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The Invaſion: A POEM TO THE QUEEN.

By Mr. HILL.

Nil actum eſt, inquit, niſi, Gallo milite, Portas
Frangimus, & Regno vexillum pono Britanno,
Quantulus at rediit?
Juv. Sat. 10.

LONDON: Printed for THO. BICKERTON at the Golden Flower-de-Luce in St. Paul's Church-Yard. 1708.

The Invaſion: A POEM.

[][3]
PRIDE of the World, permit an humble Muſe
To ſnatch the Theme her Duty bids her chooſe,
That ſo the boundleſs Zeal which now inſpires,
And warms my glowing Breaſt with Loyal Fires,
May teach my tow'ring Fancy to reherſe
Your Godlike Actions in a lofty Verſe:
So ſhall Your ſpreading Laurels never die,
Nor Your bright Deeds in dark Oblivion lie,
But Ages yet unborn ſhall learn to bleſs
The Author of thoſe Joys their Children muſt poſſeſs.
Oh! cou'd You ſee with how ſincere a Flame
My Soul expands in Raptures at Your Name!
How pure my Praiſe! how innocent my Song!
My Pray'rs how ardent! and my Zeal how ſtrong!
You wou'd not, cou'd not think Your Virtuous Rays
Produc'd ſo baſe a Plant as mercenary Praiſe.
No hopes of Gain can ſtain my honest Pen,
Nor can I ſtoop to write like flatt'ring Men;
For tho', Obſcure, 'mongſt vulgar Crowds I lie,
Skreen'd from the SUN of Your enliv'ning Eye,
I bear a Loyal Soul, and dare to do
Beyond the Pow'r of Man, to ſerve a QUEEN like YOU.
[4]
But 'tis a needleſs Art I practiſe now,
Too low to HEAV'N and YOU we cannot bow;
For Majeſty like Yours, and Pow'r Divine,
Whoſe dazling Rays with ſpotleſs Luſtre ſhine,
By innate Force draw Praiſe from ev'ry Land,
Nor can we give You more than You command;
Envy herſelf can ſpy no doubtful Act,
Nor Malice from your witneſs'd Worth detract;
Faction, diſarm'd, ſubmits to what You do,
Nor can the brighteſt Praiſe reach Pow'r to flatter YOU.
Long had BRITANNIA mourn'd a cloudy Fate,
Depreſs'd with Fears for her divided State;
Long had each willing Siſter wiſh'd in vain,
For Dreams alternate of the Crown and Chain
Invite 'em oft, oft bear 'em wide again:
Till Heav'n, indulgent to the doubtful Iſle,
Look'd down with Pity, and vouchſaf'd a Smile;
What common Kings had found too hard to do,
Some Pow'r Coeleſtial muſt attempt anew;
Thence Jove ſhot down from Heav'n his brighteſt Ray,
To animate the pureſt part of Clay,
From which Great UNION Godlike ANNA came,
ANNA, the darling Favourite of Fame!
By Her the wond'rous Task was bravely done,
And the Coy Nymphs to kind Embraces won;
At Her Deſire Heav'ns mighty Mandates fly,
And firm a Gordian Knot that Hell can ne'r unty.
In a rough part of Gallia's Warlike Land,
A craggy Ridge of Rocky Mountains ſtand,
Whoſe ſteep Aſcents, and vaſt unmeaſur'd Height
With pleaſing Wonder ſtrike the diſtant ſight;
Their ſolid ſides vaſt Tracts of Land ſurround,
And skreen bright Proſpects of Enchanted Ground.
Here, on a gaudy Throne of glitt'ring State,
As Fortune changeable, but fix'd as Fate,
With Eagles Wings, and Virgins lovely Face,
Of Form inviting, and unequall'd Grace,
The Fiend Ambition ſits, and ſhines around the place;
[5]Imperial Crowns of Gold adorn her Head,
From whence, in wanton Curls, her Treſſes ſpread;
Her Hands are elevated as her Look,
One holds a Bloody Sword, and one a Golden Book.
