Eliza An Epick poem. In Ten books. By Sir Richard Blackmore Rivers &c |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. | BOOK X. |
 | Eliza |  |
273
BOOK X.
Mean time great Vere, impatient of Delay,
Approach'd the Camp, where Albert's Forces lay;
And gave the Word for Fight th'ensuing Day.
The Chief retir'd, with rapt'rous Ardor pray'd
For Heav'n's high Favour, and propitious Aid.
He to the Throne of Grace Divine apply'd,
And on Almighty Strength for Victory rely'd.
Right and Religion (bless'd Cœlestial Pair!)
He recommends to God's peculiar Care,
And humbly does to Heav'n, the Cause of Heav'n refer.
Approach'd the Camp, where Albert's Forces lay;
And gave the Word for Fight th'ensuing Day.
The Chief retir'd, with rapt'rous Ardor pray'd
For Heav'n's high Favour, and propitious Aid.
He to the Throne of Grace Divine apply'd,
And on Almighty Strength for Victory rely'd.
Right and Religion (bless'd Cœlestial Pair!)
He recommends to God's peculiar Care,
And humbly does to Heav'n, the Cause of Heav'n refer.
Few Hours upon his Bed the Hero lay,
To gain new Vigor for returning Day.
His Senses bound by Slumber's secret Chain,
Of Images, a Visionary Train
Engag'd his Spirits, and employ'd his Brain.
The Hero, so he thought, with wond'ring Eyes,
Saw a bright Scene descending from the Skies;
Which by degrees sunk thro' th'Ætherial Way,
And did three Heav'nly Forms at length display.
Edward, in Robes of Majesty array'd,
Who with Renown Britannia's Scepter sway'd;
Edward, the Royal Child, the Pious Saint,
Who pure Religion did in Albion plant.
In a fair Cloud of thicken'd Æther sate,
Adorn'd with Ensigns of Imperial State.
He did a Crown around his Temples wear;
One Hand a Globe, one did a Scepter bear.
On one side near ally'd in noble Blood
To the Young Monarch, in a shining Cloud
Seimour, Britannia's great Protector stood.
Cranmer the third bless'd Image did appear,
Cranmer to Edward, and to Albion dear.
Whose early Care embu'd the Royal Youth,
With Piety Divine, and Heav'nly Truth.
Who, thro' the Isle diffus'd Cœlestial Light,
Dispell'd Infernal Fogs, and Roman Night.
Long Rev'rend Garments white as Snow, he wore
This Hand a Bible, that a Crosier bore.
His Martyr's Crown did dazling Beams display,
A Crown of Light condens'd, and solid, pond'rous Day.
To gain new Vigor for returning Day.
His Senses bound by Slumber's secret Chain,
Of Images, a Visionary Train
Engag'd his Spirits, and employ'd his Brain.
The Hero, so he thought, with wond'ring Eyes,
Saw a bright Scene descending from the Skies;
Which by degrees sunk thro' th'Ætherial Way,
And did three Heav'nly Forms at length display.
274
Who with Renown Britannia's Scepter sway'd;
Edward, the Royal Child, the Pious Saint,
Who pure Religion did in Albion plant.
In a fair Cloud of thicken'd Æther sate,
Adorn'd with Ensigns of Imperial State.
He did a Crown around his Temples wear;
One Hand a Globe, one did a Scepter bear.
On one side near ally'd in noble Blood
To the Young Monarch, in a shining Cloud
Seimour, Britannia's great Protector stood.
Cranmer the third bless'd Image did appear,
Cranmer to Edward, and to Albion dear.
Whose early Care embu'd the Royal Youth,
With Piety Divine, and Heav'nly Truth.
Who, thro' the Isle diffus'd Cœlestial Light,
Dispell'd Infernal Fogs, and Roman Night.
Long Rev'rend Garments white as Snow, he wore
This Hand a Bible, that a Crosier bore.
His Martyr's Crown did dazling Beams display,
A Crown of Light condens'd, and solid, pond'rous Day.
Thus did the Royal Youth the Chief bespeak;
Your Sword, to your Immortal Fame, shall break
The Yoke, brave Briton, whose oppressive Weight
Has gall'd and griev'd so long the Belgick State.
Success and Conquest shall those Arms attend,
Which Faith Reform'd and Liberty defend,
And thro' th'applauding World Eliza's Name extend.
For her, the Glory is reserv'd to quell
The great Oppressor, and the Storm dispel,
Whose black, collected Terrors have so long
O'er Europe's trembling Kingdoms threatning hung.
She shall a wond'rous Course of Glory run,
And with Renown compleat, what I begun.
She publick Right, she pure Religion's Cause
Shall vindicate, with Europe's loud Applause.
Move thy auspicious Ensigns, Valiant Vere,
Let the proud Foe Eliza's Thunder hear.
Go, with thy vig'rous and victorious Troops
Extinguish Rome's and proud Iberia's Hopes.
Favour'd by Heav'n, go in thy War-like Might,
Lead forth Eliza's Host to glorious Fight.
Advance, and in propitious Heav'n confide,
Thy Arms, 'tis so decreed, shall sink Iberia's Pride.
He said. The shining Forms did upwards move,
These Regions left, for those of Bliss above.
Illustrious Vere awak'ning, did with Joy
On the well-boding Dream his Thoughts employ.
Your Sword, to your Immortal Fame, shall break
The Yoke, brave Briton, whose oppressive Weight
Has gall'd and griev'd so long the Belgick State.
Success and Conquest shall those Arms attend,
Which Faith Reform'd and Liberty defend,
And thro' th'applauding World Eliza's Name extend.
275
The great Oppressor, and the Storm dispel,
Whose black, collected Terrors have so long
O'er Europe's trembling Kingdoms threatning hung.
She shall a wond'rous Course of Glory run,
And with Renown compleat, what I begun.
She publick Right, she pure Religion's Cause
Shall vindicate, with Europe's loud Applause.
Move thy auspicious Ensigns, Valiant Vere,
Let the proud Foe Eliza's Thunder hear.
Go, with thy vig'rous and victorious Troops
Extinguish Rome's and proud Iberia's Hopes.
Favour'd by Heav'n, go in thy War-like Might,
Lead forth Eliza's Host to glorious Fight.
Advance, and in propitious Heav'n confide,
Thy Arms, 'tis so decreed, shall sink Iberia's Pride.
He said. The shining Forms did upwards move,
These Regions left, for those of Bliss above.
Illustrious Vere awak'ning, did with Joy
On the well-boding Dream his Thoughts employ.
The Sun prevailing o'er the vanquish'd Night,
Rais'd his fair Orb, but shone with paler Light;
As troubled for the Ruin to ensue,
The bloody Labour, which he soon must view.
Intrepid Vere rose with that rising Sun,
He had his Course of Glory too to run.
But Vere arose with a more cheerful Air,
A happy Presage of successful War.
With Noble Ardor, and Heroick Fire,
He did his Courser and his Arms require.
The Valiant Chief in Steel illustrious clad,
Eager Iberia's Cohorts to invade,
Mounted his gen'rous Beast with Martial Mien,
Bright as the Noon, and as the Morn serene.
Proudly the Steed did the great Warrior bear,
He praunc'd, and whiten'd with his Foam, the Air,
Pleas'd with the Pomp of Arms, and the stern Face of War.
Britannia's Glory Vere, his Courser spur'd,
Brandish'd in Air his bright victorious Sword;
The Army follows, as he gave the Word.
His Troops obedient march, and ask the Fight,
While Drums and Trumpets Martial Fire excite.
Ensigns and Standards flowing in the Air,
Denounce decisive Wrath, and bloody Toil declare.
Great Vere, the Terror and the Pride of Arms,
Advanc'd in all his Military Charms.
In his warm Veins he felt his Courage rise,
And his own Ardor brighten'd in his Eyes.
Dreadful his Mien, and noble was his Air,
His Aspect such as Warring Seraphs wear.
Majestick Rage the Hero's Look possess'd,
Peculiar to the Great, and not to be express'd.
Rais'd his fair Orb, but shone with paler Light;
As troubled for the Ruin to ensue,
The bloody Labour, which he soon must view.
Intrepid Vere rose with that rising Sun,
He had his Course of Glory too to run.
But Vere arose with a more cheerful Air,
A happy Presage of successful War.
276
He did his Courser and his Arms require.
The Valiant Chief in Steel illustrious clad,
Eager Iberia's Cohorts to invade,
Mounted his gen'rous Beast with Martial Mien,
Bright as the Noon, and as the Morn serene.
Proudly the Steed did the great Warrior bear,
He praunc'd, and whiten'd with his Foam, the Air,
Pleas'd with the Pomp of Arms, and the stern Face of War.
Britannia's Glory Vere, his Courser spur'd,
Brandish'd in Air his bright victorious Sword;
The Army follows, as he gave the Word.
His Troops obedient march, and ask the Fight,
While Drums and Trumpets Martial Fire excite.
Ensigns and Standards flowing in the Air,
Denounce decisive Wrath, and bloody Toil declare.
Great Vere, the Terror and the Pride of Arms,
Advanc'd in all his Military Charms.
In his warm Veins he felt his Courage rise,
And his own Ardor brighten'd in his Eyes.
Dreadful his Mien, and noble was his Air,
His Aspect such as Warring Seraphs wear.
Majestick Rage the Hero's Look possess'd,
Peculiar to the Great, and not to be express'd.
As the brave Britons march'd to bloody Fight,
A sudden Prodigy surpriz'd their Sight.
Calm was the Morning, and the Sky serene,
When they with Wonder saw th'advancing Scene.
Two gloomy Clouds ascended in the Air,
Their low'ring Brows did Hostile Aspects wear.
One from the North, one from the Southern Skies,
With equal Wrath did menacing arise.
The Clouds advanc'd, and over Legia's Flood,
With adverse Fronts denouncing Combate stood.
Deep their distended Bellies hung in Air,
Pregnant with Ruin, and included War:
Between their Fronts, but narrow Space did lie
Of Air unclouded, and of open Sky.
A sudden Prodigy surpriz'd their Sight.
Calm was the Morning, and the Sky serene,
When they with Wonder saw th'advancing Scene.
277
Their low'ring Brows did Hostile Aspects wear.
One from the North, one from the Southern Skies,
With equal Wrath did menacing arise.
The Clouds advanc'd, and over Legia's Flood,
With adverse Fronts denouncing Combate stood.
