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Mais, ô ma fidele lyre,
Si, dans l'ardeur qui m'inspire,
Tu peus suivre mes transports :
Les chênes des monts de Thrace
N'ont rien oüi, que n'efface
La douceur de tes accords.
Est-ce Apollon et Neptune,
Qui sur ces rocs sourcilleux
Ont, compagnons de Fortune,
Basti ces murs orgueilleux ?
De leur enceinte, fameuse
La Sambre unie à la Meuse,
Defend le fatal abord;
Et par cens bouches horribles
L'airain sur ces monts terrible
Vomit le fer, & la inort.
Dix mille vaillans Alcides
Les bordant de toutes parts,
D'éclairs au loin homicides
Font petiller leurs remparts :
· Et dans son sein infidele
Par toute la terre y recele
Un feu prêt à s'élancer,
Qui soudain perçant son goufre,
Ouvre un sepulchre de soufre,
A quiconque ose avancer.
Namur, devant tes murailles
Jadis la Grece eût vingt ans
Sans fruit veu les funerailles
De ses plus fiers combattans.
Quelle effroyable puissance
Aujourd'hui pourtant s'avance,
Prête à foudroyer tes monts ?
Quel bruit, quel feu l'environne?
C'est Jupiter en personne;
Ou c'est le vainqueur de Mons.
N'en doute point: c'est lui-même,
Tout brille en lui ; tout est roi.
Dans Bruxelles Nassau blêrne
Commence à trembler pour toi.
En vain il voit le Batâve,
Desormais docile esclave,
Rangé sous ses étendarts :
En vain au lion Belgique
Il voit l'aigle Germanique
Uni sous les leopards.
Plein de la frayeur nouvelle,
Dont ses sens sont agités,
A son secours il appelle
Les peuples les plus vantés.
Ceux-là viennent du rivage,
Où s'enorgueillit le Tage
De l'or, qui roule en ses eaux;
Ceux-ci des champs, où la neige
Des marar de la Norvége
Neuf mois couvre les roseaux.
Mais qui fait enfler la Sambre?
Sous les Jumeaux effrayés,
Des froids torrens de Decembre
Les champs par tout sont noyée.
Ceres s'enfuit, éplorée
De voir en proye à Borée
Ses guerets d'epis chargés
Et sous les urns fangeuses ?
Des Hyades orageuses
Tous ses trésors sul mergés.

Déployez toutes vos rages,
Princes, vents, peuples, frimats ;
Ramassez tous vos nuages;
Rassemblez tous vos soldats.
Malgré vous Namur en poudre
S'en va tomber sous la foudre
Qui domta Lille, Courtray,
Gand la superbe Espagnole,
Saint Omer, Bezançon, Dole,
Ypres, Mastricht, & Cambray.
Mes présages s'accomplissent :
Il commence à chanceler:
Sous les coups qui retentissent
Ses murs s'en vont s'écrouler.
Mars en feu qui les domine,
Souffle à grand bruit leur ruine,
Et les bombes dans les airs
Allant chercher le tonnere,
Semblent tombant sur la terre,
Vouloir s'ouvrir les enfers.
Accourez, Nassau, Baviere,
De ces murs l'unique espoir:
A couvert d'une riviere
Venez : vous pouvez tout voir.
Considerez ces approches :
Voyez grimper sur ces roches
Ces athletes belliqueux;
Et dans les eaux, dans la flame,
Louis à tout donnant l'ame,
Marcher, courir avec eux.
Contemplez dans la tempête,
Qui sort de ces boulevards,
La plume qui sur sa tête
Attire tous les regards.
A cet astre redoubtable
Toûjours un sort favorable
S'attache dans les combats:
Et toûjours avec la gloire
Mars amenant la victoire
Vole, & le suit à grands pas
Grands defenseurs de l'Espagne,
Montrez-vous: il en est tems:
Courage; vers la Mahagne
Voilà vos drapeaux dottans.
Jamais ses ondes craintives
N'ont vû sur leurs foibles rive's
Tant de guerriers s'amasser.
Courez donc: Qui vous retarde ?
Tout l'univers rous regarde.
N'osez vous la traverser?

