A Congratulatory Poem To His Grace the Duke of Marlborough on His Glorious Success and Victories over the French and Bavarians [by John Smallwood] |
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 | A Congratulatory Poem To His Grace the Duke of Marlborough |  |
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A Congratulatory Poem To His GRACE the DUKE of MARLBOROUGH,
ON His Glorious Success and Victories over the French and Bavarians.
12. August. 1704.
Brave General, whose Conduct in the Field,
Where-e'er You come, does Sprouting Lawrels yield.
Fame Imps her Wings that she may faster fly,
To tell the World of Your Great Victory.
Astonish'd Nations startle at the Deed,
To find Success so to Success succeed.
One Glorious Action's Joy we scarce did feel
E'er a more Glorious follows at the Heel;
As if Kind Fates came crowding faster on,
And jogg'd Time's Sands that they might swifter run,
To have the Mighty Business sooner done.
Auspicious Constellations at Your Birth
Sang in their Spheres, that You should free the Earth
From those Oppressions that made Mortals Groan
Beneath the Weight of an Ambitious Tyrant's Throne,
Who Seas of Blood has shed, and (as 'tis said)
Boasts that he War but for his Glory made,
Laugh'd to see around him Smoaking Towns
Laid waste with Fire, and to Distribute Crowns
Was all his Aim, preparing Chains to have
Europe One Day, as he suppos'd, his Slave;
But You, like Jove, when Phaeton fir'd the World,
Have on his Head Your Martial Thunder hurl'd,
And check'd the Bold Aspirer in his Way,
Making the Torrent of Ambition stay.
Methinks we see You Brave in Arms Advance,
And push your Threatning Sword through Haughty France,
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With bloody Omens red and, Cyrus's Beams,
To carry swift Destruction to a Foe,
VVhose Armies You with Ease can overthrow.
A shaken Empire's by Your Valour sav'd,
And Death in all its Shapes You have out-brav'd.
True English Hero of the Ancient Race,
With whom You bravely keep an equal Pace,
Inspire a Courage into those You lead
To Rush o'er Swords, and Conquer without dread,
Or fear of Dying, for their Countries good
At Azencourt: So our Brave VVarriours stood,
When France their Anger Mourn'd in Tears of Blood.
Go on, Brave Man, Revive the English Name,
And for it Live in the Records of Fame
To After-Ages, till Time is no more.
But Ah! To tell Your VVorth Words are but Poor;
Imagination must supply the rest,
VVhilst Thoughts croud on that cannot be exprest.
Thou art the VVorthy Favourite of that Star
Which guides our Sphere, and Influences War;
Which by Her Power and Wisdom is upheld,
Whilst shelter'd Nations fight behind Her Shield.
May Cæsar (as he has) Your VVorth survey,
And add more Honours to those he would pay,
Whilst You Reap Lawrels to adorn His Brows,
And once again the Roman Eagle Rouze,
To take her flight as free, as unconfin'd,
As Eagles make their VVay upon the Wind;
O'er Italy and Spain to spread Her Wings,
And as of old Rule Senators and Kings.
The Mighty Blow You gave has set Her free,
Replum'd her Wings and giv'n her Scope to flee;
To Soar above the Lillies that wou'd rise,
And wet their Tops in Troubl'd Cloudy Skies.
More Victories, Brave Man, are yet behind,
Fate Teems with Mighty Things, and will be kind;
Fortune, though Fickle, keeps with her You VVord,
And seems to Chain herself unto Your Sword.
Propitious may she be, and bear You far
In bold Exploits to end a Ling'ring VVar;
That so our Foes to Reason being brought,
A Peace may come which by Just VVar is sought.
| A Congratulatory Poem To His Grace the Duke of Marlborough | |