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Eft-ce Apollon et Neptune,
Et par cens bouches horribles
Vomit le fer, & la mort.
Dix mille vaillans Alcides
perçant fon goufre,
Ouvre un fepulchre de soufre,
Namur, devant tes murailles
Neptune and Sol came from above,
Shap'd like Megrigny and Vauban :
Such walls, thefe three wife Gods agreed,
Of gods, as well as men, mistaken.
But ne'er can William's force restrain :
Full fifteen thousand lufty fellows
With fire and fword the fort maintain :
Each was a Hercules, you tell us ;
Yet out they march'd, like common men. Cannons above, and mines below,
Did death and tombs for foes contrive:
Yet matters have been order'd fo,
That most of us are ftill alive.
If Namur be compar'd to Troy ;
Then Britain's boys excell'd the Greeks: Their fiege did ten long years employ;
We 've done our bufinefs in ten weeks. What godhead does so fast advance,
With dreadful power, thofe hills to gain? 'Tis little Will, the scourge of France;
No godhead, but the firft of men.
An ODE, presented to the KING,
On his MAJESTY'S Arrival in HOLLAND, after the QUEEN's Death, 1695.
"Quis defiderio fit pudor aut modus "Tam cari capitis? præcipe lugubres "Cantus, Melpomene."
T Mary's tomb (fad facred place!)
The future pious, mournful fair,
For her the wife and great shall mourn,
Ages to come, and men unborn,
Shall blefs her name, and figh her fate.
Fair Albion fhall, with faithful truft,
But let the king dismiss his woes,
And take the cypress from his brows,
If preft by grief our monarch stoops,
If he, whofe hand fuftain'd them, droops,
Embattled princes wait the chief,
Whofe voice fhould rule, whofe arm fhould lead;
And, in kind murmurs, chide that grief,
Which hinders Europe being freed.
The great example they demand
Who ftill to conquest led the way;
They seek that joy, which us'd to glow,
When the thick fquadrons preft the foe,
To give the mourning nations joy,
Great fun with radiant beams destroy
Those clouds, which keep thee from our fight.
As waters from her fluices, flow'd
But when her anxious lord return'd,
She fmiles, as William ne'er had mourn'd,
That freedom which all forrows claim,
Her piety itself would blame,
If her regrets should weaken thine.
To cure thy woe, fhe fhews thy fame :
William his country's caufe could fight,
Maurice and Henry guard that right,
How heroes rife, how patriots fet,
Thy father's bloom and death may tell :