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Marlborough

or, The Fate of Europe: a poem. Dedicated To the Right Honourable Master Godolphin [by Samuel Wesley]

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DEDICATED To the Right Honourable Master GODOLPHIN.

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MARLBOROUGH,

OR, THE Fate of EUROPE.

Th' Eternal, who the Fates of Empires weighs,
And with Impartial Eyes the World surveys,
Beheld the GALLIC POWER so haughty grown,
It dar'd Rebel, and struggle with his own:
He saw the Monster, swell'd to vast excess,
Great Natures Landmarks, and her own transgress.
One Wing beyond the Snowy Alpes was stretch'd,
O'er Pyrenæan Rocks her other reach'd;
The Volumes of her Dire enormous Train
To Worlds unknown, beyond th'Atlantic Main;
The German Eagle next she wings t'invade,
While Nations shake beneath her deadly Shade.
In vain the Royal Bird his Thunder bears,
Yet oft, tho' struck to Earth, himself he rears;
Wounded and Faint maintains a feeble Fight,
With equal Valour, but inferiour Might;
The Dragons Teeth fierce New-born Armies yield,
An Iron Harvest round the moisten'd Field;
Intestine Foes the Sacred Empire tear,
And in her Bowels urge unnatural War,
Before Vienna's trembling Gates appear,
And something now beyond the Turks they fear.
Germany is no more; the Gauls advance
O'er Captive Isters Streams, and all is France.
The while a Joy, to Madness near ally'd,
Lutetia's Temples rends, and swells her Pride.
The Pagans Sanguine Rites reproach no more,
Or Scythian Altars stain'd with Humane Gore;
When Mis-nam'd Christians dare affront the Skies,
And Myriads heap'd on Myriads sacrifice;

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Rank in their Squadrons, every guiltless Star,
And make them Parties, in their Impious War.
TE DEUMS now are Vulgar Anthems grown,
From Mattins, and from Vespers hardly known;
Those decent Thanks they oft to Heaven renew,
But to their Monarch think far more are due;
Let LEWIS shine, they laugh at those above,
As Father Nile alone is Egypt's Jove.
See where he like the Samian Tyrant reigns,
And Fortune by his Chariot leads in Chains,
The Bounds of Humane Happiness surpass'd
To the Third Heir, he sees his Ill-got Conquests last.
Such was the Face of things, such Europe's State,
When thus the Sovereign Arbiter of Fate.
“Thus far have we th'Oppressors Fall delay'd,
“But here shall his Insulting Waves be stay'd;
Worthy our weightiest Thunder now he grows,
“And now 'tis worthy Heav'n to interpose;
“This Moment, by th'unchangeable Decree,
“The utmost Verge of Prosp'rous Tyranny.
Then, of the Powers that near the Throne attend,
And on the wond'rous Golden Chain depend.
He singles these, first PRUDENCE, Heav'nly-fair
Her Looks unclouded, yet with thoughtful Air.
The next was FORTITUDE; what sprightly Grace,
And Promises of Conquest in her Face!
CELERITY was in Commission join'd,
Whose Wings out-fly the Lightning and the Wind;
Then SECRECY, with modest Glories crown'd,
And rob'd in Clouds, which Heav'n's bright Throne surround.
“Go to the Man, by Us, and our Lov'd Queen design'd
“To humble Gallic Power, and Europe's Chains unbind!
“Go, and with speed, he said, our Final Orders bear,
“His constant Guardians you, and Partners of the War.
They bow'd, and swerving down the steep Descent,
Born on a beautious Lunar Rain-bow went,
And MARLBOROUGH! alighted at thy Tent,
As on Mosella's Streams thy Squadrons lay,
Waiting for Thee, and the Returning Day:
For now the Silent Noon of Night was o'er,
And Phœbus hasten'd to his Eastern Shore;
Thoughtful they found the Chief, his Head reclin'd,
The FATE OF EUROPE lab'ring in his Mind;

