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THE BATTLE OF RAMILLIA: OR, THE Power of Union. A POEM.

In Five BOOKS.

By Mr. DENNIS.

LONDON, Printed for Ben. Bragg at the Raven in Pater-Noſter-Row, 1706.

To the Right Honourable CHARLES, Lord HALIFAX.

[]
My Lord,

THIS Poem which was writ with a Deſign to ſhew the Prevalence and Power of Union, could to no Perſon be more properly Addreſt than Your Lordſhip, who have ever ſince You have appear'd in the World been ſo great a promoter of Union.

[] In thoſe great Offices of the higheſt Truſt; in which Your Lordſhip has been employ'd at the ſame Time, both by the Prince and the People, You have always made profeſſion of thoſe Publick and Noble Principles which alone are capable of Uniting the Prince and the People.

And while in the late Reign the Commons of England hearken'd to Your Lordſhip's Advice in Parliament, they were united in their Inclinations and their Deſigns to the great People whom they repreſented. The Nerves of War were duely ſupply'd, and that War was carried on [] Vigorouſly. The Greatneſs of France was ſapp'd by degrees and inſenſibly Undermin'd, and prepar'd to receive a terrible Shock from the firſt Blow it ſhould meet with. But as ſoon as Your Lordſhip's Enemies began to prevail in thoſe Illuſtrious Aſſemblies, a Spirit of Parcimony ill Underſtood and worſe Tim'd crept in amongſt them, and forc'd the beſt and moſt diſcerning of Kings to make a fatal Peace, which has endanger'd the Liberties of all Europe, and the Power and Traffick of this Kingdom; and has coſt this Nation ſo many Thouſands of Lives and ſo [] many Millions of Money, and which makes us ev'n at preſent contented, in order to the ending this juſt and neceſſary War, to furniſh thoſe Supplies in the very midſt of Scarcity, which we then grumbling with-held in the Height of the greateſt Affluence.

My Lord, The late King who was ſo True and ſo Juſt a Judge of Men, was ſo very well convinc'd of Your Lordſhip's Services both to the Crown and the People, that He took care by two juſt and two grateful Acts, that is, by calling You up to the Houſe of Peers, and making You [] Auditor of the Exchequer, that Your Country ſhould never want Your Service in Parliament, nor the Crown Your Abilities in the great Employments of the State.

The extraordinary Regard which ſo great a King always expreſs'd for Your Lordſhip's extraordinary Merit, provok'd Your Enemies to endeavour to fix on You the odious Name of Favourite, as they have ſince attempted to faſten it on ſome of Your Illuſtrious Friends. But with how much Malice, or how much Ignorance have both Attempts been made! For a Favourite is the Prince's meer [] Creature, whoſe only Merit is His Sovereign's Favour, and ſuch an Object of the Prince's Favour is always that of the Peoples Scorn and Hatred, and often expoſes the very Sovereign to the ſame Contempt and Hatred. Sovereign Princes are oblig'd by their Duty to God, themſelves and their People, to ſhew moſt Regard for thoſe who do moſt for the good of the People whom They govern. And when they perform that Duty, ev'n Kings are Juſtly Honour'd the more for the Merits of their Subjects. How Happy is the Nation where the Miniſters [] of Kings become the Darlings of the People. How Happy was England during the Time of Your Adminiſtration! When Your Lordſhip was united both to the King and the People; when the People declar'd aloud by their Repreſentatives in Parliament, that You had deſerv'd the Honours by which the King diſtinguiſh'd You! How Happy are we now, when the Queen Employs the moſt extraordinary Perſons in the Higheſt Employments, whoſe Praiſes are celebrated by the Auguſt Aſſemblies of Parliament, and ecchoed by every part of the [] Kingdom. Since never Princes were more univerſally eſteem'd by the People of England than the late King and the preſent Queen, 'tis an Infallible ſign that the ſame People approve of their choſen Miniſters.

Your Lordſhip, who in the late Reign was conſtantly employ'd in uniting the King and the People, or the People and their Repreſentatives, has been juſtly thought in this to be the fitteſt Perſon to maintain Union between the two Sovereign Princes in whom England is moſt concern'd. With how ſenſible a pleaſure do all who have the [] Honour to know Your Lordſhip, conſider the People of Hanover ſurveying You with a venerable Awe, as a Perſon employ'd in Affairs of the Higheſt Truſt and the Higheſt Conſequence by the Two greateſt Princes that ever ruled the braveſt People of Europe. The late King made choice of Your Lordſhip to ſtand in the Breach which Faction had made in the Ramparts of Liberty. The Queen has choſen You not only to reſiſt but to attack Faction, and to drive it from its laſt Retrenchment, by ſettling and ſecuring an intire Correſpondence between [] Her Majeſty and Her preſumptive Heir. And the Queen could not poſſibly repoſe a greater Truſt in Your Lordſhip than by employing You in an Affair, the Succeſs of which, was of ſo dear concern to Her Majeſty as the ſecuring both the Court of Hanover and Her own Subjects, of Her hearty Intentions in Relation to the Act of Settlement. When that Court beheld in Your Lordſhip ſo glorious an Example of the Britiſh Greatneſs, how were they exalted to think what a People they were one Day to Govern, tho' may that be late. They began to think [] ſome of their future Subjects equal to Foreign Princes, and Your Lordſhip was entertain'd with the ſame Honours which are paid to them.

The great Things which Your Lordſhip has done for uniting the Prince and the Succeſſour, the Prince and the People, and the People among one another, and for reſiſting the Force and Artifices of the Common Enemy, ought in gratitude to unite the Inclinations of all Engliſh Men to Your Lordſhip. To whom we have all ſo great Obligations, that we cannot ſo much as pay or receive the very leaſt Summ without reflecting [] on our Engagements to the late King, and to You; to the late King, whoſe Image we ſee upon every ſingle Piece, and to Your Lordſhip who plac'd it there; when in the midſt of the publick Indigence (an Indigence like that of Tantalus that plagued us in the midſt of Plenty, when the Miſer rolling in full Bags might then firſt be truly ſaid to be literally poor) Your Lordſhip by a political and noble Alchymy tranſmuted Pewter and ſordid Braſs to Silver and fine Gold, and by an Action ſo great and ſo beneficent, ſecur'd real Property to thoſe [] at Home, who had but the Shadow of it before, and reviv'd and reſtor'd the expiring Credit of the Nation abroad. Since My Lord Treaſurer by his admirable Management of the Nerves of War, is ſo juſtly ſaid to have had ſo great a ſhare in the glorious Succeſſes of the late Campaigns, Your Lordſhip ſure muſt have no ſmall one, ſince without what you have done, there could be no Management.

Theſe, My Lord, are the publick Reaſons for Addreſſing the following Poem to Your Lordſhip. There is a private one, and that is, that [] when a Man contracts ſo great a Debt as to make him Inſolvent, the leaſt thing that he can do is to acknowledge what he can never pay; thus Bankrupts, when they can make no other return, ſend their Creditors an Epiſtle. I have lately had very great Obligations to Your Lordſhip: You have been pleas'd to take ſome care of my Fortune at a Time when I moſt wanted it, and had leaſt reaſon to expect it from You, ſince ſeveral things hinder'd my giving that conſtant attendance on You, which Perſons of Quality ſo ſcrupulouſly exact from thoſe of [] Inferiour Rank, and with which, when Your Lordſhip is generouſly pleas'd to Diſpenſe, You plainly Declare, that Your Noble Notions of Liberty are not embrac'd by You as they are by many, either out of Pride, or on the account of Intereſt, but by a Principle of Exalted Reaſon, and Goodneſs, and Humanity. This is the firſt Opportunity which I have had ſince I receiv'd Your Favours of paying my Acknowledgments to You in ſo publick a manner, which I deſire Your Lordſhip to accept with Your uſual Goodneſs. But how falſe or [] how bounded is Human Virtue! And how few are Grateful without a Deſign of engaging their Benefactors or others to Heap more Benefits on them, by ſhewing that they can be ſenſible of them. This very Addreſs to Your Lordſhip is not without an Intention of engaging You whoſe Judgment in theſe Matters is acknowledg'd by all the World, to defend, as far as Your Conſcience will give You leave, one of the Boldeſt Poems that has been writ for ſeveral Years. But I who konw the vaſt Buſineſs in which You are engag'd, am preſuming [] enough to apprehend rather Your not Reading than Your not Liking,

I am, My Lord, Your Lordſhip's moſt Humble, moſt Faithful and moſt oblig'd Servant, John Dennis.

THE PREFACE.

[]

THough the attempt which I have made in the following Poem is very bold, yet I would not have the Reader believe it Raſh. I think my ſelf obliged, then to ſatisfie him without any Delay, that it is by no means deſigned to be a juſt Epick Poem. I know too little of the Nature of that Poem, and too much of my own infirmity ever to attempt to write one. But tho' this can by no means paſs for a juſt Epick Poem, yet is it ſomething of the Epick Kind, and bears the ſame proportion to a juſt Poem that a ſhort and a faint Eſſay do's to a full and a perfect Treatiſe.

[] That which threw me into this way of writing was the very Subject of the Poem. The Duke of Marlborough has laid ſuch High Obligations upon his Country, that nothing can be ſaid too much of him, nor done too much for him. And this obliged me to endeavour to do ſomething more Bold and more Great, than any thing that I had endeavoured to do formerly.

But no Poem that is not Religious can be great without extravagance or bold without raſhneſs, which has been formerly prov'd. But there were but two ways of writing a Religious Poem upon this Occaſion. The one was to do it by way of Hymn, and the other was to introduce Machines. The former being anticipated in the Poem which I wrote on the Battle of Bleinem; there remained only the latter.

[] But here I eaſily foreſee that the following Objection will be made, and that is, that ſince what the Duke of Marlborough has done is in its ſelf ſo great and ſo wonderful, what occaſion was there to endeavour to adorn it by Fiction. To which I anſwer, that becauſe what the Duke of Marlborough has done is in its ſelf ſo wonderful that it appears incredible, and Truth it ſelf has the Reſemblance of Fable and of Fiction, for that very Reaſon I was encouraged to embelliſh it with the Ornaments of Poetry. This is the Defence that Boileau has made for himſelf in his fourth Epiſtle, for introducing Machines into his Deſcription of the Paſſage of the Rhine. And if the Apology ſtands good for him, as it has always paſt hitherto, it is ſtill better for me. For my Machines are Chriſtian whereas his are Pagan, and conſequently can raiſe no great Emotion in the Minds of the Readers, becauſe [] they are incredible, according to one of his own Verſes.

L' eſprit n'eſt point emu de ce qu'il ne croit pas.

If any one objects that what I make my Machines ſay and act will no more be believed than what Boileau Attributes to the God of the Rhine, to that I anſwer, that though things did not actually paſs before and in the Battle of Ramillies, as they are related here, yet he who believes the Chriſtian Religion and a particular Providence, and Reflects upon a hundred Paſſages in the Old and new Teſtament, muſt allow, that there paſt ſomething not altogether unlike it. We ſee it is the Opinion of the Duke himſelf, that the Hand of God was in it, that Heaven, which leaves moſt Events to common Cauſes, was immediately concerned in this. Now can any thing be more reaſonable for one who believes that [] Heaven was immediately concerned on one ſide, than to believe that Hell, which our Religion tells us is always for oppoſing the great Deſigns of Heaven, was immediately concerned on the other. Thus the Deſign of this Poem is built and the Machines are introduced upon what happened to the Duke in the Battle, and what he himſelf wrote to one of our Miniſters of State after it.

Thus I have given an Account of the Deſign of this Poem; How well that deſign is executed, I muſt leave to the Reader. As I have conſulted my Friends who are fam'd for their Judgment in things of this Nature, as to what relates to the firſt four Books, and have had them by me long enough to form ſome Judgment of them my ſelf, I know the Fort and the Foible of them. For the fifth I have neither had it by me long enough to make any Judgment of it my ſelf, nor have I had time enough to conſult my [] Friends about it. And therefore if there is any thing amiſs in it, I muſt leave it to the indulgence of the Candid Reader. I only deſire him to take notice, that having formerly deſcrib'd with all the Application of which I was capable, a Battle gain'd by the ſame General, I was obliged to take a very different method in this Poem. I have only this to add, that I have not ſaid ſo much as I thought to have done, of the Important Conſequnces of the Battle of Ramellies, becauſe I have ſome thoughts of writing a Pindarick Poem upon that great Action of Quintus Flaminius, which reſtored Liberty to the Grecian Citties. Between which Illuſtrious Roman and the Duke of Marlborough, a very juſt Parallel may be drawn.

THE BATTLE OF RAMILLIA: OR, THE Power of UNION.
LIB. I.