Loin de fermer le passage
A vos nombreux bataillons,
Luxembourg a du rivage
Recule ses pavillorts.
Quoi ? leur seul aspect vous glace?
Où sont ces chefs pleins d'audace,
Jadis si prompts à marcher,
Qui devoient de la Tamise,
Et de la Drâve soûmise,
Jusqu' à Paris nous chercher?
Cependant l'effroi redouble
Sur les reinparts de Namur.
Son gouverneur qui se trouble
S'ensuit sous son dernier mur.
Dėja jusques à ses portes.
Je voi monter vos cohortes,

La fame & le fer en main :

What godhcad does so fast advance, Et sur les monceaux de piques,

With dreadful power, those hills to gain? De corps morts, de rocs, de briques,

'Tis little Will, the scourge of France; S'ouvrir un large cheunin.

No godhead, but the first of men.

His mortal arm exerts the power C'en est fait. Je viens d'entendre

To keep c'en Mons's victor under: Sur ces rochers éperdus

And that same Jupiter no more Battre un signal pour se rendre :

Shall fright the world with impious thundes. Le feu cesse. Ils sont rendus. Dépouillez votre arrogance,

Our king thus trembles at Namur; Fiers ennemis de la France,

Whilst Villeroy, who ne'er afraid is, Ft desormais gracieux,

To Bruxelles marches on secure, Allez à Liege, à Bruxelles,

To bomb the inonks, and scare the ladies Porter les hombles nouvelles

After this glorious expedition,
De Namur pris à vos yeux.

One battle makes the marshal great:
He must perform the king's commission:

Who knows but Orange may retreat!

Kings are allou'd to feign the gout,
AN ENGLISH BALLAD,

Or be prevail'd with not to light:

And mighty Louis hop'd, no doubt,
Q¥ TRE TAKING OF NAMUR BY TIE KING OF GREAT That William would preserve that right
BRITAIN, 1695.

From Seine and Loire, to Rhone and Po,
Dulce est desipere in loco.

See every mother's son appear:

In such a case ne'er blame a foe, Some folks are drunk, yet do not know it:

If he betrays some little fear. So might not Bacchus give you law?

He comes, the mighty Villeroy comes; Was it a Muse, O lofty poet,

Finds a small river in his way; Or virgin of St. Cyr, you saw ?

So waves his colours, beats his drums, Why all this fury? what's the matter,

And thinks it prudent there to stay. That oaks must come from Thrace to dance? The Gallic troops breathe blood and war; Blust stupid stocks be taught to flatter?

The marshal cares not to march faster: And is there no such wood in France ?

Poor Villeroy inoves so slowly here, Why must the winds all hold their tongue?

We fancied all, it was his master. If they a little breath should raise,

Will no kind food, no friendly rain, Would that have spoil'd the poet's song,

Disguise the marshal's plain disgrace! Or puff'd away the monarch's praise ?

No torrents swell the low Mehayne? Pindar, that eagle, mounts the skies,

The world will say, he durst not pass. While Virtue leads the noble way:

Why will no Hyades appear, Too like a vulture Boileau fies,

Dear poet, on the banks of Sambre; Where sordid Interest shows the prey.

Just as they did that mighty year, When once the poet's honour ceases,

When you turn'd June into December? Prom reason far his transports rove:

The water-nymphs are too unkind And Boileau, for eight hundred pieces,

To Villeroy ; are the land-nymphs so ? Makes Louis take the wall of Jove.

And fy they all, at once combin'd

To shame a general, and a beau ? Neptune and Sol came from above,

Truth, Justice, Sense, Religion, Fame,
Shap'd like Megrigny and Vauban :

May join to finish William's story:
They arm'd these rocks; then show'd old Jove
Of Marli wood the wondrous plan.