On her Right-hand appears her Siſter Pride,
And crawling Envy guards the other ſide;
Of either Sex un-numbred Swarms appear,
And throng in Crowds to pay their Homage here;
On all alike the crafty Fury ſmiles,
With equal Art their various Thoughts beguiles,
Firſt draws them on to Fate, then glories in their Spoils.
For round large Hills, o'erſpread with ſhining Light,
With Gold refulgent, and with Diamonds bright,
Ten thouſand Deaths in ſtrange Diſguiſes ſtand,
And cruſh the raſh Invaders of that LAND.
Hither the News of ANNA's Honours came,
The pond'rous Meſſage burſt the Trump of Fame,
And ev'ry Fiend grew pale, and trembl'd at Her Name.
An awful Silence ſwiftly follow'd this,
And Envy's Snakes, with fright, forgot to hiſs,
Till from her Throne the ſhock'd Ambition ſtarts,
And in theſe Words her fix'd Reſolves imparts:
Ha! ſhall I loſe, at last, my boaſted Pow'r?
Long have the Books of Fate foretold this Hour;
Either my Empire falls, or ANNA bleeds;
But I waſte time in Words, behold my Deeds,
She ſaid,—and on the Ground her Enſigns threw,
Extended wide her Wings, and upward flew,
And left her Train amaz'd and wondring at the View.
Near the fam'd Borders of the River Seine,
Whoſe gentle Streams in large Maeanders twine,
Whoſe ſwelling Floods by fertil Show'rs advance,
And kindly waſh the faireſt Plains of France,
Verſailles, a ſmall, but ſtately City, lies,
And rears her lofty Turrets to the Skies;
Proudly ſhe boaſts the Source whence Honours ſpring,
From the fix'd Reſidence of Gallia's King;
For there that Mighty Monarch's Palace ſtands,
Guarded by brawny Slaves in choſen Bands.
[6]
Here, on a Bed of State, the Tyrant lies,
Pregnant with Hopes to make the World his Prize;
Here different Paſſions round his Boſom roll,
And various Tortures rack his anxious Soul;
Here conſcious Guilt invades his wiſh'd Repoſe,
And magnifies the Number of his Foes;
Now he has mounted the Triumphant Car,
Now ſinks beneath the Weight of adverſe War;
Here Hopes and Fears alternate Changes bring,
And here AMBITION finds her Fav'rite King.
An unexpected Sleep had clos'd his Eyes,
And ſeiz'd his Senſes with a ſoft Surprize,
When to the place the angry Fury came,
Her Breaſt all boiling, and her Eyes ſhot Flame.
Son, ſays the Fiend, bright Darling of my Care,
Pride of my Hopes, and Subject of my Pray'r,
Rouze from the Damps in which your Senſes ſteep,
'Tis not, oh! 'tis not Now a time to ſleep.
Have I, for this, your lost Advantage ſought?
For this your Pow'r with Blood of Nations bought?
Have I for this your daring Breaſt inſpir'd,
And with hot Flames of War your Boſom fir'd?
Have your great Stratagems bound Europe faſt?
And muſt a Woman break the Chain at laſt?
Ah Prince! betimes exert a vig'rous Care,
Betimes for Death or Victory prepare;
For oh! I fear, nay, more than fear, I know,
From' ANNA's Arm you muſt expect a Blow,
And who oppoſes Her has Heav'n to be his Foe.
In vain abroad your dreadful Cannons roar,
In vain your Fleets at home defend your Shoar;
In vain your Armies Foreign Vict'ries gain,
In vain Almanza gave you conquer'd Spain;
And, oh! in vain your baffl'd Soldiers fight,
While the two Barriers of your Pow'r Unite:
BRITAIN, Great Prince, by Heav'n and ANNA led,
Has join'd Two Bodies to One Sovereign Head;
And if divided She cou'd ſhake your Throne,
She may o'erturn it Now, ſince into UNION grown.