[1]
OF Belgian Provinces by Unions Pow'r
Deliver'd in Ramillia's Plain I ſing.
I ſing the Triumph of that wondrous Field,
Which rais'd the Fame of pious Anna's Reign
Above the Glory of great Henry's Days,
And equall'd Marlbro' to Heroick Chiefs
In Natures Youth and happier Climates born.
O Thou whoſe Wiſdom and reſiſtleſs Pow'r
Has brought to light this wondrous Birth of
[2] Celeſtial Guardian of this Sacred Iſle,
Genius of Warlike Britain, who awhile
Haſt, left eternal Glory and the Sway
Of ſome Triumphant Hierarchy of Heav'n,
To ſhelter and protect theſe happy Realms;
Thou who with bliſsful Charity inſpir'd,
Infuſeſt Charity thro' ev'ry Heart,
And ev'ry Soul ſubjected to Thy Sway,
Teaching Thy much loud Britons to ſubdue
The Rage of France and Hell by Love Divine;
O dart ſuch Rays of that Seraphick Flame
Into my Breaſt, that all my raviſh'd Soul
May with immortal Charity be fir'd,
With Sacred Love of Britain's Godlike Sons,
That rais'd to Heav'n by that Celeſtial Fire,
It may attain a Song of wondrous Height,
May take a Flight above th'Anonian Hill,
And may proclaim thy Wiſdom and thy Pow'r
[3] And their Heroick Deeds in ſuch a ſtrain
As no fictitious Muſe can ere inſpire.
Now was the Sun in Taurus mounted high,
And darting down his Genial Rays from Heav'n
Directly to the Boſom of the Earth,
Call'd forth each Plant and ev'ry tender Flow'r
From out their Wintry, ſecret warm Retreats,
And reſtor'd Nature and renew'd the World;
When the Confederate Troops call'd out by Fate,
And by their great Commanders awful Voice
Were from their wintry warlike Stations drawn
T'appear near Tongeren in fierce Array.
Full of that conqu'ring Spirit they appear'd,
Which drove the vanquiſh'd French or'e Blenheim's Field.
[4] And in their Eyes a penetrating View
Might eaſily diſcern their Triumphs paſt,
And their amazing Victory to come.
All Nature ſeem tranſported at that Sight,
For Tyranny, Oppreſſion, Diſcord, Fraud,
Injuſtice, Violence, and Barbarous Rage
Are all about to be expell'd the Earth,
And in their room Simplicity and Truth,
Juſtice, Security and gentle Eaſe,
And Peace and ſpotleſs Innocence, ſhall reign;
Therefore all Nature ſmil'd upon that Sight
And Gods, and Men, and Earth, and Heav'n rejoyc'd.
But Hell's black Tyrant ſoon took fierce Alarms
Which to infernal Torments added Stings,
And to infernal Fury fiercer Flames,
And doubled the Damnation in his Breaſt.
[5] Upon the Steerage of his dusky Wings,
Up thro' the Ocean of the Air he ſails;
In the midway he ſtopt between the Moon's
Reſplendent Globe, and Earth's refulgent Ball,
At his great Palace there by Magick hung.
And thither a tremendous Council calls
Of Friends who now were roaming round the Earth,
In order to ſubject it to his Sway.
Up ſtrait upon the Wing the Spirits ſprung
At the Tartarean Trumpets thundring call,
And high above the Atmoſphere they flew,
The World was in Convulſions at the Flight,
Earth trembled, ſigh'd the Air, the Ocean groan'd,
Frequent, and full th'accurſt Aſſembly grew,
Direful Appearances, amazing Forms,
Which barely ſeen had Pow'r to look Deſpair
And Death into the Hearts of wretched Men,
[6] And wither in one moment all their ſtrength.
As ſoon as the Infernal Crew were ſate,
Up from his Throne th'outragious Tyrant roſe,
His wrathful Forehead to a Frown he roul'd
That darken'd all the Sky, in fixing Plagues,
Inexprimable Terrors thro' the Souls
Of his Tartarean Miniſters, that now
With ſable Wings their flaming Eyes they veil'd,
And they who had th'obdurate Hearts of Fiends,
They who to all Hells Horrours were Inur'd,
They who eternal Torments could endure,
They could not bear their raging Tyrants Wrath
But ſhook like Men who frightful Fiends behold.
Collected in himſelf a while he ſtood,
But when the horrid Silence had prepar'd
[7] th'accurſt Aſſembly for his dreadful Voice
Thus from his Breaſt his Rage in Thunder broke
Are ye aſſembled then at my dread Call?
By Hell I thought ye durſt t'have diſobey'd,
So light, ſo deſpicable in your Ears
Has been of late the Tempeſt of my Voice.
But ye not only are aſſembled here,
But what is ſtranger, with thoſe cruel Looks
And that relentleſs Air, with which when laſt
I met you here, you vainly made your Boaſt
You would ſubdue the World to my Fell Sway,
Would conſtitute me Univerſal King,
And pull the Thunderer from his noiſie Throne.
Yes, yes, ye have the Looks and Meens of Fiends.
But O dire Shame, to Hell, to me, to all!
Your Deeds are ſo unworthy the great Name,
[8] So Poor, ſo Mean, ſo almoſt dully Good,
That one would ſwear ye were grown Friends to Men,
And Servants to my Rival of the Sky;
Can ye be they who made your threatning vaunts,
That e'er yon Planet turn'd about the Sun,
(With that he pointed to Reſplendent Earth
As tow'rds the Eaſt her Magnitude ſhe rowl'd)
It a ſubjected Province ſhould become,
Like theſe bright Tracts of all ſurrounding Air,
To our black Empire of the boundleſs Deep?
Can it be you who promis'd to or'erturn
The Kingdom there eſtabliſh'd by Heaven's King,
Who there bears Sway wherever Reaſon rules?
Whoſe Empire is where ever Law commands?
For Reaſon is his ſecret whiſpering Voice,
And Law his proud Command promulg'd to all?
[9] Can it be you who promis'd to extend
My Empire over all yon ſpotty Globe?
An Empire rul'd by Men inſtead of Laws,
Where human Paſſion ſways and human Will;
Paſſion infus'd by us, and Will by us
Suggeſted and inſenſibly inſpir'd?
Have ye perform'd what vauntingly ye ſwore?
No, tho' your Intereſt and your Glory both
Demanded it: for know Aerial Gods,
Where humane Paſſion reigns, and human Will,
There we not only Reign but are Ador'd.
Of this be ſure Religion come from Heaven,
Will ne'er ſupport an Empire rais'd by Hell;
Nor can the dreadful Empire rais'd by us,
Where Tyrant Man inſtead of Law controuls,
Endure Religion that from Heav'n deſcends,
Caſt but your Eyes wherever we command;
And Man our Proxy reigns inſtead of Law;
[10] There Men adore ſome vegetable Power,
Or their old crazy Prieſt they make their God
Or madly to Fanatick Prophets fall.
There they bow down to Stocks and ſenſele [...] Stones;
That is, to Us and our Deluſions bow,
And Tremble at the Gods they could create
Why have ye then round Earth ſupinely roam'd
Regardleſs of the grand Concern of Hell?
Or are your old ſeducing Arts forgot?
Or know ye not my Intereſts or your own?
Caſt but your Eyes upon her Silver Globe,
As through the vaſt Abyſs of Sky ſhe rouls,
See that peculiar People choſe by Heaven
To propagate its Empire upon Earth,
Which they, it ſeems, call Liberty, call Law
See how with Hearts too large to be confin'd
Within th'Eternal Fences of the Main,
[11] They paſs the Limits of the boundleſs Deep,
And every where my Rivals Rule extend!
Survey Earths ſhining Ball with ſharpeſt Ken.
What Portion of her Planet can ye find,
But where the Glory of the Britiſh Name,
Or of her Councils or her Arms reſounds?
Look what ev'n now the Britons boldly Act
In rough Germania, in Heſperian Land,
In Celtiberian and in Belgian Fields!
Mark yon aſſembled Squadrons near the Dyle!
Behold the conquering Spirit in their Eyes!
Hell! ye have ſuffer'd it to riſe ſo high,
'Tis irreſiſtible by human Powers
Unleſs by our Auxiliar Bands ſuſtain'd.
See yonder their accurſt Commander comes,
And yonder Conqueſt towring or'e him flies,
[12] Whoſe well known Voice, the Goddeſs ſtrait obey
As at his Maſter's call the Falcon ſtoops,
And his Auguſt Appearance is the Lure
That brings her ſwiftly ruſhing from the Skies
If once he joyns thoſe Squadrons we are loſt,
His high Appearance, when they once behold,
Hell can ſhew nought ſo Dreadful and ſo Dire
As can diſmay the greatneſs of their Souls.
Ye Hoſts of Terrors, ye remember well,
That when our fierce Auxiliar Bands ſuſtain'd
Our dear Allies in Blenheim's deathleſs Field,
The Britons, though to every human Power,
Invincible, were forc'd to yield to Ours;
But when great Marlborough came impetu [...] on,
And rallied them with that Heroick Air
With which he fires the Warlike Squadro [...] Souls:
[13] Ye Stygian Gods, what Miracles we ſaw,
How they who Trembled but the Moment paſt,
Before the King of Terror's awful view,
Now fought like Gods above the reach of Fate!
His God-like Preſence in a Moment rais'd
Their ſinking Spirits and diſpell'd their Fears;
His Voice, his ſole Appearance made them bold.
With what reſiſtleſs Fury they preſt on:
Drove you with matchleſs Bravery on our Friends?
Tho' I look'd on, and tho' I menac'd high,
But all my clamour was in Thunder drown'd,
Till French and Fiends together vaniſh'd all,
And Howling ſunk thro' Danube's Ghaſtful yawn
Down to our Empire of the Nether Deep.
Ye know, ye Stygian Gods, and oft have read,
Within the Adamantine Book of Fate,
That more amazing Wonders are reſerv'd
[14] To be perform'd by Marlborough's conquering Arm,
Unleſs with all our Power we interpoſe.
Lewis by me, and Deſtiny deſign'd,
T'extend my Empire and exalt my Name,
Above all Names that are ador'd on Earth;
Lewis, the Great, the Wiſe, the ſecond Hope [...] Hell,
The Man, the Monarch after my own Heart;
Who never yet tranſgreſt my dread Commands,
But makes them his Employment all the Day,
And Meditation all the watchful Night;
He, the great Image of my ſelf expreſs,
Preſumptuous, Fraudulent, Revengeful, Prou [...]
Implacable, Inexorable, Falſe,
Ev'n greatly and heroically Falſe:
Who watchful as a roaring Lion roams
[15] With Jaws expanded to devour his Prey,
And makes Religion his Pretence for Fraud,
For Cruelty, for dire Revenge, for Murder,
And every noble, every ſlagrant Vice;
O way to baniſh Virtue from the World!
O great Invention envied ev'n by me!
His Genius now from Marlborough's Genius ſhrinks,
And unleſs we ſupport him, he muſt fall:
And can we then forſake th'Immortal Man?
Ah no! ſuch Merit claims that at his Need
To guard him from our fierce inſulting Foes,
We raiſe the noble Arrierban of Hell.
If Lewis falls, our Empire with him ſinks,
We meet a ſecond more opprobrious Fall,
For ev'n from Earth, for ev'n from Duſt we fall.
[16] O ſhameful Fall for us who aſpir'd to Heaven,
For us who made Divinity our Aim!
Then Law and Reaſon will victorious reign,
Then Liberty eternal will become.
Then odious Virtue will poſſeſs the Earth,
And every glorious Vice be driv'n to Hell.
Exert your ſelves, ye Furies then, and act
Deeds worthy the Antagoniſts of Heaven.
Can ye forget? what? utterly forget
What once we acted, and what once we were?
Ah no! ye never can, for in your Breaſts
Some Spirits unextinguiſh'd yet remain,
Some of thoſe Godlike Spirits that inſpir'd
Our Angel minds in that Eternal Field,
When girt with Adamant and glorious Flames
Againſt the Empire of great Heaven we fought
[17] I muſt confeſs we loſt th'Immortal Day,
But yet, we fought, ye Stygian Gods, we fought
With Spirit equal to the vaſt Deſign.
Fate gave our Enemy the Field, but Ours,
Ours was the Triumph, and the Glory Ours
Of great, aſpiring, unexampled Minds
Who dar'd againſt the Omnipotent to War.
Can ye remember this? Can ye reflect
That ye for Angels were an equal Match,
And yield at laſt to Man, to Woman yield?
For 'tis a Woman, O ye Pow'rs, deſtroys
This mighty Champion of our Cauſe and Us;
