But foon as the victorious hoft he fpies,

From hill to hill, from stream to ftream he flies :
Such dire impreffions in his heart remain

Of Marlborough's fword, and Hochftet's fatal plain :
In vain Britannia's mighty chief besets
Their fhady coverts, and obfcure retreats;
They fly the conqueror's approaching fame,
That bears the force of armies in his name.
Auftria's young monarch, whofe imperial fway
Sceptres and thrones are destin'd to obey,
Whose boasted ancestry so high extends
That in the pagan gods his lineage ends,
Comes from afar, in gratitude to own
The great fupporter of his father's throne:
What tides of glory to his bofom ran,
Clafp'd in th' embraces of the godlike man!
How were his eyes with pleafing wonder fixt
To fee fuch fire with so much sweetness mixt,
Such eafy greatnefs, fuch a graceful port,
So turn'd and finish'd for the camp or court!

Achilles thus was form'd with every grace,
And Nireus fhone but in the second place;
Thus the great father of almighty Rome
(Divinely flusht with an immortal bloom,
That Cytherea's fragrant breath beftow'd)
In all the charms of his bright mother glow'd.
The royal youth by Marlborough's prefence charm'd,
Taught by his counfels, by his actions warm'd,
On Landau with redoubled fury falls,

Discharges all his thunder on its walls,

O'er mines and caves of death provokes the fight, And learns to conquer in the hero's fight.

The British chief, for mighty toils renown'd,
Increas'd in titles, and with conquefts crown'd,
To Belgian coafts his tedious march renews,
And the long windings of the Rhine pursues,
Clearing its borders from ufurping foes,
And bleft by rescued nations as he goes.
Treves fears no more, freed from its dire alarms;
And Traerbach feels the terror of his arms:
Seated on rocks her proud foundations shake,
While Marlborough preffes to the bold attack.
Plants all his batteries, bids his cannon roar,
And shows how Landau might have fall'n before.
Scar'd at his near approach, great Louis fears
Vengeance referv'd for his declining years,
Forgets his thirft of universal sway,

And scarce can teach his fubjects to obey;
His arms he finds on vain attempts employ'd,
Th' ambitious projects for his race destroy'd,
The works of ages funk in one campaign,
And lives of millions facrific'd in vain.

Such are th' effects of Anna's royal cares:
By her, Britannia, great in foreign wars,
Ranges through nations, wherefoe'er disjoin'd,
Without the wonted aid of fea and wind.
By her th' unfetter'd Ifter's ftates are free,
And tafte the sweets of English liberty:
But who can tell the joys of those that lie
Beneath the conftant influence of her eye!

Whilft in diffufive fhowers her bounties fall
Like heaven's indulgence, and descend on all,
Secure the happy, fuccour the diftreft,

Make every fubject glad, and a whole people bleft.
Thus would I fain Britannia's wars rehearse,
In the smooth records of a faithful verfe;
That, if fuch numbers can o'er time prevail,
May tell pofterity the wondrous tale.
When actions, unadorn'd, are faint and weak,
Cities and countries must be taught to speak;
Gods may defcend in factions from the skies,
And rivers from their oozy beds arise;
Fiction may deck the truth with spurious rays,
And round the hero cast a borrow'd blaze.
Marlborough's exploits appear divinely bright,
And proudly shine in their own native light;
Rais'd of themselves, their genuine charms they boast,
And those who paint them truest praise them most.

F 2

COWLEY'S EPITAPH ON HIMSELF.

TRANSLATED BY MR. ADDISON.

FROM

ROM life's fuperfluous cares enlarg'd,
His debt of human toil discharg❜d,
Here Cowley lies! beneath this fhed,
To every worldly intereft dead;
With decent poverty content,
His hours of ease not idly spent ;
To fortune's goods a foe profeft,
And hating wealth by all careft.

'Tis true he's dead; for oh! how small

A fpot of earth is now his all:

Oh! wish that earth may lightly lay,

And every care be far away;

Bring flowers; the fhort-liv'd rofes bring,
To life deceas'd, fit offering:

And fweets around the poet

ftrow,

Whilft yet with life his ashes glow.

POEM AT A.

INAUGURATIO REGIS GULIELMI*,

1689.

Tityrus. Hic inter corylos, umbrofa cacumina, densas, Nos cantare pares quoniam convenimus

ambo,

Dicamus laudes heróum (ut, Mopfe, folemus)
Temporà tranfibunt fic læta canentibus, & nunc

Dic

age, quos noftro celebrari carmine fumes.

Mopfus. Tityre, nunc reddantur eis pia munera laudum,

Otia qui dederint nobis placidamque quietem ;
Scilicet illorum refonent encomia fylvæ,
Qui dignabantur regni fulcire ruinas.

T. Tanta haud conveniunt humili tenuique cicuta;
Sed quoniam in magnis, dicunt, voluiffe fat effe;
Ipfe tuas, Gulielme, canam laudefque Mariæ ;
Nam, quos junxit amor, nemo fejungere debet.
M. Tunc mihi Phoebe fave, Mufæque favete canenti,
Ne culpa ingenii illorum minuantur honores.

* These verfes occafioned Mr. Addifon's being elected into Magdalen College.