51 Together to the watery camp they haste,

Whom matrons passing to their children show : Infants' first vows for them to heaven are cast, And future people bless them as they go.

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

53 Diffusive of themselves, where'er they pass,
They make that warmth in others they expect ;
Their valour works like bodies on a glass,
And does its image on their men project.

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

55 The Duke, less numerous, but in courage more,
On wings of all the winds to combat flies:
His murdering guns a loud defiance roar,
And bloody crosses on his flag-staffs rise.

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

57 Borne each by other in a distant line,

The sea-built forts in dreadful order move:

So vast the noise, as if not fleets did join,
But lands unfix'd, and floating nations strove.

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

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

60 And as the build, so different is the fight;

Their mounting shot is on our sails design'd:
Deep in their hulls our deadly bullets light,

And through the yielding planks a passage find.

61 Our dreaded admiral from far they threat,

Whose batter'd rigging their whole war receives: All bare, like some old oak which tempests beat,

He stands, and sees below his scatter'd leaves.

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

63 At this excess of courage, all amazed,

The foremost of his foes awhile withdraw:
With such respect in enter'd Rome they gazed,
Who on high chairs the god-like fathers saw.

64 And now, as where Patroclus' body lay,

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

65 Meantime his busy mariners he hastes,

His shatter'd sails with rigging to restore;
And willing pines ascend his broken masts,

Whose lofty heads rise higher than before.

66 Straight to the Dutch he turns his dreadful prow, More fierce the important quarrel to decide : Like swans, in long array his vessels show,

Whose crests advancing do the waves divide.

67 They charge, recharge, and all along the sea They drive, and squander the huge Belgian fleet; Berkeley 1 alone, who nearest danger lay,

Did a like fate with lost Creusa meet.

68 The night comes on, we eager to pursue

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

69 In the English fleet each ship resounds with joy, And loud applause of their great leader's fame: In fiery dreams the Dutch they still destroy,

And, slumbering, smile at the imagined flame.

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

71 In dreams they fearful precipices tread:

Or, shipwreck'd, labour to some distant shore: Or in dark churches walk among the dead;

They wake with horror, and dare sleep no more.

1 Berkeley:' Vice-admiral Berkeley fought till his men were all killed, and was found in the cabin dead and covered with blood.

72 The morn they look on with unwilling eyes,

Till from their main-top joyful news they hear Of ships, which by their mould bring new supplies, And in their colours Belgian lions bear.

73 Our watchful general had discern'd from far This mighty succour, which made glad the foe: He sigh'd, but, like a father of the war,

His face spake hope, while deep his sorrows flow.

74 His wounded men he first sends off to shore,
Never till now unwilling to obey :

They, not their wounds, but want of strength deplore,
And think them happy who with him can stay.

75 Then to the rest, Rejoice, said he, to-day; In you the fortune of Great Britain lies: Among so brave a people, you are they

Whom Heaven has chose to fight for such a prize.

76 If number English courages could quell,

We should at first have shunn'd, not met, our foes, Whose numerous sails the fearful only tell:

Courage from hearts and not from numbers grows.

77 He said, nor needed more to say: with haste To their known stations cheerfully they go; And all at once, disdaining to be last,

Solicit every gale to meet the foe.

78 Nor did the encouraged Belgians long delay,
But bold in others, not themselves, they stood:
So thick, our navy scarce could steer their way,
But seem'd to wander in a moving wood.

79 Our little fleet was now engaged so far,

That, like the sword-fish in the whale, they fought: The combat only seem'd a civil war,

Till through their bowels we our passage wrought.

80 Never had valour, no not ours, before

Done aught like this upon the land or main,
Where not to be o'ercome was to do more

Than all the conquests former kings did gain.

81 The mighty ghosts of our great Harries rose,
And armed Edwards look'd with anxious eyes,
To see this fleet among unequal foes,

By which fate promised them their Charles should rise.

82 Meantime the Belgians tack upon our rear,

And raking chase-guns through our sterns they send :
Close by their fire ships, like jackals appear
Who on their lions for the prey attend.

83 Silent in smoke of cannon they come on:
Such vapours once did fiery Cacus' hide :
In these the height of pleased revenge is shown,
Who burn contented by another's side.

84 Sometimes from fighting squadrons of each fleet, Deceived themselves, or to preserve some friend, Two grappling Etnas on the ocean meet,

And English fires with Belgian flames contend.

85 Now at each tack our little fleet grows less;
And like maim'd fowl, swim lagging on the main :
Their greater loss their numbers scarce confess,
While they lose cheaper than the English gain.

Cacus' see Virgil in Cowper's translation, 2d vol. of this edition.