The long laborious march he first surveys,
And joins the distant Danube to the Maese,
Between whose floods such pathless forests grow,
Such mountains rise, so many rivers flow:
The toil looks lovely in the hero's eyes,
And danger serves but to enhance the prize.
Big with the fate of Europe, he renews
His dreadful course, and the proud foe pursues :
Infected by the burning Scorpion's heat,
The sultry gales round his chaf'd temples beat,
Till on the borders of the Maine he finds
Defensive shadows, and refreshing winds.
Our British youth, with in-born freedom bold,
Unnumber'd scenes of servitude behold,
Nations of slaves, with tyranny debas'd,
(Their Maker's image more than half defac'd)
Hourly instructed, as they urge their toil,
To prize their queen, and love their native soil.
Still to the rising sun they take their way
Through clouds of dust, and gain upon the day.
When now the Neckar on his friendly coast-
With cooling streams revives the fainting host,
That cheerfully its labours past forgets,
The midnight watches, and the noon-day heats.
O'er prostrate towns and palaces they pass,
(Now cover'd o'er with woods, and hid in grass)
Breathing revenge; whilst anger and disdain
Fire ev'ry breast, and boil in ev'ry vein:
Here shatter'd walls, like broken rocks, from far
Rise up in hideous views, the guilt of war,
Whilst here the vine o'er hills of ruin climbs,
Industrious to conceal great Bourbon's crimes.
At length the fame of England's hero drew
Eugenio to the glorious interview.

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

A sudden friendship, while with stretch'd-out rays
They meet each other, mingling blaze with blaze.

Polish'd in courts, and harden'd in the field,
Renown'd for conquest, and in council skill'd,
Their courage dwells not in a troubled flood
Of mounting spirits, and fermenting blood;
Lodg'd in the soul, with virtue overrul❜d,
Inflam'd by reason, and by reason cool'd,
In hours of peace content to be unknown,
And only in the field of battle shown:

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

So the staunch hound the trembling deer pursues,
And smells his footsteps in the tainted dews,
The tedious track unrav'ling by degrees:
But when the scent comes warm in ev'ry breeze,
Fir'd at the near approach, he shoots away
On his full stretch, and bears upon his prey.

The march concludes, the various realms are past,
Th' immortal Schellenberg appears at last:
Like hills th' aspiring ramparts rise on high,
Like valleys at their feet the trenches lie;
Batt'ries on batt'ries guard each fatal pass,
Threat'ning destruction; rows of hollow brass,
Tube behind tube, the dreadful entrance keep,
Whilst in their wombs ten thousand thunders sleep:
Great Churchill owns, charm'd with the glorious sight,
His march o'erpaid by such a promis'd fight.
The western sun now shot a feeble ray,
And faintly scatter'd the remains of day,
Ev'ning approach'd; but, oh! what hosts of foes
Were never to behold that ev'ning close!
Thick'ning their ranks, and wedg'd in firm array,
The close-compacted Britons win their way

In vain the cannon their throng'd war defac'd With tracts of death, and laid the battle waste; Still pressing forward to the fight, they broke Through flames of sulphur, and a night of smoke, Till slaughter'd legions fill'd the trench below, And bore their fierce avengers to the foe.

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

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

How many gen'rous Britons meet their doom,
New to the field, and heroes in the bloom!
Th' illustrious youths, that left their native shore
To march where Britons never march'd before,
(O fatal love of fame! O glorious heat,
Only destructive to the brave and great!)
After such toils o'ercome, such dangers past,
Stretch'd on Bavarian ramparts, breathe their last.
But hold, my Muse, may no complaints appear,
Nor blot the day with an ungrateful tear:
While Marlbro' lives Britannia's stars dispense
A friendly light, and shine in innocence.
Plunging through seas of blood his fiery steed
Where'er his friends retire, or foes succeed:
Those he supports, these drives to sudden flight,
And turns the various fortune of the fight,

Forbear, great man, renown'd in arms, forbear To brave the thickest terrors of the war, Nor hazard thus, confus'd in crowds of foes, Britannia's safety, and the world's repose; Let nations anxious for thy life abate This scorn of danger, and contempt of fate : Thou liv'st not for thyself; thy queen demands Conquest and peace from thy victorious hands; Kingdoms and empires in thy fortune join, And Europe's destiny depends on thine.

At length the long-disputed pass they gain,
By crowded armies fortify'd in vain;

The war breaks in, the fierce Bavarians yield,
And see their camp with British legions fill'd.
So Belgian mounds bear on their shatter'd sides
The sea's whole weight increas'd with swelling tides;
But if the rushing wave a passage finds,

Enrag'd by watry moons and warring winds,
The trembling peasant sees his country round
Cover'd with tempests, and in oceans drown'd.
The few surviving foes dispers'd in flight,
(Refuse of swords, and gleanings of a fight).
In ev'ry rustling wind the victor hear,
And Marlbro' form in ev'ry shadow fear,
Till the dark cope of night with kind embrace
Befriends the rout, and covers their disgrace.
To Donawert, with unresisting force,

The

gay victorious army bends its course.
The growth of meadows, and the pride of fields,
Whatever spoils Bavaria's summer yields,
(The Danube's great increase) Britannia shares,
The food of armies, and support of wars:
With magazines of death, destructive balls,
And cannons doom'd to batter Landau's walls,
The victor finds each hidden cavern stor'd,
And turns their fury on their guilty lord.

Deluded prince! how is thy greatness crost,
And all the gaudy dream of empire lost,
That proudly set thee on a fancy'd throne,
And made imaginary realms thy own?
Thy troops, that now behind the Danube join,
Shall shortly seek for shelter from the Rhine,
Nor find it there: surrounded with alarms,
Thou hop'st th' assistance of the Gallic arms;
The Gallic arms in safety shall advance,

And crowd thy standards with the pow'r of France,
While to exalt thy doom, th' aspiring Gaul
Shares thy destruction, and adorns thy fall

Unbounded courage and compassion join'd,
Temp'ring each other in the victor's mind,
Alternately proclaim him good and great,
And make the hero and the man complete.
Long did he strive th' obdurate foe to gain
By proffer'd grace, but long he strove in vain;
Till, fir'd at length, he thinks it vain to spare
His rising wrath, and gives a loose to war.
In vengeance rous'd the soldier fills his hand
With sword and fire, and ravages the land,
A thousand villages to ashes turns,

In crackling flames a thousand harvests burns.
To the thick woods the woolly flocks retreat,
And mix'd with bellowing herds confus'dly bleat;
Their trembling lords the common shade partake,
And cries of infants sound in ev'ry brake;
The list'ning soldier, fix'd in sorrow, stands,
Loth to obey his leader's just commands
The leader grieves, by gen'rous pity sway'd,
To see his just commands so well obey'd.

;

But now the trumpet, terrible from far, In shriller clangors animates the war, Confed'rate drums in fuller concert beat, And echoing hills the loud alarm repeat: Gallia's proud standards, to Bavaria's join'd, Unfurl their gilded lilies in the wind; The daring prince his blasted hopes renews, And while the thick embattled host he views Stretch'd out in deep array, and dreadful length, His heart dilates, and glories in his strength. The fatal day its mighty course began, That the griev'd world had long desir'd in vain: States that their new captivity bemoan'd, Armies of martyrs that in exile groan'd, Sighs from the depth of gloomy dungeons heard, And pray'rs in bitterness of soul preferr'd, Europe's loud cries, that Providence assail'd, And Anna's ardent vows, at length prevail'd;