[7]Rouze then, and ſwiftly form ſome vaſt Deſign,
Impending Dangers ſhou'd Diſpatch incline;
Speed gives Succeſs, by Time 'tis loſt or won,
'Tis not 'twas bravely Thought, but bravely Done.
I know your Courage great, I know you Wiſe,
And therefore but remind you, not adviſe.
You have a Britiſh Prince attends your Court,
At leaſt a Prince by His and Our Report;
Conteſted Titles we diſpute in vain,
Kings ſhould not mind the Juſtice, but the Gain.
Strike now; a Wound juſt clos'd you'll ſoon renew;
But, if neglected long, you'll find it hard to do.
She ſaid,—and vaniſh'd ſwiftly from his ſight,
Loſt in the ſable Clouds of dusky Night.
The frighted King in furious haſte aroſe,
Forgot the ſofter thoughts of his Repoſe;
The Fury's Sting had touch'd his Vital Flood,
And raging Fevers heats enflam'd his Blood.
Revolving Thoughts conſum'd the tedious Night,
And Eaſtern Skies diſplay'd the Morning Light,
When the fierce King a haſty Summons ſends,
And each commanded Officer attends;
The wond'ring Council in Confuſion met,
By the King's ſide the young Pretender ſate;
Fires in his Soul a flaming Wrath provoke,
While thus, with ſparkling Eyes, the Gallick Tyrant ſpoke:
Lords of this Land, where I ſo long have reign'd,
Whoſe Loyalty your Courage has maintain'd,
I call'd you hither now, to let you know
I aim my Arrows at a Britiſh Foe;
Their ſudden UNION has my Hopes betray'd,
We muſt diſſolve the Tye that Knot has made,
Not meanly guard our own, but Hoſtile Shoars invade.
And You, young Prince, whoſe too unhappy Fate
Has caſt you roughly from your Father's State,
Shall have my Help to lift you to a Throne
That juſtly is, or ought to be, your own:
It then remains, You ſhou'd the Dangers weigh
That may a while defer the happy Day;
[8]Which if You dare but meet, the Task be Mine
To guide you ſafely through the vaſt Deſign;
The Gallick Fleet ſhall ſhake the Britiſh Shoar
With Force they never felt nor fear'd before;
My beſt Commanders ſhall attend your Fate,
And choſen Troops ſupport your Kingly State.
This is my Will, your Anſwer I expect,
I have propos'd the Task, and will the Deed effect.
A riſing Murmur from the buzzing Croud
Proclaim'd their Wonder and their Pleaſure loud,
While the Pretender ſpoke, and as he ſpoke he bow'd.
Illuſtrious Prince, from whom my Fortune ſprings,
Great Dread of Nations, and great Chief of Kings,
Words want the Pow'r to ſpeak my riſing Joy,
Nor can my Tongue vain Eloquence employ;
Give me my Crown, and its Command ſhall ſhew
How much to Your great Soul I and my Subjects owe.
Green in the Field, unus'd to Wars Alarms,
Soldier in bloom, and yet unskill'd in Arms,
I'll bravely lead your conqu'ring Squadrons on,
And wade through Seas of Blood to reach my Throne;
Nor fear I Dangers, nor can doubt Succeſs,
Hell cannot curſe the Man whom You vouchſafe to bleſs.
He ſpoke,—The ſmiling King the Speech commends,
And ſudden Orders o'er his Kingdom ſends,
Surpris'd, the Council roſe, and the great Congreſs ends.
Now from all parts the Din of War grows high,
And Trumpets ſound their Summons to the Sky;
Tonitruous Drums in rougher Notes proclaim
The Soldiers Bus'neſs, and their Leaders Aim:
Arms long neglected, now begin to ſhine,
And neighing Horſes ſnort a Great Deſign;
The Warlike Enſigns that the Chiefs prepare,
In pendant Curlings fan the wanton Air;
Love's ſofter Arts no more amuſe the Swains,
And Nymphs are left abandon'd in the Plains;
To War's great Call Troops of bold Youths advance,
The Pride of Valour, and the Bloom of France;
[9]With ſprightly Joy they hear the loud Alarms,
Forget their ſofter Dreſs, and ſhine in glitt'ring Arms:
To Dunkirk's Port with haſty Zeal they fly,
Where ready Ships of War in graceful Order lie.