Nations set free may bless his name;
Such walls, these three wise gods agreed,

And France in secret own his glory. By human force could ne'er be shaken:

But Ypres, Mastricht, and Cambray, But you and I in Homer read

Besan on, Ghent, St. Omers, Lisle, Of gods, as well as men, mistaken.

Courtray, and Dole- Ye critics, say, Sambre and Maese their waves may join,

How poor to this was Pindar's style ?

With ekes and alsos tack thy strain,
But ne'er can William's force restrain:
He'll pass them both, who pass'd the Boyne:

Great bard! and sing the deathless prince,

Who lost Namur the same campaign Remember this, and arm the Seine.

He bought Dixmuyd, and plunder'd Deynse. Full fifteen thousand lusty fellows,

I'll hold ten pound my dream is out: With fire and sword, the fort maintain :

I'd tell it you, but for the rattle Fach was a Hercules, you tell us;

Of those confounded drums; no doubt Yet out they march'd, like cominon men.

Yon bloody rogues intend a battle. Cannons above, and mines below,

Dear me! a hundred thousand French Did death and tombs for foes contrive:

With terrour till the neighbouring field; Yet matters have been order'd so,

While Williain carries on the trench, That most of us are still alive.

Till both the town and castle yield. I Namur be compar'd to Troy;

Villeroy to Bouftlers should advance, Then Britain's boys excell'd the Greeks :

Says Mars, throngh cannons' mouths in fire; Toeir siege did ten long years employ;

Id est, one inareschal of France We've donc our business in ten wocks,

Tells t'other, he can come no nigher.

Regain the lines the shortest way,

| My softest verse, my darling lyre, Villeroy; or to Versailles take post;

Upon Euphelia's toilet lay; For, having seen it, thou canst say

When Clue noted her desire,
The steps, by which Namur was lost.

That I should sing, that I should play.
The smoke and flame may vex thy sight:
Look not once back: but, as thon goest,

My lyre I tune, my voice I raise,
Quicken the squadrons in their Aight,

But with my numbers mix my sighs;

And, whilst I sing Euphelia's praise,
And bid the Devil take the slowest.
Think not what reason to produce,

. I fix my soul on Cloe's eyes. From Louis to conceal thy fear:

Fair Cloe blush'd: Euphelia frown'd: He'll own the strength of thy excuse;

I sung, and gaz'd: I play'd, and trembled : Tell him that William was but there.

And Venus to the Loves around Now let us look for Louis' feather,

Remark'd, how ill we all dissembled. 'That us'd to shine so like a star: The generals could not get together,

Wanting that influence, great in war.
O poet! thou hadst been discreeter,
Hanging the monarch's hat so high,

PRESENTED TO THE KING,
If thou hadst dubb'd thy star, a meteor,
That did but blaze, and rove, and die.

AT HIS ARRIVAL IN HOLLAND, AFTER TIE DISCOVEAY To animate the doubtful fight,

OF THE CONSPIRACY, 1696. Namur in vain expects that ray:

Serus in cælum redeas ; diúque In vain France hopes, the sickly light

Lietus intersis populo Quirini ; Should shine near William's fuller day:

Néve te nostris vitiis iniquum It know's Versailles, its proper station;

Ocyor aura Nor cares for any foreign sphere:

Tollat

Hor. ad Augustuwi. Where you see Boileau's constellation, Be sure no danger can be near.

Ye careful angels, whom eternal Fate The French had gather'd all their force;

Ordains, on Earth and human acts to wait; And William met them in their way:

Who turn with secret power this restless ball, Yet off they brush'd, both foot and horse.

And bid predestin'd empires rise and fall : What has friend Boileau left to say ?

Your sacred aid religious monarchs own, When his high Muse is bent upon't,

When first they merit, then ascend the throne: To sing her king--that great commander, But tyrants dread you, lest your just decree Or on the shores of Hellespont,

Transfer the power, and set the people free. Or in the valleys near Scamander;

See rescued Britain at your altars bow; Would it not spoil his noble task,

And hear her hymns your happy care arow: If any foolish Phrygian there is,

That still her axes and her rods support Impertinent enough to ask,

The judge's frown, and grace the awful court; How far Namur may be from Paris ?