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His Friendly Guards, unseen Assistance brought,
Mould the great Scheme, and polish every Thought;
Till with Celestial Vigour in his Eyes,
And wak'd from deep Concern. “It must be thus, he cries;
“This saves our Friends, and breaks th'Increasing Pow'rs
“Of France and Hell combin'd, if Heav'n be ours.
Then calls to Horse, his willing Troops obey,
SPEED march'd before, and level'd all the way;
While SECRECY a Cloud around them drew,
Too thick for subtle Spies or Traitors view.
Such that which o'er God's Fav'rite Army spred,
And safe, thro' Sandy Worlds, and trackless Desarts led.
Dazled at first the Foes before him run,
Like Birds obscene, which cannot bear the Sun;
O'er Ister's Streams, their Leader takes his flight,
And shuns, immers'd in Earth, the conscious Light;
There, meditating Mischief, doom'd to wait
Till France a while prolongs, and shares his Fate.
Once more from Earth, th'Imperial Eagle springs
And prunes his Bolts, and shakes his Moulted Wings;
Tho' slow with Wounds, his Fate is pleas'd to try,
And bravely bid for Death, or Victory:
Nor need the Heav'nly Couriers sent to Guide
The British Chief, unguarded leave his side,
The German Heroes need not press to join,
And share the Glory of the vast Design.
Who first, who next, shall of those Worthies claim
Distinguish'd Honour in the Rolls of Fame?
EUGENE the first, such Faith, such Valour shown,
Adopted Germany's, and all her own;
Whose Arms too well the Gallic Ensigns know,
Oft met by Mincius, and the Royal Poe,
And roll'd in Blood: Nor BADEN's Sword in vain
On Mis-believers drawn, he has his Thousands slain;
With these undaunted HESSE; how young, how brave,
A German-All, he hates the Name of Slave:
Triumphant France his Arms have taught to yield,
And trail'd their Conqu'ring Standards from the Field;
What future Trophies shall our Joys renew!
What Tow'ry Citadels shall he subdue!
More might I sing, in Times fair Leaves enroll'd,
How Prodigal of Life! how largely Soul'd!
Who when the rally'd Foe, with cautious Fear
On Danube's Banks strove to secure their Rear;

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When Art and Nature in their Camp unite,
Forc'd the Strong Pass, and put 'em both to flight;
Earnest of greater Sums, which Fate will pay,
A glorious Morning, to a brighter Day.
See where the French new Hydra Armies send
At once to Ruin, and Assist their Friend;
Till when too weak, he not disdains to try
Base Falshood, and unprincely Treachery;
Virtues he copy'd from his Great Ally.
Pretending Treaty wou'd our Faith abuse,
And where he can't resist our Arms, amuse:
But PRUDENCE, calling Wise DISTRUST to aid
To the Confederate Chief, the Fraud display'd.
So may they join, in Happy Hour, said he,
One Fight will yield a double Victory.
DEVOTION, which had oft a Stranger been
In Camps, nor e'en in Temples always seen,
Drawn by his Great Example and Desire
Returns, and does his Vigorous Troops inspire
With a new Warmth, and more than Martial Fire;
Secure of Fate, they on Success rely,
'Tis equal with 'em now to sleep or die:
They, with their strong Cherubic Guards unite,
And like the Thund'ring Legion, Pray and Fight.
For now the long expected Morn arose
Which show'd the rugged Front of their embattled Foes.
Not eager Lovers, with more Transport see
Long absent Friends, than these their Enemy.
Tho' all they wish'd, the Numbers and the Ground
Were theirs, and Hills, and Woods, and Shades profound:
Without such Odds, we had not fought 'em fair,
Deep Trenches here, and tow'ring Ramparts there;
A Wall of Cannon, which in Fire and Smoak,
Their Masters last (and only) Reason spoke;
Their Flank the Danube fatally secures,
Whose Stream a Foreign Lord ill-pleas'd endures;
Nor this suffic'd, in Front a deep Morass,
Denying all that wanted Wings to pass;
But soon our General's Conduct and his Care
Strong Flying-Bridges threw, and march'd in Air.
When from the Bogs Abyss a Fantome rose,
And did his vast tremendous Form disclose,
His Armour burnish'd Brass; a Shield he wore
Of polish'd Steel, with Lisses powder'd o'er,
Whose drooping Heads surcharg'd with Humane Gore;