And now the fatal Morn' began to peep,
When the ſtrong Fleet muſt plough the Stormy Deep;
In the gay Town the choſen Army lay,
And with loud Shouts ſalute the welcome Day.
The tuneful Trumpets echo from afar,
With all the noiſie Inſtruments of War;
The ſummon'd Chiefs to their fix'd places flew,
And into Order all their Forces drew;
The tops of Houſes Crouds of Gazers heap,
And from the Windows Wives and Mothers weep;
With wringing hands a laſt Farewell they take,
And wiſh the War Succeſs, each for her Husband's ſake.
In the broad Front, with an unequall'd Pride,
They ſaw the raſh Pretender boldly ride,
Grac'd by the Warlike Chiefs who rode on either ſide.
Twice Fifty gallant Troops march ſlowly on,
Whoſe Swords in frequent Wars had Vict'ries won;
With graceful Pride their tall Commanders tread,
And feather'd Plumes adorn each elevated Head;
Their ſloping Spears ſhine thro' the City-gate,
And others bear for Arms the fiery Tubes of Fate.
Thus march the haughty Train in pompous State,
To gain the Strand, where ready Veſſels wait;
A tempting Gale invites 'em ſoon aboard,
And from the Port their haſty Ships unmoor'd;
Saluting Cannons from the Bulwarks roar,
And the Fleets Thunder ſhakes the Friendly Shoar.
And now the formidable Ships of France
From their ſtrong Port to the wide Seas advance;
Their tallow'd Keels divide the rolling Waves,
And their ſmooth ſides the riſing Ocean laves;
The skilful Mariners unfurl their Sails,
Whoſe flutt'ring Canvaſs courts the ſwelling Gales;
The manag'd Rudders break the Billows pow'r,
And make 'em guide what they wou'd elſe devour:
[10]To dreadful breadth the bulky Squadrons ſpread,
Afrighted Neptune hides his hoary Head,
And the Sea-Monſters fly, ſtruck with a pannnick Dread.
To Caledonian Land their Courſe they bend,
And on her Coaſt their threatning Pow'rs deſcend:
The craggy Rocks, that guard the Northern Shoar,
Trembl'd and ſhook at their loud Thunders roar,
And loos'n'd from their Roots, that never mov'd before.
But hold, my Muſe;—Forget thy Foes a while,
And turn a pleaſing look to BRITAIN's Iſle,
On whoſe bleſs'd Fortunes Heav'n and ANNA ſmile.
Soon had the watchful Eyes of PROVIDENCE,
That ever wake and move for Her Defence,
Perceiv'd the black Deſign, their Forces ſeen,
And told their Numbers to the happy QUEEN:
The Loyal Senate flame with gen'rous Fire,
And their Examples ev'ry Breaſt inſpire;
At the firſt Summons Crouds unnumber'd meet,
And throw their Lives and Fortunes at Her Feet.
Two Britiſh Fleets then plough'd the diſtant Main,
One bore her Natives to the Coaſt of Spain,
Others in Midland Seas Vict'ries on Vict'ries gain.
Mean while Domeſtick Shoars unguarded lie,
No equal Force to meet the Foe was nigh;
But ANNA needs not that, for Heav'n is Her ALLIE.
Yet at Her Call tall Ships in Numbers meet,
And form, with wond'rous haſte, a Mighty Fleet;
O'er the rough Seas commanded Squadrons fly,
In their ſwift way no dang'rous Barriers lie,
From Her they claim their Force, their Fortune from the Sky.