That Law with all her pompous terrour stands, . Two stanzas more before we end,

To wrest the dagger from the traitour's hands Of death, pikes, rocks, arms, bricks, and fire:

And rigid Justice reads the fatal word, Leave them behind you, honest friend;

Poises the balance first, then draws the sword. And with your countrymen retire.

Britain her safety to your guidance owns, Your ode is spoilt: Namur is freed;

That she can separate parricides from sons ; For Dixmuyd something yet is due:

That, impious rage disarm'a, she lives and reigns, So good count Guiscard may proceed;

Her freedom kept by him, who broke her chains. But Boufflers, sir, one word with you. -

And thou, great minister, above the rest

Of guardian spirits, be thou for ever blest; Tis done. In sight of these commanders,

Thou who of old wast sent to Israel's court, Who neither fight, nor raise the siege,

With secret aid, great David's strong support, The foes of France march safe through Flanders;

To mock the frantic rage of cruel Saul, Divide to Bruxelles, or to Liege.

And strike the useless javelin to the wall. Send, Fame, this news to Trianon,

Thy later care o'cr William's temples held, That Boutiers may new honours gain:

On Buyne's propitious banks, the heavenly shield, He the same play by land has shown,

When power divine did sovereign right declare; As Tourville did upon the main.

And cannops mark'd whom they were bid to spare Yet is the marshal made a peer:

Still, blessed angel, be thy care the same ! O William, may thy arins advance !

Be William's life untouch'd as is his fame! That he may lose Dinant next year, ,

Let him own thine, as Britain owns his hand : And so be constable of France.

Save thou the king, as he has sav'd the land!

We angels' forins in pious monarchs view;

We reverence William; for he acts like you; AN ODE.

Like you, commission'd to chastise and bless,

He must avenge the world, and give it peace. The merchant, to secure his treasure,

Indulgent Fate our potent prayer receives; Conveys it in a borrow'd name :

And still Britannia smiles, and William lives. Euphelia serves to grace my measure;

The hero dear to Earth, by Heaven belov'd. But Cloe is my real fame.

* By troubles must be vex'd, by dangers pror'ds

His foes must aid, to make his fame complete, | And is it enough for the joys of the day,
And fix his throne secure on their defeat.

To think what Anacreon or Sappho would say ?
So, though with sudden rage the tempest comes; ! When good Vandergoes, and his provident vrow,
Though the winds roar; and though the water As they gaze on iny triumph, do freely allow,
Imperial Britain on the sea looks down, [foams ; | That, search all the province, you'll find no man
And smiling sees her rebel-subjects frown.

dar is
Striking her cliff, the storm confirms her power; So blest as the Englishen Heer Secretar' is.
The waves but whiten her tiumphant shore:
In vain they would adrance, in vain retreat;
Broken they dash, and perish at her feet.
For William still new wonders shall be shown :

TO CLOE WEEPING.
The powers, that rescued, shall preserve the
Safe on bis darling Britain's joyiul sea, (throne. See, whilst thou weep'st, fair Cloe, see
Behold, the monarch plows his liquid way: The world in sympathy with thee.
His tieets in thun ler through the world declare, The cheerful birds no longer sing;
Wbose empire they obey, whose arms they bcar. Each drops his head, and hangs his wing.
Bless'd by aspiring winds, he finds the strand The clouds have bent their bosom lower,
Blacken'd with crowds; he sees the nation stand, And shed their sorrows in a shower.
Blessing his safety, proud of his command.

