Fired and transported with a theme so new,
Ten thousand wonders opening to my view
Shine forth at once; sieges and storms appear,
And wars and conquests fill the' important year;
Rivers of blood I see, and hills of slain,
An Iliad rising out of one Campaign.

The haughty Gaul beheld, with towering pride,
His ancient bounds enlarged on every side;
Pyrene's lofty barriers were subdued,
And in the midst of his wide empire stood;
Ausonia's states, the victor to restrain,
Opposed their Alps and Appennines in vain,
Nor found themselves with strength of rocks im-
Behind their everlasting hills secured; [mured,

The rising Danube its long race began,
And half its course through the new conquests ran;
Amazed and anxious for her sovereign's fates,
Germania trembled through a hundred states;
Great Leopold himself was seized with fear;
He gazed around, but saw no succour near;
He gazed, and half-abandon'd to despair
His hopes on Heaven, and confidence in prayer.
To Britain's Queen the nations turn their eyes;
On her resolves the western world relies,
Confiding still, amidst its dire alarms,

In Anna's councils and in Churchill's arms.
Thrice happy Britain! from the kingdoms rent,
To sit the guardian of the Continent!
That sees her bravest son advanced so high,
And flourishing so near her prince's eye:
Thy favourites grow not up by Fortune's sport,
Or from the crimes or follies of a court;
On the firm basis of desert they rise,

From long tried faith, and friendship's holy ties;

Their sovereign's well-distinguish'd smiles they

share,

Her ornaments in peace, her strength in war;
The nation thanks them with a public voice,
By showers of blessings Heaven approves their
choice;

Envy itself is dumb, in wonder lost,

And factions strive who shall applaud them most,
Soon as soft vernal breezes warm the sky,
Britannia's colours in the zephyrs fly:
Her chief already has his march begun,
Crossing the provinces himself had won,
Till the Moselle, appearing from afar,
Retards the progress of the moving war;
Delightful stream! had Nature bid her fall
In distant climes, far from the perjured Gaul;
But now a purchase to the sword she lies,
Her harvests for uncertain owners rise,
Each vineyard doubtful of its master grows,
And to the victor's bowl each vintage flows;
The discontented shades of slaughter'd hosts
That wander'd on her banks, her heroes' ghosts,
Hoped, when they saw Britannia's arms appear,
The vengeance due to their great deaths was near.

Our godlike leader, ere the stream he pass'd,
The mighty scheme of all his labours cast,
Forming the wondrous year within his thought;
His bosom glow'd with battles yet unfought.
The long laborious march he first surveys,
And joins the distant Danube to the Maese,
Between whose floods such pathless forests
Such mountains rise, so many rivers flow:
The toil looks lovely in the hero's eyes,
And danger serves but to enhance the prize.

grow,

Big with the fate of Europe, he renews
His dreadful course, and the proud foe pursues.
Infected by the burning Scorpion's heat,

The sultry gales round his chafed temples beat,
Till on the borders of the Mayne he finds
Defensive shadows and refreshing winds.
Our British youth, with inborn freedom bold,
Unnumber'd scenes of servitude behold,
Nations of slaves, with tyranny debased,
(Their Maker's image more than half defaced)
Hourly instructed, as they urge their toil,
To prize their queen, and love their native soil.
Still to the rising sun they take their way
Through clouds of dust, and gain upon the day:
When now the Neckar on its friendly coast
With cooling streams revives the fainting host,
That cheerfully his labours past forgets,
The midnight watches and the noonday heats.
O'er prostrate towns and palaces they pass,
(Now cover'd o'er with woods, and hid in grass)
Breathing revenge, whilst anger and disdain
Fire every breast, and boil in every vein.
Here shatter'd walls, like broken rocks, from far
Rise up in hideous views, the guilt of war,
Whilst here the vine o'er hills of ruin climbs,
Industrious to conceal great Bourbon's crimes.
At length the fame of England's hero drew
Eugenio to the glorious interview.

Great souls by instinct to each other turn,
Demand alliance, and in friendship burn;

A sudden friendship, while with stretch'd-out rays
They meet each other, mingling blaze with blaze.
Polish'd in courts, and harden'd in the field,
Renown'd for conquest, and in council skill'd,

Their courage dwells not in a troubled flood
Of mounting spirits and fermenting blood;
Lodged in the soul, with virtue over-ruled,
Inflamed by reason, and by reason cool'd,
In hours of peace content to be unknown,
And only in the field of battle shown:

To souls like these, in mutual friendship join'd,
Heaven dares intrust the cause of human-kind.
Britannia's graceful sons appear in arms,
Her harass'd troops the hero's presence warms,
Whilst the high hills and rivers all around
With thundering peals of British shouts resound:
Doubling their speed they march with fresh delight,
Eager for glory, and require the fight.

So the staunch hound the trembling deer pursues,
And smells his footsteps in the tainted dews,
The tedious track unpaying by degrees;
But when the scent comes warm in every breeze,
Fired at the near approach he shoots away
On his full stretch, and bears upon his prey.
The march concludes, the various realms are
past,

The' immortal Schellemberg appears at last:
Like hills the' aspiring ramparts rise on high,
Like valleys at their feet the trenches lie;
Batteries on batteries guard each fatal pass,
Threatening destruction; rows of hollow brass,
Tube behind tube, the dreadful entrance keep,
Whilst in their wombs ten thousand thunders sleep:
Great Churchill owns, charm'd with the glorious
sight,

His march o'erpaid by such a promis'd fight.

The western sun now shot a feeble ray, And faintly scatter'd the remains of day:

Evening approach'd; but, oh! what host of foes
Were never to behold that evening close!
Thickening their ranks, and wedged in firm array,
The close-compacted Britons win their way:
In vain the cannon their throng'd war defaced
With tracts of death, and laid the battle waste;
Still pressing forward to the fight, they broke
Through flames of sulphur and a night of smoke,
Till slaughter'd legions fill'd the trench below,
And bore their fierce avengers to the foe.

High on the works the mingling hosts engage; The battle, kindled into tenfold rage,

With showers of bullets, and with storms of fire,
Burns in full fury; heaps on heaps expire;
Nations with nations mix'd confusedly die,
And, lost, in one promiscuous carnage lie.

How many generous Britons meet their doom,
New to the field, and heroes in the bloom!
The' illustrious youths, that left their native shore
To march where Britons never march'd before,
(O fatal love of fame! O glorious heat,
Only destructive to the brave and great!)
After such toils o'ercome, such dangers past,
Stretch'd on Bavarian ramparts breathe their last.
But hold, my Muse! may no complaints appear,
Nor blot the day with an ungrateful tear; [pense
While Marlborough lives Britannia's stars dis-
A friendly light, and shine in innocence :

Plunging through seas of blood his fiery steed, Where'er his friends retire or foes succeed; Those he supports, these drives to sudden flight, And turns the various fortune of the fight.

Forbear, great Man! renown'd in arm's! forbear To brave the thickest terrors of the war,