Deep their distended Bellies hung in Air,
Pregnant with Ruin, and included War:
Between their Fronts, but narrow Space did lie
Of Air unclouded, and of open Sky.
While Vere on this portentous Scene intent,
Survey'd the Heav'ns, and waited the Event:
Th'impending Cloud which mounted from the North,
Open'd, and let two mighty Lions forth.
Friends they appear'd, preparing to engage
Some Foe of Strength, and worthy of their Rage.
Each lash'd his Side, each shook his shaggy Main,
Preluding to a terrible Campaign.
In Hostile Wrath they did expand their Jaws,
And for destructive Fight prepar'd their fearful Paws.
Survey'd the Heav'ns, and waited the Event:
Th'impending Cloud which mounted from the North,
Open'd, and let two mighty Lions forth.
Friends they appear'd, preparing to engage
Some Foe of Strength, and worthy of their Rage.
Each lash'd his Side, each shook his shaggy Main,
Preluding to a terrible Campaign.
In Hostile Wrath they did expand their Jaws,
And for destructive Fight prepar'd their fearful Paws.
Whilst from the adverse Cloud in Fire and Smoke,
Dreadful to see, a hideous Monster broke.
The Terror had the Neck, and Head, and Eyes
Of an old Dragon of prodigious Size.
His horrid Mouth o'er-flow'd with Blood and Gore,
And on his Head a treble Crown he wore.
Unnumber'd raging Snakes his Temples crown'd,
Which hiss'd, and loathsome Poison cast around.
His Breast and Back were of the Wolfish Kind,
And a fierce Tyger form'd the Parts behind.
The yellow Warriors urg'd with gen'rous Rage,
Flew thro' the Sky, the Monster to engage.
Dire Fight ensu'd, Wounds and portentous Spoil,
And ruful Conflict did the Air embroil.
A while the monst'rous, complicated Beast,
Sustain'd the Foes, which fiercely on him prest.
At length with Wounds and bloody Labour worn,
He fainted, sunk, and was in pieces torn.
His mangled Limbs, his Snakes, and flowing Blood,
Amazing Ruin! fell on Legia's Flood,
Which seem'd, prodigious Prospect! to distain
The wond'ring River, and its Tide detain.
The conqu'ring Lions thus appeas'd their Rage,
Vanish'd in Air, and left the Tragick Stage.
The Clouds disperss'd, the Heav'ns became serene,
No part remaining of the airy Scene.
Dreadful to see, a hideous Monster broke.
The Terror had the Neck, and Head, and Eyes
Of an old Dragon of prodigious Size.
His horrid Mouth o'er-flow'd with Blood and Gore,
And on his Head a treble Crown he wore.
Unnumber'd raging Snakes his Temples crown'd,
Which hiss'd, and loathsome Poison cast around.
278
And a fierce Tyger form'd the Parts behind.
The yellow Warriors urg'd with gen'rous Rage,
Flew thro' the Sky, the Monster to engage.
Dire Fight ensu'd, Wounds and portentous Spoil,
And ruful Conflict did the Air embroil.
A while the monst'rous, complicated Beast,
Sustain'd the Foes, which fiercely on him prest.
At length with Wounds and bloody Labour worn,
He fainted, sunk, and was in pieces torn.
His mangled Limbs, his Snakes, and flowing Blood,
Amazing Ruin! fell on Legia's Flood,
Which seem'd, prodigious Prospect! to distain
The wond'ring River, and its Tide detain.
The conqu'ring Lions thus appeas'd their Rage,
Vanish'd in Air, and left the Tragick Stage.
The Clouds disperss'd, the Heav'ns became serene,
No part remaining of the airy Scene.
The Prodigy did to attentive Vere,
And to his Host, as boding Good, appear.
That, as the conqu'ring Lions did predict,
Britain's and Belgia's Force should Spain afflict.
This did expand their Fire, their Zeal excite,
And made it painful to abstain from Fight.
As when strong Winds blow from the Sun-burnt Shore
Of ancient Carthage, or the tawny Moor:
The swelling Surges of the Tuscan Sea
Begin to rage, and watry Strife display.
Th'embattel'd Waves long liquid Wings extend,
And to Ausonia's Coast their threat'ning Terrors bend.
So did the British Tempest take its Course,
So to the Spaniard bend its dreadful Course.
And to his Host, as boding Good, appear.
That, as the conqu'ring Lions did predict,
Britain's and Belgia's Force should Spain afflict.
This did expand their Fire, their Zeal excite,
And made it painful to abstain from Fight.
As when strong Winds blow from the Sun-burnt Shore
Of ancient Carthage, or the tawny Moor:
The swelling Surges of the Tuscan Sea
Begin to rage, and watry Strife display.
279
And to Ausonia's Coast their threat'ning Terrors bend.
So did the British Tempest take its Course,
So to the Spaniard bend its dreadful Course.
Now Spain's and Albion's Hosts appear'd in Sight,
And Vere dispos'd his valiant Troops for Fight.
The Spaniard stood in terrible Array,
And Regimented Deaths their Horrors did display.
Gloomy and deep was each embattel'd Throng,
The awful Front unmeasurably long.
A Rivulet between the Armies ran,
Which Albert hop'd, would stop the Briton's Van.
Hither in Arms advanc'd intrepid Vere,
And brandish'd in the Air his trembling Spear:
Soon as th'Iberians did the Weapon view,
They the Contagion took, and trembled too.
Albert from Cannon planted in the Van,
To stop th'invading Foe, the Fight began.
To make the Britons from the Stream retire,
They from their Batt'ries sent prodigious Fire.
The Briton's Cannon equal Fire return'd,
And all the Air with flaming Conflict burn'd.
As when near Java's, or Borneo's Isle,
Conscious, O Albion! of thy Merchant's Toil;
Beneath the sultry, Equinoctial Line,
Where the Chinese and Indian Ocean join;
Two low'ring Tempests in th'Horizon rise,
And with their Fronts oppos'd, ascend the Skies;
The angry Clouds extended in the Air,
Defiance frown, and menace horrid War.
With Claps of Thunder they declare the Fight,
And flourish Flames the Conflict to invite.
So did the Hosts, stretch'd to a vast Extent,
A dreadful Front on either side present.
A hundred brazen Mouths in Smoke and Flame
Eject loud Deaths, and growing War proclaim.
As Vere advanc'd, his Thunder led the Van,
Black Clouds and Storms of Fire before him ran.
From Host to Host destructive Bullets pass,
Shot from their bellowing Cylinders of Brass:
Artful Volcanos, which with dreadful Roar
From their deep Wombs discharge the fatal Oar.
Sulphur and Nitre fir'd distract the Skies,
And to and fro, Vesuvian Terror flies.
In Cloud and ruddy Flame from side to side
Destruction did in horrid Triumph ride.
And Vere dispos'd his valiant Troops for Fight.
The Spaniard stood in terrible Array,
And Regimented Deaths their Horrors did display.
Gloomy and deep was each embattel'd Throng,
The awful Front unmeasurably long.
A Rivulet between the Armies ran,
Which Albert hop'd, would stop the Briton's Van.
Hither in Arms advanc'd intrepid Vere,
And brandish'd in the Air his trembling Spear:
Soon as th'Iberians did the Weapon view,
They the Contagion took, and trembled too.
Albert from Cannon planted in the Van,
To stop th'invading Foe, the Fight began.
To make the Britons from the Stream retire,
They from their Batt'ries sent prodigious Fire.
The Briton's Cannon equal Fire return'd,
And all the Air with flaming Conflict burn'd.
As when near Java's, or Borneo's Isle,
Conscious, O Albion! of thy Merchant's Toil;
Beneath the sultry, Equinoctial Line,
Where the Chinese and Indian Ocean join;
Two low'ring Tempests in th'Horizon rise,
And with their Fronts oppos'd, ascend the Skies;
280
Defiance frown, and menace horrid War.
With Claps of Thunder they declare the Fight,
And flourish Flames the Conflict to invite.
So did the Hosts, stretch'd to a vast Extent,
A dreadful Front on either side present.
A hundred brazen Mouths in Smoke and Flame
Eject loud Deaths, and growing War proclaim.
As Vere advanc'd, his Thunder led the Van,
Black Clouds and Storms of Fire before him ran.
From Host to Host destructive Bullets pass,
Shot from their bellowing Cylinders of Brass:
Artful Volcanos, which with dreadful Roar
From their deep Wombs discharge the fatal Oar.
Sulphur and Nitre fir'd distract the Skies,
And to and fro, Vesuvian Terror flies.
In Cloud and ruddy Flame from side to side
Destruction did in horrid Triumph ride.
As Vere advanc'd to ford th'opposing Stream,
A pond'rous Ball that from a Cannon came,
Beneath his Courser's Belly graz'd, and threw,
The Glebe on high, which round the Gen'ral flew:
Th'affrighted Britons trembling stood, and fear'd
The heap of Earth their Leader had interr'd.
But when his Cohorts saw intrepid Vere,
The Cloud of Glebe disperss'd, unhurt appear;
Who cover'd thus with Dust more Glorious shone,
And by the Danger past was dearer grown;
Good Heav'ns! they cry'd, what Misery, what Woe
Have we escap'd by this eluded Blow?
Bless'd be the Guardian Angel's watchful Care,
Who to preserve the precious Life of Vere,
And save the Valiant Chief for Glorious Fight,
Beat down the Ball, and made it err aright.
But while the boldest Britons shook with Fear,
Unshaken, unconcern'd, undaunted Vere
At once his Troops did thro' the Water lead,
And thro' the Fire, which Albert's Cannon made.
Bold he advanc'd thro' Smoke and Sulphur Flames,
Despising Vet'ran Troops, and haughty Gen'rals Names.
He form'd the Lines, and did his Host excite
To closer Combate, and decisive Fight.
Of the Left Wing Horatio was the Head;
The Right the Valiant Belgian Prince obey'd.
Britannia's Gen'ral in the Centre stands
To guide the Fight, and give out high Commands.
He as a Master did his Troops dispose,
And bad the Battel move, to dispossess the Foes.
A pond'rous Ball that from a Cannon came,
Beneath his Courser's Belly graz'd, and threw,
The Glebe on high, which round the Gen'ral flew:
Th'affrighted Britons trembling stood, and fear'd
The heap of Earth their Leader had interr'd.
But when his Cohorts saw intrepid Vere,
The Cloud of Glebe disperss'd, unhurt appear;
Who cover'd thus with Dust more Glorious shone,
And by the Danger past was dearer grown;
281
Have we escap'd by this eluded Blow?