The brooks beyond their limits flow;
In various tongues he hears the captains dwell Ind louder murmurs speak their woe.
On th ir great leader's praise ; by turns they tell, The nymphs and swains adopt thy cares;
And listen. each with emulous glory tir'd,

They heave thy sighs, and weep thy tears.
How William conquer'd, and how France retir'd; | Fantastic nymph! that grief should move
How Belgia freed the hero's arins confess'd, Thy heart obturate against love.
But trembled for the courage which she blest. Sirange tears! whose power can soften all,
O Louis, from this great example know,

But that dear breast on which they fall.
To be at once a hero and a foe:
By sounding trumpets, hear, and rattling drums,
When William to the open vengeance com's:
And see the soldier plead the monarch's right,

70 MR. HOWARD.
Heading his troops, and foremost in the fight.
Hence then, close Ambush and perfidious War,

AN ODE. Down to your native seats of Night repair.

Dear Howard, from the soft assaults of Love, And thou, Bellona, weep thy cruel pride Restrain'd, behind the victor's chariot tied

Pocts and painters never are secure ;

Can I untouch'd the fair-one s passions move, In brazen knots and everlasting chains, (So Europe's peace, so William's fate ordains)

Or thou draw Beauty, and not feel its power ? While on the ivory chair, in happy state,

To great Apolles when young Ammon brought He sits, secure in innocence, and great

The darling idol of his captive heart; In regal clemency; and views beneath

And the pleas d nymph with kind attention sat, Averted darts of Rage, and pointless arms of Death.

To have her charms recorded by bis art :
The amorous master own'd her potent eyes;

Sigh when he lock'd, and trembled as he drew;

Each flowing line contirm'd his first surprise,
THE SECRETARY.

And, as the piece advanc'd, the passion grew,
WRITTEN AT THE HAGUE, 1696.

While Philip's son, while Venus' son, was near, While with labour assiduous due pleasure I mix,

What diferent tortures does his bosom feel!

Great was the rival, and the god severe : And in one day atone for the business of six,

Nor could he hide his tlame, nor durst reveal. In a little Dutch chaise on a Saturday night, On my left-hand my Horace, a nymph on my | The prince, renown'd in bounty as in arms, right:

With pity saw the ill-conceal'd distress; No memoirs to compose, and no post-boy to move, | Quitted his title to Campaspe's charms, That on Sunday may hinder the softness of love; And gave the fair-one to the friend's embrace. For her, neither visits, nor parties at tea, Nor the lonz-winded cant of a dull refugee.

Thus the more beauteous Cloe sat to thee, This night and the next shall be hers, shall be

Good Howard, einulous of the Grecian art : To good or ill-fortune the third we resign: (mine,

But happy thou, from Cupid's arrow free, Thus scorning the world and superior to fate,

And names that pierc dtby predecessor's heart! I drive on my car in processional state.

Had thy poor breast receiv'd an equal pain; So with Phia through Athens Pisistratus rode;

Had I been vested with the monarch's power; Men thought her Minerva, and him a new god.

Thou must have sigh’d, unlucky youth, in vain; But why should I stories of Athens rehearse,

Nor from my bounty hadst thou found a cure. Where people knew love, and were partial to verse; Since none can with justice my pleasures oppose, Though, to convince thee that the friend did feel In Holland half drowned in interest and prose?

A kind concern for thy ill-fated care, By Greece and past ages what need I be tried, I would have sooth'd the flaine I could not heal; When the Hague and the present are both on my Given thee the world; though I withheld the side

fair,

But in this nymph, my friend, my sister kron: LOVE DISARVED.

She draws my arrows, and she bends my bow:

Fair Thames she haunts, and ever neighbouring Beneath a myrtle's verdant shade

Sacred to soft recess, and gentle love. (grove, As Cloe half asleep was laid,

Go, with thy Cynthia, hurl the pointed spear Cupid perch'd lightly on her breast,

At the rough boar, or chase the dying deer: And in that Heaven desir'd to rest :

I and my Cloe take a nobler aim: Over her paps his wings he spread :

At human hearts we fling, nor ever miss the game."
Between he found a downy bed,
And nestled in his little head.

Still lay the god : the nymph, surpris'd,
Yet mistress of herself, derisid
How she the vagrant might inthral,

CUPID AND GANY MEDE.
And captive him, who captives all.
Her bodice half-way she unlac'd;

Is Heaven, one holiday, you read
About his arms she slily cast

In wise Anacreon, Ganymede The silken bond, and held him fast.

