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Oft, if the Mufe prefage, shall he be seen
By Rosamonda fleeting o'er the green,
In dreams be hail'd by heroes' mighty shades,
And hear old Chaucer warble through the glades:
O'er the fam'd echoing vaults his name shall bound,
And hill to hill reflect the favourite sound.
Here, here at least thy love for arms give o'er,
Nor, one world conquer'd, fondly wish for more.
Vice of great souls alone ! O thirst of fame!
The Mufe admires it, while she strives to blame;
Thy toils be now to chase the bounding deer,
Or view the coursers stretch in wild career ;
This lovely scene shall footh thy soul to rest,
And wear each dreadful image from thy breast;
With pleasure, by thy conquefts shalt thou see
Thy Queen triumphant, and all Europe free;
No cares henceforth Mall thy repose destroy,
But what thou giv'st the world, thyself enjoy.
Sweet solitude ! when life's
hours are pafts
Howe'er we range, in thee we fix at last;
Toss’d through tempestuous seas (the voyage o'er)
Pale we look back, and bless the friendly shore.
Our own strict judges, our past life we fcan,
And ask if glory hath enlarg’d the span ?
If bright the prospect, we the grave defy,
Trust future ages, and contented die.
When strangers from far-distant climes shall comes
To view the pomp of this triumphant dome!
Where rear'd aloft diffembled trophies stand,
And breathing labours of the sculptor's hand,
Where Kneller's art shall paint the flying Gaul,
And Bourbon's woes shall fill the story'd wall;
Heirs of thy blood Mall o'er their bounteous board
Fix Europe's guard, thy monumental sword;
Banners, that oft have wav'd on conquer'd walls,
And trumps, that drown'd the groans of gasping Gauls.
Fair dames Thall oft, with curious eye, explore
The costly robes that slaughter'd gen'rals wore,
Rich trappings from the Danube's whirlpools brought,
(Hesperian nuns the gorgeous broid'ry wrought)
Belts stiff with gold, the Boian horseman's pride,
And Gaul's fair flow'rs, in human crimson dy'd.
of Churchill's race perhaps some lovely boy
Shall mark the burnish'd feel that hangs on high ;
Shall gaze transported on its glitt'ring charms,
And reach it struggling with unequal arms;
By figns the drum's tumultuous found request,
Then seek, in starts, the hushing mother's breast.
So, in the painter's animated frame,
Where Mars embraces the soft Paphian dame,
The little loves in sport the faulchion wield,
Or join their strength to heave his pond'rous fhield;
One strokes the plume in Tityon's gore embru'd,
And one the spear that reeks in Typhon's blood;
Another's infant brows the helm sustain,
He nods his crest, and frights the shrieking train.
Thus, the rude tempeft of the field o'er-blown,
Shall whiter rounds of smiling years roll on :
Our victors, blest in peace, forget their wars,
Enjoy past dangers, and absolve the stars.
But oh! what sorrows shall bedew your urns,
Ye honourd shades, whom widow'd Albion mourns ?
If your thin forms yet discontented moan,
And haunt the mangled manfions once your own;
Behold what flow’rs the pious Muses ftrow,
And tears, which in the midst of triumph flow;
Cypress and bays your envy'd brows surround,
Your names the tender matron's heart shall wound,
And the soft maid grow penfive at the found.
Accept, great Anne, the tears their mem'ry draws
Who nobly perish'd in their sov'reign's cause:
For thou in pity bid'ft the war give o'er,
Mourn'st thy slain heroes, nor wilt venture more.
Vast price of blood on each victorious day!
(But Europe's freedom doth that price repay.)
Lamented triumphs! when one breath must tell
That Marlborough conquer'd, and that Dormer fell.
Great Queen! whose name strikes haughty monarchs
On whose just sceptre hangs Europa's scale ; [pale,
Whose arm like mercy wounds, dec: des like fate,
On whose decree the nations anxiou wait;
"Lieut. Col. Dormer, killed at the head of his squadron, at the battle of Almanza, 14 April 1707,
From Albion's cliffs thy wide-extended hand
Shall o'er the main to far Peru command,
So vaft a tract whose wide domain shall run,
Its circling skies shall see no setting fun.
Thee, thee an hundred languages shall claim,
And savage Indians swear by Anna's name;
The line and poles shall own thy rightful sway,
And thy commands the sever'd globe obey.
Round the vast ball thy new dominions chain
The wat'ry kingdoms, and controul the main ;
Magellan's streights to Gibraltar they join,
Across the feas a formidable line ;
The fight of adverse Gaul we fear no more,
But pleas'd see Dunkirk, now a guiltless Thore.
In vain great Neptune tore the narrow ground,
And meant his waters for Britannia's bound;
Her giant Genius takes a mighty ftride,
And sets his foot beyond th’incroaching tide;
On either bank the land its master knows,
And in the midst the subject ocean flows.
So near proud Rhodes, across the raging flood,
Stupendous form! the vast Colossus ftood:
(While at one foot their thronging gallies ride,
A whole hour's fail scarce reach the farther side)
Betwixt his brazen thighs, in loose array,
Ten thousand streamers on the billows play.
By HARLEY's counsels Dunkirk now restor'd
To Britain's empire, owns her ancient lord.
In him transfus'd his godlike father : reigns,
Ricb in the blood which swell'd that patriot's veins,
Who boldly faithful met his sov'reign's frown,
And scorn’d for gold to yield th' important town.
His fon was born the ravish'd prey to claim,
And France still trembles at an Harley's name.
A fort so dreadful to our English fhore,
Our fleets scarce fear'd the fand's or tempests more ;
Whose vast expences to fuch sums amount,
That the tax'd Gaul scarce furnish'd out th' account:
Whose walls such bulwarks, such vaft tow'rs restrainy,
Its weakest ramparts are the rocks and main ;
His boast great Louis yields, and cheaply buys
Thy friendship, ANNA, with the mighty prize.
Holland repining and in grief cast down,
Sees the new glories of the British crown;
Ah! may they ne'er provoke thee to the fight,
Nor foes more dreadful than the Gauls invite !
Soon may they hold the olive, soon assuage
Their secret murnars, nor call forth thy rage,
To rend their banks, and pour, at one com
ommand, Thy realm the fea o'er their precarious land !
Henceforth be thine, vice-gerent of the skies, Scorn'd worth to raise, and vice in robes chastise ;
$ Sir Edward Marley, father to the Earl of Oxford, had been governor of Dunkirk in the reign of Charles the Ild, a post from which he was removed just before the delivery of that place to Lewis the XIVth, in Abe year 1662