SUR LA PRISE DE NAMUR, PAR LES ARMES DU ROI, L'ANNEE 1692. PAR MONSIEUR BOILEAU DESPREAUX. QUELLE docte et sainte yvresse Dans ses chansons immortelles, Fuit loin des vulgaires yeux, Si, dans l'ardeur qui m' inspire, Tu peux suivre mes transports; Les chesnes des monts de Thrace N'ont rien oui, que n'efface La douceur de tes accords. ENGLISH BALLAD. ON THE TAKING OF NAMUR, BY THE KING OF GREAT BRITAIN, 1695*. Dulce est desipere in loco. SOME folks are drunk, yet do not know it: Or virgin of Saint Cyr, you saw? 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? Pindar, that eagle, mounts the skies, Where sordid interest shews the prey. * Namur was taken by the French in 1692, on which occasion Boileau composed his Pindaric; it was retaken by the English in 1695, when Prior executed his most happy burlesque parody. Est-ce Apollon et Neptune, Dix mille vaillans Alcides Par tout la terre y recele Un feu prest à s'élancer, Qui soudain perçant son goufre, Ouvre un sepulchre de soufre A quiconque ose avancer. Namur, devant tes murailles Jadis la Grece eust vingt ans, Sans fruit veu les funerailles De ses plus siers combattans. Quelle effroyable puissance Aujourd'hui pourtant s'avance, Preste à foudroyer tes monts? Quel bruit, quel feu l'environne? C'est Jupiter en personne; Ou c'est le vainqueur de Mons. Neptune and Sol came from above, Shap'd like Megrigny and Vauban* ; They arm'd these rocks; then show'd 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 pass'd the Boyne; Remember this, and arm the Seine. Full fifteen thousand lusty fellows, With fire and sword the fort maintain; Each was a Hercules, you tell us, Yet out they march'd like common men. Cannons above, and mines below, Did death and tombs for foes contrive; Yet matters have been order'd so, That most of us are still alive. If Namur be compar'd to Troy, Then Britain's boys excell'd the Greeks; With dreadful power, those hills to gain? And that same Jupiter no more Shall fright the world with impious thunder. Two famous engineers. † Mons surrendered to Louis XIV. April 10, 1691. N'en doute point: c'est luy-même, Plein de la frayeur nouvelle, Les peuples les plus vantés, De l' or, qui roule en ses caux; Ceux-ci des champs, où la neige Des marais de la Norvége Neuf mois couvre les roseaux. Mais qui fait enfler la Sambre ? Des froids torrens de Decembre Les champs par tout sont noyés. Cerés s'enfuit, éplorée De voir en proye à Borée |