to open her obfequious gates.

The hero's breaft ftill fwells with great defigns,
In ev'ry thought the tow ring genius fhines:
If to the foe his dreadful courfe he bends.
O'er the wide continent his march extends;
If fieges in his labouring thoughts are form'd,
Camps are affaulted, and an army ftorm'd
If to the fight his active foul is bent,
The fate of Europe turns on its event.
What diftant land, what region can afford
An action worthy his victorious fword,?
Where will he next the flying Gaul defeat,
To make the feries of his toils complete ?

Where the fwoln Rhine, rufhing with all its force
Divides the hoftile nations in its courfe.
While each contracts its bounds, or wider grows,
Enlarg'd or fraiten'd as the river flows,
On Gallia's fide a mighty bulwark stands,
That all the wide-extended plain commands;
Twice, fince the war was kindled, has it tried
The victor's rage, and twice has chang❜d its fide;
As oft whole armies, with the prize o'erjoy'd,
Have the long fummer on its walls employ'd.
Hither our mighty chief his arms directs,
Hence future triumphs from the war expects;

And

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And though the dog-ftar had its courfe begun.
Carries his arms fill nearer to the fun :
Fix'd on the glorious action, he forgets
The change of feafons; and increase of heats ;
No toils are painful that can danger shew,

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No climes unlovely that contain a foe, Dua munkaotani

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The loving Gaul, by his own bounds refrain'd,
Learns to encamp within his native land;

But, foon as the victorious hoft he fpies,
From hill to hill, from fream to ftream he flies;
Such dire impreffions in his heart remain

Of Marlborough's fword, and Hochflet's fatal plain:
In vain Britannia's mighty chief befets
Their fhady coverts, and obfcure retreats;
They fly the conqueror's approaching fame,
That bears the force of armies in his

name,

से

Auftria's young monarch, whofe imperial fway
Sceptres and thrones are deflin'd to obey,
Whofe boafted ancestry so high extends
That in the Pagan gods his lineage ends,
Come from afar, in gratitude to own
The great fupporter of his father's throne:
What tides of glory to his bofom ran,
Clafp'd in th' embraces of the godlike man!
How were his eyes with pleafing wonder fix'd
To fee fuch fire with fo much fweetnefs mix'd,..
Such eafy greatnefs, fuch a graceful port,
So turn'd and finish'd for the camp or court!

Achilles thus was form'd with ev'ry grace,
And Nireus fhone but in the fecond place;
Thus the great father of almighty Rome
(Divinely flufh'd with an immortal bloom
That Cytherea's fragrant breath beflow'dj
In all the charms of his bright mother glow'd,
The royal youth, by Marlborough's prefence charm'd,
Taught by his counfels, by his actions warm'd,

On

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On Landau with redoubled fury falls,
Difcharges all his thunder on its walls;
O'er mines and caves of death provokes the fight,
And learns to conquer in the hero's fight.

The British chief, for mighty toils renown'd,
Increas'd in titles and with conquefts crown'd,
To Belgian coafts his tedious march renews,
And the long windings of the Rhine purfues,
Clearing its borders from ufurping foes,
And blefs'd by refcued nations as he goes.
Treves fears no more, freed from its dire alarms ;
And Traerbach feels the terror of his arms :
Seated on rocks her proud foundations fhake,
While Marlborough preffes to the bold attack.
Plants all his batt'ries, bids his cannon roar,
And fhews how Landau might have fallen before,
Scar'd at his near approach, great Louis fears
Vengeance referv'd for his declining years,
Forgets his thirt of univerfal fway,

And fcarce can teach his fubjects to obey;
His arms he finds on vain attempts employ'd,
Th'ambitious projects for his race deftroy'd,
The works of ages funk in one campaign,
And lives of millions facrific'd in vain.

Such are th' effects of Anna's royal cause.
By her, Britannia, great in foreign wars,
Ranges thro' nations, where foe'er disjoin'd,
Without the wonted aid of fea and wind.
By her th' unfetter'd Ifter's ftates are free,
And tafte the fweets of English liberty:
But who can tell the joys of thofe that lie
Beneath the conftant influence of her eye!
Whilft in diffufive fhow'rs her bounties fall
Like Heaven's indulgence, that defcend on all,
Secure the happy, fuccour the diftreft,

Make ev'ry fubject glad, and a whole people bleft.

Thus would I fain Britannia's wars rehearse,

In the fmooth records of a faithful verfe;

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