191 Nor long the Belgians could that fleet sustain, Which did two generals' fates, and Cæsar's bear: Each several ship a victory did gain, As Rupert or as Albemarle were there. 192 Their batter'd admiral too soon withdrew, 193 Never did men more joyfully obey, Or sooner understood the sign to fly: With such alacrity they bore away, As if to praise them all the States stood by. 1 194 O famous leader of the Belgian fleet, Thy monument inscribed such praise shall wear, 195 Behold that navy, which a while before, Provoked the tardy English close to fight, 196 Whoe'er would English monuments survey, 197 Or if too busily they will inquire Into a victory which we disdain; Then let them know the Belgians did retire 'Leader: ' De Ruyter. 2Patron saint: St James, on whose day the victory was gained. 198 Repenting England this revengeful day To Philip's manes did an offering bring: 199 Our fathers bent their baneful industry, 200 In fortune's empire blindly thus we go, 201 But whate'er English to the bless'd shall go, And the fourth Harry or first Orange meet; Find him disowning of a Bourbon foe, And him detesting a Batavian fleet. 202 Now on their coasts our conquering navy rides, Waylays their merchants, and their land besets: Each day new wealth without their care provides; They lie asleep with prizes in their nets. 203 So, close behind some promontory lie The huge leviathans to attend their prey; Which through their gaping jaws mistake the way. 204 Nor was this all: in ports and roads remote, Destructive fires among whole fleets we send : Triumphant flames upon the water float, And out-bound ships at home their voyage end. 205 Those various squadrons variously design'd, Each vessel freighted with a several load, Each squadron waiting for a several wind, All find but one, to burn them in the road. 206 Some bound for Guinea, golden sand to find, 207 Some English wool, vex'd in a Belgian loom, Did into France, or colder Denmark, doom, 208 Our greedy seamen rummage every hold, Smile on the booty of each wealthier chest ; 209 But ah! how insincere are all our joys! Which, sent from heaven, like lightning make no stay; 210 Swell'd with our late successes on the foe, Which France and Holland wanted power to cross, We urge an unseen fate to lay us low, And feed their envious eyes with English loss. 211 Each element His dread command obeys, 212 Yet London, empress of the northern clime, 213 As when some dire usurper 1 Heaven provides, 214 Till fully ripe his swelling fate breaks out, 215 Such was the rise of this prodigious fire, Which, in mean buildings first obscurely bred, 216 The diligence of trades and noiseful gain, 217 In this deep quiet, from what source unknown, Those seeds of fire their fatal birth disclose; And first few scattering sparks about were blown, Big with the flames that to our ruin rose. 218 Then in some close-pent room it crept along, ''Usurper:' this seems a reference to Cromwell; if so, it contradicts Scott's statement quoted above in the 'Life.' 219 Now like some rich or mighty murderer, Too great for prison, which he breaks with gold; Who fresher for new mischiefs does appear, And dares the world to tax him with the old : 220 So 'scapes the insulting fire his narrow jail, 221 The winds, like crafty courtesans, withheld His flames from burning, but to blow them more: And every fresh attempt he is repell'd With faint denials weaker than before. 222 And now no longer letted1 of his prey, 223 The ghosts of traitors from the bridge descend, With bold fanatic spectres to rejoice: About the fire into a dance they bend, And sing their sabbath notes with feeble voice. 224 Our guardian angel saw them where they sate Above the palace of our slumbering king: He sigh'd, abandoning his charge to fate, And, drooping, oft look'd back upon the wing. 225 At length the crackling noise and dreadful blaze And long it was ere he the rest could raise, 'Letted:' hindered. |