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Disdainful was his Air, as when he fell,
He was no Vulgar Potentate in Hell.
“Shall we look on, and no Assistance lend
“Our darling Nation, and our bravest Friend!
“Must then a Woman crush our Rising State!
“O Envy! O Malignity of Fate!
“Can BOURBON fall like feeble AUSTRIA! Can
“A God confess'd submit to less than Man!
“Ye Powers! do two ELIZA's breath in ANNE!
“Shall Partial Heav'n her Arms and Counsels guide,
“And for her General such a Guard provide!
(He saw the shining Warriors by his side.)
“Must Natures self within his Ranks take Pay,
“While pressing on the great decisive Day,
Big with such vast Events!—Bold Mortal, stay!
“Tho' Water, Earth, and Air, I must resign,
“I'll try if all the Elements are thine.
TURENNE, and SCHOMBERG, for a THIRD prepare
“Your Silent Shades! this Moment sees him there.
He said, then to a murd'ring Cannon press'd,
Travers'd the Piece, and points it at his Breast;
One of his Train gives Fire, the Bullet takes its flight,
And drew behind a Trail of deadly Light:
But Glorious MICHAEL, who attends unseen,
Stepp'd in, and threw his Seven-fold Targe between:
'Twas he, for the RED-CROSS adorn'd his Breast,
And the Old Dragons spoils his dreadful Crest;
Dropp'd short the Firey Mesienger of Death,
As with his Journey tired, and out of Breath.
The Fiend blasphem'd, his hopeful Project cross'd,
And thrice renounc'd what long before h' had lost;
Did thence amidst the thickest Ranks retire,
And all with his own desp'rate Rage inspire:
'Twas well his Caitiff-Body was but Air,
Or MARLBOROUGH had found and seiz'd him there.
Who, all things now prepar'd to strike the Blow,
Thus to his English—Soldiers! Here's the Foe!
Like Air, like Fire, like English, swift they ran,
With well-known Shouts, the Bloody Toil began;
Against a Stream of Flame, their Breasts oppose,
And turn th'impetuous Tide against their Foes.
Now fight Philistines, or your Dagon's gone,
The Sacred Ark prevails, and you're undone.
They did, as LEWIS were himself in sight,
As who for Life, and more, for Empire fight;
Forget themselves, and charge, and charge agen,
Nor only in their On-set more than Men;

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Rally'd and rally'd still, tho' bored and broke,
And Death with Death repay'd, and stroke with stroke.
And did we shrink! Cou'd English Troops give way!
Say you who met them! Bold, tho' Conquer'd say!
Press'd by your Numbers, did they seem to fly,
Or halt? Did any leave their Ranks to die?
How decently they fell, unknowing how to yield,
And with what Manly Bodies spred the Field!
What Warrior's there, with Deaths encompass'd round?
It shou'd be CUTTS, but he's without a Wound:
So many a Scar from former Fields he wore,
He now escapes, nor was there room for more:
Thus Stars which in the Galaxy combine
With numerous Rays, yet undistinguish'd shine.
Thee, INGOLDSBY! new Trophies still adorn,
And Colours from the Gallic Center torn.
What Strength cou'd MORDANTS lively force withstand,
What Light'ning in his Eye! What Thunder in his Hand!
Conscious of his High-birth, Great ORKNAY stood,
Wall'd with the Slain, and moated round with Blood,
O Noble NORTH! how dearly didst thou sell
That mighty Hand, which not Inglorious fell!
Falling it grasps thy Sword; it threatens still,
Trembling in Death, and scarce forbears to kill.
Thus were our English Nobles wont to charge;
Thus did our Empire and their Fame enlarge;
Such High Achievements grac'd their pond'rous Shields,
Such Laurels did they reap in Sanguine Fields.
Look down ye Bless'd, O Courcy, Talbot, Vere!
Look down, and own your Genuine Off-spring here!
Glory's too mean a Prize; 'tis false, tho' bright,
But these for LIBERTY, and EUROPE fight:
'Tis fairly thrown, the Gains will quit the Cost;
This Evening sees a World preserv'd or lost.
At distance lab'ring round Great EUGENE see,
And with him the Remains of Germany!
Nor were they unemploy'd; nor wou'd the Foe
Led by BAVARIA, yield without a Blow.
So a fell Wolf, who long uncheck'd has prowl'd,
And scowr'd the Plains, and storm'd the trembling Fold;
If him the Shepherds to his Covert track
And aided by their faithful Dogs attack,
So grins oblique, fierce, tho' encompass'd round
Still fights, and none escape without a Wound:
Thrice charg'd the Prince undaunted, thrice repel'd,
And Victory the Balance tott'ring held.