Bless'd be the Guardian Angel's watchful Care,
Who to preserve the precious Life of Vere,
And save the Valiant Chief for Glorious Fight,
Beat down the Ball, and made it err aright.
But while the boldest Britons shook with Fear,
Unshaken, unconcern'd, undaunted Vere
At once his Troops did thro' the Water lead,
And thro' the Fire, which Albert's Cannon made.
Bold he advanc'd thro' Smoke and Sulphur Flames,
Despising Vet'ran Troops, and haughty Gen'rals Names.
He form'd the Lines, and did his Host excite
To closer Combate, and decisive Fight.
Of the Left Wing Horatio was the Head;
The Right the Valiant Belgian Prince obey'd.
Britannia's Gen'ral in the Centre stands
To guide the Fight, and give out high Commands.
He as a Master did his Troops dispose,
And bad the Battel move, to dispossess the Foes.
The Spanish Chief beheld the frowning Air,
And wrathful Aspect of th'advancing War.
But thought his Host in their strong Camp secure
From Belgia's Anger, and Britannia's Pow'r.
His Army's Right lay stretch'd to Legia's Flood,
The Left extended to a distant Wood;
And on a rising Ground th'embattel'd Centre stood.
In Number placing his presumptuous Hopes,
In his strong Camp and old victorious Troops.
Sure of Success, the Briton he defy'd,
And with Iberia's customary Pride,
Did as a rash Attempt, their fearless March deride.
Th'embattel'd Host of haughty Spain to guard,
And Vere's advancing Cohorts to retard,
Dreadful in Arms the king of Terrors stood,
Threatning his Mein, his Garments roll'd in Blood.
Shot from his Eyes a red, destructive Glare
Of kindled Sulphur, flash'd along the Air.
Ruddy Eruptions from his Nostrils came,
And from his num'rous Mouths thick Smoke and baleful Flame.
His countless Hands uplifted in the Field,
Ten thousand Spears, ten thousand Swords did weild.
Wild Ruin, sad Distress, untimely Fate,
And weeping Woe, did on the Monarch wait.
His formidable Shape the Britons saw,
They view'd the Danger, but they felt no Awe.
Death ne'er in more tremendous Forms appear'd,
Ne'er show'd more Pomp, yet ne'er was less rever'd.
No Threats of Death the Britons could arrest,
Combate they forc'd, and bold on Danger prest.
To Hazard they advanced, neglecting Care,
And dauntless rush'd on the sharp Edge of War.
And wrathful Aspect of th'advancing War.
But thought his Host in their strong Camp secure
From Belgia's Anger, and Britannia's Pow'r.
His Army's Right lay stretch'd to Legia's Flood,
The Left extended to a distant Wood;
And on a rising Ground th'embattel'd Centre stood.
In Number placing his presumptuous Hopes,
In his strong Camp and old victorious Troops.
282
And with Iberia's customary Pride,
Did as a rash Attempt, their fearless March deride.
Th'embattel'd Host of haughty Spain to guard,
And Vere's advancing Cohorts to retard,
Dreadful in Arms the king of Terrors stood,
Threatning his Mein, his Garments roll'd in Blood.
Shot from his Eyes a red, destructive Glare
Of kindled Sulphur, flash'd along the Air.
Ruddy Eruptions from his Nostrils came,
And from his num'rous Mouths thick Smoke and baleful Flame.
His countless Hands uplifted in the Field,
Ten thousand Spears, ten thousand Swords did weild.
Wild Ruin, sad Distress, untimely Fate,
And weeping Woe, did on the Monarch wait.
His formidable Shape the Britons saw,
They view'd the Danger, but they felt no Awe.
Death ne'er in more tremendous Forms appear'd,
Ne'er show'd more Pomp, yet ne'er was less rever'd.
No Threats of Death the Britons could arrest,
Combate they forc'd, and bold on Danger prest.
To Hazard they advanced, neglecting Care,
And dauntless rush'd on the sharp Edge of War.
First brave Horatio with his stout Brigade,
So Vere commanded, did the Foe invade.
He wav'd his Sword, accustom'd to prevail,
And march'd his Troops th'Iberian to assail.
Thro' flying Deaths, and Storms of Hostile Shot
Boldly advanc'd, and a close Combate sought.
He with a Brav'ry oft in Battel shown,
Took all their Fire, returning not his own,
Till he advanc'd so near th'embattel'd Foe,
That Fate might be ascertain'd of his Blow.
Then on th'Iberian he his Fury spent,
And mid'st the Cohorts dreadful Vollies sent.
His Arms of Fire sure Ruin did convey,
Death had no room to err, or miss its way.
The Foe beat down by Show'rs of Leaden Ball,
Like Rows of Trees before a Tempest fall,
Then brandishing his Faulchion, to pursue
The dreadful Blow, he mid'st the Battel flew.
His valiant Britons at their Chiefs Command,
Slung all their Guns, and follow'd Sword in Hand.
With his bright Blade Horatio made his way:
Velez advanc'd th'Invader's Course to stay.
Before the Spaniard undertook the War,
To fam'd Saint Jago he address'd his Pray'r:
A little Idol he devoutly kiss'd,
Hung in the Bosom, Danger to resist.
With Courage brave Horatio he assail'd,
But from the harden'd Helm th'eluded Sword recoil'd.
Enrag'd Horatio made the Spaniard feel
A stronger Arm, and more destructive Steel.
The Briton's Blade, which ne'er did Fate deceive,
Of his right Hand th'Iberian did bereave.
Grasping his Sword, his Hand fell on the Plain,
He thus dismember'd, left the Field in Pain,
And Tracks of reeking Blood did all his way distain.
Luna, a Murcian Lord, with mighty Rage
Did next the great Horatio's Arms engage.
He of the pure Illustrious Current proud,
Which in his Veins unstain'd with Mixture flow'd
Of Jewish, Gothick, or Morisco Blood;
To Belgia's Fields came with a noble Train,
And left his Palace, and his Lands in Spain.
In Nuptial Bands he newly had been ty'd,
But left his Country, and his lovely Bride:
Having a late Suspicion entertain'd,
That her Iberian Blood had once been stain'd
With a base Stream (indelible Disgrace!)
Deriv'd from Princes of the Gothick Race.
He to the Combate boldly did advance,
And at Horatio pass'd his glitt'ring Lance.
Resisted by the Plate, the Weapon broke;
The valiant Briton with a noble stroke,
That sever'd half his Neck, the Spaniard slew;
From his divided Veins a Torrent flew.
His high, Iberian unpolluted Blood
Now with the Vulgar mix'd, and undistinguish'd flow'd.
So Vere commanded, did the Foe invade.
He wav'd his Sword, accustom'd to prevail,
And march'd his Troops th'Iberian to assail.
Thro' flying Deaths, and Storms of Hostile Shot
Boldly advanc'd, and a close Combate sought.
283
Took all their Fire, returning not his own,
Till he advanc'd so near th'embattel'd Foe,
That Fate might be ascertain'd of his Blow.
Then on th'Iberian he his Fury spent,
And mid'st the Cohorts dreadful Vollies sent.
His Arms of Fire sure Ruin did convey,
Death had no room to err, or miss its way.
The Foe beat down by Show'rs of Leaden Ball,
Like Rows of Trees before a Tempest fall,
Then brandishing his Faulchion, to pursue
The dreadful Blow, he mid'st the Battel flew.
His valiant Britons at their Chiefs Command,
Slung all their Guns, and follow'd Sword in Hand.
With his bright Blade Horatio made his way:
Velez advanc'd th'Invader's Course to stay.
Before the Spaniard undertook the War,
To fam'd Saint Jago he address'd his Pray'r:
A little Idol he devoutly kiss'd,
Hung in the Bosom, Danger to resist.
With Courage brave Horatio he assail'd,
But from the harden'd Helm th'eluded Sword recoil'd.
Enrag'd Horatio made the Spaniard feel
A stronger Arm, and more destructive Steel.
The Briton's Blade, which ne'er did Fate deceive,
Of his right Hand th'Iberian did bereave.
Grasping his Sword, his Hand fell on the Plain,
He thus dismember'd, left the Field in Pain,
And Tracks of reeking Blood did all his way distain.
284
Did next the great Horatio's Arms engage.
He of the pure Illustrious Current proud,
Which in his Veins unstain'd with Mixture flow'd
Of Jewish, Gothick, or Morisco Blood;
To Belgia's Fields came with a noble Train,
And left his Palace, and his Lands in Spain.
In Nuptial Bands he newly had been ty'd,
But left his Country, and his lovely Bride:
Having a late Suspicion entertain'd,
That her Iberian Blood had once been stain'd
With a base Stream (indelible Disgrace!)
Deriv'd from Princes of the Gothick Race.
He to the Combate boldly did advance,
And at Horatio pass'd his glitt'ring Lance.
Resisted by the Plate, the Weapon broke;
The valiant Briton with a noble stroke,
That sever'd half his Neck, the Spaniard slew;
From his divided Veins a Torrent flew.
His high, Iberian unpolluted Blood
Now with the Vulgar mix'd, and undistinguish'd flow'd.
Elsewhere Gouramno urg'd with Martial Fire,
Which did the Hero from his Youth inspire;
Adorn'd with Seams and honourable Scars,
And gloriously deform'd by frequent Wars;
Did bright in Arms a noble Fight maintain,
With the fam'd Vet'ran Infantry of Spain.
His brandish'd Sword did ne'er in vain descend;
Still sure Destruction did the Blow attend.
He did the Plain with dreadful Slaughter spread,
And to the Living climb'd o'er heaps of Dead.
Darting, like Light'ning, thro' th'embattel'd Files,
He cover'd all the Field with Hostile Spoils.
Ortes, a valiant Andalusian Lord,
Fell by the mighty Chief's Victorious Sword.
He struck his Head off with a single Wound,
Which star'd, and gasp'd, and bounded on the Ground;
Thro' the Neck Veins, cut by the fatal Blade,
The lab'ring Heart warm leaping Life convey'd,
And all its Works of Blood the vital Engine play'd.
Which did the Hero from his Youth inspire;
Adorn'd with Seams and honourable Scars,
And gloriously deform'd by frequent Wars;
Did bright in Arms a noble Fight maintain,
With the fam'd Vet'ran Infantry of Spain.
His brandish'd Sword did ne'er in vain descend;
Still sure Destruction did the Blow attend.
