Dare then; Thou much belov'd by smiling Fate: For ANNA's Sake, and in Her Name, be Great:: Go forth, and be to diftant Nations known, My future Fav'rite, and My darling Son.
At SCHELLENBERG I'll manifeft fuftain Thy glorious Caufe; and fpread my Wings again, Confpicuous o'er Thy Helm, in BLENHEIM's Plain. The Goddess faid, nor would admit Reply; But cut the liquid Air, and gain'd the Sky. His high Commiffion is thro' BRITAIN known: And thronging Armies to His Standard run. He marches thoughtful; and He fpeedy fails: (Blefs Him, ye Seas! and profper Him, ye Gales!) BELGIA receives Him welcome to her Shores; And WILLIAM's Death with leffen'd Grief deplores. His Prefence only muft retrieve That Lofs: MARLBRO to Her muft be what WILLIAM Was. So when great ATLAS, from these low Aboads Recall'd, was gather'd to his Kindred-Gods; ALCIDES refpited by prudent Fate,
Suftain'd the Ball, nor droop'd beneath the Weight. Secret and Swift behold the Chief advance;
Sees half the Empire join'd, and Friend to FRANCE: The BRITISH General dooms the Fight; His Sword Dreadful He draws: The Captains wait the Word. ANNE and St. GEORGE, the charging Hero cries: Shrill Echo from the neighb'ring Wood replies ANNE and St. GEORGE.
-At That aufpicious Sign The Standards move; the adverse Armies join. Of Eight great Hours, Time measures ought the Sands; And EUROPE's Fate in doubtful Balance stands:
The Ninth, VICTORIA Comes:---o'er MARLBRO'sHead Confefs'd She fits; the Hoftile Troops recede:- Triumphs the GODDESS, from her Promife freed. The Eagle, by the BRITISH Lion's Might Unchain'd and Free, directs her upward Flight: Nor did She e'er with ftronger Pinions foar
From TYBER'S Banks, than now from DANUBE's Shoar. Fir'd with the Thoughts which these Ideas raise, And great Ambition of my Country's Praise;
The ENGLISH Mufe fhould like the MANTUAN rife, Scornful of Earth and Clouds, fhould reach the Skies, With Wonder (tho' with Envy ftill) purfu'd by Human
But We must change the Style
I ne'er was Master of the tuneful Trade.
Or the small Genius which my Youth could boasts In Profe and Business lies extinct and loft. ( Blefs'd, if I may fome younger Muse excite; Point out the Game, and animate the Flight: That from Marseilles to Calais FRANCE may know, As We have Conqu'rors, We have Poets too; And either Laurel does in BRITAIN grow:
That, tho' amongst our felves, with too much Heat, We fometimes wrangle, when We should debate; (A confequential Ill which Freedom draws;
A bad Effect, but from a Noble Caufe) We can with univerfal Zeal advance, To curb the faithlefs Arrogance of FRANCE. Nor ever fhall BRITANNIA's Sons refufe To answer to thy Mafter, or thy Mufe; Nor want juft Subject for victorious Strains; While MARLBRÔ's Arm Eternal Laurel gains; And where old SPENCER fung, a new ELISA reigns.
The Effigies of the QUEEN on a Triumphal Arch,
The Figure of the DUKE of MARL BOROUGH beneath,
The Chief Rivers of the World round the whole Work.
YE active Streams, where e'er your Waters flow,
Let diftant Climes and furtheft Nations know, What Ye from Thames and Danube have been taught, HOW ANNE Commanded, and how MARLBRO Fought.
Quacunque aterno properatis, Flumina, lapfu,
Divifis latè Terris, Populifque remotis
Dicite, nam vobis TAMISIS narravit & ISTER,
ANNA quid Imperiis potuit, quid MARLBURUS Armis.
The CHAMELEON.
As the Chameleon, who is known
To have no Colours of his own; But borrows from his Neighbour's Hue His White or Black, his Green or Blue; And ftruts as much in ready Light, Which Credit gives Him upon Sight; As if the Rain-bow were in Tail Settl'd on Him, and his Heirs Male : So the young 'Squire, when first He comes From Country Schloe to WILL's or Tom's; And equally, in Truth, is fit
To be a Statefman, or a Wit; Without one Notion of his own, He Santers wildly up and down; "Till fome Acquaintance, good or bad, Takes notice of a staring Lad;
Admits Him in among the Gang:
They jeft, reply, difpute, harangue:
He acts and talks, as They befriend Him,
Smeard with the Colours, which They lend Him. Thus merely, as his Fortune chances, re His Merit or his Vice advances.
If happly He the Sect pursues, That read and comment upon News; He takes up Their myfterious Face: He drinks his Coffee without Lace.! This Week his mimic-Tongue runs o'er What they have faid the Week before.
His Wisdom fets all EUROPE right;
And teaches MARLBRÔ when to Fight.
Or if it be his Fate to meet
With Folks who have more Wealth than Wit; He loves cheap Port, and double Bubs And fettles in the Hum-Drum Club: He learns how Stocks will Fall or Rise; Holds Poverty the greatest Vices Thinks Wit the Bane of Conversation; And fays, that Learning spoils a Nation. But if, at first, He minds his Hits, And drinks Champaine among the Wits; Five deep He Toafts the tow'ring Laffes; Repeats you Verses wrote on Glaffes; Is in the Chair; preferibes the Law; And Lies with Those he never saw.
LY MERRY ANDREW, the laft Southwark Fair
S(At Barthol' mew He did not much appear;
So peevish was the Edict of the May'r
At Southwark therefore as his Tricks He fhow'd, To please our Mafters, and his Friends, the Croud; A huge Neats-Tongue He in his Right Hand held: His Left was with a good Black-Pudding fill'd. With a grave Look, in this odd Equipage, The clownish Mimic traverses the Stage:
Why how now, ANDREW! cries his Brother Droll, To Day's Conceit, methinks, is fomething dull:
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