For ſhe directs, ſhe animates, ſhe fires
Thoſe who o're Earth the Rule of Heav'n extend
'Tis ſhe who out of pure Deſpight to me,
Contemns a boundleſs Arbitrary Reign,
[18] And thinks it lovelier Empire, fairer Fame,
Upon my Rival poorly to depend,
Poorly to wear a Crown that Law may Rule,
And to make Reaſon and th'Almighty Reign,
Than be her ſelf a Soveraign Goddeſs own'd
And by the Kingdoms of the Earth ador'd.
Had ye the Spirit with which once ye flam'd
There needed not this long and pow'rful Speech
The Godlike Cauſe in which ye ſtand engag'd,
The Cauſe of Empire and Eternal Fame,
Would move alone your Adamantine Hearts,
And urge you to great Acts, tho' I were Mute
Behold yon World, that fluctuates in the void
Know that's the Victor's Recompenſe Decreed
Now ſee your Female Adverſary there,
See her a Suppliant, Earneſt, Humble, Meek,
Behold her Proſtrate, Abject on her Knees,
[19] And Trembling at that Monarch of the Sky
Whom ſo magnanimouſly we defy.
No, ye can ne're ſee this and not diſdain
That ſhe ſhould make that floating World a Heav'n,
Which we ſo greatly ſtrive to make a Hell.
Thus he blaſphem'd aloud, and while he ſpoke
Th'Aſſembly all the ſeveral movements felt
The various Paſſions that their direful King,
Who knew ſo well their Hearts deſign'd t'Inſpire
Now pleas'd, now ſad, now trembling, now enrag'd
With Envy wrack'd, or burning with diſdain,
Or with deſire of fierce Revenge inflam'd.
When he had done, unanimous they rent
The troubled Aether with a ſtormy Shout,
[20] And to the Heaven of Heavens defiance hurl'd,
When ſuddenly a burſt of Thunder broke
From the Empyrean, and th'avenging Bolt
Thro' thouſands drives, and thouſands lightning Blaſts;
Then as a flock of [...]imerous Fowl takes Wing,
And ſeeks the inmoſt Covert of the Grove,
On hearing of the Fowler's fatal Gun,
That had of old their tender pinions gall'd;
So on the Wing th'infernal Angels ſprung
Upon the Empyrean Thunders roar,
And ſought the midmoſt Regions of the Air,
And the black Hemiſphere and Realms of Night
But ſoon their impious daring they reſum'd,
And up once more to the pure Aether ſlew.
Among the reſt, there was a fantom Dire
Of all that fell from Heav'n the fierceſt Fiend,
[21] The fierceſt and moſt cruel Fiend that fell,
Diſcord, the Daughter of dire Lucifer,
Begot when his prodigious Luſt ran high
On Pride, when with her hotteſt Flames ſhe burn'd;
Gigantick was her Stature and her Looks
Like Demogorgon's [...]ere, at which Hell ſhakes.
Her Native Country was the Heav'n of Heav'ns,
But Heav'n, as ſoon as born, diſclaim'd the Fiend,
With Lightnings and with Thunders drove her out,
For Happineſs ſtill fl [...]es the raving Fiend,
And Peace and Joy with her can never dwell.
As from her Birth ſhe was expell'd from Heaven
So by her cruel Father's dire Decree,
[22] She baniſh'd was from all the Bounds of Hell,
As one who might elſewhere far better ſerve,
The growing Empire of her dreadful Sire,
But at her parting, half her Serpent Brood
She left behind, and to the very Heart
Her own inexorable Father ſtung,
That with the Torment ever ſince he roars.
Thus baniſh'd from high Heaven, and driv'n from Hell,
She among miſerable Mortals dwells,
A falſe and moſt inhoſpitable Gueſt,
Who all her warmeſt Friends torments the moſt:
Tho' baniſh'd from her Father's Realms below,
Yet not one Fiend of all th'infernal Hoſt
Endeavours to extend, with ſo much Zeal,
The ſpreading Empire of Hell's horrid ſway.
[23]
To others, or her ſelf, no Reſt ſh' allows,
Alternately afflicted with th'Extreams,
Of burning Fury, and tormenting Fear,
And ſharp Remorſe, with all her deadlieſt Stings,
Arm'd all the Fears and Furies of her Soul;
To this infernal Council ſhe was call'd:
And when the Whirlwind of Applauſe was o're,
Up roſe the Subtle and the Cruel Fiend.
As riſing, her Gorgonian Head ſhe ſhook,
With all its Snakes, that from their livid Eyes,
Shot Hell's blue Fire, and from their baleful Mouths
Darted a Thouſand forky poiſnous Tongues,
A thouſand Hiſſes at th'Aſſembly threw;
Each frighted Spectre gave a fearful Start,
As a poor Swain that underneath his Feet,
Spies a fell Adder bloated with his Rage;
And lifting up his angry Creſt on high,
[24] Springs back, while to his Heart his Blood retire
And none but Lucifer himſelf had Pow'r,
To caſt one look npon the raging Fiend,
And he himſelf grew Stupid at the ſight,
Like old Laoeoon's diſmal Statue look'd,
That ſeems not faſhion'd by the Sculptor's Art,
But ſhews a Wretch with Horror ſtupid grown,
And petrified with Woe and with Deſpair,
And as the hideous Hag began to Scream,
Th'accurſt Aſſembly gave a ſecond Start,
Th'accurſt Aſſembly gave a dreadful Yell:
With equal fright ſhall all th'Infernal Hoſt,
And equal Horror hear at the laſt Day,
The ſounding clangour of th'Eternal Trump,
Which univerſal Nature ſhall untune,
And the bad Angels roaring drive to Hell,
Then bar the Gates with Adamantine Bolts,
Which then ſhall to Eternity be clos'd.
[25]
Such was her Air unutterably dire,
And ſuch her hideous Voice, and thus ſhe ſpoke.
Have we the Patience then of ſtupid Saints,
Ye Gods, to hear all this without Reply?
Nay, our inſulting Tyrant to applaud,
For his unjuſt and barbarous Reproach?
But this, tho' ſpoke to all, is meant to me;
For without me, not all the Hoſt of Hell
Has pow'r t'enlarge its dreadful Monarch's ſway.
Am I of want of Knowledge then accus'd,
Or want of Diligence t'extend thy Pow'r?
O burning Indignation! O Diſdain!
O ſlander, worthy of dire Lucifer;
And darſt thou thus accuſe me falſly here,
Upon this Throne of thy Imperial Pow'r,
Encompaſs'd with ten Thouſand Spirits round,
[26] By mighty Angels ſerv'd, and ev'n by me?
From whence is all this Pomp, this Pow'r deriv'd?
This Emulation of the Thunderers State?
Before I knew thee, what wert thou in Heav'n?
A ſervile Miniſtrel bred to Cringe and Fawn,
And flatter thy proud Arbitrary Lord.
But I an Emperor made thee of a Slave;
Of a baſe Flatterer, a Blaſphemer bold,
The Rival and the Antagoniſt of him,
Whom thou ſo ſlaviſhly obey'dſt before.
Millions of Angels to thy ſide I drew,
I gave them Spirit to aſſert thy Cauſe
Againſt thy thundring Rival and his Slaves;
In that eternal Day, which tho' we loſt,
We triumph'd in defeat; O matchleſs Fame!
For we diſſolv'd his univerſal Sway,
An Empire by our overthrow we gain'd:
[27] And thou a poor precarious Lord before
Becam'ſt the independant King of Hell.
I founded thy Dominion upon Earth,
I propagate in humane Hearts thy Sway:
For where I dwell not, thou canſt never reign;
No, there dull Union dwells, there lazy Peace
And Reaſon, and thy hated Rivals Law.
Have I not Lewis now for fifty Years
Inſpir'd, poſſeſſing all his mighty Soul?
I fir'd that Soul to all thoſe vaſt Deſigns
That made it worthy thee, and worthy me.
His ſanguinary Orders I inſpir'd,
And then perform'd them with this Bloody hand,
And all the European World laid bare.
'Twas I embru'd his fierce dragooning Slaves,
In Fathers and in Brothers guiltleſs Blood:
A Sea of guiltleſs Blood this Hand has ſpilt:
Thy Rival's Images by Millions I
[28] In Rancour to th'Original defac'd,
That thou might'ſt Triumph o're the vanquiſh'd World,
And Lewis might thy great Vicegerent Reign.
If now he flies before victorious Anne,
Can I with Juſtice be condemn'd or blam'd?
Think'ſt thou 'tis to the Woman that I yield?
No, 'tis to him from whom thou fledſt amain,
With this Aſſembly here of potent Gods,
And all the great, th'united Hoſt of Hell.
'Tis to that Wiſdom, and that Power Divine,
Which Day and Night on that victorious Queen,
As on the conquering Hierarchies attends;
Is it my Fault if that Religious Queen,
By ev'ry Action and by ev'ry Voice,
Inſpires her Britons with Celeſtial Love?
If by thy Rival ſhe is taught t'employ,
Great Souls by him and Deſtiny deſign'd,
And by profoundeſt depths of Reaſon fit,
[29] T'unite her Subjects firſt, and then Mankind?
Am I to be condemn'd, if while Abroad
Great Marlborough in indiſſoluble Bonds,
The thwarting Intereſts of the Nations joyns?
At Home Godolphin temperates the rage
Of Factions, which for Maſtery contend,
And makes Confuſion, which is weakneſs, yield
To Order, which is Strength, as he Above
The Rage of warring Atoms reconcil'd;
Or cauſing them t'engage with moderate Strife;
Yet Strife, where that prevails, which moſt agrees
With thoſe eternal Laws that Rule the Whole,
Mingled the Elements, and made the World.
I freely own, that thoſe our Mortal Foes
Grow more pernicious to us every Hour.
They are come t'Aſſociate now with William's Friends;
William, whoſe Name we Fiends with Horror hear;
[30] Ev'n with his firmeſt faithfulleſt Friends they adviſe
Who never ſhrunk from his deteſted ſide,
Tho' with a thouſand Dangers compaſt round,
By home-bred Traytors and by foreign Foes.
Th'audacious Men, who inſolently dar'd
To ſet up Liberty and pull down us,
When France and Hell reign'd Paramount on Earth,
When they had nought but Ruine to expect
From ſuch a curſed deſperate Attempt:
With theſe they now conſult, in theſe confide,
And theſe victorious Anne delights t'employ.
To Spain ſhe Mordant and Ravigni ſends,
And Montague himſelf to German Plains
Is hurried, in extream deſpight to me,
Where his wiſe Councils and his pow'rful Voice
Threaten my very Being to deſtroy,
[31] And menace all this dreadful Hoſt in me.
Therefore unleſs we make one laſt Effort,
One great Attempt that's worthy of my Rage,
Britain Farewel, and Tyranny Adieu,
Adieu, the Reign of Hell's deſpotick Sway!
Britain Unanimous as well as Free,
Will ſoon Enfranchiſe and Unite the World,
But not the pow'rfulleſt Fiend of all that fell
From Heav'n, of all that own thy boundleſs Sway,
Dares make that horrible Attempt but I.
And now, ev'n now, I form the glorious Plan,
As the Confederates by uniting Thrive,
Succeſs continuing will Cement them more:
But their Felicity to come, depends
Upon yon Squadrons in the Belgian Plains;
Should they th'adverſe Event of Battle feel,
All that Great Anne has done t'unite Mankind,
I can with Eaſe in one Campaign o'rethrow.
[32] Yon Squadrons I have view'd and have review'd
With all the Inquiſition of my Eyes.
I view'd them, and I ſigh'd, to find their Heads
And Hearts united by great Marlborough's Care,
Which makes them the juſt Terror of us all.
But here by Hell, and all Hell's Pow'rs I ſwear,
Hear it ye God's, who rule the unbounded Air,
Hear it ye Horrors of th'Abiſs profound,
Ye black Attendants on Eternal Night!
Hear it ye Deities, aſſembled here
In Council, to maintain Hell's horrid Sway!
And thou whom all theſe dreadful Pow'rs obey
Whoſe Frown makes Gods above, and God below,
And all the frighted Univerſe, except
The ſtedfaſt Empyraean Tremble; Hear,
Hear me great Lucifer, while by thy ſelf,
Thy dire inviolable ſelf I ſwear
[33] That I with Spirit great as the Deſign,
Great as the glorious Cauſe, and worthy me,
I that audacious General will deſtroy,
I thoſe victorious Squadrons will o'rethrow,
And ſtill in ſpight of Earth, in ſpight of Heav'n,
Diſcord, and Lucifer, and Hell ſhall reign.
She ſaid, and not expecting a Reply,
Down tow'rds the Earth ſhe wheel'd her airy Flight;
And Lucifer diſmiſs'd th'Infernal Pow'rs.
The End of the Firſt Book.