Drew heedless Cupid in, to throw The god awak'd; and thrice in vain

A main, to pass av hour, or so. He strove to break the cruel chain;

The little Trojan by the way, And thrice in vain he shook his wing,

By Hermes taught, play'd all the play. Encumber'd in the silken string.

The god unhappily engag'd, Flutt ring the god, and weeping, said,

By nature rash, by play enrag'd, . “ Pity poor Cupid, generous maid,

Complain'd, and sigh’d, and cried and fretted ; Who happen'd, being blind, to stray,

Lost every earthly thing he betted: And on thy bosom lost his way;

In ready money, all the store Who strav'd, alas! but knew too well,

Pick'd up long since from Danac's shower; He never there must hope to dwell:

A snuff-box, set with bleeding hearts, Set an unhappy prisoner free,

Rubies, all pierc'd with diamond darts; Who ne'er intended harm to thee."

His nine-pins made of myrtle wood “ To me pertains not,” she replies,

(The tree in Ida's forest stood); To know or care where Cupid flies;

His bowl pure gold, the very same What are his haunts, or which his way ;

Which Paris gave the Cyprian dame; Where he would dwell, or whither stray :

Two table-books in shagreen covers, Yet will I never set thee free;

Fill'd with good verse froin real lovers; Yor harm was meant, and harm to me.”

Merchandise rare ! a billet-doux, “ Vain fears that vex thy virgin heart! Its matter passionate, yet true; I'll give thee up my bow and dart;

Heaps of hair-rings, and cypherd seals; Untangle but this cruel chain,

Rich tritles; serious bagatelles. And freely let me fiy again."

What sad disorders play begets ! Agreed: secure my virgin heart:

Desperate and mad, at length he sets Instant give up thy bow and dart:

Those darts, whose points make gods adore . The chain I'll in return untie;

His might, and depr cate his power : And freely thou again shalt Ay."

Those darts, whence all our joy and pain Thus she the captive did deliver ;

Arise : those darts—“ Come, seven's the main The captive thus gave up his quiver.

Cries Ganymede : the usual trick: The god disarın'd, e'er since that day,

Seven, slur a six ; eleven, a nick. Passes his life in harmless play;

Ill news goes fast: 'twas quickly known Flies round, or sits upon her brcast,

That simple Cupid was undone. "
A little, futtering, idle guest.

Swifter than lightning Venus flew :
F'er since that day, the beauteous maid Too late she found the thing too true.
Governs the world in Cupid's stead;

Guess how the goddess greets her son:
Directs his arrow as she wills;

“ Come hither, sirrah; no, begone! Gives grief, or pleasure ; spares, or kills. And, hark ye, is it so indeed ?

A comrade you for Ganymede?
An imp as wicked, for his age,

As any earthly lauly's page;
CLOE HUNTING.

A scandal and a scourge to Troy ;

A prince's son! a black-guard boy ; Behind her neck her comely tresses tied,

A sharper, that with box and dice Her ivory quiver graceful by her side,

Draws in young deities to vice.
A hunting Cloe went: she lost her way,

All Heaven is by the cars together,
And through the woods uncertain chanc'd to stray. I Since tirst that little rogue came hither:
Apollo, passing by, beheld the maid,

Juno herself has had no peace :
And. “ Sister dear, bright Cynthia, turn,” he said; | And truly I've been favour'd less :
“ The hunted hind lies close in yonder brake.” For Jove, as Fame ro ports (but Fame
Loud Cupid laugh'd, to see the God's mistake, Savs things not fit for ine to name),
And, laughing, cried, “ Learn better, great divine, / Has acted ill for such a god,
To know thy kindred, and to honour mine.

And taken ways extremely ocid.
Rightly advis'd far hence thy sister scek,

“ And thou, unhappy child," she said, Or on Meander's bank, or Latinus' pcake | (Her anger by her grief allay'd)

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