University of Virginia Library

When first th' unwelcome news to us was known,
The Gallic thunder fell on Portmahon;
As mourns the mother (fond,) her offspring's cries,
Who craves her aid, from threat'ning danger flies,
Marternal doubts, and ardent wishes rise.
So mourn'd each Britain true, Minorca's fate,
Approaching near, and imminently great;
At length, the thund'ring news reach'd Britain's coast,
Our squadron fled, and Portmahon was lost;
Reports came thick, the French prepar'd to land,
And ravage England, with a mighty hand;
Their threat'ning troops, to fancy strong appear'd,
And sighs, and pray'rs, and sad portents were heard!
Gallia, with conquest flush'd! pronounc'd our doom,
And England seem'd involv'd in horrid gloom!
(As children with a bugbear tail are scar'd,
So we, of fleets, and troops, affrighted heard!
E'en like the sun, forth bursting from a cloud,
(With lightning stor'd, and stormy tempest loud;)
To glad the traveller in lonely ways,
And shed around, his sweet all-cheering blaze,
Now Pitt arose, to glad our mournful isle,
Dispell'd the gloom, and made Britannia smile!
The scandal of the nation soon was raz'd,
Th' insulting foe retir'd, transfix'd! amaz'd!
Before his eloquence, black perfidy was chas'd!
He plann'd the war; and practis'd martial schemes;
And waken'd Lewis from his conq'ring dreams.
Now like a lion rousing from his den,
(To meet the dogs, and animating men;)
Who sees his cub lie sprawling on the ground,
Whom hungry dogs, most greedily surround:
He shakes his mane, and from his wrathful eyes,
Indignant fire, in dreadful glances flies;
Horrid he roars; and swings his mighty tail,
For grand revenge, prepares both tooth and nail;
Foaming, he views the lacerated spoil;
(Hunters, and dogs, and horses, back recoil;)
So England rous'd, on fell revenge inclin'd:
'Gainst Maloes, Cherburg, Louisbourg design'd;
As if one soul did ev'ry Briton fire,
All rush to arms, and burn with wrathful ire;
Now o'er the main, our fleets assert our right,
Round Britain's standard, with a stern delight;
Troops throng on troops, and wish the rumour'd fight,
With free-born rage, all animated stand,
At danger spurn, and dare the foe to land:
Wives, children, laws, and liberty's sweet charms,
With threefold ardour ev'ry bosom warms;
Now Watson, Sayer, Barrington arose,
Rous'd in the storm; and crush'd Britannia's foes;
Clive, Marsh, and Mason, Draper, Koppel, Moore,
To Africa, and India, veng'ance bore;
These, with more brave commanders thither sail'd,
With mighty hand, against our foes prevail'd.
Like hurricanes, and earthquakes, forc'd their way,
Made nations bend, and own great George's sway;
Reliev'd Madrass, repair'd its batter'd wall;
Triumphant seiz'd on swarthy Senegal;
Their cannon shook devoted hostile ground,
And scatter'd deaths, 'mongst faithless tribes around;
They stood transfix'd! their vital blood ran cold;
Whilst England's storms, o'er towns, and ramparts roll'd;
Houses, and walls, from their foundations stray'd,
And pil'd in smoaking waste, o'erwhelm'd the blasted dead;
Granada now, St. Martin's, Guadaloup,
Beneath Britannia's might, submissive stoop,
Marigalante, Surat, Chandernagore,
Calcutta trembled, whilst Clive's thunders roar;

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Clive; by whose might, Chandernagore was raz'd,
Before whom twice, the Nabob fled amaz'd;
Clive; whose impetuous war, bore down his foes;
Clive; who made Nabobs; Nabobs could depose;
This adds a lustre to great Brunswick's throne,
His gen'ral does, what conqu'ring Rome has done.
Victorious oft; for battle greatly fam'd;
By Africans, The never to be conquer'd nam'd;
(Tho' with more ships, by thousands better man'd,
Enough to make pale fear itself to stand;)
Thrice fled D'Ache, when dreaded Pocock came,
'Midst English tars, and sheets of British flame.
Now English worthies, on the continent,
Made Indian-French, and savages repent
Their cruel, Black, infernal, scalping rage,
Not daring with our free-born troops to engage;
They fought in fear, or fled in foul disgrace,
As tim'rous deers, when angry lions chase.
Not satiate so, on ampler veng'ance bent,
Against Cape Breton, England's fleet is sent.
Behold, they come; off Louisbourg appear;
Their coming strikes with an amazing fear;
Pale tremor fills French forts, and troops, and towns,
And scalping crews, for angry Britain frowns;
And like Briareus with an hundred hands,
She seiz'd on African, and Indian lands,
And pour'd around, her brave victorious bands,
Onward they roll'd, like an o'erwhelming flood;
And delug'd Gallic lands, in Gallic blood;
The French invasion now, is fear'd no more,
Our troops prepar'd to tread the Gallic shore:
On ev'ry side, their angry blows they dealt,
St. Maloes first, their vengeful fury felt;
(The French flat bottom'd policy repaid,
Heav'n sent the Prussian Hero to their aid.)
There, before Britain's troops, by Marlb'rough led,
On friendly ground, the tim'rous Frenchmen fled,
Whilst under covert of St. Maloe's wall,
Whole fleets of ships, an easy conquest fall.
Six scores their number, (needless are their names,)
A prey, to Britain's dread voracious flames;
As from on high, the tow'ring eagles ken
The serpent's brood, before the female's den;
Downward they souse, and seize the scaly prey,
In griping talons, safely born away.
(They mock the mother's hiss, with gen'rous scorn,
Aloft in air, the venom'd brood is born;
So Howe, and Marlb'rough, jointly sped their way,
And boldly seiz'd upon the Gallic prey;
Greatly resolv'd, the neighb'ring forts they dare,
Whilst hostile wealth evaporates in air;
 

Calcutta, and Chandernagore, were taken by Gen. Clive, the Nabob was twice defeated by him; and Jaffier Ali Cawn made Nabob. The people in that country, gave him a name which in their language signifies The never to be conquer'd.

The Romans would often depose one king, and raise another, General Clive deposed the Nabob, and raised another to that dignity.

A hundred handed giant, as the poets say.