THE BATTLE OF RAMILLIA: OR, THE Power of UNION.
LIB. II.

[35]
NOW in the midmoſt Region of the Air,
Deſcending Diſcord meets the Beldame Night,
As Weſtward ſhe her Sable Chariot drives,
Old Night the Fury places by her ſide,
And her black ſhaggy Mantle o'r her throws.
As Diſcord ſat by the dark grizly Hag,
Diſcord more hideous ſeem'd, and Night more foul.
[36] As they were hurried by their coal black Steeds,
And the ſoft Chariot ſlid thro' Midnight Air,
A motley Equipage before, behind,
And on each ſide the Journeying Furies flew.
For there flew Treaſon with her looks askew,
And Subornation clad in diſmal Black,
And Stygian Envy of a livid Hue;
And yellow Jealouſy with Eyes ſuffus'd,
And faithleſs Fraud in particolour'd Robe,
And Murder pale diſtain'd with ſanguine Dye,
And ugly Slander ſpeckled like a Toad,
With livid Spots upon a ſaffron Hue
Over her Arms, her Belly, and her Thighs;
But Serpentine her Head and deadly Eyes,
And from her Mouth ſhe hurl'd her forky Tongue,
And hideous was her Hiſs, and mortal was her Sting.
Then lame Adultery, and Inceſt blind,
[37] And ſly Hypocriſy, with Holy Leer,
Came lagging in the Rear with Reverend Gown,
And darting many a ſow'r Grimace he flew,
And ſigh'd profoundly with inverted Eyes,
And bang'd his Stomacher with ſounding Strokes;
But all affected was, and all was falſe;
For nervous were his Limbs, and bold his Brow;
His dimpled Cheek was of Vermilion Dye;
His Chin a Fabrick with two Stories built;
His wanton Eye-balls ſparkled as they roll'd;
His pamper'd ſide was with a ſevenfold Shield,
Defended of impenetrable Brawn;
His Paunch was prominent above the reſt,
And like a goodly Promontory hung.
The Silver Moon above th'Horizon peep'd,
And frighted at the monſtrous Scene retir'd;
The conſcious Stars withdrew their ſickning fires,
[38] And Nature that abhorr'd the diſmal ſight,
Redoubled all the Terrors of the Dark.
As o're Campania's Viney Downs they flew,
The Centinels of Nature took the Alarm,
The watchful Dogs in ev'ry Village bay'd,
And hungry Wolves forſook their Prey to Howl
And the wing'd Prophets of Nocturnal Sky,
The fatal Raven croak'd, the ghaſtful ScriechOwl ſcream'd.
When to the glittering Palace they approach'd,
Where Lewis in a reſtleſs ſlumber lay
Upon th'uneaſy Down, from the black Carr
Diſcord alights, the golden Turrets ſhook,
The Doors flew open with a hollow Groan,
And the Fiend enter'd where the Tyrant lay.
Then throws off her immenſe Gigantick Form,
[39] And the Gorgonian Terrors of her Front,
And Maintenon appears in Shape and Air;
And ſhe, who a fall'n Angel was before,
Is a decay'd affected Beauty now.
When ſhe the Royal Curtains drew, ſhe ſaw
The Tyrant toſſing on the reſtleſs Plume;
Haughty and Stern, and thoughtful ev'n in Sleep;
Revolving mighty Miſchiefs in his Mind;
His Forehead furrow'd by an angry Frown,
And on his clouded Brow ſate cruel Care.
And now and then he gave a fearful Start,
And from his Heart drew many a guilty Groan.
Ev'n Diſcord gaz'd with Pleaſure at that ſight,
And the Fiend ſmil'd that never ſmil'd before.
And canſt thou Sleep in this malignant Hour,
Said ſhe, when ev'ry Star's againſt thee leagu'd?
[40] How fall'n, how chang'd from that tranſcendant State,
In which the gazing World admir'd thee once,
When thou wert grown the Terror ev'n of Kings,
And dreadful Scourge of the Worlds potent Lords!
When thou the Earth ſo rapidly laid'ſt waſte,
That Victory came panting in thy Rear,
And wanted Wings t'o'rtake thy impetuous March
When Emulous of the Meridian Sun
Thy Glory blaz'd, and thou had'ſt Hope to ſhine
Sole Monarch of the deſolated Earth,
As he ſole Tyrant of the deſart Sky.
Yet in thoſe Happy, in thoſe glorious Days,
No profound Sleep could ever lull thy Soul,
And rarely, rarely Slumber clos'd thy Eyes.
But all the Day, and all the live long Night,
Care kept thee watching, to inflame the World,
[41] And to divide and to deſtroy Mankind.
Now by victorious Marlborough brought low,
Here thou lieſt buried in inglorious Eaſe,
While with unwearied Vigilance he wakes,
And ev'n this now the vollied Thunder graſps,
That is about to part with hideous Roar,
And all thy trembling Provinces amaze;
Strike forty Thouſand of thy Veterans dead,
Strike ev'n thee dead their Arbitrary Lord,
And with thy Perſon kill thy very Fame,
Unleſs this Moment thou prevent'ſt the Blow.
What fatal Hour is loſt in ſoft Repoſe?
Has adverſe Fortune cool'd thy tow'ring Pride,
Or has Age quench'd thy noble Luſt of Soul,
And that aſpiring Flame that rais'd thy Thoughts
To Affectation ev'n of Godhead once?
Can he who aim'd erewhile at nothing leſs
Than reigning King of Kings and Lord of Lords,
[42] Can he a Rival bear in Empire now?
And art thou to a poor Deſpondence grown,
Of Lording it o'r all this Weſtern World?
Yet haſt thou Reaſon to deſpond indeed,
Unleſs thou art eternally Intent
To diſunite whom thou pretend'ſt t'o'rthrow
The few Gigantick Hunters of Mankind,
Who univerſal Empire here acquir'd,
All of them vaſt Advantages enjoy'd,
Which Heav'n and Nature have deny'd to thee
Cyrus, great Caeſar, and the Son of Jove,
Young Hammon, led their conqu'ring Troops themſelves,
Were themſelves brave, ſometimes to Raſhneſs Brave;
And the undaunted Squadrons which they led,
When they were Conquerors, were always free
And could a more exalted Virtue boaſt
[43] Than thoſe who yielded to their conqu'ring Arms.
But here Thou li'ſt ſupinely at Thy Eaſe,
And buried in opprobrious Sloath, pretend'ſt
To do thy Work by Journey men of War;
Yes, by Thy baffled Mareſchals Thou pretend'ſt,
Day Labourers, who for Thy Glory drudge,
To conquer Heroes fighting for their own,
Fierce Warlike People, Thou pretend'ſt t'o'rcome
By the Inhabitants of ſoft Anjou,
Or Squadrons in delicious Touraine bred,
And by dejected and deſponding Slaves,
Freeborn magnanimous Nations to o'rthrow;
But Freemen ne're were vanquiſh'd yet by Slaves,
Nor Warlike Nations by a wanton Crew.
If in thy great Deſigns Thou would'ſt ſucceed,
Divide thoſe Foes, and fight them with themſelves,
Then by each others Arms enſlave them all,
And what Thou want'ſt in Perſonal Command,
[44] Or Valour; or the Hardneſs of Thy Troops,
Supply by Fraud and old notorious Arts.
But take Occaſion by the Forelock ſtill,
And let no Minute paſs, no Moment ſlip,
That may be employ'd to diſunite their Force,
And by dividing to confound their Pow'r.
Such an important Moment is This now,
In which Thou lieſt diſſolv'd in fatal Sleep,
The Reins of Empire yielding up to Chance,
And dead and ſtupid to the Charms of Fame.
But tho' thou ſlumber'ſt, know I always wake
And Day and Night or'e thy dear Intereſt brood
To cheriſh it like tender Birds their Young.
And now am come, thou deareſt of Mankind,
Dearer than Pleaſure to me, dear as Pride,
Dear as the Godlike Pleaſure of Revenge,
Am come to rouze Thee from thy inglorious Eaſe,
And my own Empire to advance in Thine.
[45]
True, ſaid the Tyrant, who had all this while
Been ſhaking off the Downey Bands of Sleep,
If that a ſtrong Deſire to Rule the World,
Inſpires and Agitates my High-born Soul,
'Tis but to lay it at thy Lovelier Feet,
And that the Ruler of the Land and Main
May be a happier Slave and worthier Thee.
And let the boundleſs Liberty you take,
Which had been Death to any one but Thee,
Declare the Boundleſs Pow'r thy wondrous Charms
Have given Thee o're ev'n my ambitious Soul.
But why do'ſt Thou, who haſt the Pow'r to pierce
The intimat'ſt Receſſes of my Heart,
Who rul'ſt it with as Arbitary Sway
As I my ſelf would all the World controul,
[46] So cruelly upbraid me without Cauſe?
Canſt thou believe, I poorly have giv'n o're
My great Deſign of Univerſal Sway?
Canſt Thou believe I lie extended here
Out of a low inglorious Indolence,
Or mean Deſpondence of Succeſs, which ne [...]
Can ſeize a towring fiery Soul like mine?
No, never ſhall my Soul Abatement feel
Of its high Paſſion for eternal Fame,
But as I Thee adore with fiercer Flame
Than all that in my warmeſt Youth I felt,
Ev'n for the brighteſt of Thy charming Sex,
For Monteſpan, or lovely La Fontange,
Or tender La Valiere, ſo Age it ſelf
Does but augment my noble Luſt of Fame;
'Tis my firſt Principle of Life, by which
I ſpeak, and move, and act, and think, and am
And Lewis, when that fails, muſt be no more.
[47] O could I but the Weakneſſes ſuppreſs
Of this frail Fleſh, and conquer the Deſire
And Need of Nutriment and ſoft Repoſe,
As I th'Infirmities have overcome
Of my great Mind, extinguiſhing Remorſe,
Driving Compaſſion out, and ſtifling Shame,
Then without Interval the glorious Cares
Of Empire ſhould employ my Aſpiring Soul,
Under which now ſometimes my Nature ſinks,
And I by ſordid Elements are forc'd
To feed the thinking Parts expiring Flame,
And ſeek new Life within the Arms of Death
But ſoon I ſhake off his dull Chains, and then
At once to Life and Glory I return.
Whether 'twas partial Deſtiny or Chance
That gave Victorious Marlborough the Day
In a dire Hour, at Bleinem's fatal Field,
(O fatal Field to all my Aſpiring Thoughts,
[48] I will forget that ever Thou haſt been,
And think of Univerſal Sway again)
Yet to the Terror of my wondring Foes,
I ſtill recover'd that amazing Blow,
Renew'd the fainting Courage of Troops,
My Loſs recruited and retriev'd my Pow'r.
Me canſt Thou then of Indolence accuſe,
Or of Deſpondence or abated Fire?
Me, whoſe unwearied Care has ſince oppreſt
The Dilatory Germans on the Rhine;
Oppreſt them on Verona's wondring Stream,
And oblig'd Fortune, in her own Deſpight,
Againſt her worthleſs Favourites to declare.
O I had laid a Scheme which would have ſunk,
And utterly confounded all my Foes,
If Fate in Tempeſts had not interpos'd,
Upon th'Adige and the Rhine I fought.
Only with Men, and there I found Succeſs,
[49] In Spain I was conſtrain'd to yield to Heav'n,
For 'twas the loud Artillery of Heav'n
That from me ſnatch'd the Celtiberian Tow'r,
And baffled my whole Providence at once;
But whence can this tranſporting Fury Spring,
Or what makes this the great deciding Hour?
To whom the Fury eagerly reply'd:
By that diſaſtrous Diſappointment Spain,
The Pride for which contending Nations fight,
Depends upon this very fatal Hour,
Which here Thou ſquander'ſt in inglorious Eaſe.
Spain is in utmoſt Danger to be loſt,
Unleſs Thou rouſing wilt prevent the Blow.
And Spain in Danger will deject our Friends,
And give more daring Spirit to our Foes;
And bind them in indiſſoluble Bonds.
[50] Conſider how they all prepare t'Unite,
England and Scotland ſtretch their Sinewey Arms,
Both eager in a ſtrict Embrace to meet,
And for the future like two Siſters live;
By their great Mother's Wiſdoms reconcil'd.
In England too by wiſe Godolphin's Care,
Faction has loſt its Ferment and grows mild;
The very Tygreſs Faction is grown tame;
The Liſtleſs Germans whom thy wondrous Arts
So nobly have divided and brought low,
Some lucid Intervals of Concord find,
And publick Spirit and Will ſurely leave,
Their ſhameful Quarrels and opprobrious Sloath,
If Spain ſhould from thy baffled Arms be torn,
That Loſs will calm the fierce Hungarian's Rage,
And Spirit jealous Venice to declare
Againſt th'Invader of fair Italy.
If Spain the Golden Prize of Battles loſt,
[51] No Stratagem, nor Violence, nor Art,
Can thy exhauſted Treaſury Supply.
And then thy numerous Armies vaniſh all,
And leave Thee to the Scorn of thy proud Foes,
Even thy own Slaves (and that's the Blow of Fate)
Ev'n thy own vile obſequious Slaves will riſe
And take rebellious Arms againſt their King:
Then from the Pyrenaeans to the Rhine.
Adieu Thy Conqueſts, and perhaps Thy Crown,
But nought, aſſure thy ſelf can Spain retrieve,
But a ſurprizing and ſtupendous Blow
Struck ſuddenly upon the Belgian Dyle.
A ſudden and ſurprizing Blow ſtruck there,
While this the great Campaign of Fate begins
[52] Will give thee ſure occaſion to detach
Part of thy conqu'ring Troops to Philip's Aid,
To puſh thy Advantage on th'aſtoniſh'd Rhine,
Thy Friend the loſt Elector to reſtore,
And penetrate to inmoſt Auſtria's Clime,
Which then in vain ſhall wait great Marlborough's Aid,
That will conſtrain the Empire to recal
The new Supplies to Illuſtrious Eugene ſent,
And give thee time to finiſh Savoy's Fate.
That fatal Blow will once again divide
Confederated Pow'rs, will Venice awe,
Exaſperate the fierce Pannonian Mars,
Amaze the Germans, and the Dutch confound,
Prevent that Union now deſign'd between
The Engliſh and the Caledonian States,
And in both Realms rekindle factious Rage,
[53] Rouze up thy ſleeping Arbitrary Friends,
Ferment them ſtill with more fanatick Rage,
That our declining Empire will ſuſtain,
And will advance thro' all the Chriſtian World,
And wipe away the Stains of Bleinem's ſhameful Day.
To whom the grizly Tyrant thus reply'd:
O why haſt thou once more ſo raſhly rouz'd
The Serpent ſlumbring in my wounded Breaſt,
Which when awake ſtill gnaws my mangled Head
And greedily devours my vital Blood.
O Bleinem! bane to my aſpiring Thoughts!
At whoſe Idea all come tumbling from their Height.
Bleinem! the Hag that in the dead of Night,
My Fancy rides and drives ſoft Sleep away;
[54] The very Tyrant of my ambitious Soul,
Blaſt to my Hopes of Univerſal Sway,
Which wither ail and die when thou appear'ſt,
And only by forgetting thee Revive.
'Twas there by ſuch a raſh preſumptuous Fight,
As what thou now provok'ſt me to Repeat,
That forty Thouſand of my conqu'ring Troops,
That always conquer'd till that curſed Hour,
Were, like ripe Corn in Autumn, mow'd in Heaps;
Thoſe Heaps in Ranks extended on the Plain,
Too plenteous Harveſt of that bloody Field?
Which broke the Hearts and Spirits of the reſt,
And interrupted all my vaſt Deſigns,
Made all my Friends deſpond, my Foes inſult,
And laid my Weakneſs open to the World:
For as my greatneſs, and my awful Pow'r,
Lay in Opinion more than real Strength,
Th'Opinion which the Nations had conceiv'd,
[55] Fortune was grown Immutable as Fate,
And always would attend my conqu'ring Arms,
That fatal Days Calamities Event,
Undeceiv'd all the Chriſtian World at once,
And made me grow the very Scorn of thoſe
To whom I was moſt Terrible before.
Me would'ſt thou have repeat, the dangerous risk
Of Battle, when thou haſt thy ſelf obſerv'd,
That to ſubdue, I muſt divide my Foes,
And then enſlave them by each others Arms,
That warlike Nations ne'r were Vanquiſh'd yet
By ſofter Ones, nor Free born Souls by Slaves;
Know'ſt thou not then, that to divide my Foes,
I muſt remain, not only without Fight,
But without War, O Gods, for that bleſt Hour!
One ſhort liv'd Truce would more advance my Fame,
And ſpread my Empire, than ten Victories
[56]
He ſaid, and thus the ſubtle Fiend reply'd:
True, if Fallacious Truce thou could'ſt obtain,
I before Victory would Truce adviſe;
But ſince thy Foes have been ſo oft betray'd,
And mock'd all Hope of faithleſs Peace in vain,
Therefore the Miſchief ill Succeſs has done,
Muſt be by ſudden Victory repair'd.
Nor need'ſt thou run a dangerous risk to o'recome,
What loſt the fatal Day at Blenheim's Field?
What but Preſumption grown from long Succeſs,
Which [...]aus'd thee to abandon thy old Arts,
And vainly to rely on fanci'd Power;
Becauſe Aetheral Victory had oft
Perch'd on thy waving Streamers, when thy Troops,
By odds of Numbers overwhelm'd their Foes,
By long Succeſs grown inſolently vain;
[57] Thou fondly thought'ſt t'o'recome on equal Terms,
Unknowing of the Troops thou wert t'engage,
And wondrous Merit of their matchleſs Chief.
Hence the Diſaſter of that Fatal Day;
But when to your old Methods you return'd,
With them Succeſs and Victory return'd.
For the prevented Germans you ſurpriz'd
Upon th'Adige and th'aſtoniſh'd Rhine,
And both their Armies eaſily o'rethrew,
Both by ſuperior Numbers overwhelm'd,
And in their Leaders Abſence both oppreſt.
Ruine th'Allies upon the Belgian Plains
Oppreſt by the ſame Odds, before their Chiefs
Arrive, before their various Pow'rs are join'd.
Then with Succeſs return to thy old Arts,
And by Diviſion break their potent League,
Thy Orders ſtrait to the Bavarian ſend
[58] Thy numerous Belgian Garriſons to drain,
And ſwell thy Troops aſſembling on the Dyle;
Then as a Torrent to a Deluge ſwell'd,
Diſdains its Banks, and makes its roaring way
With dreadful Devaſtation, ſo may they,
Scorning their Lines, o'reflow th'adjacent Plains
While Deſolation marks their hideous Courſe,
And the ſurpriz'd Confederate Forces leave
The ſame eternal Monument of Pow'r,
Which at Morat the fam'd Burgundians left.
But Rouze, lay hold upon this fatal Hour,
Think that the very next may be too late:
This Hour great Marlborough for his Camp ſets forth,
Whom thou muſt ſtill induſtriouſly avoid,
Avoiding Marlborough, Lewis may be Great;
Thou haſt already felt his nervous Arm,
Whoſe towring Genius all the Genii dares,
[59] Of thy weak Marſhals, which before it Cow'r;
He the great Qualities alone enjoys,
Of all thy Chiefs who are, and who have been.
Great Conde's Spirit and his wondrous Fire,
Joyn'd with that Preſence of commanding Soul,
That keeps intirely Maſter of it ſelf,
And Maſter of the furious God of War;
When with dire Looks, and with a dreadful Roar,
He Foams, and all the God runs mad with Rage.
Great Marlborough has Luxemburgh's diſpatch,
His ſubtle Turns, and his ſagacious Views;
The Wiſdom and Sedateneſs of Turenne,
His dauntleſs Valour with his Thought profound,
And vaſt Capacity, and all that Skill,
So admirable in the Art of Death,
Which fix'd th'inconſtancy of Fortunes Will,
And made her doat on Wiſdom's Charms divine.
Rouze thy ſelf then, beware that fatal Man,
[60] Iſſue thy dread Commands this Moment out,
And let the great deciding Blow be given,
E'r Deſtiny and Marlborough arrive.
The Fury ſaid, the Tyrant gave Conſent,
To the Bavarian ſtrait his Orders ſends,
His numerous Belgian Garriſons to drain,
And ſwell his Troops aſſembling on the Dyle,
Which to the Army, thro the dreary Shades,
Thence to the various Towns the impetuous Daemon bore.
The End of the Second Book.