285
And to the Living climb'd o'er heaps of Dead.
Darting, like Light'ning, thro' th'embattel'd Files,
He cover'd all the Field with Hostile Spoils.
Ortes, a valiant Andalusian Lord,
Fell by the mighty Chief's Victorious Sword.
He struck his Head off with a single Wound,
Which star'd, and gasp'd, and bounded on the Ground;
Thro' the Neck Veins, cut by the fatal Blade,
The lab'ring Heart warm leaping Life convey'd,
And all its Works of Blood the vital Engine play'd.
Vergas with Fury did the Briton meet;
But wounded, fell before the Conqu'ror's Feet.
Gouramno's Sword went deep into his Side,
And did the proud Iberian's Spleen divide.
Conzo and Chimay brought their Friend Relief,
And from the Combate bore the bleeding Chief.
Faint both with Loss of Blood, and Sense of Pain,
Th'Iberian Chief could scarcely Life maintain.
He drew in Throbs his interrupted Breath,
And shudd'ring felt the cold Embrace of Death.
Perceiving now the King of Terrors near,
Stung with Remorse, and grip'd with conscious Fear,
The Chief reflected on his horrid Guilt,
The Towns he pillag'd, and the Blood he spilt.
He call'd to Mind how by his fierce Command,
His bloody Troops had ravag'd Belgia's Land.
How he by Rapine, Treasure had amass'd,
Fair Cities sack'd, and laid rich Countries wast.
Now to avert Heav'n's Vengeance, and the Rage
Of his insulting Conscience to asswage,
To Cities ruin'd by his Violence,
Expiring he bequeath'd his Wealth immense.
Next Salo, hapless Youth! of noble Blood,
Who left the Banks of fair Duero's Flood,
In Belgia's Plains fell by Gouramno's Arms,
And envious Death effac'd his blooming Charms.
But wounded, fell before the Conqu'ror's Feet.
Gouramno's Sword went deep into his Side,
And did the proud Iberian's Spleen divide.
Conzo and Chimay brought their Friend Relief,
And from the Combate bore the bleeding Chief.
Faint both with Loss of Blood, and Sense of Pain,
Th'Iberian Chief could scarcely Life maintain.
He drew in Throbs his interrupted Breath,
And shudd'ring felt the cold Embrace of Death.
Perceiving now the King of Terrors near,
Stung with Remorse, and grip'd with conscious Fear,
The Chief reflected on his horrid Guilt,
The Towns he pillag'd, and the Blood he spilt.
He call'd to Mind how by his fierce Command,
His bloody Troops had ravag'd Belgia's Land.
How he by Rapine, Treasure had amass'd,
Fair Cities sack'd, and laid rich Countries wast.
286
Of his insulting Conscience to asswage,
To Cities ruin'd by his Violence,
Expiring he bequeath'd his Wealth immense.
Next Salo, hapless Youth! of noble Blood,
Who left the Banks of fair Duero's Flood,
In Belgia's Plains fell by Gouramno's Arms,
And envious Death effac'd his blooming Charms.
Hamel, where Danger was, did still appear
With Death familiar, but unknown to Fear:
Eager of Fame, and negligent of Wound,
He still amidst the thickest Foes was found.
Reeking with Slaughter, and with Dust distain'd,
He cleft the Files, and on the Spaniard gain'd.
Vasquez to Albert near in Blood ally'd,
And Guarda by brave Hamel's Weapon dy'd.
One in Sevilla, one in Ronda dwelt,
This his bright Lance, that his broad Faulchion felt.
Lorca was in th'way by luckless Chance,
Where the great Chief did thro' th'Ranks advance.
While for his Life, the Spaniard sore afraid,
With piteous Looks and moving Accents pray'd,
As Hamel raging thro' the Battel prest,
He with his Lance transfix'd the Coward's Breast.
Lorca out-stretch'd, lay gasping on the Plain,
And pour'd his Vitals out in tort'ring Pain.
With Death familiar, but unknown to Fear:
Eager of Fame, and negligent of Wound,
He still amidst the thickest Foes was found.
Reeking with Slaughter, and with Dust distain'd,
He cleft the Files, and on the Spaniard gain'd.
Vasquez to Albert near in Blood ally'd,
And Guarda by brave Hamel's Weapon dy'd.
One in Sevilla, one in Ronda dwelt,
This his bright Lance, that his broad Faulchion felt.
Lorca was in th'way by luckless Chance,
Where the great Chief did thro' th'Ranks advance.
While for his Life, the Spaniard sore afraid,
With piteous Looks and moving Accents pray'd,
As Hamel raging thro' the Battel prest,
He with his Lance transfix'd the Coward's Breast.
Lorca out-stretch'd, lay gasping on the Plain,
And pour'd his Vitals out in tort'ring Pain.
Not far from Hamel, Ingol bravely fought,
And glorious Hazard with Impatience sought.
He was to Danger easy of Access,
And if it did not first to him Address,
He did on Danger run, and on Destruction press.
He with his fatal Sword his Passage made,
Ruin behind its ghastly Pomp display'd.
Marignan glorious in refulgent Arms,
And Borgia's valu'd for his youthful Charms,
Were by the valiant Britons's Weapon slain;
Next Motto wounded fell, and bit the Plain.
And glorious Hazard with Impatience sought.
287
And if it did not first to him Address,
He did on Danger run, and on Destruction press.
He with his fatal Sword his Passage made,
Ruin behind its ghastly Pomp display'd.
Marignan glorious in refulgent Arms,
And Borgia's valu'd for his youthful Charms,
Were by the valiant Britons's Weapon slain;
Next Motto wounded fell, and bit the Plain.
Then did the Briton with his Faulchion slay
The great Alphonso, who oppos'd his way;
While in tormenting Pains the Chief did lie,
Of Life despairing, and afraid to Die,
Horror and dread his conscious Mind possest,
And Fears of Vengeance fill'd his guilty Breast.
He now reflected how in India he
Had left the dreadful Marks of Spanish Cruelty.
Pain'd with his Wound, and grip'd with inward Care,
The agonizing Chief thus vented his Despair.
I did a thousand various Deaths employ,
A mild and gentle People to destroy.
I rob'd the Indian of his wealthy Store,
And by my Racks extorted Silver Oar.
To sooth my Rage, ah, Cruelty accurst!
To cloy with Gold my avaricious Thirst,
I did their peaceful Towns with Slaughter load,
And bath'd the Indian World in Indian Blood.
Till both the Christian's, and the Spaniard's Name
To those poor inoffensive Men became,
As Hell and Torments are to us, the same.
That Hell, those Torments I must undergo,
That did no Mercy to the Indian show.
I must th'Almighty's heavy Vengeance bear,
Doom'd to Immortal Anguish and Despair:
This said, the Chief distracted in his Thought,
Fail'd in his Speech, and rattled in his Throat;
Death o'er his Eyes, did a thick Gloom display,
Enthron'd the Night, and dispossess'd the Day.
The great Alphonso, who oppos'd his way;
While in tormenting Pains the Chief did lie,
Of Life despairing, and afraid to Die,
Horror and dread his conscious Mind possest,
And Fears of Vengeance fill'd his guilty Breast.
He now reflected how in India he
Had left the dreadful Marks of Spanish Cruelty.
Pain'd with his Wound, and grip'd with inward Care,
The agonizing Chief thus vented his Despair.
I did a thousand various Deaths employ,
A mild and gentle People to destroy.
I rob'd the Indian of his wealthy Store,
And by my Racks extorted Silver Oar.
To sooth my Rage, ah, Cruelty accurst!
To cloy with Gold my avaricious Thirst,
I did their peaceful Towns with Slaughter load,
And bath'd the Indian World in Indian Blood.
288
To those poor inoffensive Men became,
As Hell and Torments are to us, the same.
That Hell, those Torments I must undergo,
That did no Mercy to the Indian show.
I must th'Almighty's heavy Vengeance bear,
Doom'd to Immortal Anguish and Despair:
This said, the Chief distracted in his Thought,
Fail'd in his Speech, and rattled in his Throat;
Death o'er his Eyes, did a thick Gloom display,
Enthron'd the Night, and dispossess'd the Day.
Silvius, whom all Men did with Honour name,
By great Atchievements now improv'd his Fame.
His Sword Colonna of his Life bereft,
Who his rich Acres on the Adda left,
Next Barlotte's Head his fatal Faulchion cleft.
Noble Pastrana next with Courage fir'd,
Sought the brave Briton, and the Fight requir'd.
The blooming Youth inspir'd with Thirst of Fame,
To Belgia's Fields from fair Almeria came.
Waving his bright Toledo in the Air,
He for his Foe did suddain Fate prepare.
Before the Warrior left the Realms of Spain,
He at a Royal Bull-feast, on the Plain,
Near high Madrita, did great Honour gain.
The Youth procur'd by his victorious Spear
The Envy of the Men, and Favour of the Fair.
A Crimson Scarf across his Shoulder shone,
With which bright Zara did her Lover crown.
Which now he kiss'd, and on the pow'rful Charm
Depended much, much on his vig'rous Arm.
The Spaniard praying, that he might prevail,
Did with a noble Fire the Foe assail.
His Faulchion slightly cut the Briton's Side,
Whence trickling Blood the Hero's Armor dy'd.
Silvius enrag'd, return'd a deadly Stroke,
Which thro' the Shoulder of the Spaniard broke;
The Warrior fell, and thus expiring cry'd,
Ah, Zara! thou must be another's Bride.
Ah, cruel Fate! Zara farewel, and dy'd.
By great Atchievements now improv'd his Fame.
His Sword Colonna of his Life bereft,
Who his rich Acres on the Adda left,
Next Barlotte's Head his fatal Faulchion cleft.
Noble Pastrana next with Courage fir'd,
Sought the brave Briton, and the Fight requir'd.
The blooming Youth inspir'd with Thirst of Fame,
To Belgia's Fields from fair Almeria came.
Waving his bright Toledo in the Air,
He for his Foe did suddain Fate prepare.
Before the Warrior left the Realms of Spain,
He at a Royal Bull-feast, on the Plain,
Near high Madrita, did great Honour gain.
The Youth procur'd by his victorious Spear
The Envy of the Men, and Favour of the Fair.
A Crimson Scarf across his Shoulder shone,
With which bright Zara did her Lover crown.
289
Depended much, much on his vig'rous Arm.