Now the brave Britons, whom the Seas obey,
O'er moving Mountains force their watry Way,
Their crowded Sails leave loit'ring Birds behind,
And their ſtretch'd Breadth monopolize the Wind.
Eager to fight, their Ships for War prepare,
Fly thro' the Seas, and ſail upon the Air;
Each lab'ring Hull the wond'ring Waves divides,
And ſhakes the frighted Billows from her ſides;
Their bending Maſts yield to the pow'rful Gales,
And groaning Beams below proclaim the pond'rous Sails.
[11]
When from their Watch the Fleets each other ſpy,
With equal Joy contiguous Sails they ply,
And look like two black Clouds gath'ring from either Sky.
Each to juſt length contract their ſpreading Line,
And glitt'ring Weapons from their Rigging ſhine;
Death, here invited, leaves the peaceful Shoar,
And lies conceal'd in ev'ry Cannon's Bore,
Tempting their fiery Rage, and courting them to roar.
Britannia's Sons with chearful Shouts come nigh,
And their loud Triumphs pierce the vaulted Sky;
On the high Decks the graceful Chiefs appear,
Invite the Battle, and diſdain to fear;
Their ſprightly Trumpets loud Defiance ſound,
And wond'ring Fiſhes dance in Shoals around;
With gentle force the Southern Breezes blow,
And bear their dreadful Thunder on the Foe.
But when the bold Pretender ſaw their Pow'r,
And felt their Anger in a Sulph'rous Show'r,
His gifted Sword forſook his trembling Hand,
And his roll'd Eyes ſurvey'd the diſtant Land,
His fault'ring Tongue forgot a while to ſpeak,
And knocking Knees with ſudden ſhocks grow weak;
Strangely ſurpriz'd his anxious Thoughts appear,
And drowns his Senſes in the Gulph of Fear.
Thus, when the Noble Lion ſleeping lies,
Nor dreads the Danger of a baſe Surprize,
Some envious Fox, who fears an open Strife,
With treach'rous Guile attempts his Royal Life;
But when He's ſeiz'd, and in vindictive Claws,
Quakes with a guilty Fear, beneath the graſping Paws.
Now the raſh Gallick Chiefs amaz'd look'd round,
No Hopes of Safety but by Flight they found,
With heedleſs haſte they clap their Helms a-lee,
And raiſe a ſhort-liv'd Storm, by breaking up the Sea;
No more the Ships in their firſt Order join,
Confuſion now divides the ſcatter'd Line,
O'er the wide Ocean ſpread, they loſe their State,
And fly diſorder'd from purſuing Fate;
[12]They crowd more Sail than Rigging can ſupply,
Graſp all the Winds that whizz along the Sky,
And court the Tempeſts they were us'd to fly:
O'erloaden Veſſels crack beneath their weight,
And ev'ry Plank gapes wide, and opens Death a Gate:
Cloſe to the Waves they lay their proſtrate ſides,
The chalky Keel high o'er the Surges rides,
And their ſwift Prows raiſe Foam upon the murm'ring Tides.
The wond'ring Britons view their ſudden Flight,
And bleſs with ſhouts the unexpected ſight;
With equal haſte, by diff'rent Cauſes led,
To equal breadth their Conqu'ring Squadrons ſpread;
Well-manag'd Sails their ſtately Line extend,
And their ſtiff Maſts to the ſtrong Canvaſs bend;
Swiftly they ſcud along the wat'ry Plain,
And by degrees a ſhort Advantage gain,
Then tempt their Rivals to diſpute the Day,
And with loud Cannons ſummon them to ſtay:
From their tall ſides a gen'rous Thunder roars,
Echoing Defiance to the diſtant Shoars,
While from the Gallick Sterns baſe Bullets fly,
And Clouds of ſhameful Smoak invade the bluſhing Sky.
In vain th'intrepid Britains tempt the Fight,
In vain they ſtrive to ſtop their eager Flight,
In vain to animate their Foes they try,
Beckon the Dangers Nature bids 'em fly,
And court the bloody Blows which Heav'n and France deny.