THE BATTLE OF RAMILLIA: OR, THE Power of UNION.
LIB. III.

[61]
AURORA had not painted yet the World,
With various Dyes, reſtoring ev'ry Hue,
That Night had with her miſcreant Hand expung'd;
Nor were th'Attendants on the Night retir'd
The ſtarry Hoſt of Heav'n, and Hoſt of Hell;
And ſtill the wakeful Dog took ſoft Repoſe,
And ſtill the prouling Wolf perſu'd his Prey,
[62] No Shepherds Pipe was on the Mountains heard,
Nor Hunters Bugle in the Ecchoing Vales;
When the ſhrill Trumpet rouz'd up drowſy Mars,
Death's Bugle in the Chaſe of Humane Blood,
The Beaſts of Nature to their Dens retir'd,
And the whole Forreſt trembled at the ſound:
The Beaſts of Nature fear'd, alas, in vain
Tho' Fate a ſolemn Hunting had prepar'd,
For Man the Huntſman was, and Man the Prey.
Before the Dawn, throughout the Belgian Plains,
The Garriſons their Tyrants Voice obey;
Forth from their ſeveral Fortreſſes they march,
From Oudenard, Courtray, Dendermond, and Liere,
From Bruſſels, Louvain, Mechlin, Antwerp, Ghent.
[63] Belgia, that lately caſt to Heav'n her Eyes
For Help, her Eyes, for Chains her Arms reſtrain'd;
Belgia, the Mother of a Hundred Towns,
Now Beautiful, and Rich, and Great, and Gay,
Once more with ſecret Pride her Sons ſurveys,
And once more boaſts of her Immortal Race;
That joyous lift their towry Fronts on high,
As when kind Nature by the help of Art,
And ſecret Influence of indulgent Heav'n,
Throws off a long and dangerous Diſeaſe;
Once more ſhe to her ſelf delightful grows,
And once more Beauty and long abſent Grace,
And Strength and Joy, unſpeakable return;
So the disburthen'd Belgian Towns rejoyc'd,
[...] which the Squadrons march by ſeveral Ways,
[64] To reach the Camp by falſe Bavaria form'd,
And there like Torrents in the Ocean joyn:
Now a more potent numerous Hoſt they ſeem'd
Than that with which the Son of Jove, the Eaſt,
Or mightier Julius overcame the Weſt.
Confiding in their Numbers they grow Fierce,
Haughty, Preſumptuous, inſolently Vain,
And their dilated Hearts diſtend with Pride,
Their Lines diſdaining with a Roar they paſs,
And the mad Torrent tow'rds Ramillia rowls:
They the Confederate Troops reſolve t'attack,
Before their various Nations all are joyn'd;
Before victorious Marlborough arrives.
Now, with a choſen few, rides Villeroy,
And falfe Bavaria, to ſurvey th'Allies;
With hideous Air, and with Gigantick Stalk,
Before them the infernal Goddeſs ſtrides.
[65] Approach'd Victorious Malborough ſhe finds
Arriv'd, and curſes the provoking ſight,
She finds that from His Preſence all the Troops
Aſſume Immortal Spirit, and an Air
So dreadful that it makes ev'n Furies ſhake,
Ev'n her the fierceſt Fiend of all the Damn'd
Now Diſcord to the Gallick Camp return'd
The falſe Bavarian's Shape and Air aſſumes,
And thus ſhe Anxious Villeroy accoſts.
Haſt thou obſerv'd, how yon Confederate Troops
Inferiour in their Numbers far to ours,
Yet carry Conqueſt in their flaming Eyes;
And yet their Veteran and their Boldeſt Troops
Have often fled before the Gallick Pow'r,
Whence now this Spirit, this Superiour Fire?
[66]
From Liberty the Mareſchal ſtrait replys,
'Tis from the Bravery of the Engliſh Troops,
Who with Immortal Liberty inſpir'd,
And with the Love of Glory all inflam'd,
Infect the Nations with Their noble Fire,
As Man was form'd to Lord it over Beaſts
Freemen were pre-ordain'd to vanquiſh Slaves
And this th'event had ſhewn in William's Reig [...]
Had but His honeſt Mind ſuſpected Thee.
To whom the Fury inſtantly reply'd,
'Tis true, the Engliſh merit all our Praiſe,
A Nation Fierce, Magnanimous and Free,
Valiant from Freedom, from their Clima [...] Brave,
Who in their fierce Attacks with Fury made,
And in their firmneſs to ſuſtain the Efforts
Of their outragious and their preſſing Foes,
[67] Equal the Warlik'ſt Nations of the World,
But in their Rallying Rage ſurpaſs them all.
Your Gallick Troops with Fury know t'aſſault,
But never yet endur'd the fierce Attacks
Of their bold Foes when obſtinately urg'd,
Our Germans with much Conſtancy ſuſtain
But when our Squadrons once are broke they'r loſt,
The Engliſh Rally ſtill with greater Rage
Than they at firſt attack th'aſtoniſh'd Foe,
While with their eager Shouts the Welkin rings.
As a fierce Bull who furiouſly contends
For the fair She that has his Heart ſubdu'd,
And for the Empire of the Flow'ry Meads,
Recedes from his proud Rival to return
With more impetuous Shock, more dreadful Rage
While with His claſh the ecchoing Vale reſounds,
[68] So when the Britons from the Field retreat
They rally with no leſs amazing Fire.
But the great Changes of the World below
Are brought about by Heav'n and not by Man;
For 'tis a Jealous God who rules the Sky,
Jealous of Glory and in Love with Praiſe.
And when the Wonders of his Might He ſhews
And brings to paſs aſtoniſhing Events,
Events which all the under World amaze,
'Tis not by Strength of Nations that He works
For that would look meer Human Might to all;
But by ſelect Celeſtial Spirits ſent
For that Deſign from His own Heav'n and form'd
Of finer Clay, and in a nobler Mould
Than are the vulgar Race of Mortal Men,
And animated with Diviner Fire.
[69] That when to all th'aſtoniſh'd World they appear
With more than Human Qualities endued,
Th'aſtoniſh'd World may be conſtrain'd to own,
And they themſelves confeſs, that what they do
Is by th'immediate Hand of Heav'n perform'd.
The nobleſt Nations have deriv'd their Fame,
And all their Greatneſs from the God-like few,
And when Theſe fail them, they are loſt, undone,
And grow the Scorn of their Inſulting Foes,
Or are quite ſwallow'd in th'Abyſs of Time.
Mareſchal, reflect on Ancient Days, and ſay,
What wondrous Acts did Perſians e're perform
Before or after their great Cyrus reign'd?
Say, was not Macedon e're Philip ſway'd
Obſcure, unworthy of the Voice of Fame?
And when victorious Alexander died,
[70] Did not its Spirit and its matchleſs Fame
And Empire with the God-like Man expire?
The Romans ow'd the Glories of their State,
And vaſt extent of Empire to a few.
As by their nobleſt Writers is confeſt.
As far as now fair England's Glory flies,
What had it done before great Edward reign'd?
Except but His and Conqu'ring Henry's Days,
Where was its Glory till Eliza came?
And by Her Wiſdom and Heroick Mind
Suſtain'd the Freedom of the Lab'ring World.
With Hers ev'n England's Life and Soul expir'd,
And then its Neighbours meanly it betray'd,
Or turn'd upon it ſelf its own inglorious Arms
Till at the laſt the God-like William came,
He came, and their declining Spirits rais'd,
He gave them their Religion, and their Anne,
She Freedom and the Might of Malb'rough gave
[71]
As William was betray'd, undone by me,
Mareſchal by us great Malborough too muſt fall
On which depends to morrow's fatal Day.
For from His Preſence yon audacious Troops
Derive the dauntleſs Spirit in their Eyes,
From which they flaſh intollerable Fire.
Ev'n thou thy ſelf, for I remark'd it well;
Thou wert agreeably ſurpriz'd and rais'd
When his Auguſt Appearance thou beheld'ſt
Worthy the Grandeur of th'immortal Mind,
Commanding as the Form of the firſt Man,
While His great Maker's Image He retain'd,
And Empire ſate upon his Lordly Brow,
The World's Imperial Ruler and his own,
Before Celeſtial Reaſon had been taught
Her Subject Paſſion poorly to obey,
And the degenerating Mind debas'd
The Majeſty and Empire of the Meen.
[72]
When e're His Troops behold that noble Form,
All His great Actions, all His high Exploits,
Preſent themſelves before their wondring Minds,
Gelderland conquer'd with its warlike Towns
And Liege and Limbourgh as by Magick riſe,
And to their view preſent their ſtately Tow'rs,
Dire Schellenbourg's impenetrable Fort
Carried againſt the Choice of all our Pow'rs,
And Bleinem's everlaſting Day appears
And ſtunns with Rapture their aſtoniſh'd Minds.
The Trumpet with its Clangour tears their Ears,
And then they charge, and once again they fight
Their Battles o're, and triumph once again,
And then the World wants force t'oppoſe their Pow'r,
[73] Whom to defeat we Malborough muſt deſtroy,
For firmly yon audacious Troops believe
'Tis not from Fortune theſe Succeſſes flow,
But from the Wiſdom of their wondrous Chief,
His vaſt Capacity, his flaming Zeal,
His reſtleſs Labour and perpetual Thought,
His dreadleſs Spirit and His juſt Deſigns,
Indeed ſo juſt have been His great Deſigns,
So exquiſite His Conduct, ſo profound,
Not one falſe ſtep in Four renown'd Campaigns,
So bright His humble Modeſty has ſhone
In ſtill conſulting His Illuſtrious Friends,
His Counſellors ſo few, ſo juſtly choſe,
His Secrets kept from the moſt piercing Eyes,
His Conſtancy in executing all
That has ſo well conſulted been, ſo firm,
His Spirit as a Captain ſo ſublime
And as a Souldier ſo Invincible,
[74] That Mareſchal to remove Him we muſt Hire
The fierceſt and moſt deſperate of thy Men,
For my Bavarians will that Task refuſe,
Or Twenty Thouſand of yon braveſt Troops
Will leſs obſtruct our great Succeſs than He.
Hadſt thou beheld at Bleinem's dreadful Field
In the Diſtreſs of the ſtupend'ous Day,
This matchleſs Man at once a prudent Chief
And a moſt daring Combatant, ſupply
With His own Valour ev'ry preſt Brigade,
Each brave Battalion of His fainting Hoſt;
For whereſoever Death and Danger flew
T'appall His Squadrons with their ghaſtly glare,
There Malborough on the Wings of Thunder flew
Till He brought Conqueſt back and won the Day,
Till Fate He with Majeſtick Meen diſpens'd,
[75] And ſeem'd the dreadful Delegate of Jove;
Hadſt thou ſeen this at Bleinem's dreadful Field,
Mareſchal, thou wouldſt of Victory deſpair,
Or elſe conclude this fatal Man muſt die.
But could'ſt thou with a ſharp ſagacious Eye
Survey the wonders of his matchleſs Mind,
What Apprehenſion then would pierce thy Breaſt,
Then what Aſtoniſhment would ſtrike thy Mind?
For, O the jarring Talents which appear,
Uniting all their Factions in His Soul!