The Spaniard praying, that he might prevail,
Did with a noble Fire the Foe assail.
His Faulchion slightly cut the Briton's Side,
Whence trickling Blood the Hero's Armor dy'd.
Silvius enrag'd, return'd a deadly Stroke,
Which thro' the Shoulder of the Spaniard broke;
The Warrior fell, and thus expiring cry'd,
Ah, Zara! thou must be another's Bride.
Ah, cruel Fate! Zara farewel, and dy'd.
These valiant Chiefs the Combate did maintain
With Albert's Foot, the Flow'r and Pride of Spain.
During the sharp Dispute, on either side
Many great Chiefs, and vulgar Warriors dy'd.
The valiant Dromar on the Belgick Plain,
Ah! much lamented, hapless Youth! was slain.
The fatal Bullet thro' his Forehead pass'd,
Broke thro' his Brain, the Seat of Sense effac'd.
He dropt his Arms, and fell bereft of Breath,
Untimely Triumph! beauteous Spoil of Death!
Thy Deeds, brave Youth, thy rigid Fate survive,
Thy Name, enroll'd with mighty Chiefs, shall live
Distinguish'd from the unrecorded Throng,
In British Annals, and in British Song.
With Albert's Foot, the Flow'r and Pride of Spain.
During the sharp Dispute, on either side
Many great Chiefs, and vulgar Warriors dy'd.
The valiant Dromar on the Belgick Plain,
Ah! much lamented, hapless Youth! was slain.
The fatal Bullet thro' his Forehead pass'd,
Broke thro' his Brain, the Seat of Sense effac'd.
He dropt his Arms, and fell bereft of Breath,
Untimely Triumph! beauteous Spoil of Death!
Thy Deeds, brave Youth, thy rigid Fate survive,
Thy Name, enroll'd with mighty Chiefs, shall live
Distinguish'd from the unrecorded Throng,
In British Annals, and in British Song.
There Ruta, Ruta did in Arms excel,
Asserting Right, and pure Religion fell.
There Conway dy'd by great Velasco's Spear,
His luckless Fate, he was to all so dear,
Griev'd all the Host, and touch'd e'en mighty Vere.
Their valiant Credan by Gonzaga slain.
Discolour'd with his Blood the dusty Plain,
Still in his Martial Face his Fury did remain.
Mansellan their excel'd in Arms by few,
There his last Breath the brave Morgano drew,
Fam'd Lerma one, and one Queveda slew.
Asserting Right, and pure Religion fell.
290
His luckless Fate, he was to all so dear,
Griev'd all the Host, and touch'd e'en mighty Vere.
Their valiant Credan by Gonzaga slain.
Discolour'd with his Blood the dusty Plain,
Still in his Martial Face his Fury did remain.
Mansellan their excel'd in Arms by few,
There his last Breath the brave Morgano drew,
Fam'd Lerma one, and one Queveda slew.
Palma mean time did with a bold Brigade,
By Vere's Command, th'Iberian Horse invade,
He march'd to Combate with a dauntless Air,
With glorious Danger pleas'd, and more than vulgar War.
With so much Courage, such resistless Force
The valiant Chief assail'd th'Iberian Horse,
That soon he broke the num'rous Foe, and spread
Thy wond'ring Banks, O Legia, with the Death.
By this brave Deed he gain'd Immortal Fame,
And equal'd Captains of the greatest Name.
The Troops he led did wond'rous Courage show,
And with resistless Fury charg'd the Foe.
With noble Rage they the hot Fight maintain'd,
Broke thro' the Files, and on th'Iberian gain'd.
Prodigious Heaps of slaughter'd Spaniards slain
Lay welt'ring in their Blood o'er all the Plain.
By Vere's Command, th'Iberian Horse invade,
He march'd to Combate with a dauntless Air,
With glorious Danger pleas'd, and more than vulgar War.
With so much Courage, such resistless Force
The valiant Chief assail'd th'Iberian Horse,
That soon he broke the num'rous Foe, and spread
Thy wond'ring Banks, O Legia, with the Death.
By this brave Deed he gain'd Immortal Fame,
And equal'd Captains of the greatest Name.
The Troops he led did wond'rous Courage show,
And with resistless Fury charg'd the Foe.
With noble Rage they the hot Fight maintain'd,
Broke thro' the Files, and on th'Iberian gain'd.
Prodigious Heaps of slaughter'd Spaniards slain
Lay welt'ring in their Blood o'er all the Plain.
Dead of his Wound, Durango press'd the Field
The valiant Chief was by a Bullet kill'd,
Which thro' his harden'd Cuirass made its way,
And deep within his Bowels buried lay.
Hierges extended lay upon the Ground,
He from a Lance receiv'd his fatal Wound.
The Steel his Arm near the right Shoulder pass'd,
Where the large Vessels are for Safety plac'd.
It cut th'Arterial Vital Tubes in two,
And from their gaping Trunks a purple River flew.
Gomez was kill'd, a Chief of great Renown,
Who in the Field in Gold and Tissue shone.
Odours more sweet from his rich Garments flow'd,
Than from a Myrtle Grove, or Spicy Wood.
Rare Essences, rich Ointments, high Perfume,
Embalm'd the Chief, while living, for his Tomb.
The fatal Ball thro' his bright Armor prest,
Pierc'd the right Pap, and lodg'd within his Breast.
Coughing a while, and spitting frothy Blood
From wounded Lungs, the reeling Hero stood:
Then down he fell, and soon prevailing Death
For ever barr'd the Passes of his Breath.
Caraffa, Porta, and great Numbers more
On Legia's Banks lay reeking in their Gore.
Enrag'd to see such heaps of Spaniards slain,
The advancing Briton's Fury to sustain,
Mendoza, to the Fight his Squadrons brought,
And worthy of his Fame with Courage fought.
Brave Montezuma of distinguish'd Fame
With his stout Troops to aid Mendoza came.
Fearless of Danger with his brandish'd Sword
He charg'd the Briton, and the Fight restor'd.
These did the Progress of the Victor stay,
And chang'd a while the Fortune of the Day.
The valiant Chief was by a Bullet kill'd,
291
And deep within his Bowels buried lay.
Hierges extended lay upon the Ground,
He from a Lance receiv'd his fatal Wound.
The Steel his Arm near the right Shoulder pass'd,
Where the large Vessels are for Safety plac'd.
It cut th'Arterial Vital Tubes in two,
And from their gaping Trunks a purple River flew.
Gomez was kill'd, a Chief of great Renown,
Who in the Field in Gold and Tissue shone.
Odours more sweet from his rich Garments flow'd,
Than from a Myrtle Grove, or Spicy Wood.
Rare Essences, rich Ointments, high Perfume,
Embalm'd the Chief, while living, for his Tomb.
The fatal Ball thro' his bright Armor prest,
Pierc'd the right Pap, and lodg'd within his Breast.
Coughing a while, and spitting frothy Blood
From wounded Lungs, the reeling Hero stood:
Then down he fell, and soon prevailing Death
For ever barr'd the Passes of his Breath.
Caraffa, Porta, and great Numbers more
On Legia's Banks lay reeking in their Gore.
Enrag'd to see such heaps of Spaniards slain,
The advancing Briton's Fury to sustain,
Mendoza, to the Fight his Squadrons brought,
And worthy of his Fame with Courage fought.
Brave Montezuma of distinguish'd Fame
With his stout Troops to aid Mendoza came.
Fearless of Danger with his brandish'd Sword
He charg'd the Briton, and the Fight restor'd.
292
And chang'd a while the Fortune of the Day.
Ogle mean time, and Ball of great Renown,
For Skill and Courage well in Belgia known;
Did with a noble Fire, and mighty Force
Charge in another part th'Iberian Horse.
With Sword in Hand they to the Combate flew,
And at their first Assault great Numbers slew.
But by the Foe, who kept the rising Ground
Out-number'd, and encompass'd almost round,
The British Troops began at length to yield,
And in disorder leave th'unprosp'rous Field.
For Skill and Courage well in Belgia known;
Did with a noble Fire, and mighty Force
Charge in another part th'Iberian Horse.
With Sword in Hand they to the Combate flew,
And at their first Assault great Numbers slew.
But by the Foe, who kept the rising Ground
Out-number'd, and encompass'd almost round,
The British Troops began at length to yield,
And in disorder leave th'unprosp'rous Field.
Soon as the watchful Vere's discerning Eye
Observ'd the British Troops begin to ply,
And to the advancing Spaniard yield the Ground,
The noble Chief with Indignation frown'd:
He all enrag'd, his gen'rous Courser spur'd,
And waving high in Air his flaming Sword,
He with a Mein, that great Resentment show'd,
To his disorder'd Squadrons swiftly rode.
He us'd this Language to prevent their Flight,
Revive their Courage, and restore their Fight.
Observ'd the British Troops begin to ply,
And to the advancing Spaniard yield the Ground,
The noble Chief with Indignation frown'd:
He all enrag'd, his gen'rous Courser spur'd,
And waving high in Air his flaming Sword,
He with a Mein, that great Resentment show'd,
To his disorder'd Squadrons swiftly rode.
He us'd this Language to prevent their Flight,
Revive their Courage, and restore their Fight.
What mean my Fellow-Soldiers to retreat?
That you are Britons, can you thus forget?
Can you forget your ancient Martial Fame?
And stain the Honour of the English Name?
In Belgia's Fields what Wonders have you done?
Will you pollute the Laurels you have won?
Does not your Valour Europe's Rights defend?
Do not your Altars on your Arms depend?
If from Iberia's Troops you turn away,
And lose (which Heav'n forbid) this great important Day;
What Plagues and Ruin, what Distress and Woe,
Will in a Torrent o'er the Nations slow?
Europa must Iberian Fetters wear,
Britain must sink, and Belgia must despair.
False Worship you oppose, and lawless Might,
The Cause of Earth, the Cause of Heav'n you fight.
Fair Liberty and pure Religion wait
From this Day's Combate to receive their Fate.
What Shriecks they give, what lamentable Cries?
What Trouble, what Despair possess their Eyes?
With Wings out-stretch'd, they stand prepar'd to fly,
To leave the Earth, and reach their native Sky,
While they, O Britons! see your wav'ring Troops,
On whose victorious Arms they build their Hopes.
Advance, O Britons! and renew the Fight,
Protect these Heav'nly Guests, and stop their Flight.
Engage their Stay, whose bright, Cœlestial Train
Does all that Earth can wish, or Heaven bestow, contain.