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Of Troops, Brigades, and Wings the rest take care,
But MARLBOROUGH alone is every where;
As PRUDENCE bids, the various Battle views,
Like Nature, what is lost by Time and Death renews;
Till COURAGE calls, her well-known Voice he hears,
Erect, and greater than himself appears:
With him the English Cavalry advance,
And charge, and mingle with the Flow'r of France.
(Not Clouds with Thunder arm'd more rudely clash,
Or beamy Light'nings brighter Horror flash)
They feel the Odds, their antient Lords they try,
Beneath Superiour Valour bend and ply,
And now had little else to do but die.
CHURCHIL, who like his Brother look'd and fought,
One Army slew, another Captive brought:
And now 'tis done, the mighty Struggle's pass'd,
The braver, juster side prevails at last;
France may be beat, her Iron Reign is o'er,
The Scourge and Terror of the World's no more:
There, LEWIS, all thy blasted Laurels lie,
And there thy UNIVERSAL MONARCHY!
The hoary Warriors boast their Spoils in vain;
Th'Invincibles are broke, th'Immortal Squadron's slain.
Unfortunately brave! no longer blame
Or rob each other of your dear-bought Fame!
Compose your Strife! what Gallic Arms cou'd do
By English press'd, was dar'd and done by you.
Did you not Breast to Breast their Troops oppose,
Did you not long sustain th'unequal Foes!
Rush on their Swords, your certain Fate despise,
Devoted your great Moloch's Sacrifice?
Will then his Orders ne'er admit debate,
And must you conquer e'en in spite of Fate?
Your Nations Genius never soar'd so high:
You can't like English fight, or Romans die.
Let Chronicles to future Worlds recite
The Carnage, and the Reliques of the Fight:
What thousands plung'd in Death their Lives to save,
And sought glad Refuge underneath the Wave:
Sinking, a ghastly Look behind 'em threw,
Lest to the bottom we should them pursue.
Tho' their more Valiant Leader dar'd survive,
And to adorn our Triumphs, deign to live.
What Armies we of Generals lead away,
What Lumber-Captains, and how large a Prey!
Tho' kind Gazettes repair the Loss with ease
And raise new Paper-Squadrons, as they please.

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But why to slow! Why does not LEWIS stamp,
Or with a Nod recruit BAVARIAs Camp?
Must he for Nature's tardy Methods wait?
Th'Immortals in an instant can create:
Nor did his Friend the Shadow Court in vain:
See him affected Regal Honours gain
E'en in his Flight, for thus did France ordain;
Till the next Vacancy Preferment brings,
And ranks him in the College of his Kings.
Let others file the Triumphs that remain;
We glean some Dukes, and a few Towns we gain,
The annual Work of but one long Campaign:
We came, we conquer'd e'en before we saw,
Augsburgh and Ulm, but fought for thee, Landau!
And now for Peace shou'd Europe humbly sue,
And generous France the Treaty deign renew;
Shou'd she the Glory of her Arms deny,
And condescend to part with Germany;
Her Righteous Cause to Rome's bless'd Umpire leave,
Who cannot be deceiv'd, nor can deceive;
What happy Halcyon-days wou'd soon ensue!
How just, how firm th'Alliance, and how true!
Thus, soon may LEWIS move, and thus may those
Who scarce disguis'd, declare for Europe's Foes:
And had their Counsels been pursu'd before,
Our Heroe ne'er had left our English Shore:
The mighty Work had still been uncompleat,
And Heav'n in vain had form'd him Wise and Great.
We merit Chains, if France agen we trust
Who will not, cannot, to his Oaths be just.
His Frowns are manly, but his Smiles are base;
Those fairly kill, these stab with an Embrace.
BAVARIA, COLOGNE, greater Names can say,
How dearly for his Friendship forc'd to pay.
May those be bless'd with such a strong Ally,
Who start at Swords, and wou'd by ling'ring Poisons die!
Let War, entail'd on future Lustres come,
And worse than War protracted, Fewds at home;
So our loud Crimes may not so high ascend,
As to pull down the Curse of having France our Friend!
The Die is cast, and Fortune courts the Brave,
No Medium's left, he must be Lord or Slave.
Too long, Illustrious CHIEF! have we delay'd
The Praise, the Triumphs which can ne'er be pay'd:
We lent thee to th'Allies, but never gave;
Hast thou another GERMANY to save!
At length he leaves the Friendly Belgian Shore,
What Myriads stretch to meet him Half-seas o'er;

