 | The Poems of John Philips |  |
13
And now, O CHURCHILL, at thy wisht Approach
The Germans hopeless of Success, forlorn,
With many an Inroad gor'd, their drooping Cheer
New animated rouse; not more rejoice
The miserable Race of Men, that live
Benighted half the Year, benumm'd with Frosts
Perpetual, and rough Boreas keenest Breath,
Under the Polar Bear, inclement Sky,
When first the Sun with New-born Light removes
The long incumbent Gloom; gladly to thee
Heroic Laurel'd Eugene yields the Prime,
Nor thinks it Diminution, to be rankt
In Military Honour next, althô
His deadly Hand shook the Turchestan Throne
Accurs'd, and prov'd in far divided Lands
Victorious; on thy pow'rful Sword alone
Germania, and the Belgic Coast relies,
Won from th'encroaching Sea: That Sword Great ANNE
Fix'd not in vain on thy puissant Side,
When Thee Sh' enroll'd Her Garter'd Knights among,
Illustrating the Noble List; Her Hand
Assures good Omens, and Saint George's worth
Enkindles like Desire of high Exploits.
Immediate Sieges, and the Tire of War
Rowl in thy eager Mind; thy Plumy Crest
Nods horrible, with more terrific Port
Thou walk'st, and seem'st already in the Fight.
The Germans hopeless of Success, forlorn,
With many an Inroad gor'd, their drooping Cheer
New animated rouse; not more rejoice
The miserable Race of Men, that live
Benighted half the Year, benumm'd with Frosts
Perpetual, and rough Boreas keenest Breath,
Under the Polar Bear, inclement Sky,
When first the Sun with New-born Light removes
The long incumbent Gloom; gladly to thee
Heroic Laurel'd Eugene yields the Prime,
Nor thinks it Diminution, to be rankt
In Military Honour next, althô
His deadly Hand shook the Turchestan Throne
Accurs'd, and prov'd in far divided Lands
Victorious; on thy pow'rful Sword alone
Germania, and the Belgic Coast relies,
Won from th'encroaching Sea: That Sword Great ANNE
Fix'd not in vain on thy puissant Side,
When Thee Sh' enroll'd Her Garter'd Knights among,
Illustrating the Noble List; Her Hand
Assures good Omens, and Saint George's worth
Enkindles like Desire of high Exploits.
Immediate Sieges, and the Tire of War
Rowl in thy eager Mind; thy Plumy Crest
Nods horrible, with more terrific Port
Thou walk'st, and seem'st already in the Fight.
What Spoils, what Conquests then did Albion hope
From thy Atchievements! yet thou hast surpast
Her boldest Vows, exceeded what thy Foes
Could fear, or fancy; they, in Multitude
Superior, fed their Thoughts with Prospect vain
Of Victory, and Rapine, reck'ning what
From ransom'd Captives would accrue. Thus One
Jovial his Mate bespoke; O Friend, observe,
How gay with all th'Accoutrements of War
The Britons come, with Gold well fraught they come
Thus far, our Prey, and tempt us to subdue
Their recreant Force; how will their Bodies stript
Enrich the Victors, while the Vultures sate
Their Maws with full Repast! Another, warm'd
With high Ambition, and Conceit of Prowess
Inherent, arrogantly thus presum'd;
What if This Sword, full often drench'd in Blood
Of base Antagonists, with griding Edge
Should now cleave sheer the execrable Head
Of CHURCHILL, met in Arms! or if This Hand
Soon as his Army disarray'd 'gins swerve,
Should stay Him flying, with retentive Gripe,
Confounded, and appal'd! no trivial Price
Should set Him free, nor small should be My Praise
To lead Him shackl'd, and exposed to Scorn
Of gath'ring Crowds the Briton's boasted Chief.
From thy Atchievements! yet thou hast surpast
Her boldest Vows, exceeded what thy Foes
Could fear, or fancy; they, in Multitude
Superior, fed their Thoughts with Prospect vain
Of Victory, and Rapine, reck'ning what
From ransom'd Captives would accrue. Thus One
Jovial his Mate bespoke; O Friend, observe,
How gay with all th'Accoutrements of War
14
Thus far, our Prey, and tempt us to subdue
Their recreant Force; how will their Bodies stript
Enrich the Victors, while the Vultures sate
Their Maws with full Repast! Another, warm'd
With high Ambition, and Conceit of Prowess
Inherent, arrogantly thus presum'd;
What if This Sword, full often drench'd in Blood
Of base Antagonists, with griding Edge
Should now cleave sheer the execrable Head
Of CHURCHILL, met in Arms! or if This Hand
Soon as his Army disarray'd 'gins swerve,
Should stay Him flying, with retentive Gripe,
Confounded, and appal'd! no trivial Price
Should set Him free, nor small should be My Praise
To lead Him shackl'd, and exposed to Scorn
Of gath'ring Crowds the Briton's boasted Chief.
| The Poems of John Philips | |