Should you the Danger of the Battel shun,
To be secure, say whither will you run?
You cannot, dare not reach Britannia's Isle;
Here you must perish in a forreign Soil.
The Conqu'ror's Sword will reach you as you fly,
Your ignominious Corps on Belgia's Fields must ly.
You must conceal'd in Hills and Woods remain,
Flying the Foe, be by the Peasant slain.
Britons, reflect, and let your Bosoms burn
With their known Fire, and to the War return.
I'll lead your Squadrons to renew the Fight,
You are secure in Battel, not in Flight.
You Danger shun, while you at Conquest aim,
The way that leads to Safety, leads to Fame.
That you are Britons, can you thus forget?
Can you forget your ancient Martial Fame?
And stain the Honour of the English Name?
293
Will you pollute the Laurels you have won?
Does not your Valour Europe's Rights defend?
Do not your Altars on your Arms depend?
If from Iberia's Troops you turn away,
And lose (which Heav'n forbid) this great important Day;
What Plagues and Ruin, what Distress and Woe,
Will in a Torrent o'er the Nations slow?
Europa must Iberian Fetters wear,
Britain must sink, and Belgia must despair.
False Worship you oppose, and lawless Might,
The Cause of Earth, the Cause of Heav'n you fight.
Fair Liberty and pure Religion wait
From this Day's Combate to receive their Fate.
What Shriecks they give, what lamentable Cries?
What Trouble, what Despair possess their Eyes?
With Wings out-stretch'd, they stand prepar'd to fly,
To leave the Earth, and reach their native Sky,
While they, O Britons! see your wav'ring Troops,
On whose victorious Arms they build their Hopes.
Advance, O Britons! and renew the Fight,
Protect these Heav'nly Guests, and stop their Flight.
Engage their Stay, whose bright, Cœlestial Train
Does all that Earth can wish, or Heaven bestow, contain.
Should you the Danger of the Battel shun,
To be secure, say whither will you run?
You cannot, dare not reach Britannia's Isle;
Here you must perish in a forreign Soil.
The Conqu'ror's Sword will reach you as you fly,
Your ignominious Corps on Belgia's Fields must ly.
294
Flying the Foe, be by the Peasant slain.
Britons, reflect, and let your Bosoms burn
With their known Fire, and to the War return.
I'll lead your Squadrons to renew the Fight,
You are secure in Battel, not in Flight.
You Danger shun, while you at Conquest aim,
The way that leads to Safety, leads to Fame.
He march'd, and waving his Victorious Sword,
To conquer or to die, he gave the Word.
His Speech, his Air, his Mein the Squadrons sir'd,
And with new Courage all their Breasts inspir'd.
Onward they march'd th'Iberian to engage,
With greater Vigor, and with fiercer Rage.
The mighty Vere with Martial Ardor warm'd,
Deeds, which will scarce obtain Belief, perform'd.
Not ancient Greece or Rome have greater shown,
Not at Pharsalia's Fields, or those of Marathon.
With Slaughter red the God-like Hero past,
Broke the thick Lines, and laid the Squadrons waste.
O'er slaughter'd Heaps th'advancing Warrior strode,
Did all the Field with bleeding Ruin load,
And with his fatal Weapons cut an open Road.
Obsequious Death did near the Conqu'ror stay,
Watching with Eager Eyes his Faulchion's Sway,
And where that fell, enjoy'd her certain Prey.
To conquer or to die, he gave the Word.
His Speech, his Air, his Mein the Squadrons sir'd,
And with new Courage all their Breasts inspir'd.
Onward they march'd th'Iberian to engage,
With greater Vigor, and with fiercer Rage.
The mighty Vere with Martial Ardor warm'd,
Deeds, which will scarce obtain Belief, perform'd.
Not ancient Greece or Rome have greater shown,
Not at Pharsalia's Fields, or those of Marathon.
With Slaughter red the God-like Hero past,
Broke the thick Lines, and laid the Squadrons waste.
O'er slaughter'd Heaps th'advancing Warrior strode,
Did all the Field with bleeding Ruin load,
And with his fatal Weapons cut an open Road.
Obsequious Death did near the Conqu'ror stay,
Watching with Eager Eyes his Faulchion's Sway,
And where that fell, enjoy'd her certain Prey.
When the great Vere had with his conqu'ring Sword
Confirm'd the Squadrons, and their Fire restor'd.
The watchful Gen'ral thro' the Army flew,
To take of all the Field a perfect Veiw.
In every place the Hero did appear,
And where it languish'd most, renew'd the War.
Serene of Mind, he prudent Orders gives,
The Foe disheartens, and his Friends revives.
In such Proportions where his Flegm and Fire,
As high, Heroick Vertue does require.
So just a Mixture did the Balance hold,
As made his Thought sedate, his Action bold.
He as the Army's animating Soul,
Did every part enliven and controul:
Did fainting Members with new Life enspire,
Whole in the Whole, and in each Part entire.
His Vigilance had Danger still in view,
He watch'd its Motion, and did close pursue,
Which follow'd others, as from him it flew.
Where ever Danger saw his awful Face,
Judging it self unsafe, it left the place.
Oft to elude the sharp-ey'd Gen'ral's Sight,
From Post to Post it took a suddain Flight:
And with its Place, it often chaing'd its Shape,
But ne'er could his pursuing Eye escape.
During the bloody Business of the Day,
He with his Arms did still obstruct its way:
Till beaten from the Host of valiant Vere,
It turn'd upon the Foe, and fix'd its Terrors there.
Confirm'd the Squadrons, and their Fire restor'd.
295
To take of all the Field a perfect Veiw.
In every place the Hero did appear,
And where it languish'd most, renew'd the War.
Serene of Mind, he prudent Orders gives,
The Foe disheartens, and his Friends revives.
In such Proportions where his Flegm and Fire,
As high, Heroick Vertue does require.
So just a Mixture did the Balance hold,
As made his Thought sedate, his Action bold.
He as the Army's animating Soul,
Did every part enliven and controul:
Did fainting Members with new Life enspire,
Whole in the Whole, and in each Part entire.
His Vigilance had Danger still in view,
He watch'd its Motion, and did close pursue,
Which follow'd others, as from him it flew.
Where ever Danger saw his awful Face,
Judging it self unsafe, it left the place.
Oft to elude the sharp-ey'd Gen'ral's Sight,
From Post to Post it took a suddain Flight:
And with its Place, it often chaing'd its Shape,
But ne'er could his pursuing Eye escape.
During the bloody Business of the Day,
He with his Arms did still obstruct its way:
Till beaten from the Host of valiant Vere,
It turn'd upon the Foe, and fix'd its Terrors there.
As the great Briton thro' the Squadrons flew,
And countless Numbers of the Spaniard slew,
Gusman, a mighty Catalonian Lord,
Of Bulk stupendous, wav'd his pond'rous Sword.
He did his vast Gigantick Shoulders reer
Above the Host, and tow'ring in the Air,
Did a tall, walking Obelisk appear.
Th'Iberian Army on his Strength rely'd,
Did in his Sword, as in their God, confide.
When the great Gen'ral left his native Land,
In Belgick Fields his Squadrons to command:
He did before their Sacred Altars eat
His Idol made of consecrated Wheat;
And with uplifted Hands devoutly swear,
His conqu'ring Sword should slay the hateful Vere:
Now of his Strength, and his past Vict'ries proud,
To execute his Vow, he march'd, exclaiming loud.
Great Vere observ'd, and with a Conqu'ror's Air,
Advanc'd to undertake Gigantick War.
Highly concern'd, the Hosts on either side,
To give them Space for Combate, did divide.
The Britons felt uncustomary Awe;
When they the huge Iberian Champion saw.
A suddain Terror thro' their Army went,
And all stood trembling for the vast Event.
His strong extended Arm did high in Air,
Horrid to see, his massy Faulchion reer.
Across the Briton's Crest the Weapon fell,
Whose faithful Steel its Fury did repel.
Then Vere incens'd, discharg'd a noble Blow
On the left Shoulder of the tow'ring Foe,
And deep into his Viens it pass'd his Armor thro'.
The gaping Wound th'enrag'd Iberian pain'd,
And his bright Armor flowing Blood distain'd.
Th'exulting Britons gave a loud Applause,
And to the Clouds their Shouts of Joy arose.
And countless Numbers of the Spaniard slew,
296
Of Bulk stupendous, wav'd his pond'rous Sword.
He did his vast Gigantick Shoulders reer
Above the Host, and tow'ring in the Air,
Did a tall, walking Obelisk appear.
Th'Iberian Army on his Strength rely'd,
Did in his Sword, as in their God, confide.
When the great Gen'ral left his native Land,
In Belgick Fields his Squadrons to command:
He did before their Sacred Altars eat
His Idol made of consecrated Wheat;
And with uplifted Hands devoutly swear,
His conqu'ring Sword should slay the hateful Vere:
Now of his Strength, and his past Vict'ries proud,
To execute his Vow, he march'd, exclaiming loud.
Great Vere observ'd, and with a Conqu'ror's Air,
Advanc'd to undertake Gigantick War.
Highly concern'd, the Hosts on either side,
To give them Space for Combate, did divide.
The Britons felt uncustomary Awe;
When they the huge Iberian Champion saw.
A suddain Terror thro' their Army went,
And all stood trembling for the vast Event.
His strong extended Arm did high in Air,
Horrid to see, his massy Faulchion reer.
Across the Briton's Crest the Weapon fell,
Whose faithful Steel its Fury did repel.
Then Vere incens'd, discharg'd a noble Blow
On the left Shoulder of the tow'ring Foe,
And deep into his Viens it pass'd his Armor thro'.
297
And his bright Armor flowing Blood distain'd.
Th'exulting Britons gave a loud Applause,
And to the Clouds their Shouts of Joy arose.
Th'Iberian Chief accustom'd to dispence,
Not to feel Wounds, this Stroke did so incense,
That he did all his Fire and Force collect,
And at the Briton's Head the Blow direct.
In this last Stroke on dire Revenge intent,
He all his Rage, and his whole Vigour spent.
The Briton bent his Body, and declin'd
The dreadful Storke for suddain Death design'd.
Sway'd with the Blow, that no Resistance found,
The Champion almost tumbled to the Ground:
When the great Briton with a furious Stroke,
Which thro' his Coat of Mail and Cuirass broke,
Did all his vast inferior Ribs divide,
And pierc'd his Liver thro' his wounded Side.