The Heat, the Cold, the Livelineſs, the Weight,
The Gravity, th'aſtoniſhing Diſpatch,
The Providence, the Intrepidity,
The Fire and the Sedateneſs of His Soul,
And the Revenging Thunder of His Might
Diſcharg'd without a Tempeſt on His Breaſt,
[76] Or a black lowring Cloud upon His Brow!
Tempeſts without He raiſes and He calms,
But His great Mind immovable remains.
And theſe great Qualities by turns He ſhews,
Not as His Fancy, Humour, Paſſion call,
But guided all by Wiſdom's ſacred Law,
As he who made this all the Seaſons guides,
And alters Hot and Dry, and Moiſt and Cold,
By what the changing Univerſe requires.
Is't poſſible we can a Moment doubt
If we this dangerous General ſhall deſtroy,
Who having theſe repugnant Talents joyn'd
Confederated in his mighty Soul,
Talents which none beſides of Human kind
Enjoys, appears deſign'd by all-wiſe Heav'n,
Who nought creates in vain to perform Deeds
Surpaſſing all the reſt of Mortal Race.
Who the great Qualities of twenty Chiefs
[77] Poſſeſſing ſtill atchieves the Exploits of more
Whoſe Paſſion for his own accurſed Cauſe
So flaming is, ſo deadly is His Hate,
And ſo invincible to us and ours,
That not content to act in His own Sphere,
And ev'ry Hour new Wonders to perform,
He does the Duty with unwearied Pains
Of Foreign Generals, which with all their Thought,
And all the God-like Greatneſs of their Souls
They were unable to perform themſelves.
Where-ever the Allies appear in Arms
Their brave Battalians Malb'rough's Influence feel.
With Him their nobleſt Actions they concert,
He furniſhes their braveſt Chiefs with Troops,
And with unhop'd for Treaſure He ſupplies.
Yet while to others He gives Pow'r to act
[78] His own unwearied Vigilence is ſuch,
His Care, His Labour, His eternal Thought,
As if all others had refus'd to act,
As if th'inimitable Man were left
With Atlantean Shoulders to ſuſtain
The more than Mortal Burden of the War.
Indeed whatever has been greatly done
In Germany, or in the Belgian Plains,
Has under his Auſpicious Power been done:
For He obſerving with Judicious Thought,
That thro' a tedious War your Gallick Pow'rs
By the Diviſion of th'Allies prevail'd,
Or ow'd Their Conqueſts to My ſecret Arts
Or by their Numbers gain'd their great Succeſs
That They the Field eternally declin'd
Unleſs by vaſt Advantages ſuſtain'd,
As conſcious of the Weakneſs of their Cauſe,
[79] The Weakneſs of their boldeſt Veteran Troops
And falſeneſs of Imaginary Pow'r,
Which Two ſet Battles fought on equal Terms
Would ſoon demonſtrate to the Chriſtian World,
That ev'n in Fight they cloſe Engagement ſhunn'd
Till they had tam'd their moſt intrepid Foes
By odds of Numbers wearied and oppreſt,
He this remarking with ſagacious Thought
His Conduct in each Point to theirs oppos'd,
And chang'd the Form and Fortune of the War.
By His eternal Vigilance His Troops
Are ſtill too numerous to be flank'd by ours;
And while He meditates His great Exploits,
His ſecret, His impenetrable Heart
Defended ſtands from Treaſon's piercing Eye,
(That Caution from great William's Fate he drew)
[80] Then He the fatal Hour of Combat ſeeks
And finds with penetrating Thought, or makes
Either half-way, he Bald Occaſion meets,
Or like a Hunter He perſues her Flight,
Till ſhe at Bay her cluſtring Forelock turns,
Then in the dreadful Field aſſails your Pow'rs,
Nor ſuffers you with Fury to aſſault;
For which you by the Chriſtian World are fam'd.
Nor wages then a cool and diſtant War,
But preſſes on you with redoubled Might;
And in upon your firmeſt Squadrons breaks
Till with his Horſe their ſhatter'd Ranks he tears,
Nor made by Nature, nor by Climate form'd
The Thunder of ſuch Fury to ſuſtain;
And chiefly, which has render'd Him to us
A dangerous and a formidable Foe,
[81] That no Diviſions fraudulently ſown
Among th'Allies might hurt the general Cauſe,
There is but one who breaths th'Aetherial Air,
And ev'n that one is Malborough's ſecond ſelf,
So careful to augment or to maintain
Among the various Potentates abroad;
That Union which with a Celeſtial Voice
Great Anna to her Brittains recommends;
He obviates growing Feuds, Diſſenſions grown
He reconciles, the Intereſts He adjuſts,
And He concerts of each Confederate Pow'r,
And in one general Intereſt mingles all,
As Streams from Eaſt and Weſt, and North and South,
Are mix'd in Ocean's vaſt Abyſs, and loſt.
He Nations, and their Kings, with Thoughts inſpires,
[82] Above all little, ſelfiſh, low Deſigns,
And fills them with a publick glorious Fire.
In all theſe things the wondrous Man's concern'd,
Which ſo deſtructive are to us and ours;
With ſo much Zeal, with ſuch Aſſiduous Thought,
With ſuch unwearied Pains, no length of Time,
Nor any Diſtance of Remoteſt Place,
Nor the Intemperance of Heat and Cold,
Nor Pleaſures ſpecious and alluring Bait,
(The God like Man, alas, no Pleaſure knows,
But what the Ruler of yon Heav'n purſues,
To do great Good and Glory to acquire)
No, nor the baſe Ingratitude of thoſe,
Whom Day and Night He watches to preſerve,
[83] Nor ought that Earth, nor ought that Hell invents;
Nought but the Stroke of Deſtiny alone
Is able to obſtruct His generous Courſe,
Is able to retard His noble Speed
In the Carrier of everlaſting Fame.
But with Himſelf He high Deſigns revolves,
Or thoſe who execute thoſe high Deſigns
With that familiar Greatneſs He receives,
Which makes Him the Delight of all the Good,
And the Felicity of all the Brave.
As from theſe wondrous Talents in Him joyn'd
All that aſtoniſhing Succeſs proceeds
Which is become the Darling Theme of Fame,
The Theme on which th'eternal Talker doats,
So by that high Succeſs is Malbrough grown
[84] The Joy of all the Happy Nations round,
The Hope and Conſolation of the Reſt,
The Confident of the moſt Jealous States,
The great Example of Earth's Demy-gods,
And the juſt wonder of the Chriſtian World.
But with the Squadrons who his Voice obey
So ſacred His Authority is grown,
So is He honour'd, lov'd, almoſt ador'd
By the brave Souldier His adopted Care,
Whom with a pious Father's tendereſt Love
He guards from Danger and from Want He ſhields,
That when, nor Intereſts loud and pow'rful Voice,
Nor ſmarting Shame, nor their dear Countrey's Love,
Nor love of Glory longer can prevail
Upon their fainting Spirits to ſuſtain
[85] The fierce Attacks of our Aſſaulting Bands,
His Meen, His great Appearance fires their Souls,
His potent Voice the Squadrons new creates,
Gives them new Life, new Spirit and new Hope,
Nay, certainty of Conqueſt and of Fame,
But Mareſhal for ſome Time I have obſerv'd
Surprize, and Joy, and Wonder in thy Eyes.
To whom tranſported Villeroy replys;
Tis true, with Joy and Wonder I have heard
Thy generous Praiſe of ſuch a deadly Foe:
For when ſo many Engliſh have been found
Who have with baſeſt Calumnies repaid
His mighty Benefits as great and ſtrong
As ever Hero on his Country laid,
That Thou ſhouldſt do the glorious Hero right,
Thou, who by force of His victorious Arm
[86] Art fall'n from ſuch a Height, O whither fall'n!
Fall'n from thy Empire, from thy Glory fall'n,
From thoſe which Thou enjoy'dſt, and from the Hope
Of Thoſe at which Thy vaſt Ambition aim'd,
That thou ſhouldſt do the wondrous Hero right,
That thou ſhouldſt draw the lovely Features like,
And place the noble Piece in its true Light,
Shews ſomething ſo magnanimouſly great
As all the generous Engliſh would extol,
And God-like Malborough himſelf admire.
To whom the Fury in Bavaria's Form,
The Praiſe I merit not, I muſt refuſe,
'Tis not a generous Frailty in my Mind,
[87] But great Revenge, the Attribute of Gods,
That makes me juſt to Malborough's hateful Name.
Small Generoſity's requir'd to praiſe
A Merit which by all the World's extoll'd,
And which in ſpight of Slanders cankring Bite,
Will be th'eternal Ornament of Fame.
If keen Detraction could have hurt His Name
Or Perſon, I Detraction would have us'd.
For 'tis with bittereſt Gall that I extol
The Hero, whom to cruſh I muſt commend.
Since Calumnies have been eſſay'd in vain,
And Slanders of the blackeſt hue been tryed
At once his Fame and Perſon to deſtroy,
And againſt Both have ſignified no more
Than Morning Miſts againſt the Julian Sun,
His riſing Glory has diſpell'd them all;
'Tis time to try what Truth may effect at laſt,
[88] And on her own loud Champion turn her Arms.
This Hero I in juſt proportions drew,
That thou may'ſt be convinc'd by the rich Draught,
The way t'attack th'Allies with wiſh'd Succeſs
Is this pernicious General to deſtroy,
That whole Brigades leſs Dangerous are than He.
That while yon Troops His noble Form inſpires,
They will Impenetrable ſtill remain,
And Fate will follow him as it does Jove.
If then our Intereſt's pretious in our Eyes,
If Victory has Charms for our great Minds,
If Glory, if the vaſt, th'inſpiring Cauſe
For which great Lewis ſteels our nervous Arms,
Which is the Empire of the Univerſe,
[89] Can thaw our Blood, our drooping Spirits raiſe,
We muſt the boldeſt of your Men ſuborn
This Formidable Hero to deſtroy,
Or elſe expect a ſecond Bleinem here,
Thou wilt in ſhameful Bonds once more be led
As thou by Conquering Eugene wert before,
Or grow the Object of the Peoples Scorn
And the Pariſian Rabbles Headſtrong Rage,
And I ſhall from my Government be chas'd,
As from Bavaria I before was driven.
The Fury ſaid, and Villeroy turn'd Pale,
And look'd with Eyes unwilling to conſent,
Yet fearful to deny; which when the Fiend
Obſerv'd, ſhe with Imperious Tone rejoyn'd,
Think 'tis thy Abſolute, thy Awful Lord,
Tis Lewis who commands thee to obey,
Canſt thou aſſiſt an Arbitrary King,
[90] To make His boundleſs Will His only Law,
And then examine if that Will be juſt?
Know'ſt thou not that 'tis criminal in Slaves
T'affect more Virtue than their Tyrants ſhew.
She ſaid, when with prevailing Shades the Night
Came on, and Villeroy's Confuſion hid;
Under whoſe Pitchy Mantle both conceal'd
To execute their dire Deſign retir'd.
The End of the Third Book.

