תמונות בעמוד
PDF
ePub

Her piety itself would blame,

If her regrets should waken thine.

26 To cure thy woe, she shows thy fame;

Lest the great mourner should forget,
That all the race, whence Orange came,
Made Virtue triumph over Fate.

27 William his country's cause could fight,
And with his blood her freedom seal;
Maurice and Henry guard that right,
For which their pious parents fell.

28 How heroes rise, how patriots set,
Thy father's bloom and death may tell;
Excelling others these were great,

Thou, greater still, must these excel.

29 The last fair instance thou must give,
Whence Nassau's virtue can be tried,
And show the world, that thou canst live,
Intrepid, as thy consort died.

30 Thy virtue, whose resistless force
No dire event could ever stay,
Must carry on its destined course,
Though Death and Envy stop the way.

31 For Britain's sake, for Belgia's, live;
Pierced by their grief forget thy own;
New toils endure, new conquest give;
And bring them ease, though thou hast none.

32 Vanquish again, though she be gone,

Whose garland crowned the victor's hair;

And reign, though she has left the throne,
Who made thy glory worth thy care.

33 Fair Britain never yet before

Breathed to her king a useless prayer; Fond Belgia never did implore,

While William turned averse his ear.

34 But should the weeping hero now Relentless to their wishes prove; Should he recall, with pleasing woe,

The object of his grief and love;

35 Her face with thousand beauties blest,

Her mind with thousand virtues stored, Her power with boundless joy confessed, Her person only not adored;

36 Yet ought his sorrow to be checked;
Yet ought his passions to abate;
If the great mourner would reflect,
Her glory in her death complete.

37 She was instructed to command,

Great king, by long obeying thee;
Her sceptre, guided by thy hand,
Preserved the isles, and ruled the sea.

38 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.

39 Beyond where matter moves, or place Receives its forms, thy virtues roll;

From Mary's glory, angels trace

The beauty of her partner's soul.

40 Wise Fate, which does its Heaven decree
To heroes, when they yield their breath,
Hastens thy triumph. Half of thee
Is deified before thy death.

41 Alone to thy renown 'tis given,

Unbounded through all worlds to go;
While she, great saint, rejoices Heaven;
And thou sustain'st the orb below.

IN IMITATION OF ANACREON.
LET 'em censure: what care I?
The herd of critics I defy.

Let the wretches know, I write,
Regardless of their grace, or spite.
No, no; the fair, the gay, the young
Govern the numbers of my song.
All that they approve is sweet,
And all is sense that they repeat.

Bid the warbling Nine retire;
Venus, string thy servant's lyre;
Love shall be my endless theme;
Pleasure shall triumph over Fame:
And when these maxims I decline,
Apollo, may thy fate be mine:
May I grasp at empty praise;
And lose the nymph, to gain the bays.

10

AN ODE.

1 THE merchant, to secure his treasure,
Conveys it in a borrowed name:
Euphelia serves to grace my measure;
But Cloe is my real flame.

2 My softest verse, my darling lyre,
Upon Euphelia's toilet lay;

When Cloe noted her desire,

That I should sing, that I should play.

3 My lyre I tune, my voice I raise;
But with my numbers mix my sighs:
And whilst I sing Euphelia's praise,
I fix my soul on Cloe's eyes.

4 Fair Cloe blushed: Euphelia frowned:

I sung and gazed: I played and trembled;
And Venus to the Loves around

Remarked, how ill we all dissembled.

AN ENGLISH BALLAD

ON THE TAKING OF NAMUR BY THE KING OF GREAT
BRITAIN, MDCXCV.

Dulce est desipere in loco.1

1 SOME folks are drunk, yet do not know it; So might not Bacchus give you law?

Was it a Muse, O lofty Poet,

Or virgin of St Cyr, you saw?

1 The taking of Namur by the French in the year 1692, and the retaking it by the British in the year 1695, were considered by each nation as events which contributed to raise the honour and reputation of the respective kingdoms. Both sieges were carried on by the rival monarchs in person, and the success of each was celebrated by the best writers of the times.

Why all this fury? What's the matter,

That oaks must come from Thrace to dance; Must stupid stocks be taught to flatter,

And is there no such wood in France? Why must the winds all hold their tongue? If they a little breath should raise, Would that have spoiled the Poet's song,

Or puffed away the monarch's praise?

2 Pindar, that eagle, mounts the skies: While Virtue leads the noble way: Too like a vulture Boileau flies,

Where sordid Interest shows the prey. When once the Poet's honour ceases, From reason far his transports rove; And Boileau, for eight hundred pieces, Makes Louis take the wall of Jove.

3 Neptune and Sol came from above,

Shaped like Megrigny and Vauban:1 They armed these rocks, then showed old Jove Of Marli wood the wondrous plan.

Such walls, these three wise gods agreed, By human force could ne'er be shaken; you and I in Homer read

But

Of gods, as well as men, mistaken. Sambre and Maese their waves may join;

But ne'er can William's force restrain: He'll pass them both, who passed the Boyne; Remember this and arm the Seine.

4 Full fifteen thousand lusty fellows

With fire and sword the fort maintain;
1 Two celebrated engineers.

« הקודםהמשך »