From him, his Arms the bleeding Champion threw,
And roaring out in Pain, back to his Army flew.
Thus turning back, he did the Host-affright,
And by his own, he put his Friends to Flight.
So when an Elephant in Asia bred,
Does at a shouting Indian Army's Head,
On his vast Back in moving Castles bear
Sublime Destruction, and airial War:
If as the living Mountain does advance,
He in his Breast, or Trunk, receives by chance
A painful Wound from some Invader's Lance:
Unwilling to sustain a fresh Attack,
He on his Masters turns his Terrors back.
And in his hasty Flight, the bellowing Beast
Treads whole Battalions down, and scares the rest.
Not to feel Wounds, this Stroke did so incense,
That he did all his Fire and Force collect,
And at the Briton's Head the Blow direct.
In this last Stroke on dire Revenge intent,
He all his Rage, and his whole Vigour spent.
The Briton bent his Body, and declin'd
The dreadful Storke for suddain Death design'd.
Sway'd with the Blow, that no Resistance found,
The Champion almost tumbled to the Ground:
When the great Briton with a furious Stroke,
Which thro' his Coat of Mail and Cuirass broke,
Did all his vast inferior Ribs divide,
And pierc'd his Liver thro' his wounded Side.
From him, his Arms the bleeding Champion threw,
And roaring out in Pain, back to his Army flew.
Thus turning back, he did the Host-affright,
And by his own, he put his Friends to Flight.
So when an Elephant in Asia bred,
Does at a shouting Indian Army's Head,
On his vast Back in moving Castles bear
Sublime Destruction, and airial War:
If as the living Mountain does advance,
He in his Breast, or Trunk, receives by chance
A painful Wound from some Invader's Lance:
298
He on his Masters turns his Terrors back.
And in his hasty Flight, the bellowing Beast
Treads whole Battalions down, and scares the rest.
Now Albert's Horse forsake the bloody Field,
And to the raging Foe the Battel yield.
The British Squadrons led by conqu'ring Vere,
Discharg'd their Fury on the flying Reer.
On Legia's Banks the vanquish'd Spaniards stood,
Their Flight arrested by th'opposing Flood;
Which then augmented by immod'rate Rain,
Its Channel fill'd, and threat'ned all the Plain.
Albert enrag'd, did mid'st the Squadrons fly,
And with loud Voice did to the Warriors cry,
By ignominious Flight will Spaniards stain
The Martial Glory of Victorious Spain?
Brave Vet'ran Troops, who long have Camps endur'd,
Strangers to Fear, and to Success innur'd,
Who can so many glorious Triumphs boast,
Who ne'er gave Ground, ne'er yet a Battel lost;
Will you, brave Men, from Danger turn you Face?
Will you your Honour stain, your Arms disgrace?
Shall the Fanatick, Impious Troops of Vere
From your inglorious Brows your Laurels tear?
Shall Hereticks your Altars over-turn?
Shall sacred Rome our Want of Courage mourn?
You certain chuse, uncertain Death to shun,
To sure Destruction you from Danger run.
If to the Flood for Safety you retreat,
You there will meet inevitable Fate.
But thro' the Britons you may cut your way,
Your Swords may turn the Fortune of the Day.
Rally, Iberians, and the Foe sustain,
Protect your Altars, and the Rights of Spain.
Let not the Foe insult with haughty Pride
Iberia's Captains, and her Arms deride.
And to the raging Foe the Battel yield.
The British Squadrons led by conqu'ring Vere,
Discharg'd their Fury on the flying Reer.
On Legia's Banks the vanquish'd Spaniards stood,
Their Flight arrested by th'opposing Flood;
Which then augmented by immod'rate Rain,
Its Channel fill'd, and threat'ned all the Plain.
Albert enrag'd, did mid'st the Squadrons fly,
And with loud Voice did to the Warriors cry,
By ignominious Flight will Spaniards stain
The Martial Glory of Victorious Spain?
Brave Vet'ran Troops, who long have Camps endur'd,
Strangers to Fear, and to Success innur'd,
Who can so many glorious Triumphs boast,
Who ne'er gave Ground, ne'er yet a Battel lost;
Will you, brave Men, from Danger turn you Face?
Will you your Honour stain, your Arms disgrace?
Shall the Fanatick, Impious Troops of Vere
From your inglorious Brows your Laurels tear?
Shall Hereticks your Altars over-turn?
Shall sacred Rome our Want of Courage mourn?
You certain chuse, uncertain Death to shun,
To sure Destruction you from Danger run.
299
You there will meet inevitable Fate.
But thro' the Britons you may cut your way,
Your Swords may turn the Fortune of the Day.
Rally, Iberians, and the Foe sustain,
Protect your Altars, and the Rights of Spain.
Let not the Foe insult with haughty Pride
Iberia's Captains, and her Arms deride.
These Words reviv'd the Spaniards Martial Flame,
Till the Victorious Britons nearer came:
Whose threat'ning Terrors, when the Spaniards view'd,
Their Courage languish'd, and their Fear renew'd.
When mighty Vere appear'd, the dreadful Sight
Fix'd their Disorder, and improv'd their Fright.
Th'advancing Conqu'ror's Weapon to elude,
They spur their Steeds, and plunge amidst the Flood.
To Fate's Embraces they for Safety fly,
Rather than stand the Briton, chuse to die.
Their Faces from the dreadful Foe to hide,
They leap among the Waves, and dive beneath the Tide.
A certain Death to Danger they prefer,
For Man no Passion feels, so bold as Fear.
Till the Victorious Britons nearer came:
Whose threat'ning Terrors, when the Spaniards view'd,
Their Courage languish'd, and their Fear renew'd.
When mighty Vere appear'd, the dreadful Sight
Fix'd their Disorder, and improv'd their Fright.
Th'advancing Conqu'ror's Weapon to elude,
They spur their Steeds, and plunge amidst the Flood.
To Fate's Embraces they for Safety fly,
Rather than stand the Briton, chuse to die.
Their Faces from the dreadful Foe to hide,
They leap among the Waves, and dive beneath the Tide.
A certain Death to Danger they prefer,
For Man no Passion feels, so bold as Fear.
As tim'rous Deer, which thro' the Forrest fly,
Perceiving by his Roar a Lyon nigh,
Double their Speed, and to their airy Feet,
Wing'd with their Fear, their Safety they commit:
The Herd, if in their Flight by Chance withstood
By some extended Lake, or swelling Flood,
List'ning and trembling on the Margin stand,
Doubtful, if they should trust the Flood or Land.
But soon the roaring Foe in Sight appears,
Confirms their Terror, and exalts their Fears.
Soon does his Presence their sad Doubt decide,
The Lion to escape, they chuse the Tide.
Unnumber'd Troops, who thro' the Waters prest,
Did swell the River, and its Tide arrest.
Legia's encumber'd Billows did with Pain
The pond'rous Load of confluent War sustain.
So thick the Cuirasiers on Legia rode,
They seem'd an Iron Bridge across the Flood.
No flying Warriors Looks did ever wear
Such various Shapes of Horror and Despair.
No wond'ring Stream such floating Ruin bore,
Such spoils, such ignominious Rout before.
Ne'er did the Rhine, the Tiber, or the Po,
The Granicus, or red Scamander show,
So exquisite a Scene of Military Woe.
Perceiving by his Roar a Lyon nigh,
Double their Speed, and to their airy Feet,
Wing'd with their Fear, their Safety they commit:
The Herd, if in their Flight by Chance withstood
By some extended Lake, or swelling Flood,
300
Doubtful, if they should trust the Flood or Land.
But soon the roaring Foe in Sight appears,
Confirms their Terror, and exalts their Fears.
Soon does his Presence their sad Doubt decide,
The Lion to escape, they chuse the Tide.
Unnumber'd Troops, who thro' the Waters prest,
Did swell the River, and its Tide arrest.
Legia's encumber'd Billows did with Pain
The pond'rous Load of confluent War sustain.
So thick the Cuirasiers on Legia rode,
They seem'd an Iron Bridge across the Flood.
No flying Warriors Looks did ever wear
Such various Shapes of Horror and Despair.
No wond'ring Stream such floating Ruin bore,
Such spoils, such ignominious Rout before.
Ne'er did the Rhine, the Tiber, or the Po,
The Granicus, or red Scamander show,
So exquisite a Scene of Military Woe.
The hindmost Coursers on the foremost rode,
And paw'd and press'd them with their fatal Load.
Rising and flouncing, they their Vigor spend,
And for the Shore with fruitless Toil contend.
The wearied Coursers with their Riders sink,
And Legia's fatal waves together drink.
The shreiking Warriors did each other throng,
And sinking in the Flood, around each other clung.
Here on the Waves dismounted Horsemen ride,
Appear a while, then sink beneath the Tide.
Their lab'ring Coursers there at Distance groan,
Whit'ning the Billows with a Foam unknown.
Their eager Eyes and lab'ring Sinews strain,
And strive to gain the Shore with fruitless Pain.
And paw'd and press'd them with their fatal Load.
Rising and flouncing, they their Vigor spend,
And for the Shore with fruitless Toil contend.
The wearied Coursers with their Riders sink,
And Legia's fatal waves together drink.
The shreiking Warriors did each other throng,
And sinking in the Flood, around each other clung.
Here on the Waves dismounted Horsemen ride,
Appear a while, then sink beneath the Tide.
301
Whit'ning the Billows with a Foam unknown.
Their eager Eyes and lab'ring Sinews strain,
And strive to gain the Shore with fruitless Pain.
Varex his Courser with long Labour spent
Beneath the Flood his sinking to prevent,
With eager Arms clasp'd young Lozano round,
Fatal Embrace! together both are drown'd.
There noble Scipio, there Spinella sink,
One in the midst, one at the River's brink.
Alvarez thrice did from the Bottom rise,
And catch'd the neighb'ring Land with eager Eyes:
But hopeless e'er to gain the adverse Shore,
Once more the Warrior sunk, and rose no more.
Cortez, tho' now a famous Chief by Land,
Once in th'Iberian Navy had Command:
But twice escaping Shipwreck on the Main,
Had vow'd he ne'er would trust the Waves again.
Now sinking midst the Flood the Warrior cry'd,
In vain to shun his Fate has Cortez try'd.
Beneath the Flood his sinking to prevent,
With eager Arms clasp'd young Lozano round,
Fatal Embrace! together both are drown'd.
There noble Scipio, there Spinella sink,
One in the midst, one at the River's brink.