LIB. IV.

[91]
WHile Diſcord by great Malb'rough's Fate contrives
T'extend the Empire of Hells dreadful ſway
The World's Almighty Ruler with that Eye,
That ſees thro' all th'Infinitude of Space,
That ſees thro' all th'Infinitude of Time,
From th'Empyrean views the Raving Fiend,
And to the Son th'Eternal Father ſpeaks,
And while He ſpeaks the Angels drop their Lyres,
And all their melting Hallelujahs ceaſe;
The Heav'ns with all their Jocund Orbs are ſtill,
Are huſh'd, attentive to the Voice Divine,
To which their Sounds are Diſcord, all the Globes
[92] That rowl thro' Space Immenſe a Moment reſt,
A Moment their Eternal Courſe ſuſpend,
And tremble while their great Creator ſpeaks.
Behold, he to the Filial Godhead ſays,
With how much Fury our outragious Foe
Proceeds His impious Vice-Roy to maintain,
Againſt our Servant and Vicegerent Anne,
How againſt Malb'rough's Life he Diſcord Arms,
And ſhe the fierceſt of the French ſuborns
T'aſſault Him in to Morrow's wrathful Field.
Let us againſt the Raging Fiend oppoſe
One of our Angels burning moſt with Zeal,
And moſt with bliſsful Charity inſpir'd,
Let Him deſcend and with Celeſtial Might
Reſiſt the Malice of Infernal Rage,
And betwixt Malborough interpoſe and Fate,
That he may Conquer and that we may Reign,
[93] And all the Nations joyn in Bonds of Love,
And Quiet to the weary World return.
He ſaid, the Angelick Bands reſume their Lyres,
And their tranſporting Symphonies renew,
Th'Harmonious Spheres renew their wondrous Dance,
With Hallelujahs Heaven again reſounds,
Immortal Tranſport runs thro' ev'ry Mind,
Immortal Pleaſure brightens ev'ry Face,
In Circles the Angelick Bands embrace,
And ruſh into each others Arms with Joy
Which Tongues of Angels never can expreſs,
And never can the Heart of Man conceive,
And ev'ry Circle in Seraphick Song
The God of Union ſings, the God of Peace.
[94]
Next to the Deity there ſtood an Orb
Of glorious Seraphim, a wondrous Orb,
Who had the Wings, the Brightneſs and the Power
Of mighty Seraphim but Human Forms,
Of all the bright Inhabitants of Heaven,
None burn'd with bliſsful Charity like them,
Or copied th'Eternal Son like them;
Like Him in Human Shape they appear'd in Heav'n,
Like Him they once had Bodies of frail Fleſh,
And ſojourn'd here in Mortal Limbs below,
And long with Death and Dangers here they ſhone
And Mortal Miſery and Mortal Care
The Nations to unite in Bonds of Peace,
And vindicate the warring Saints below
From the abhorr'd uſurping Reign of Hell,
[95] From foul Idolatry and lawleſs Pow'r,
And [...]pread Meſſiah's Righteous Kingdom here
Of Sacred Liberty and Sacred Law,
And of Religion undefil'd and pure.
And here, when they had ſuffer'd much and long,
And bore what none but Godlike Minds could bear,
Th'Immortal Spirits broke their Mortal Bands,
And ſwift aſcended to the Heav'n of Heav'ns
Triumphant, there in Human likeneſs ſate
(That Human likeneſs which on Earth they grac'd)
Near to the Son of Man in Bliſs enthron'd,
And ſome Reſemblance of His Glory bore
As of His Sufferings they before had born.
[96]
To this refulgent and this wondrous Orb
The Filial Godhead thus himſelf addreſ [...]
Ye Hoſt of Seraphim who once were Men
Who bore the Miſery of Mortal Life
Like me, and bore the cruel Pains of Death
T'unite Mankind among themſelves in Love,
And ſpread my Father's Kingdom over Earth;
Which of ye freely will deſcend to ſave
The Brittiſh Hero from impending Fate,
Him who in Charity the Nations binds
And Pious Anna's Conqu'ring Hoſt commands,
That we may triumph, and that we may reign,
Him Lucifer and Diſcord raging Fiends
Contrive with Helliſh Fury to deſtroy.
Forth from the Spirits of that ſhining Orb
A glorious Spirit ſhoots on gorgeous Wings,
Wings with bright Purple and with Gold array'd,
[97] And down before the Sovereign Throne he lights.
Of all th'Angelick Sanctities of Heav'n
None fill'd the Empyrean with the Fame
Of what He acted and He ſuffer'd here
Like Him, no Angel of all Heav'n like Him
Breath'd forth Immortal Love to Mortal Men.
A Crown of Radiant Beams adorn'd His Head,
And wing'd His Shoulders were, and wing'd His Feet,
Lightning ſerene flew darting from His Eyes,
And Lightning round his radiant Temples plaid.
And in his Face there much Reſemblance ſhone
Of Him who once this happy Iſland ſway'd.
Who mov'd by Charity for wretched Men
That He the lab'ring Nations might preſerve
Came flying on the Wings of all the Winds,
And reſcued ſinking Brittain from Her Fate.
[98] His Face much likeneſs of His Earthly Bloom,
But a more heightned beauteous likeneſs bore,
For now inſtead of Miſery and Care,
And fatal Diſappointment, fatal Woe,
And all the Frailties that on Duſt attend,
Upon His Countenance perpetual Youth,
Celeſtial Vigour and Celeſtial Bloom,
And Immortality appear'd, and Joy
Eternal, Inexpreſſible, Divine.
On His firſt Motion th'Empyrean Heav'n
With tuneful Shouts of Acclamation rung,
Th'Harmonious Thunder of Extatick Joy.
When ev'ry Angel clap'd His Golden Wings,
And ev'ry Angel ſtruck His wondrous Lyre,
And ſung His Praiſe in high Seraphick Song,
Who could vouchſafe to leave Eternal Joys,
And could to Earth the Seat of Woe deſcend,
[99] Where he had born what never Mortal bore,
To reſcue Malb'rough His adopted Care.
'Tis like thy ſelf, like thy own fervent Zeal,
Thou good and faithful Servant, ſaid the Son.
With ſpeed then to the rowling Earth deſcend,
And thereupon to morrow's wrathful Day
The Day for Vengeance pre-ordain'd by us,
Defend thy Malborough in Ramillia's Plain,
And He the Chriſtian World will there defend.
But e're the Sun diſpells the Shades of Night,
Preſent thy ſelf in Viſion to His Eyes,
And with Celeſtial Hope His Soul inſpire
Of preſent Conqueſt, and of future Fame
On Earth, and of Eternal Glory here.
Tell Him of Provinces by Union's Pow'r
Deliver'd in Ramillia's fatal Plain;
Lay His own Danger too before His Eyes
[100] But hide th'event of that, that His great Soul
And dreadleſs Virtue may be fully try'd,
And may to Earth and Heav'n more glorious ſhine.
With Joy deſcend, to honour thy Deſcent
On it, a wondrous Birth of Fate attends,
A wondrous change in Europe ſhall be wrought,
Ten thouſand Terrours ſhall attend thy flight
And Vengeance to amaze the Impious World.
The Time by high Foreknowledge pre-ordain'd
At laſt is come when Satan ſhall no more,
Nor his Vicegerent Tyrants plague the Earth.
But Lewis was permitted to attain
To ſuch uncommon Height of Lawleſs Pow'r,
As Pelgia, Italy and Spain to add
To former Countries impiouſly obtain'd,
To graſp the Indies in his Threatning Hand,
[101] And in his Thought the Empire of the Earth,
That Vengeance ſent from us might pierce him more
By his ſurpizing unexpected Fall;
And the Example ſtrike the Impious World
With greater Terrour, and our Hand appear.
When He who has been fifty rowling Years
Raiſing the Fabrick of his Pow'r to Heav'n
Shall find it in a Moment daſh'd to Hell
By the Revenging Thunder of our Might;
When all the Turbant Tyrants of the Eaſt
From Boſphorus to fartheſt Indies climb
Shall hear their Weſtern Brother's fall, ſhall hear
And tremble at his Ruines hideous Sound:
When Men turn'd Atheiſts by his long Succeſs
Shall be confounded and turn pale and ſhake,
And own there is a Being far-above
And an amazing Providence beyond
[102] What their weak Minds have pow'r to comprehend;
Then Impious War ſhall vex the Earth no more,
But Love Divine ſhall Human Hearts unite,
And Peace ſhall to the wearied World return.
He ended, and the Angel bowing low
Towards Earth precipitates his glorious flight
While th Empyrean Thunder loudly roars:
Th'Angelick Lyres, and Dulcimers, and Lutes,
And ſolemn Organs change their melting Strains,
And with fierce Warlike Symphony reſound;
And when the Inſtruments Divine repoſe
Again the Thunder bellows thro' the Sky;
To that the Inſtruments again Reſpond,
And thrice the Thunder, thrice the wrathful Lyres
[103] Alternate dreadful Sounds throughout the Sky.
Tremendous Signal of Revenge Divine
Of Vengeance to be executed now,
The Terrours of th'Almighty take th'Alarm,
And after the deſcending Angel fly.
As thro' the Atmoſphere He wheels His flight,
And cleaves with His Eternal Plumes the Air,
Of golden Light He draws a glorious Trail,
He gilds the paler Moon's Reſplendent Beams,
He gilds the Silver Clouds with Golden Dye;
And all th Illuſtrious Horrours of the Night.
Th'Infernal Spirits from His paſſage fly,
And all the wing'd ill Omens of the Air;
And Care, and Pain, and Sorrow, and Deſpair
Fly from His Sacred Preſence far away.
Before him Peace, Tranquillity and Joy,
Immortal Pleaſures march before, behind
Th'amazing Terrours of th'Almighty march.
[104]
As near to Judoignes fatal Plain He flew,
Like a deſcending Star direct He ſhoots
Into the Tent where Mighty Malb'rough lay,
And in a Dream fought great Ramillia's Field.
But ev'n in Sleep his Paſſions he controuls
With Independant and with Lordly Sway,
His very Dream was regular, ſerene,
No Fear nor Rage diſturb'd his God-like Mind
Whom th'Angel now deſcended thus ſalutes.
Hail Champion of the Sacred Cauſe of Heav'n!
Hail Ornament of Earth! hail Dread of Hell!
Illuſtrious Soul call'd out by me and Fate
To turn the Fortune of the Weſtern World.
From the bright Realms of Everlaſting Joy
With Pleaſure I am ſent to viſit Thee,
O worthy Succeſſour to me in Arms!
[105] O Care of Heav'n! O Delegate of Fate!
How have I been ſollicitous beyond
What is allow'd to bliſsful Minds above
For Anna, for Britannia, and for Thee!
And yet when I aſcended up to Heav'n
I neither Her nor thee entirely left;
For at my parting I left Friends below—
O Men, with whom ev'n Angels may conſult,
And on the Firmneſs of their faithful Zeal,
And on their vaſt Capacity depend!
For all my Friends are Anna's Friends and Thine,
And will unchangeably reſpect my choice;
But Hell and Hell's dire Miſſionaries here
With Rage implacable thy Life purſue,
For Bleinem in their Minds has fix'd deep Wounds,
Wounds which no length of Days can cure, but Time
[106] Exulcerates, and Feſters, and Gangrenes.
From Bleinem's mortal Day worſe Days they expect
No leſs than Ruine of their Empire here;
Therefore to Morrow all their Mortal Darts
Will levell'd be at thy Illuſtrious Head,
And imminent the Danger is and great.
But Danger will but raiſe the noble Fire
Of Thy exalted Soul intent on things
Above this groveling and this worthleſs World.
And if thou fall'ſt, like Sampſon Thou wilt fall,
And bitterly Thy Foes lament Thy Fate;
Whatever for Thy Perſon Heav'n ordains,
Yet Heav'n its Champion never will permit
To leave the World inglorious, unreveng'd,
A wondrous Victory attends thy Arms,
Great in it ſelf and in its Sequel vaſt,
Whoſe ecchoing Sound thro' all the Weſt ſhall run.
[107] Tranſporting the glad Nations all around,
Who oft ſhall doubt, and oft ſuſpend their Joy,
And oft imagine all an empty Dream;
The Conquerour himſelf ſhall cry amaz'd,
'Tis not our Work, alas we did it not,
The Hand of God, the Hand of God is here
For Thee, ſo great ſhall be thy high Renown,
That Fame ſhall think no Muſick like thy Name:
Around the circling Globe it ſhall be ſpread,
And to the World's laſt Ages ſhall endure.
Heroes of Ancient Times Thou ſhalt eclipſe,
And the moſt lofty moſt aſpiring Man,
Shall want th'Aſſurance in his ſecret Pray'rs
To ask ſuch high Felicity and Fame
As Heav'n has freely granted Thee, yet this
That ſeems ſo great, ſo glorious to Thee now
Would look how low, how vile to Thy great Mind,
[108] If I could ſet before thy aſtoniſh'd Eyes
Th'exceſs of Glory and th'exceſs of Bliſs
That is prepar'd for Thy aſpiring Soul
When Thou arriv'ſt at everlaſting Day.
O could embodied Mind but comprehend
The Glories of the Intellectual World,
Or I the bliſsful Secret were allowd;
But Fate forbids, to Mortals to reveal,
O I could lay a Scene before thy Eyes
Which would diſtract Thee with tranſporting Joy;
Fire the rich Blood in thy Illuſtrious Veins,
Make ev'ry Nerve with fierce Convulſions ſtart,
Blaſt all thy Spirits and thy Life deſtroy,
Thou could'ſt not taſt th'extatick Bliſs and live:
As one who has liv'd thirty tedious Years,
[109] And ever ſince his wretched Birth been Dark,
His viſual Orbs with cloudy Films o'recaſt,
And in the Dungeon of the Body dwelt
In utter Ignorance of Nature's Works
And Wonders of this vaſt material World,
And has no Notion e're conceiv'd of Light,
Or Colours, or the verdant Flow'ry Earth,
Or the ſtupendous proſpect of the Sky;
If then he finds ſome Artiſt whoſe nice Hand
Couches the Cataracts and clears his Eyes,
And all at once a Flood of glorious Light,
And this bright Temple of the Univerſe,
The cryſtal Firmament, the blazing Sun,
All th'amazing Glories of the Heavens,
All the great Maker's high Magnificence
Come ruſhing thro' His Eyes upon His Soul,
He cannot bear th'aſtoniſhing Delight,
But ſtarts, exclaims, and ſtamps, and raves, and dies:
[110] So the vaſt Glories of the upper World,
If they were ſet before embodied Mind
Would oppreſs Nature and extinguiſh Life.
For all the Beauties of the World that's ſeen
As glorious as they look to Human Eyes
Are little, are contemptible to them,
Like glimmering Star-light to the Blaze of Day.
For Thee let this ſuffize the Share of Bliſs
And Glory that's prepar'd for Thee above,
Is ſuch as ſhall diſtinguiſh Thee from moſt:
For ſince the Glory of the Juſt in Heav'n
Is equal to their Charity on Earth,
What muſt be thine who labour'ſt to unite,
Who labour'ſt to felicitate a World.
[111]
I ſay not this to fortifie thy Mind
Againſt the Fear of Death, Thou haſt no Fear,
For Thou haſt been familiar with Him long,
Been often dauntleſs with Him Face to Face,
And calmly look'd upon His Gorgon Eye,
As finding nothing there t'affright a Soul
That conſcious is of Glory, Bliſs and Life,
Unbounded all as vaſt Eternity.
Ev'n I not more intrepid was on Earth
Than Thou, nor am not more undaunted now:
But this is ſaid, that on this dreadful Day
Thou may'ſt do Deeds that may excel ev'n thine,
And ſurpaſs Him who all the World tranſcends.
Thou ſhalt have Millions of Immortal Minds
Glorious Spectators of thy Immortal Acts,
[112] And tow'ring o're Thee ſtill Thou ſhalt behold
Bright Victory and me, he ſaid, and now
The ſtormy Drum awak'd the Pow'rs of War,
And now the Angel diſappears from ſight,
And His Bright Shape diſſolves into the Morn.
The End of the Fourth Book.

LIB. V.

