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The lingering remnant with unusual tide;
Then rolling back, in his capacious lap
Ingulfs their whole militia, quick immersed.
So when some sweltering travellers retire
To leafy shades, near the cool sunless verge
Of Paraba, Brazilian stream, her tail
Of vast extension, from her watry den
A grisly Hydra suddenly shoots forth
Insidious, and with curl'd en venom'd train
Embracing horridly, at once the crew
Into the river whirls; the' unweeting prey
Entwisted roars, the affrighted flood rebounds.

Nor did the British squadrons now surcease
To gall their foes, o'erwhelm'd: full many felt
In the moist element a scorching death,
Pierced sinking: shrouded in a dusky cloud
The current flows, with livid missive flames
Boiling, as once Pergamean Xanthus boil'd,
Inflamed by Vulcan, when the’ swift-footed son
Of Peleus to his baleful banks pursued
The straggling Trojans: nor less eager drove
Victorious Churchill his desponding foes
Into the deep immense, that many a league
Impurpled ran, with gushing gore distain d.

Thus the experienced valour of one man, Mighty in conflict, rescued harass'd powers From ruin impendent, and the’ afflicted throne Imperial, that once lorded o'er the world, Sustain'd. With prudent stay he long deferred The rough contention, nor would deign to rout An host disparted; when, in union firm Embodied, they advanced, collecting all Their strength, and worthy seem'd to be subdued, He, the proud boasters sent, with stern assault,

Down to the realms of Night. The British souls
(A lamentable race!) that ceased to breathe,
On Landen-plains, this heavenly gladsome air,
Exult to see the crowding ghosts descend
Unnumber'd; well avenged, they quit the cares
Of mortal life, and drink the oblivious lake.
Not so the new inhabitants ; they roam
Erroneous and disconsolate, themselves
Accusing and their chiefs, improvident
Of military chance; when lo! they see
Through the dun mist, in blooming beauty fresh,
Two lovely youths that amicably walk'd
O’erverdant meads, and pleased, perhaps, revolved
Anna's late conquests; one to empire born,
Egregious Prince', whose manly childhood show'd
His mingled parents, and portended joy
Unspeakable; thou, his associate dear 3
Once in this world, nor now by Fate disjoin'd,
Had thy presiding star propitious shone,
Shouldst Churchill be! but Heaven severe,cut short
Their springing years, nor would this isle should

boast
Gifts so important! Them the Gallic shades
Surveying, read in either radiant look
Marks of excessive dignity and grace,
Delighted; till, in one, their curious eye
Discerns their great subduer's awful mien
And corresponding features fair; to them
Confusion: straight the airy phantoms fleet
With headlong haste, and dread a new pursuit:
The image pleased with joy paternal smiles.

Enough, O Muse! the sadly-pleasing theme Leave, with these dark abodes; and reascend

2. Duke of Gloucester. Marquis of Blandford.

3

To breathe the upper air, where triumphs wait
The

conqueror, and saved nations' joint acclaim.
Hark, how the cannon, inoffensive now,
Gives signs of gratulation! struggling crowds
From every city flow; with ardent gaze
Fix'd, they behold the British Guide, of sight
Insatiate; whilst his great redeeming hand
Each prince affects to touch respectful. See
How Prussia's king transported entertains
His mighty guest! to him the royal pledge,
Hope of his realm, commits, (with better fate
Than to the Trojan chief Evander gave
Unhappy Pallas) and entreats to show
The skill and rudiments austere of war.
See, with what joy him Leopold declares
His great deliverer; and courts to’ accept
Of titles, with superior modesty
Better refused. Meanwhile, the haughty king
Far humbler thoughts now learns: despair and fear
Now first he feels: his laurels all at once
Torn from his aged head in life's extreme,
Distract his soul; nor can great Boileau's harp
Of various-sounding wire, best taught to calm
Whatever passion, and exalt the soul
With highest strains, his languid spirits cheer:
Rage, shame, and grief, alternate in his breast.

But who can tell what pangs, whatsharp remorse, Torment the Boian prince? From native soil Exiled by fate, torn from the dear embrace Of weeping consort, and deprived the sight Of his young guiltless progeny, he seeks Inglorious shelter in an alien land: Deplorable! but that his mind averse To right, and insincere, would violate

His plighted faith. Why did he not accept
Friendly composure offer’d? or well weigh
With whom he must contend? encountering fierce
The Solymean Sultan, he o'erthrew
His moony troops, returning bravely smear'd
With Paynim blood diffused: nor did the Gaul
Not find him once a baleful foe: but when
Of counsel rash new measures he pursues,
Unhappy Prince! (no more a prince) he sees
Too late his error, forced to’ implore relief
Of him he once defied. O destitute
Of hope, unpitied; thou shouldst first have thought
Of persevering stedfast; now upbraid
Thy own inconstant ill-aspiring heart. ·
Lo, how the Noric plains through thy default
Rise billy, with large piles of slaughter'd knights.
Best men! that warred still firmly for their prince,
Though faithless; and unshaken duty show'd,
Worthy of better end. Where cities stood,
Well-fenced and numerous, desolation reigns
And emptiness: dismay'd, unfed, unhoused,
The widow and the orphan stroll around
The desert wide; with oft-retorted eye
They view the gaping walls and poor

remains
Of mansions once their own, (now loathsome haunts
Of birds obscene) bewailing loud the loss
Of spouse, or sire, or son, ere manly prime,
Slain in sad conflict, and complain of Fate
As partial and too rigorous, nor find
Where to retire themselves, or where appease
The' afflictive keen desire of food, exposed
To winds, and storms, and jaws of savage beasts.

Thrice happy Albion ! from the world disjoin'd By Heaven propitious, blissful seat of peace !

Learn from thy neighbours’ miseries to prize
Thy welfare. Crown'd with Nature's choicest gifts,
Remote thou hear'st the dire effect of war,
Depopulation, void alone of fear
And peril, whilst the dismal symphony
Of drums and clarions other realms annoys.
The' Iberian sceptre undecided, here
Engages mighty hosts in wasteful strife:
From different climes the flower of youth descends
Down to the Lusitanian vales, resolved
With utmost hazard to enthrone their prince,
Gallic or Austrian: havoc dire ensues
And wild uproar: the natives, dubious whom
They must obey, in consternation wait,
Till rigid Conquest will pronounce their liege.
Nor is the brazen voice of War unheard
On the mild Latian shore. What sighs and tears
Hath Eugene caused! how

widows curse
His cleaving falchion! fertile soil in vain,
What do thy pastures or thy vines avail,
Best boon of Heaven! or huge Taburnus, cloth'd
With olives, when the cruel battle mows
The planters with their harvest immature ?
See with what outrage from the frosty North
The early-valiant Swede draws forth his wings
In battailous array, while Volga's stream
Sends opposite, in shaggy armour clad,
Her borderers ! on mutual slaughter bent
They rend their countries. How is Poland vex’d
With civil broils, while two elected kings
Contend for sway? Unhappy nation! left
Thus free of choice. The English undisturb’d
With such sad privilege, submiss obey [due,
Whom Heaven ordains supreme; with reverence

many

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