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While his lov'd Name their Hearts and Lips employs,
Prevents their Eyes, and antedates their Joys;
Some praise his equal Conduct in the State,
In Council calm, unmov'd by warm Debate;
Above a narrow Faction's mean Design,
True as the Sun to the Meridian Line;
Great in the Court, yet him the Country bless,
Great in the Camp; how rare a Happiness!
Him his glad Native Soil, him Forein Kings caress.
Victorious both in Council and in War,
Nothing's deny'd, where He's th'Embassador;
Some his Dexterity, for Business made;
His Application these, and timely Aid;
Some his Humanity; How easie of Access,
How prone to Aid, and Pity and Redress,
How form'd to Help, how made to Please and Bless.
While others chuse his Laurels fetch'd from far,
Fight o're his Battels and renew the War;
Like the Great Spirit that moves this various Whole,
Is Marlborough his num'rous Armies Soul;
'Tis he informs each Part, his Looks inspire,
With vigorous Wisdom, and with temper'd Fire.
Nothing he leaves to Chance's blind Pretence,
But all is Prudence, all is Providence.
Firm and Intrepid to the last Degree,
Alike from Slowness, and from Rashness free;
The French and German Virtues he unites,
Like one Consults, and like the other Fights.
Above mean Arts of spinning long Campaigns,
Where both may lose, but neither Party gains:
'Twas not for This his English march'd so far,
He came to End, and not to make a War.
The Torrent of his Conquests flows so fast,
Like Waves, the first is bury'd in the last:
When Liege the Deluge of his Arms subdu'd,
Bavaria might his gath'ring Fate have view'd.
One Summer's Isthmus only did repress
The two vast rival Seas of his Success,
While Fate took time to breath—that Instant o're,
The Waters rend away the narrow Shore:
Both Oceans meet, new Hills on Hills are toss'd,
And mingling Waves in friendly Waves are lost.
The Macedonian Youth, whose Arms subdu'd
Soft Persia, and the wild Hydaspes view'd,

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Beyond a mortal Linage strove to rise,
And claim'd ambitious Kindred with the Skies:
But had his Phalanx won such Fame as ours,
And routed Bourbon's and Bavaria's Pow'rs,
For Ammon's Son too Great, he' had soar'd above,
And fill'd the Car of Mars, or Throne of Jove:
Our Conqu'ror saves more than the Greek o're-ran,
Yet bows to Heav'n, and owns himself a Man:
Forbids those Altars we attempt to raise,
At once surmounts both Vanity and Praise.
But Emperors alike, and Poets err,
Who strive to reach his finish'd Character:
The Name of Marlborough such worth proclaims,
Hero and Prince, to That, are vulgar Names:
His Sov'raign's Smiles and Heav'n's alone can pay
What Europe ows him for so Great a Day.
And now her awful Head BRITANNIA rears
On her own Cliffs, an azure Robe she wears,
The Sword and long-contested Trident bears:
While her White-Rocks, the Turrets of her Court
Can scarce th'impatient Gazer's Weight support;
While thither all her Subjects turn their Eyes,
Like Persians when their God prepares to rise;
And Thousands after Thousands crowding ran,
Pleas'd with the Concourse, thus the Nymph began:
“If ever Joy admitted of Excess
“It must be now, for mine is hardly less;
“Already the lov'd Man you wait's in Sight,
“The distant Skies are ting'd with radiant Light;
“The Waves can scarce support the Weight he brings,
“As proud as when they brought you Captive Kings;
“Yet, e're agen his Native Sands are press'd,
“And Earth with his triumphant Footsteps bless'd,
“With Care a Mother's kind Advice attend,
“'Tis BRITAIN speaks, a Mother and a Friend;
“So may you brighter Trophies still obtain,
“Nor Heav'n on favour'd ALBION smile in vain.
“Enough, my Sons, enough of Noise and Strife,
“And Stern Debate, the deadliest Plague of Life!
“Now learn to Love! your Arrows close unite,
“Unbroke and firm, as your own Ranks in fight.
“My Senates will, I know they will, combine
“To frustrate tott'ring France's last Design;

