Here shatter'd walls, like broken rocks, from far,
Rife up in hideous views, the guilt of war;
Whilft 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 fouls by instinct to each other turn,
Demand alliance, and in friendship burn:
A fudden friendship, while with ftretch'd-out rays
They meet each other, mingling blaze with blaze.
Polish'd in courts, and harden'd in the field,
Renown'd for conqueft, and in council skill'd;
Their courage dwells not in a troubl'd flood
Of mounting spirits and fermenting blood:
Lodg'd in the foul, with virtue over-rul'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 fouls like thefe, in mutual friendship join'd,
Heav'n dares intruft the cause of human-kind.
Britannia's graceful fons appear in arms,
Her harass'd troops the hero's prefence warms;
Whilft the high hills and rivers all around,
With thund'ring peals of British fhouts refound:
Doubling their speed, they march with fresh delight,
Eager for glory, and require the fight.
So the ftaunch hound the trembling deer pursues,
And smells his footsteps in the tainted dews,
The tedious track unrav'lling by degrees;
But when the fcent comes warm in ev'ry breeze,
Fir'd at the near approach, he shoots away
On his full ftretch, and bears upon his prey.
The march concludes, the various realms are paft,
Th' immortal Schellemberg appears at laft:
Like hills th' afpiring ramparts rife on high,
Like vallies at their feet the trenches lie;
Batt'ries on batt'ries guard each fatal pass,
Threat'ning deftruction; rows of hollow brafs,
Tube behind tube, the dreadful entrance keep,
Whilft in their wombs ten thousand thunders fleep.
Great Churchill owns, charm'd with the glorious fight,
His march o'erpaid by fuch a promis'd fight.
The western fun now fhot a feeble ray,
And faintly scatter'd the remains of day:
Ev'ning approach'd; but oh! what hofts of foes
Were never to behold that ev'ning close !
Thick'ning their ranks, and wedg'd in firm array,
The clofe-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 preffing forward to the fight, they broke
Thro' flames of fulphur and a night of smoke;
Till flaughter'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 fhow'rs of bullets, and with ftorms of fire)
Burns in full fury; heaps on heaps expire;
Nations with nations mix'd confus'dly die,
And loft, in one promifcuous carnage lie.
How many gen'rous Britons meet their doom,
New to the field, and heroes in the bloom!
Th' illuftrious youths, that left their native fhore
To march where Britons never march'd before;
(O fatal love of fame! O glorious heat!
Only destructive to the brave and great !)
After fuch toils o'ercome, fuch dangers paft,
Stretch'd on Bavarian ramparts breathe their last.
But hold, my Mufe! may no complaints appear,
Nor blot the day with an ungrateful tear;
While Marlbrô lives Britannia's ftars difpenfe
A friendly light, and fhine in innocence:
Plunging thro' feas of blood his fiery fteed,
Where'er his friends retire or foes fucceed;
Those he supports, these drives to fudden flight,
And turns the various fortune of the fight.
Forbear, great man! renown'd in arms! forbear
To brave the thickeft terrors of the war;
Nor hazard thus, confus'd in crowds of foes,
Britannia's fafety, and the world's repofe :
Let nations, anxious for thy life, abate
This fcorn of danger and contempt of fate.
Thou liv'ft not for thyfelf; thy queen demands
Conqueft and peace from thy victorious hands:
Kingdoms and empires in thy fortune join,
And Europe's destiny depends on thine.
At length, the long-difputed pass they gain,
By crouded 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 fhatter'd fides,
The fea's whole weight increas'd with fwelling tides;
But if the rushing wave a paffage finds,
Enrag'd by wat❜ry moons and warring winds,
The trembling peafant fees his country round
Cover'd with tempefts, and in oceans drown'd.
The few furviving foes difpers'd in flight,
(Refufe of fwords, and gleanings of a fight)
In ev'ry rustling wind the victor hear,
And Marlbro's form in ev'ry shadow fear;
Till the dark cope of night, with kind embrace,
Befriends the rout, and covers their disgrace.
To Donavert, with unrefifted force,
gay victorious army bends it's course. The growth of meadows, and the pride of fields, Whatever spoils Bavaria's fummer yields, (The Danube's great increafe) Britannia fhares, The food of armies and fupport of wars:
With magazines of death, deftructive balls,
And cannon doom'd to batter Landau's walls,
The victor finds each hidden cavern ftor'd,
And turns their fury on their guilty lord.
Deluded prince! how is thy greatnefs crofs'd,
And all the gaudy dream of empire loft,
That proudly fet thee on a fancy'd throne,
And made imaginary realms thy own!
Thy troops, that now behind the Danube join,
Shall shortly feek for shelter from the Rhine;
Nor find it there: furrounded with alarms,
Thou hop'ft th' affiftance of the Gallick arms.
The Gallick arms in fafety fhall advance,
And croud thy ftandards with the pow'r of France;
While, to exalt thy doom, th' afpiring Gaul
Shares thy deftruction, and adorns thy fall.
Unbounded courage and compaffion join'd,
Temp'ring each other in the victor's mind,
Alternately proclaim him good and great,
And make the hero and the man compleat.
Long did he strive th' obdurate foe to gain
By proffer'd grace, but long he ftrove in vain ;
Till, fir'd at length, he thinks it vain to spare
His rifing wrath, and gives a loose to war.
vengeance rouz'd, the foldier fills his hand
With fword and fire, and ravages the land;
A thousand villages to afhes 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 fhade partake,
And cries of infants found in ev'ry brake:
The lift'ning foldier fix'd in forrow ftands,
Loth to obey his leader's juft commands;
The leader grieves, by gen'rous pity fway'd,
To see his just commands fo well obey'd.
But now the trumpet, terrible from far,
In fhriller clangors animates the war ;
Confed'rate drums in fuller concert beat,
And echoing hills the loud alarm repeat.
Gallia's proud ftandards, to Bavaria's join'd,
Unfurl their gilded lilies in the wind;
The daring prince his blasted hopes renews,
And while the thick embattled hoft he views,
Stretch'd out in deep array and dreadful length,
His heart dilates, and glories in his ftrength.
The fatal day it's mighty courfe began,
That the griev'd world had long defir'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 bitternefs of foul preferr'd;
Europe's loud cries, that Providence affail'd,
And Anna's ardent vows at length prevail'd:
The day was come, when Heav'n defign'd to show
His care and conduct of the world below.
Behold, in awful march and dread array,
The long-extended squadrons shape their way!
Death, in approaching terrible, imparts
An anxious horror to the braveft hearts :
Yet do their beating breafts demand the ftrife,
And thirst of glory quells the love of life.
No vulgar fears can British minds controul;
Heat of revenge, and noble pride of foul,
O'erlook the foe, advantag'd by his poft,
Leffen his numbers, and contract his hoft.
Tho' fens and floods poffefs'd the middle space,
That unprovok'd they would have fear'd to pafs;
Nor fens nor floods can stop Britannia's bands,
When her proud foe rang'd on their borders ftands.
But, O! my Muse, what numbers wilt thou find
To fing the furious troops in battle j‹ in'd ! -
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