Alvarez thrice did from the Bottom rise,
And catch'd the neighb'ring Land with eager Eyes:
But hopeless e'er to gain the adverse Shore,
Once more the Warrior sunk, and rose no more.
Cortez, tho' now a famous Chief by Land,
Once in th'Iberian Navy had Command:
But twice escaping Shipwreck on the Main,
Had vow'd he ne'er would trust the Waves again.
Now sinking midst the Flood the Warrior cry'd,
In vain to shun his Fate has Cortez try'd.
Carrero sunk o'er-turn'd amidst the Crowd,
But rose, and reach'd the Surface of the Flood.
Oran his Friend, by chance was swimming nigh;
The drowning Warrior fix'd on Oran's Thigh.
Save me, my Friend, he cry'd with piteous Look;
Oran much griev'd, with his sharp Faulchion struck
His Hand off at the Wrist, and let him drown;
He lost Carrero's Life, to save his own.
Gonzaga's Steed fatigu'd, and out of Breath,
The Chief with Horror saw a approaching Death:
Then lifting up his Eyes, the Warrior view'd
A Rainbow shining in an adverse Cloud,
He struck his troubled Breast, he deeply sigh'd,
And in despairing Accents thus he cry'd.
Why does this Rain bow mock Gonzaga's Fate,
And greater Anguish in my Soul create?
What profits me this Fœd'ral, Heav'nly Bow,
Which says the World no Deluge more shall know,
While Legia's Waters o'er Gonzaga flow?
He said. The weary Courser's Vigor spent,
He, and his Rider to the Bottom went.
But rose, and reach'd the Surface of the Flood.
Oran his Friend, by chance was swimming nigh;
The drowning Warrior fix'd on Oran's Thigh.
Save me, my Friend, he cry'd with piteous Look;
Oran much griev'd, with his sharp Faulchion struck
His Hand off at the Wrist, and let him drown;
He lost Carrero's Life, to save his own.
302
The Chief with Horror saw a approaching Death:
Then lifting up his Eyes, the Warrior view'd
A Rainbow shining in an adverse Cloud,
He struck his troubled Breast, he deeply sigh'd,
And in despairing Accents thus he cry'd.
Why does this Rain bow mock Gonzaga's Fate,
And greater Anguish in my Soul create?
What profits me this Fœd'ral, Heav'nly Bow,
Which says the World no Deluge more shall know,
While Legia's Waters o'er Gonzaga flow?
He said. The weary Courser's Vigor spent,
He, and his Rider to the Bottom went.
What an amazing Sight, what dreadful Cries
From sinking Warriors, to the Clouds arise?
Horror attended with its Train of Fears,
In all his ghasty Shapes, and all his Pomp appears.
Triumphant Fate does on the Billows ride,
And o'er the Spaniard whelms the fatal Tide.
Legia did such a dismal Aspect wear
Of wild Confusion, Ruin and Despair,
That Legia's Story will a Place obtain,
Next to the Wonders of the famous Main,
Where the Ægyptian King's presumptuous Host
Were in the Waves, like faithless Philip's lost.
Prodigious Numbers in their Flight expire,
Or by the Water, or the Britons Fire,
Who rang'd upon the Banks in Battel stood,
And sent their fatal Vollies midst the Flood.
Tempests of Death thick on the Spaniard flew,
And Wounds from Land the swimming Troops pursue.
Against them diff'rent Elements conspire,
Those who escape the Water, die by Fire.
From sinking Warriors, to the Clouds arise?
Horror attended with its Train of Fears,
In all his ghasty Shapes, and all his Pomp appears.
Triumphant Fate does on the Billows ride,
And o'er the Spaniard whelms the fatal Tide.
Legia did such a dismal Aspect wear
Of wild Confusion, Ruin and Despair,
That Legia's Story will a Place obtain,
Next to the Wonders of the famous Main,
Where the Ægyptian King's presumptuous Host
Were in the Waves, like faithless Philip's lost.
Prodigious Numbers in their Flight expire,
Or by the Water, or the Britons Fire,
Who rang'd upon the Banks in Battel stood,
And sent their fatal Vollies midst the Flood.
303
And Wounds from Land the swimming Troops pursue.
Against them diff'rent Elements conspire,
Those who escape the Water, die by Fire.
Mean time Mauritius with his valiant Band,
Charg'd the Brigades, where Mansfelt did Command:
The Belgian Prince did wond'rous Courage show,
Sprung thro' the Ranks, and plung'd amidst the Foe.
Onward he flew with reeking Slaughter red,
And thick in bloody Heaps th'Iberian Cohorts laid.
Howling Distress, inexorable Fate,
And Desolation on his Arms did wait.
Nuno, and Phœnix on the Belgick Plain,
Lay luckless Warriors, by his Weapons slain.
Campo and Villa, who his Course withstood,
Stretch'd wounded on the Sand, and welter'd in their Blood.
Este advanc'd, the Hero to repel,
But to the Ground, his Neck half sever'd, fell.
Farneze rush'd in, a Chief of great Renown,
To save brave Este's Life, but lost his own.
Great Numbers more by the fam'd Belgian slain,
Did with their ebbing Blood the Field distain.
Charg'd the Brigades, where Mansfelt did Command:
The Belgian Prince did wond'rous Courage show,
Sprung thro' the Ranks, and plung'd amidst the Foe.
Onward he flew with reeking Slaughter red,
And thick in bloody Heaps th'Iberian Cohorts laid.
Howling Distress, inexorable Fate,
And Desolation on his Arms did wait.
Nuno, and Phœnix on the Belgick Plain,
Lay luckless Warriors, by his Weapons slain.
Campo and Villa, who his Course withstood,
Stretch'd wounded on the Sand, and welter'd in their Blood.
Este advanc'd, the Hero to repel,
But to the Ground, his Neck half sever'd, fell.
Farneze rush'd in, a Chief of great Renown,
To save brave Este's Life, but lost his own.
Great Numbers more by the fam'd Belgian slain,
Did with their ebbing Blood the Field distain.
The valiant Mansfelt at the Sight enrag'd,
Brought up his Battel, and the Prince engag'd.
Hence did a fierce and bloody Strife arise,
Distracting Uproar, and amazing Cries,
Rung thro' the Hills, and vex'd th'ecchoing Skies.
Hollock and Solms with Dust and Blood distain'd,
By their brave Deeds immortal Honour gain'd.
Intrepid Loick and the young Nassau,
Did, worthy of their Birth, great Courage show,
As now they charg'd, and now repell'd the Foe.
Ernest Romera, Bevart Soto slew,
And Goran's Lance pierc'd proud Camillo thro'.
Brought up his Battel, and the Prince engag'd.
Hence did a fierce and bloody Strife arise,
Distracting Uproar, and amazing Cries,
Rung thro' the Hills, and vex'd th'ecchoing Skies.
304
By their brave Deeds immortal Honour gain'd.
Intrepid Loick and the young Nassau,
Did, worthy of their Birth, great Courage show,
As now they charg'd, and now repell'd the Foe.
Ernest Romera, Bevart Soto slew,
And Goran's Lance pierc'd proud Camillo thro'.
Now Troop to Troop, Warrior to Warrior stood,
With Swords uplifted, and deform'd with Blood.
On either side prodigious Numbers kill'd
Lay in their Gore, extended o'er the Field.
With like Success each other they assail'd,
The Spaniard now, the Belgian now prevail'd.
An undetermin'd Fight they long maintain'd,
And by alternate Fate the Battel lost and gain'd.
So when beneath the Line a Hurricane
Does with airial War embroil the Main;
The adverse Winds their Rage in Combate spend,
And for the Empire of the Deep contend.
Victors by turns the Ocean they controul,
By turns the Billows this, and that way roll.
The doubtful Conflict hangs in even Scales,
And neither Foe is vanquish'd, or prevails.
At length when Mansfelt saw that Albert's Host
Had to Victorious Vere the Battel lost;
He did with Indignation yield the Day,
And from the conqu'ring Belgian flew enrag'd away.
With Swords uplifted, and deform'd with Blood.
On either side prodigious Numbers kill'd
Lay in their Gore, extended o'er the Field.
With like Success each other they assail'd,
The Spaniard now, the Belgian now prevail'd.
An undetermin'd Fight they long maintain'd,
And by alternate Fate the Battel lost and gain'd.
So when beneath the Line a Hurricane
Does with airial War embroil the Main;
The adverse Winds their Rage in Combate spend,
And for the Empire of the Deep contend.
Victors by turns the Ocean they controul,
By turns the Billows this, and that way roll.
The doubtful Conflict hangs in even Scales,
And neither Foe is vanquish'd, or prevails.
At length when Mansfelt saw that Albert's Host
Had to Victorious Vere the Battel lost;
He did with Indignation yield the Day,
And from the conqu'ring Belgian flew enrag'd away.
305
When Albert's Horse were driven from the Field,
His Foot disheart'ned, soon resolv'd to yield.
Th'unequal War not able to sustain,
They threw their Arms and Ensigns on the Plain.
Numerous Brigades dismay'd, and sunk with Fear,
Implor'd the British Chiefs their Lives to spare,
And cry'd for Mercy to Victorious Vere.
The Noble Conqu'ror gave the gracious Word,
And bad his valiant Britons spare the Sword.
O! had the Horse Great Vere's Compassion known,
Not thought his Temper cruel, like their own,
They might his Mercy, like the Foot, have try'd,
And not have perish'd in the fatal Tide.
Th'Iberian Foot disarm'd, were Captives led;
The Victors scarce their Number did exceed.
Thus as I could I've sung the Great Campaign,
His Foot disheart'ned, soon resolv'd to yield.
Th'unequal War not able to sustain,
They threw their Arms and Ensigns on the Plain.
Numerous Brigades dismay'd, and sunk with Fear,
Implor'd the British Chiefs their Lives to spare,
And cry'd for Mercy to Victorious Vere.
The Noble Conqu'ror gave the gracious Word,
And bad his valiant Britons spare the Sword.
O! had the Horse Great Vere's Compassion known,
Not thought his Temper cruel, like their own,
They might his Mercy, like the Foot, have try'd,
And not have perish'd in the fatal Tide.
Th'Iberian Foot disarm'd, were Captives led;
The Victors scarce their Number did exceed.
An Army taken, and an Army slain;
One of the Glorious Wonders of Eliza's Reign.
The End of the Tenth Book.
| Eliza | |