[113]
FULL of the glorious Viſion Malborough wakes,
For when the Angel vaniſh'd from His Eyes,
He ſhot half Heav'n into the Heroes Mind,
His Mind was with Immortal Hope inſpir'd,
Celeſtial Confidence, Celeſtial Fire,
A Flame that in his noble Breaſt aſpir'd
To things above the Greatneſs of this World,
And Joy which Human Hearts can ne're conceive,
Unſpeakable, Tranſporting, yet Serene,
Wiſdom's Serene Companion and Her Friend,
Prophetick of Felicity and Fame.
Awak'd, He riſes from His Bed in haſte,
And after Him in haſt the Sun aroſe,
[114] Impatient to behold his wondrous Deeds.
Gazing He ſees the Grandeur of his Meen
Exalted with a Dreadful Majeſty;
And all the Honours heightned of His Eyes,
And all th'Heroick Virtues of His Mind,
All but His great Contempt of Death encreas'd,
For that was Sovereign in His Soul before,
And while the Sun above th'Horizon roſe
Ten thouſand brighter Glories from the Skies
Deſcended to behold, or to aſſiſt
In the Contention of th'Eternal Day.
For the Immortal Day was to decide
No trifling ſmall Affairs, no mean Diſpute,
The Limits of ſmall Kingdoms, or the Bounds
Of poor Provincial Tributary Lords,
But the Contention of th'Eternal Day
Was to decide in great Ramillia's Field,
[115] If God ſhould reign o're His own Works below,
Or Hell uſurp them with Tyrannick Sway.
And now the dreadful Trumpet ſounds to Arms,
When diſtant Clangours are like Ecchoes heard,
Th'Angelick Trumpet of Celeſtial Fame,
Which to Immortal Deeds excites their Souls.
And now they march t'attack th'embattel'd Foe,
And now in terrible Array appear,
Awaiting their Commanders Awful Voice,
Like Tempeſts low'ring in the Heav'ns they look
That black'ning all the Sky in ſilence ſtand
Before th'outragious Wrack of Heav'n begins,
Like the Virgilian God of Winds their Chief,
Who muſters ſounding Storms and rules their Rage.
With pleaſure He their Martial Eyes ſurveys
[116] And finds them with Heroick Rage inſpir'd,
He finds they want no Speech to raiſe their Souls
To mightieſt Deeds, for in their Eyes He ſees
They have already gain'd the glorious Day.
Up to the Heav'ns His Eyes the Hero caſts,
And there the Angel with His flaming Sword
And Victory with Eagles Wings He ſpies
Towring along the vaſt Aethereal Space.
And now a glorious Flame from Heav'n deſcends
And agitates and ſhakes His mighty Soul:
And this is the firſt Hour that e're He found
Its Movements difficult to be reſtrain'd,
With Ardor ſtrait He gives the fatal Word,
And now the Trumpet ſounds the dreadful Charge,
And like the laſt Eternal Trump it ſounds,
[117] For now at hand the End of Time appears,
And the expiring Worlds laſt ghaſtful Hour,
For Hideous is the Face of Nature now,
The Heav'ns are all on fire, the Welkin burns,
Earth trembles, and the Air tormented groans.
The warring Elements, Earth, Air and Fire
Are raging in ſtupend'ous motion all,
And Earth with Air confounded, and with Fire.
And Burſts of horrid Thunder rend the Heav'ns
And ſeem to be expiring Natures Groans;
But no ſwift Motion, no Impetuous Rage
Of miſſive Earth, or of exploded Air,
Or of expanded Fire can equal half
Th'outragious Motions of undaunted Minds
Divinely ſwift in Tenements of Clay.
[118]
While to th'Attack th'embattell'd Squadrons move,
And claſhing with amazing Fury joyn,
On one ſide th'Angel and bright Victory,
On th'other Diſcord with th'Infernal Pow'rs
And all the Auxiliaries of Heaven and Hell
Their mighty Movements for a while ſuſpend
The Motions of frail Mortals to behold,
Who Tranſports of Immortal Fury ſhew
Above the weak Condition of poor Duſt
Above the frail Concerns of wretched Men.
While wondring they behold with all their Eyes
The whole Confederate and the Gallick Pow'rs
Raging and working like divided Seas
Which Adverſe Storms againſt each other drive,
While Jove's Artillery rattling o're them flies,
[119] All their admiring Eyes are chiefly bent
On Malborough's ev'ry Motion, ev'ry Look,
Next Him Argyle drew all their wondring Eyes,
Argyle the Young, the Beautiful, the Brave,
Fit for deep Counſels ev'n in early Bloom,
Of Thought profound, without Experience Wiſe,
Without the Ruinous Expence of Years;
In Counſel all Sedateneſs and all Thought
But in the Bloody Field all Rage, all Fire;
Champion of Union in the Bloody Field,
Where ſtill the God-like Youth made War for Peace.
In Cabinets He Union too advis'd,
And in grave Senates conſtantly He ſtrove
The jarring Nations to unite in Love.
With dreadful Majeſty great Malborough march'd,
[120] And like the fancied God of War He look'd,
When He flies Thund'ring o're the Plains of Thrace,
And Terrours march before His Iron Carr,
And ſounding Devaſtation comes behind.
Argyle was like the fancied God of Love
When He contracts His Brow and bends His Bow,
And drawing his Inevitable Shafts
Wounds deeply Human Breaſts t'unite their Hearts.
Without their furious Britons both appear,
And Foreign Squadrons to the Charge they lead.
But Germans, Danes and Dutch turn Britons all
When Britons Genius in its God-like Chiefs
Shines out, and fires them to Immortal Deeds,
And leads them to the Charge, unknowing to retire.
[121]
O would ſome Angel give me force to paint
The dreadful ſtalk of Diſcords ſounding March,
Between conflicting Hoſts, before her march'd
Ten thouſand Terrours, Natives all of Hell,
Commanded by their grizly Monarch Death.
Each ſtride entrench'd the Earth on which ſhe ſtrode,
The Air was tempeſted, the Aether frown'd,
Mean while the Snaky Horrours of her Head
Were wrapt in pitchy Clouds, from which her Eyes
Red Lightning Dart, and Thunder was her Voice.
As ſternly ſhe the Field of Death ſurveys,
And finds that Fate in ev'ry other part
Was doubtful, but where mighty Malb'rough ſhin'd,
There Victory, there Deſtiny declar'd;
[122] She gives a monſtrous Yell that frighting ſhakes
The utmoſt Fortreſſes of Belgian Land;
The Mountains tremble at the horrid Din,
The Vales re-bellow to the monſtrous Roar.
When thus the Terrours and their grizly King
The Fury in a frightful Tone accoſts.
Have ye then found an over-match at laſt?
Are ye contented baſely to ſubmit
To the Efforts of yon Confederate Pow'rs?
O're which till Malb'rough at their Head appear'd
Ye always have prevail'd, nay now prevail
O're Squadrons which remote from Him engage,
But ſee He comes, this Thunderbolt of War!
Look how againſt the Storm He Headlong drives!
[123] By all that's Impious upon us He drives!
Nay now, He's in the midſt of us! He's here!
He unconcern'd and only we amaz'd!
Is it then poſſible that one frail Man
Can thus reſiſt the Force of all your Pow'rs,
And drive you frighted back upon your Friends?
And can ye poorly bear th'extream Affront?
Ye Hoſt of Terrours and thou grizly Death,
If ye are Terrours arm'd with deadly Stings,
If thou art Death, my cruel Off-ſpring Death,
And not an empty Bugbear to ſcare Boys;
Oh fly, oh ſeize, diſpatch th'audacious wretch
Oh pierce Him, ſtab Him in the vitall ſt Part!
Ha! how agaſt with ſtupid Eyes thou ſtar'ſt,
To ſee this Briton amidſt all thy Pow'rs
Serene, and with a Dauntleſs Brow appear!
Thou Fool! with all this Calm and Dreadleſs Brow,
[124] This is no God, but a meer Mortal Man,
As ſubject to Thy Arm as the vile Slave.
Muſter Thy Terrours then in dire Array!
And ſcare this hitherto undaunted Brave,
Then, then be ready with thy Fatal Dart,
Let me alone to give Thee certain aim
And ſo diſpatching one we conquer all.
But who, tho' Maſter of an Angel's Force,
An Angel's Genius, and an Angel's Voice,
Of Song Celeſtial, Eloquence Divine,
Can worthily deſcribe in dreadful Style
The fearful March of the Infernal Pow'rs
Who now prepare t'attack great Malb'rough's Life!
Grim Death his meager Skeleton expands
Into a Form Immenſe, then muſters all
His Terrours in aſtoniſhing Array,
[125] And charges them t'appear to Mortal Eyes.
His Terrours put on their moſt hideous Forms,
Forms which with Horrour Nature ſees and ſhakes,
And from its Out-works Trembling Life retreats,
And to the Heart its Cittadel retires.
In Phalanx then the Hero they aſſail,
The God-like Hero views them and reviews,
Conſiders them, diſdains them and repells:
But into Madneſs ſtarts the generous Steed
At the dire ſight, he flies, he bounds, he foams,
Flaſhes of Lightning from his Eye-Balls flie,
And from his Noſtrils curling Clouds of Smoak;
Then ſhrieking on his hindmoſt Feet he ſprings,
[126] Then groans, and floundring with his Rider falls.
The Gaul and the Bavarian rend the Sky,
Diſcord returns the Roar of vaſt Applauſe,
And Death and all th'Infernal Pow'rs rejoyce;
But thro' th'Allies a mortal Murmur runs,
And all their Spirit's with their Hero fall'n,
And Victory has Charms for them no more;
The Heavn'ly Spirits are themſelves concern'd,
And for a Moment wonder what this means,
And doubt leaſt they miſtook the Voice of Fate.
The Ruffians now whom Diſcord had ſuborn'd
Preſent a Hundred Fuſees at His Life,
At once an Hundred Fiery Globes diſcharge,
But a ſtrong unſeen Hand diverts them all.
Grim Death beſtrides Him with a Gyant ſtride,
[127] And ſcowls upon Him with a Wall-ey'd glare;
Then lifting brandiſhes His fatal Dart,
Yet wants the pow'r to ſtrike but looks askew,
And cannot bear the Heroes dauntleſs Eye,
When Diſcord cries aloud, O ſtrike my Son!
Is not our dreadful Adverſary fall'n,
Yes from the Pinnacle of Glory fall'n,
Fall'n in a Moment to the abjecteſt State?
O fooliſh Sentence! Judgment falſly paſt!
For hear the Angel in th'Aethereal Space.
O greateſt Thou, he cries, of Mortal Men,
Who art as Dauntleſs in the Arms of Death
As we whom Heav'n has plac'd above His reach!
Serene as when Thou o'recam'ſt at Bleinem's Field!
Then Conqueſt ſaw Thee Humble and Serene,
Death finds Thee firm and undejected now.
[128] O greateſt Thou, he cries, of Mortal Men,
Courage ſurpaſſing Human, God-like State,
Which nothing can depreſs and nothing raiſe!
Never was Mortal more ſeverly tryed,
But now 'tis paſt, and perfect art Thou found,
And worthy found to free the Lab'ring World.
For ſince within the very Arms of Death
Thou haſt the high Security enjoy'd
Of Bliſsful Beings who can die no more,
Thou ſhalt their high Felicity enjoy,
For thy unſhaken Mind can bear it all.
What Angels dictate, and what Angels do
(Whoſe Words and Acts are ſwifter than our Thoughts)
In Moments, Mortals cannot ſpeak in Hours.
Down He comes ſhooting on His Golden Wings,
[129] And on the Spot in all His Glory lights
Where in the Arms of Death His Malb'rough lay.
The Hero quicken'd by th'approach of Heav'n
Springs from th'embrace of Death, and on His Feet
As ſwift as are the Wings of Lightning Bounds.
The Heavenly Spirits in th'Aetherial Space,
And all the Empyrean Shouts for Joy,
When He who while He ſojourn'd here on Earth
Firſt His Command to God-like Malbro' gave,
Sent down from Heaven now gives it Him once more.
The Troops are wild with extaſie of Joy
To ſee their General from the Bonds of Death
To Conpueſt and Eternal Glory riſe;
Death from Immortal Splendour roaring flies
And yelling Diſcord flies from Love Divine.
[130] Now the Brave Squadrons to His Aid arrive,
And now another fiery Steed preſent,
And with their cries the eager Hero urge
To lead them on to everlaſting Fame,
The Hero mounts, the Squadrons rend the Skies,
Mounting with Him to Heav'n their Spirits ſoar.
The Hero mounts, but Diſcord while He mounts
And Death outragious to be thus repuls'd
Level a Canon at His Sacred Head,
But from His Sacred Head the pondrous Ball
Diverted, Bringfield who remounts Him kills,
And conſecrates Him to Eternal Fame
Who dies for ſuch a Chief in ſuch a Cauſe.
Thro' the Confederate Troops the Angel now
The Spirit of Celeſtial Union ſpreads,
And He who while he ſojourn'd here on Earth
Firſt bound the Nations in the Bonds of Love
[131] Is ſent from Heav'n that Union to confirm
And to augment in great Ramillia's Field.
Malb'rough remounted feels the Joys of Heav'n,
The Wiſdom and the Force of Gods He feels.
And now He leads the ſhouting Squadrons on
Daring as if they were Immortal all;
With Hearts and Souls unanimous they advance,
United as they were one Nation all,
One Family, Relations all, and Friends.
One Intereſt have They all, one Noble Cauſe,
With Fury inexpreſſible They advance,
And greatly each reſolves to Die for all.
The French who brave Reſiſtance made till now,
Now can Their fierce Attacks no longer bear.
They can no longer bear their very Eyes
And fatal Meens, but fainting all recoil,
And Death and Diſcord with their Hell-born Hoſt
[132] Headlong upon their Gallick Friends are diven,
The routed Gauls Divide, Disband, Diſperſe,
They flie, the Angel waves His Flaming Sword,
At which expected Signal on the Wing
Th'Amazing Terrours of th'Almighty ſtoop,
And perſecute and plague their broken Rear;
Make ſome precipitate their ſhameful Flight,
While others baſely beg for wretched Life,
And others Trembling Faint, and Sink, and Die
Thus Diſcord and the Gaul were forc'd to yield
To Malb'rough and to Union's Sacred Pow'r.
The END.

Appendix A ERRATA.

Page 24. line 1. for retire read retires p. 53. l. 9. for Head r. Hear [...]. p. 55. l. 3. for Calamities r. Calamitous p. 56. l. 5. after mock'd, a Comma. Ibid. for in vain r. is vain.

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TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 5191 The battle of Ramillia or the power of union A poem In five books By Mr Dennis. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-6060-B