In vain they would advance, in vain retreat;
Broken they dash, and perish at her feet.
For William ftill new wonders fhall be shown:
The powers, that refcued, fhall preferve the throne.
Safe on his darling Britain's joyful fea,
Behold, the monarch plows his liquid way:
His fleets in thunder through the world declare,
Whofe empire they obey, whofe arms they bear.
Blefs'd by afpiring winds, he finds the ftrand
Blacken'd with crouds; he fees the nation ftand,
Bleffing his fafety, proud of his command.
In various tongues he hears the captains dwell
On their great leader's praife; by turns they tell,
And liften, each with emulous glory fir'd,
How William conquer'd, and how France retir'd;
How Belgia, freed, the hero's arm confefs'd,
But trembled for the courage which the bleft.
O Louis, from this great example know,
To be at once a hero and a foe:
Bv founding trumpets, hear, and rattling drums,
When William to the open vengeance comes:
And fee the foldier plead the monarch's right,
Heading his troops, and foremost in the fight.
Hence then, clofe ambush and perfidious war,
Down to your native feats of night repair.
And thou, Bellona, weep thy cruel pride
Reftrain'd, behind the victor's cha iot tied
In brazen knots and everlasting chains
(So Europe's peace, fo William's fate ordains).
While on the ivory chair, in happy ftate,
He fits, fecure in innocence, and great
In regal clemency; and views beneath
Averted darts of rage, and pointless arms of death.
Written at The HAGUE, 1696.
WHILE with labour affiduous due pleasure I mix,
And in one day atone for the bufinefs of fix,
In a little Dutch chaife on a Saturday night,
On my left-hand my Horace, a Nymph on my right:
No memoirs to compofe, and no post-boy to move,
That on Sunday may hinder the foftnefs of love;
For her, neither vifits, nor parties at tea,
Nor the long-winded cant of a duli refugee.
This night and the next fhall be her's, fhall be mine,
To good or ill-fortune the third we refign:
Thus fcorning the world, and fuperior to fate,
I drive on my car in proceffional state.
So with Phia through Athens Pifistratus rode;
Men thought her Minerva, and him a new god.
But why fhould I ftories of Athens rehearse,
Where people knew love, and were partial to verfe;
Since none can with juftice my pleasures oppose,
In Holland half drowned in interest and profe?
By Greece and past ages what need I be tried,
When The Hague and the prefent are both on my fide?
And is it enough for the joys of the day,
To think what Anacreon or Sappho would say?
When good Vandergoes, and his provident Vrow,
As they gaze on my triumph, do freely allow,
That, fearch all the province, you'll find no man dar is,
So bleft as the Englishen Heer Secretar' is.
TO CLOE WEEPING.
EE, whilft thou weep'ft, fair Cloe, fee
The world in fympathy with thee.
The chearful birds no longer fing;
Each drops his head, and hangs his wing.
The clouds have bent their bofom lower,
And shed their forrows in a shower.
The brooks beyond their limits flow;
And louder murmurs fpeak their woe.
The nymphs and swains adopt thy cares ;
They heave thy fighs, and weep thy tears.
Fantastic nymph! that grief should move
Thy heart obdurate against love.
Strange tears! whose power can soften all,
But that dear breaft on which they fall,
DEAR Howard, from the foft affaults of love,
Poets and Painters never are fecure;
Can I untouch'd the fair-one's paffions move;
Or thou draw beauty, and not feel its power?
To great Apelles when young Ammon brought
The darling idol of his captive heart;
And the pleas'd nymph with kind attention fat,
To have her charms recorded by his art:
The amorous mafter own'd her potent eyes;
Sigh'd when he look'd, and trembled as he drew;
Each flowing line confirm'd his first furprize,
And, as the piece advanc'd, the passion grew.
While Philip's fon, while Venus' fon, was near,
What different tortures does his bofom feel!
Great was the Rival, and the God fevere :
Nor could he hide his flame, nor durft reveal.
V.
The prince, renown'd in bounty as in arms,
With pity faw the ill-conceal'd diftrefs;
Quitted his title to Campafpe's charms,
And gave the fair-one to the friend's embrace.
Thus the more beauteous Cloe fat to thee,
Good Howard, emulous of the Grecian art :
But happy thou, from Cupid's arrow free,
And flames that pierc'd thy predeceffor's heart!
VII.
Had thy poor breaft receiv'd an equal pain;
Had I been vefted with the monarch's power;
Thou must have figh'd, unlucky youth, in vain ;
Nor from my bounty hadit thou found a cure.
Though, to convince thee that the friend did feel
A kind concern for thy ill-fated care,
I would have footh'd the flame I could not heal;
Given thee the world; though I with-held the fair.
LOVE DISAR ME D.
BENEATH a myrtle's verdant shade
As Cloe half afleep was laid,
Cupid perch'd lightly on her breaft,
And in that heaven defir'd to rest:
Over her paps his wings he fpread;
Between he found a downy bed,
And neftled-in his little head.
Still lay the God: the nymph, furpriz'd,
Yet miftrefs of herfelf, devis'd,
How fhe the vagrant might inthrall,
And captive him, who captives all.
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