University of Virginia Library

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847

TO THE KING, On the Taking of NAMURE.

IRREGULAR ODE.

I.

Of Arms and War my Muse aspires to Sing,
And strike the Lyre upon an untry'd String:
New Fire informs my Soul, unfelt before;
And, on new Wings, to Heights unknown I soar.
O Pow'r unseen! by whose Resistless Force
Compell'd, I take this Flight, direct my Course:
For Fancy, wild and pathless Ways will chuse,
Which Judgment, rarely, or with Pain, pursues.

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848

Say, Sacred Nymph, whence this great Change proceeds;
Why scorns the lowly Swain his Oaten Reeds,
Daring aloud to strike the Sounding Lyre,
And sing Heroick Deeds;
Neglecting Flames of Love, for Martial Fire?

II.

William, alone, my Feeble Voice can raise;
What Voice so weak, that cannot sing his Praise!
The listning World each Whisper will befriend
That breaths his Name, and ev'ry Ear attend.
The hov'ring Winds on downy Wings shall wait around,
And catch, and waft to Foreign Lands, the flying Sound.
Ev'n I will in his Praise be heard;
For by his Name my Verse shall be preferr'd.
Born like a Lark upon this Eagles Wing,
High as the Spheres, I will his Triumph sing;

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849

High as the Head of Fame; Fame, whose exalted Size,
From the deep Vale extends, up to the vaulted Skies :
A thousand talking Tongues the Monster bears,
A thousand waking Eyes, and ever open Ears;
Hourly she stalks, with Huge Gigantick Pace,
Measu'ring the Globe, like Time, with constant Race:
Yet shall she stay, and bend to William's Praise:
Of Him, her thousand Ears shall hear triumphant Lays,
Of Him, her Tongues shall talk, on Him her Eyes shall gaze.

III.

But lo, a Change astonishing my Eyes!
And all around, behold new Objects rise!
What Forms are these I see? and whence?
Beings substantial? or does Air condense,

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850

To cloath in visionary Shape my various Thought?
Are these by Fancy wrought!
Can strong Idea's strike so deep the Sense!
O sacred Poesie! O boundless Power!
What Wonders dost thou trace, what hidden Worlds explore.
Thro' Seas, Earth, Air, and the wide circling Sky,
What is not sought and seen, by thy all-piercing Eye!

IV.

'Twas now, when flow'ry Lawns the Prospect made,
And flowing Brooks beneath a Forest's shade;
A Lowing Heifer, Loveliest of the Herd,
Stood feeding by; while two fierce Bulls prepar'd
Their Armed Heads for Fight; by Fate of War, to prove
The Victor worthy of the Fair Ones Love.

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851

Unthought Presage, of what met next my view!
For soon the shady Scene withdrew.
And now, for Woods, and Fields, and springing Flowr's;
Behold a Town arise, Bulwark'd with Walls, and lofty Tow'rs!
Two Rival Armies all the Plain o'erspread,
Each in Battalia rang'd, and shining Arms array'd:
With eager Eyes, beholding both from far,
Namure, the Prize and Mistress of the War.

V.

Now, Thirst of Conquest, and Immortal Fame,
Does ev'ry Chief and Soldier's Heart inflame.
Defensive Arms, the Gallick Forces bear;
While Hardy Britons for the Storm prepare:
For Fortune had with partial Hand, before
Resign'd the Rule to Gallia's Pow'r.
High on a Rock the mighty Fortress stands,
Founded by Fate; and wrought by Nature's Hands.

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852

A wond'rous Task it is th'Ascent to gain,
Thro' craggy Cliffs, that strike the Sight with Pain,
And nod impending Terrors o'er the Plain.
To this, what Dangers Men can add, by Force, or Skill,
(And great is Humane Force and Wit, in Ill)
Are join'd; on ev'ry side, wide gaping Engines wait,
Teeming with Fire, and big with certain Fate;
Ready to hurl Destruction from above,
In dreadful Roar, mocking the Wrath of Jove.
Thus fearful, does the Face of adverse Pow'r appear;
But British Forces are unus'd to fear:
Tho' thus oppos'd, they might, if William were not there.

VI.

But hark, the Voice of War! Behold the Storm begin!
The Trumpets Clangor, speaks in loud Alarms,

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853

Mingling shrill Notes, with dreadful Din
Of Cannons burst, and ratling clash of Arms.
Clamours from Earth to Heaven, from Heav'n to Earth rebound,
Distinction, in promiscuous Noise is drown'd,
And Echo lost in one continu'd Sound.
Torrents of Fire from Brazen Mouths are sent,
Follow'd by Peals, as if each Pole were rent;
Such Flames the Gulphs of Tartarus disgorge,
So vaulted Ætna roars from Vulcan's Forge;
Such were the Peals from thence, such the vast Blaze that broke,
Redning with horrid Gloom, the dusky Smoke,
When the huge Cyclops did with molding Thunder sweat,
And Massive Bolts on repercussive Anvils beat.

VII.

Amidst this Rage, behold, where William stands,
Undaunted, Undismay'd!

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854

With Face serene, dispensing dread Commands;
Which heard with Awe, are with Delight obey'd.
A thousand fiery Deaths around him fly;
And burning Balls hiss harmless by:
For ev'ry Fire his sacred Head must spare,
Nor dares the Lightning touch the Lawrels there.

VIII.

Now many a wounded Briton feels the Rage
Of Missive Fires that fester in each Limb,
Which dire Revenge alone has Pow'r t'asswage;
Revenge makes Danger dreadless seem.
And now, with desp'rate Force, and fresh Attack,
Through obvious Deaths, resistless way they make;
Raising high Piles of Earth, and heap on heap they lay,
And then ascend; resembling thus (as far
As Race of Men inferior, may)
The fam'd Gigantick War.

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855

When those tall Sons of Earth, did Heav'n aspire;
(A Brave, but impious Fire!)
Uprooting Hills, with most stupendous Hale,
To form the High and Dreadful Scale.
The Gods, with Horrour and Amaze, look'd down,
Beholding Rocks from their firm Basis rent;
Mountain on Mountain thrown,
With threatning hurl, that shook th'Æthereal Firmament!
Th'Attempt, did Fear in Heav'n create;
Ev'n Jove desponding sate,
'Till Mars with all his Force collected, stood,
And pour'd whole War on the rebellious Brood;
Who tumbling Headlong from th'Empyreal Skies,
O'erwhelm'd those Hills, by which they thought to rise.
Mars, on the Gods did then his Aid bestow,
And now in Godlike William storms, with equal Force below.

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856

X.

Hark, the triumphant Shouts, from every Voice!
The Skies with Acclamations Ring!
Hark, how around, the Hills rejoice,
And Rocks, reflected Io's Sing!

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857

Hautboys and Fifes and Trumpets join'd,
Heroick Harmony prepare,
And charm to Silence every Wind,
And glad the late Tormented Air.
Far, is the sound of Martial Musick spread,
Ech'oing thro' all the Gallick Host,
Whose numerous Troops the dreadful Storm survey'd:
But they with Wonder, or with Awe, dismay'd,
Unmov'd beheld the Fortress lost.
William, their num'rous Troops with Terror fill'd,
Such wondrous Charms, can Godlike Valour show!
Not the wing'd Perseus, with Petrifick Shield
Of Gorgon's Head, to more amazement charm'd his Foe.
Nor, when on soaring Horse he flew, to aid
And save from Monsters Rage, the Beauteous Maid;

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858

Or more Heroick was the Deed;
Or she to surer Chains decreed,
Then was Namure; 'till now by William freed.