Long had their Ships, divided, urg'd their way,
And grac'd the Seas that did their Pow'r obey,
When a brave Few, more happy than the reſt,
With greater Speed, but equal Courage bleſs'd,
O'ertake the hindmoſt of the Hoſtile Fleet,
And with unwelcome Shouts their pow'rful Rivals greet.
From each ſide now ſucceſſive Thunder flies,
On the rough Waves contending Veſſels riſe,
Alternate Show'rs of Death blue Sulphur rain,
Oceans of Blood the wat'ry Surface ſtain,
And ſpread their purple Horror o'er the Main.
[13] Britannia's Sons with brave Reſentment flame,
Gallia muſt now ſupport her ſinking Fame,
One ſide for Honour fights, and one for Shame.
Hot Wombs of Braſs new Births of Fire prepare,
Thunder on Thunder ſhakes the ſmoaky Air,
Sulphureous Clouds in curling Volumes riſe,
And Nitrous Gloom obſcures the ambient Skies,
Till dreadful Lightning flaſhing thro' the Night,
Diſcloſes horrid Scenes with momentary Light.
Promiſcuouſly the Ships in Battle join,
Obſerve no Order, keep no formal Line,
But ſtrive by diff'rent Arts, to compaſs one Deſign;
With deadly Force Here adverſe Bullets meet,
And with rough Shocks, and breaking Fury greet,
Here riſing Waves the meeting Veſſels daſh,
And join their bulky Sides with hideous Craſh;
Now grapling Sailors Hand to Hand contend,
Some deſp'rately aſſail what ſome defend;
Here Sword from Sword with fearful Noiſe rebounds,
Here weighty Fauchions fix their dreadful Wounds,
Here by deſtructive Muſquets Crowds expire,
And adverſe Parties fight in Storms of Fire;
Three Elements in ſtrange Diſorder join,
In vain the ſtrugling Flames attempt to ſhine,
Thro' riſing Surges red-hot Bullets fly,
And daſh the hiſſing Waters to the Sky;
With unreſiſted Force they onward roar,
Disjoin the Ships that cloſely fought before,
And ſhake the troubled Seas, and drive 'em to the Shoar.
Now was the Time BRITANNIA ſhou'd advance
Her deathleſs Glories on the Fall of France,
Sing, Loyal Muſe, by what ſtrange turn of Fate
The faithleſs Foe preſerv'd his ſinking State;
Say by what means Jove's Favour was obtain'd,
And how, by him ſecur'd, they Dunkirk's Port regain'd.
Shock'd at the growing Thunder of the Fight,
And eager to behold the bloody Sight,
Imperial Jove deſcends, enthron'd on Clouds,
And Heav'n's bright Hoſt attends in ſhining Crouds;
[14]At his Command the ſtrengthen'd Air ſupports
The num'rous Rulers of Celeſtial Courts,
Who, ſtretch'd at wanton Eaſe, obſervant lye,
And frame a glorious Heav'n below the Sky.
Not far from hence, amidſt th'unfathom'd Sea,
There ſtands a Rock, ſtrong in a vaſt degree,
Its tow'ring ſides the rougheſt Storms out-brave,
And mock the Fury of the fierceſt Wave,
High on its craggy Top old Neptune ſtood,
Lord of the Regions of the briny Flood;
Around his Head a whiſtling Tempeſt blew,
And his long Hair high from his Temples flew,
His rais'd Right Hand his powerful Trident ſhook,
And the loud Ocean trembled at his Look.
Soon as he ſaw the thund'ring God deſcend,
And fear'd the Conſequence that might attend,
He rais'd his dreadful Voice, and thus began,
While the huſh'd Seas in awful ſilence ran.
