HEN now the bufinefs of the field is o'er,
The trumpets fl ep, and cannons cease to roar, When every difinal echo is decay`d,
And all the thunder of the battle laid;
Attend, aufpicious prince; and let the Muse
In humble accents milder thoughts infufe.
Others, in bold prophetic numbers skill'd,
Set thee in arms, and led thee to the field;
My Muse expecting on the British frand
Waits thy return, and welcomes thee to land:
She oft has feen thee preffing on the foe,
When Europe was concern'd in every blow;
But durft not in heroic ftrains rejoice;
The trumpets, drums, and cannons drown'd, her voice:
She faw the Boyne run thick with human gore,
And floating corps lie beating on the fhore;
She faw thee climb the banks, but try'd in vain
To trace her Hero through the duty plain,
When through the thick embattled lines he broke,
Now plung'd amidst the foes, now loft in clouds of fmoke.
O that fome Mufe, renown'd for lofty verse,
In daring numbers would thy toils rehearse !
Draw thee belov'd in peace, and fear'd in wars,
Inur'd to noon-day fweats, and mid-night cares!
But ftill the God-like man, by fome hard fate,
Receives the glory of his toils too late;
Too late the verse the mighty act fucceeds,
One age the hero, one the poet breeds.
A thousand years in full fucceffion ran,
Ere Virgil rais'd his voice, and fung the man
Who, driven by stress of fate, such dangers bore
On ftormy feas, and a difaftrous shore,
Before he fettled in the promis'd earth,
And gave the empire of the world its birth.
Troy long had found the Grecians bold and fierce,
Ere Homer mufter'd up their troops in verfe;
Long had Achilles quell'd the Trojans' luft,
And laid the labour of the gods in duft,
Before the towering Mufe began her flight,
And drew the hero raging in the fight,
Engag'd in tented fields and rolling floods,
Or flaughtering mortals, or a match for gods.
And here, perhaps, by fate's unerring doom,
Some mighty bard lies hid in years to come,
That shall in William's god-like acts engage,
And with his battles warm a future age,
Hibernian fields fhall here thy conquests show,
And Boyne be fung, when it has ceas'd to flow;
Here Gallic labours fhall advance thy fame,
And here Seneffe fhall wear another name.
Our late pofterity, with fecret dread,
Shall view thy battles, and with pleasure read
How, in the bloody field too near advanc'd,
The guiltless bullet on thy shoulder glanc'd.
The race of Nassau was by Heaven design'd
To curb the proud oppreffors of mankind.
To bind the tyrants of the earth with laws,
And fight in every injur'd nation's caufe,
The world's great patriots; they for juftice call;
And, as they favour, kingdoms rife or fall,
Our British youth, unus'd to rough alarms,
Careless of fame, and negligent of arms,
Had long forgot to meditate the foe,
And heard unwarm'd the martial trumpet blow;
But now infpir'd by thee, with fresh delight,
Their fwords they brandish, and require the fight,
Renew their ancient conquefts on the main,
And act their fathers' triumphs o'er again;
Fir'd, when they hear how Agincourt was ftrow'd
With Gallic corps, and Creffi fwam in blood,
With eager warmth they fight, ambitious all
Who first fhall ftorm the breach, or mount the wall.
In vain the thronging enemy by force
Would clear the ramparts, and repel their course;
They break through all, for William leads the way,
Where fires rage moft, and loudeft engines play.
Namur's late terrors and deftruction fhow,
What William, warm'd with juft revenge, can do:
Where once a thousand turrets rais'd on high
Their gilded fpires, and glitter'd in the sky,
An undistinguish'd heap of duft is found,
And all the pile lies fmoking on the ground.
His toils, for no ignoble ends defign'd,
Promote the common welfare of mankind;
No wild ambition moves, but Europe's fears,
The cries of orphans, and the widow's tears:
Oppret Religion gives the first alarms,
And injur`d Justice fets him in his arms;
His conquets freedom to the world afford,
And nations blefs the labours of his fword.
Thus when the forming Muse would copy forth
A perfect pattern of heroic worth,
She fets a man triumphant in the field,
O'er giants cloven down, and monsters kill'd,
Recking in blood, and fmear'd with duft and sweat,
Whilst angry gods confpire to make him great.
Thy navy rides on feas before unpreft,
And strikes a terror through the haughty East :
Algiers and Tunis from their fultry shore
With horror hear the British engines roar,
Fain from the neighbouring dangers would they run,
And with themfelves ftill nearer to the fun.
The Gallic fhips are in their ports confin'd,
Deny'd the common ufe of fea and wind,
Nor dare again the British ftrength engage;
Still they remember that deftructive rage
Which lately made their trembling hoft retire,
Stunn'd with the noife, and wrapt in fmoke and fire;
The waves with wide unnumber'd wrecks were ftrow'd,
And planks, and arms, and men, promifcuous flow'd.
Spain's numerous fleet, that perifh'd on our coaft,
Could fcarce a longer line of battle boast;
The winds could hardly drive them to their fate,
And all the ocean labour'd with the weight.
Where-e'er the waves in reftlefs errors roll,
The fea lies open now to either pole:
Now may we fafely use the northern gales,
And in the polar circle spread our fails:
Or, deep in fouthern climes, fecure from wars,
New lands explore, and fail by other ftars:
Fetch uncontrol'd each labour of the fun,
And make the product of the world our own.
At length, proud prince, ambitious Lewis, ceafe To plague mankind, and trouble Europe's peace; Think on the structures which thy pride has ras'd, On towns unpeopled, and on fields laid wafte ; Think on the heaps of corps and ftreams of blood, On every guilty plain and purple flood,
Thy arms have made; and cease an impious war,
Nor waste the lives intrufted to thy care.
Or, if no milder thought can calm thy mind,
Behold the great avenger of mankind,
See mighty Nassau through the battle ride,
And see thy subjects gasping by his fide:
Fain would the pious prince refuse th' alarm,
Fain would he check the fury of his arm;
But, when thy cruelties his thoughts engage,
The hero kindles with becoming rage,
Then countries ftol'n, and captives unreftor'd,
Give ftrength to every blow, and edge his sword.
Behold with what refiftlefs force he falls
On towns befieg'd, and thunders at thy walls!
Afk Villeroy, (for Villeroy beheld
The town furrender'd, and the treaty feal'd)
With what amazing strength the forts were won, Whilft the whole power of France ftood looking on.
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