38

Happy who never trust a stranger's will
Whose friendship's in his interest understood;
Since money given but tempts him to be ill,
When power is too remote to make him good.

39

Till now, alone the mighty nations strove;

The rest at gaze without the lists did stand;
And threatening France, placed like a painted Jove,
Kept idle thunder in his lifted hand.

40

That eunuch guardian of rich Holland's trade
Who envies us what he wants power to enjoy,

Whose noiseful valour does no foe invade

And weak assistance will his friends destroy;

41

Offended that we fought without his leave,

He takes this time his secret hate to show; Which Charles does with a mind so calm receive As one that neither seeks nor shuns his foe.

42

With France to aid the Dutch the Danes unite;
France as their tyrant, Denmark as their slave;
But when with one three nations join to fight,
They silently confess that one more brave.

43

Lewis had chased the English from his shore,
But Charles the French as subjects does invite;
Would Heaven for each some Solomon restore,
Who by their mercy may decide their right!

44

Were subjects so but only by their choice

And not from birth did forced dominion take,
Our Prince alone would have the public voice
And all his neighbours' realms would deserts make.

War declared by France.

45

He without fear a dangerous war pursues,
Which without rashness he began before:
As honour made him first the danger choose,
So still he makes it good on virtue's score.

46

The doubled charge his subjects' love supplies,
Who in that bounty to themselves are kind:
So glad Egyptians see their Nilus rise

And in his plenty their abundance find.

47

Prince Rupert With equal power he does two chiefs create,

and Duke of

Albemarle sent to sea.

Two such as each seemed worthiest when alone; Each able to sustain a nation's fate,

Since both had found a greater in their own.

48

Both great in courage, conduct, and in fame,
Yet neither envious of the other's praise;
Their duty, faith, and interest too the same,
Like mighty partners, equally they raise.

49

The Prince long time had courted Fortune's love,
But once possessed did absolutely reign:

Thus with their Amazons the heroes strove,

And conquered first those beauties they would gain.

50

The Duke beheld, like Scipio, with disdain

That Carthage which he ruined rise once more, And shook aloft the fasces of the main

To fright those slaves with what they felt before.

51

Together to the watery camp they haste,

Whom matrons passing to their children show; Infants' first vows for them to Heaven are cast, And future people bless them as they goi.

i Future people. Examina infantium futurusque populus.'— PLIN. jun. in Pan. ad Traj. [c. 26.]

52

With them no riotous pomp nor Asian train
To infect a navy with their gaudy fears,
To make slow fights and victories but vain;
But war severely like itself appears.

53

Diffusive of themselves, where'er they pass,

They make that warmth in others they expect; Their valour works like bodies on a glass

And does its image on their men project.

54

Our fleet divides, and straight the Dutch appear,
In number and a famed commander bold:
The narrow seas can scarce their navy bear
Or crowded vessels can their soldiers hold.

55

The Duke, less numerous, but in courage more,
On wings of all the winds to combat flies;

His murdering guns a loud defiance roar
And bloody crosses on his flag-staffs rise.

56

Both furl their sails and strip them for the fight;
Their folded sheets dismiss the useless air;
The Elean plainsk could boast no nobler sight,
When struggling champions did their bodies bare.

57

Borne each by other in a distant line,

The sea-built forts in dreadful order move;
So vast the noise, as if not fleets did join,
But lands unfixed and floating nations strove1.

The Elean, &c. Where the Olympic games were celebrated. From Virgil: 'Credas innare revulsas Cycladas,' &c.—[Æn. viii. 691.]

Duke of Albemarle's battle,

first day.

58

Now passed, on either side they nimbly tack;
Both strive to intercept and guide the wind:
And in its eye more closely they come back
To finish all the deaths they left behind.

59

On high-raised decks the haughty Belgians ride,
Beneath whose shade our humble frigates go;
Such port the elephant bears, and so defied
By the rhinoceros, her unequal foe.

60

And as the build, so different is the fight;
Their mounting shot is on our sails designed:
Deep in their hulls our deadly bullets light
And through the yielding planks a passage find.

61

Our dreaded Admiral from far they threat,

Whose battered rigging their whole war receives; All bare, like some old oak which tempests beat, He stands, and sees below his scattered leaves.

62

Heroes of old when wounded shelter sought;
But he, who meets all danger with disdain,
Even in their face his ship to anchor brought
And steeple-high stood propped upon the main.

63

At this excess of courage all-amazed,

The foremost of his foes a while withdraw; With such respect in entered Rome they gazed Who on high chairs the god-like fathers saw.

64

And now as, where Patroclus' body lay,

Here Trojan chiefs advanced and there the Greek, Ours o'er the Duke their pious wings display And theirs the noblest spoils of Britain seek.

65

Meantime his busy mariners he hastes

His shattered sails with rigging to restore; And willing pines ascend his broken masts, Whose lofty heads rise higher than before

66

Straight to the Dutch he turns his dreadful prow,
More fierce the important quarrel to decide:
Like swans in long array his vessels show,
Whose crests advancing do the waves divide.

67

They charge, recharge, and all along the sea
They drive and squander the huge Belgian fleet;
Berkeley alone, who nearest danger lay,

Did a like fate with lost Creusa meet.

68

The night comes on, we eager to pursue

The combat still and they ashamed to leave:
Till the last streaks of dying day withdrew
And doubtful moonlight did our rage deceive.

69

In the English fleet each ship resounds with joy
And loud applause of their great leader's fame;
In fiery dreams the Dutch they still destroy,
And slumbering smile at the imagined flame.

70

Not so the Holland fleet, who, tired and done, Stretched on their decks like weary oxen lie; Faint sweats all down their mighty members run, Vast bulks, which little souls but ill supply.

71

In dreams they fearful precipices tread,

Or shipwracked labour to some distant shore,

Or in dark churches walk among the dead;

They wake with horror and dare sleep no more.