Brother, whoſe happier Fate has plac'd you high,
And fix'd you Ruler of the ſtarry Sky,
Welcome, oh welcome, for you come in time,
To ſee me puniſh an unequal'd Crime:
ANNA the Great, the Juſt, of matchleſs Worth,
Whom Fate decrees the Empreſs of the Earth,
Urg'd by the pious Flames of mutual Love,
And ſuch as almoſt equals yours above,
Gives the Command of the ſubjected Main
To her bleſt Conſort GEORGE the Royal DANE;
Long has that happy PRINCE ſucceſsful been,
And Rul'd the Navies of his Darling QUEEN,
Till o'er the wond'ring World He ſpread Her Fame,
And diſtant Nations trembled at her Name;
My ſelf with Pleaſure all my Pow'r reſign'd,
Gave Him a full Command o'er Seas and Wind,
For I ſubmitted ſtill to all that She deſign'd.
Yet Now, O daring Inſolence! this Foe,
Whoſe wide Ambition injur'd Nations know,
At her lov'd Breaſt has aim'd a treach'rous Blow;
But ſee the conqu'ring Britiſh Fleet advance,
Whoſe dreadful Cannons bear the Fate of France.
[15]
He ſaid,—and as he wou'd have ſpoken more,
Jove caſt his Eyes upon the Gallick Shoar,
Henceforth, he cry'd, Raſh Prince, more humble grow,
Nor tempt the Anger of your Britiſh Foe:
Fate now protects you, if again you dare
Invade that Land, a bloody Fall beware.
This ſaid,—a dusky Cloud he downwards threw,
And Scenes of Darkneſs 'twixt the Navies drew,
Then ſmil'd in Neptune's Face, and upwards flew.
The furious God with Wonder view'd the Deed,
And curs'd the Safety Jove to France decreed;
He bent his ſtormy Brow againſt the Skies,
Amazing Fires flaſh'd ſwiftly from his Eyes,
And mad with raging Paſſion, loudly cryes,
Hah! dares he thus invade a Brother's Right?
Tho' I can ne'er repel his New-fram'd Night,
I'll curſe with equal Plagues their ſhameful Flight.
He ſaid,—and made his willing Tritons meet,
To guard from gath'ring Storms the Britiſh Fleet,
Then with his Trident ſtruck the hollow Rock,
That three times trembled with the mighty ſhock,
Thence iſſued Boreas with impetuous roar,
And ſhook the boyſt'rous Seas from Shoar to Shoar,
Succeſſive Waves in wat'ry Hills riſe ſteep,
Diſcloſing all the Horrors of the Deep,
Commiſſion'd Billows o'er each other roul,
And frightful Proſpects ſhock the braveſt Soul.
The Gallick Fleet the Tempeſt ſoon o'ertakes,
And on their Ships with dreadful Horror breaks;
Now with ſtrange Force the ſwelling Surges riſe,
And lift the mounting Veſſels to the Skies,
Then from their Keels the faithleſs Waters fall,
And to the muddy Bottom drop 'em all.
The trembling Sailors ply their Ropes in vain,
And gaping Planks admit the roaring Main,
[16]Their ſhatter'd Sails in num'rous pieces fly,
And Tempeſts blow their Streamers to the Sky,
Disjointed Rudders float upon the Waves,
And groaning Numbers ſink in wat'ry Graves,
Diſabled Veſſels meet with ſudden Shocks,
And ſome are daſh'd with force upon the Rocks,
Some ſhrieking Mariners midſt Waves Expire,
Some dye by ſtrange Diſeaſes, ſome by Fire,
Death in all Shapes, and horrid Pomp appears,
And growing Dangers ſwell beyond their Fears,
Plague, Wind and Sea 'gainſt perjur'd France combine,
And in her Ruin firm Confed'rates join,
Till long-deſerv'd Fatigues and Hazards o'er,
A ſcatter'd Remnant gain their native Shore.
Such Fate may ANNA's Foes for ever find,
May HEAV'N on Her ſtill ſmile, nor Hell diſturb Her Mind.
FINIS.
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Citation Suggestion for this Object
TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 3337 The invasion a poem to the Queen By Mr Hill. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-5F9D-A