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“If those agree she doubly must despair,
“If not, we lose at Home our Gains in War;
Contend they may, and warmly will debate
“Which most shall Guard, and most adorn the State:
“Their only Strife, their only grand Contest,
“Which loves their Sovereign and their Country best;
“How weighty falls the Curse on those, whose Pride
“Or Interest wou'd those sacred Names divide?
“Why shou'd they clash who equal Good intend,
“Or differ in the Methods more than End?
“Preserve, my Sons, those Barriers Heav'n has made!
“Let none my antient Land-marks dare invade!
Unenvious to yourselves your Bliss possess,
“And be for once Content with Happiness!
“Look round the spatious Globe and find a Spot,
“Like that which bounteous Heav'n has made your Lot!
“War, Fire, and Rapine scow'r all Europe's Plains;
Here, thron'd in Blood, a moody Tyrant reigns,
“Who when his wasted Treasure wants Supplies,
Preaches against the Sin of Avarice;
“Weak Councils, and contending Interest, There,
“With much of Pain, Expence, Intrigues and Care,
“Nourish Eternal Seeds of Strife and War;
“While Sacred ANNA in my Albion reigns,
“Whose equal Hand my Sword and Heav'n's sustains;
“See her the bright capacious Balance hold,
“Like that which shines above, and flames with heav'nly Gold!
“In vain the Gaul his antient Arts has shown,
“And in the Scale his pond'rous Sword has thrown;
“Her temper'd Blade to th'adverse Scale apply'd,
His mounts in Air, and feels the juster Side;
“Nor will she Sheath it, to the Hilts embrew'd,
“And drunk with hostile Blood, till France and Vice subdu'd;
“Yet Calm as those above, if ought they know,
“Ought that concerns their militant Friends below,
“When Tyrants here subdu'd, or Monsters slain,
“A sober Joy shoots round th'Etherial Plain;
“Never elate with Good, with Ills depress'd,
“Nor Storms, nor Sun, disturb her Halcyon-Breast.
“How firmly Wise! How Great, in easie State!
“What Goodness does Majestick Power rebate!
Strong, as Hyperion shoots his Golden Light,
“Yet mild, her Rays, as Cynthia's, and as bright.
“Her Soul, like the Superior Orbs, Serene,
“Which know not what a Cloud or Tempests mean,

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“Tho' pointed Flames are by their Influence hurl'd,
“And their unerring Thunders awe the subject World.
“Her Arms beyond Herculean Columns known,
“And antient Calpe's Walls her Empire own.
“Resound the Libyan, and the Celtic Shore
“Her Conqu'ring Sailors shout, her Canons dreadful Roar.
“If distant Regions taste her friendly Care,
“How bless'd who her Maternal Goodness share!
“While Peace and Justice she at Home maintains,
“And in her Subjects Hearts unrival'd reigns.
“Whom has She not oblig'd! How wretched those
“Who are their own, and Hers, and Virtue's Foes!
Eliza might have learnt from Her to please,
“Herself she Taxes for her Peoples ease.
“What Altars by her generous Hand supply'd,
“Whose Flames have dimly roll'd, whose Fires had dy'd,
“Shall shine with Incense which her Bounty threw,
“And constant Intercourse with Heav'n renew;
“From thence a large Return of Blessings gain,
“Nor have her grateful Offerings blaz'd in vain;
“The Vested Priests the cheerful Flame surround,
Deserted Domes are throng'd, and Altars crown'd;
“For Her their Vows, for Her their Victims bleed;
“Long, long may She herself, herself succeed!
“Long, e're from Life and her lov'd Prince she part!
“'Tis less to share a Crown than share her Heart.
She said, and now the smiling Surges bore
Her best-lov'd Son safe to her Oazy Shore,
Who from th'expecting Crowd with speed withdrew,
And shunn'd the Triumphs which his Steps pursue.
BRITANNIA gaz'd intemp'rate on his Face;
He saw, and bow'd, and ran to her Embrace;
But what they said, a Mortal strives in vain,
('Tis pass'd the Pow'r of Numbers) to explain;
Such was the moving Scene, if not the same,
When Love, and his Illustrious Consort came,
Th'unrival'd Sharer of his Heart and Fame.
Blow soft, ye gentle Winds, let Storms retire!
Ye gentle Winds, Ambrosial Sweets respire,
Soft as chast Lovers sighs! Let Nature bring
Th'inverted Year, and raise a second Spring.
On Forein Shores let War and Winter rest,
Our Happy Isle, of Marlborough possess'd,
With Peace, and with Eternal Verdure bless'd.
FINIS.