The last fair instance thou must give, Thy virtue, whose resistless force Though Death and Envy stop the way. For Britain's sake, for Belgia's, live: And bring them ease, though thou hast none. Vanquish again; though she be gone, Whose garland crown'd the victor's hair; And reign, though she has left the throne, Who made thy glory worth thy care. Fair Britain never yet before Breath'd to her king a useless pray'r: Fond Belgia never did implore, While William turn'd averse his ear. But should the weeping hero now Relentless to their wishes prove; Should he recall, with pleasing woe, The object of his grief and love; Her face with thousand beauties blost, Her mind with thousand virtues stor❜d, 120 130 Her power with boundless joy confest, Her person only not ador❜d: Yet ought his sorrow to be check'd; She was instructed to command, But oh! 'twas little, that her life O'er earth and water bears thy fame: In death, 'twas worthy William's wife, Amidst the stars to fix his name. Beyond where matter moves, or place The beauty of her partner's soul. Wise Fate, which does its Heav'n decree Is deified before thy death. Alone to thy renown 'tis giv'n, Unbounded through all worlds to go: While she, great saint, rejoices Heav'n; And thou sustain'st the orb below. 140 150 160 IN IMITATION OF ANACREON. ET 'em censure: what care I? Let the wretches know, I write, Bid the warbling Nine retire: 10 AN ODE. HE merchant, to secure his treasure, My softest verse, my darling lyre, When Cloe noted her desire, That I should sing, that I should play. My lyre I tune, my voice I raise; Fair Cloe blush'd: Euphelia frown'd: I sung and gaz'd: I play'd and trembled: And Venus to the Loves around Remark'd, how ill we all dissembled. 10 ODE SUR LA PRISE DE NAMUR, PAR LES ARMES DU ROY, L'ANNEE MDCXCII. PAR MONSIEUR BOILEAU DESPREAUX. 10 I. UELLE docte & sainte yvresse II. Dans ses chansons immortelles, Si, dans l'ardeur qui m'inspire, N'ont rien oui, que n'efface |