Each was a Hercules, you tell us, Yet out they marched like common men. Did death and tombs for foes contrive; That most of us are still alive. 5 If Namur be compared to Troy; Then Britain's boys excelled the Greeks: With dreadful power those hills to gain? To keep even Mons's victor under:1 And that same Jupiter no more Shall fright the world with impious thunder. 6 Our king thus trembles at Namur, Whilst Villeroy, who ne'er afraid is,2 To Bruxelles marches on secure, To bomb the monks and scare the ladies. One battle makes the Marshal great; Or be prevailed with not to fight: That William would preserve that right. 1 Mons surrendered to Louis XIV. 10th April, 1691.- While King William was carrying on the siege of Namur, Marshal Villeroy, in order to compel him to relinquish that design, marched to Brussels and bombarded that town. 7 From Seine and Loire, to Rhone and Po, See every mother's son appear: In such a case ne'er blame a foe, We fancied all, it was his master. 8 Will no kind flood, no friendly rain Disguise the Marshal's plain disgrace? No torrents swell the low Mehayne? The world will say, he durst not pass. Why will no Hyades appear, Dear Poet, on the banks of Sambre; Just as they did that mighty year, When you turned June into December? The water-nymphs are too unkind To Villeroy; are the land-nymphs so; And fly they all, at once combined To shame a general, and a beau? 9 Truth, Justice, Sense, Religion, Fame, May join to finish William's story; Nations set free may bless his name, And France in secret own his glory. But Ypres, Maestricht, and Cambray, Besançon, Ghent, St Omers, Lisle, Courtray, and Dole-ye critics, say, How poor to this was Pindar's style! With ekes and alsos tack thy strain, Great bard; and sing the deathless prince, He bought Dixmuyd, and plundered Deynse! 10 I'll hold ten pound my dream is out; Till both the town and castle yield. Tells t'other, he can come no nigher. 11 Regain the lines the shortest way, Villeroy, or to Versailles take post; 12 Now let us look for Louis' feather, O Poet! thou hadst been discreeter, 13 To animate the doubtful fight, Namur in vain expects that ray: 14 The French had gathered all their force, When his high Muse is bent upon 't, To sing her king—that great commander, Or on the shores of Hellespont, Or in the valleys near Scamander; If any foolish Phrygian there is How far Namur may be from Paris? 15 Two stanzas more before we end, Of death, pikes, rocks, arms, bricks, and fire; Leave them behind you, honest friend, And with your countrymen retire. For Dixmuyd something yet is due: So good Count Guiscard may proceed;1 But Boufflers, sir, one word with you: 16 'Tis done. In sight of these commanders, Who neither fight, nor raise the siege, The foes of France march safe through Flanders; Send, Fame, this news to Trianon, That Boufflers may new honours gain; O William, may thy arms advance; PRESENTED TO THE KING, AT HIS ARRIVAL IN HOLLAND, AFTER THE DISCOVERY OF THE CONSPIRACY,3 MDCXCVI. YE careful angels, whom eternal Fate Ordains, on earth and human acts to wait; When first they merit, then ascend the throne: 1 Count Guiscard was commander of the town of Namur, Marshal Boufflers of the castle there. M. de Tourville was commander of the French squadron which engaged Admiral Russell in 1692, off La Hogue. This conspiracy is generally called the Assassination Plot. Sir John Fenwick was executed for being concerned in it. See Macaulay. |