THE CAMPAIGN,

A PO E M,

то

HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH,

1705.

-Rheni pacator et Iftri.

"Omnis in hoc uno variis difcordia ceffit

"Ordinibus; lætatur eques, plauditque fenator, "Votaque patricio certant plebeia favori.”

CLAUD. de Laud. Stilic.

Effe aliquam in terris gentem quæ fuâ impenfâ, fuo "labore ac periculo, bella gerat pro libertate aliorum. ` "Nec hoc finitimis, aut propinquæ vicinitatis ho"minibus, aut terris continenti junctis præftet. "Maria trajiciat: ne quod toto orbe terrarum injuftum imperium fit, et ubique jus, fas, lex, po"tentiffima fint." Liv. Hift. lib. 33.

WHI

HILE crowds of princes your deferts proclaim, Proud in their number to enrol your name; While emperors to you commit their caufe, And Anna's praises crown the vast applause; Accept, great leader, what the Mufe recites, 'That in ambitious verfe attempts your fights. Fir'd and tranfported with a theme fo new, Ten thousand wonders opening to my view

Shine forth at once; fieges and storms appear,
And wars and conquests fill th' important year:
Rivers of blood I fee, and hills of flain,
An Iliad rising out of one campaign.

The haughty Gaul beheld, with towering pride,
His ancient bounds enlarg'd on every fide;
Pyrene's lofty barriers were subdued,

And in the midst of his wide empire ftood;
Aufonia's ftates, the victor to restrain,
Oppos'd their Alps and Apennines in vain,

Nor found themselves, with ftrength of rocks immur'd,
Behind their everlasting hills fecur'd;

The rifing Danube its long race began,

And half its course through the new conquefts ran;
Amaz'd and anxious for her fovereign's fates,
Germania trembled through a hundred states ;
Great Leopold himself was feiz'd with fear;
He gaz'd around, but saw no succour near;
He gaz'd, and half-abandon'd to despair
His hopes on heaven, and confidence in prayer.
To Britain's queen the nations turn their eyes,
On her refolves the western world relies,
Confiding ftill, amidst its dire alarms,
In Anna's conncils, and in Churchill's arms.
Thrice happy Britain, from the kingdoms rent,
To fit the guardian of the continent !
That fees her bravest son advanc'd fo high,
And flourishing fo near her prince's eye;
Thy favourites grow not up by fortune's sport,
Or from the crimes or follies of a court;

On

On the firm basis of desert they rise,

From long-try'd faith, and friendship's holy tyes:
Their fovereign's well-diftinguish'd finiles they fhare,
Her ornaments in peace, her strength in war;
The nation thanks them with a public voice,
By showers of bleffings heaven approves their choice;
Envy itself is dumb, in wonder loft,

And factions ftrive who shall applaud them moft.
Soon as foft vernal breezes warm the sky,
Britannia's colours in the zephyrs fly;
Her chief already has his march begun,
Croffing the provinces himself had won,
Till the Mofelle, appearing from afar,
Retards the progress of the moving war.
Delightful stream, had nature bid her fall
In diftant climes far from the perjur'd Gaul;
But now a purchase to the sword she lies,
Her harvests for uncertain owners rife,
Each vineyard doubtful of its master grows,
And to the victor's bowl each vintage flows.
The difcontented fhades of flaughter'd hofts,
That wander'd on her banks, her heroes ghofts
Hop'd, when they faw Britannia's arms appear,
The vengeance due to their great deaths was near.
Our godlike leader, ere the stream he past,
The mighty scheme of all his labours cast,
Forming the wondrous year within his thought;
His bofom glow'd with battles yet unfought...
The long laborious march he first surveys,
And joins the diftant Danube to the Maefe,

Between whose floods fuch pathless forefts grow,
Such mountains rife, fo many rivers flow:
The toil looks lovely in the hero's eyes,
And danger ferves but to enhance the prize.
Big with the fate of Europe, he renews
His dreadful courfe, and the proud foe purfues!
Infected by the burning Scorpion's heat,
The fultry gales round his chaf'd temples beat,
Till on the borders of the Maine he finds
Defensive shadows, and refreshing winds.
Our British youth, with in-born freedom bold,
Unnumber'd fcenes of fervitude behold,
Nations of flaves, with tyranny debas'd,
(Their maker's image more than half defac'd)
Hourly instructed, as they urge their toil,
To prize their queen, and love their native foil.
Still to the rifing fun they take their way
Through clouds of duft, and gain upon the day.
When now the Neckar on its friendly coaft
With cooling ftreams revives the fainting hoft,
That chearfully his labours paft forgets,
The mid-night watches, and the noon-day heats.
O'er proftrate towns and palaces they pafs
(Now cover'd o'er with woods, and hid in grass),
Breathing revenge; whilft anger and difdain
Fire every breast, and boil in every

vein:

Here fhatter'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

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 stretch'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 troubled flood
Of mounting fpirits, 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,
Heaven dares intruft the caufe of human-kind.
Britannia's graceful fons appear in arms,
Her harrass'd troops the hero's presence warms,
Whilft the high hills and rivers all around
With thundering peals of Britifh fhouts refound :
Doubling their speed, they march with fresh delight,
Eager for glory, and require the fight.

So the stanch hound the trembling deer purfues,
And smells his footsteps in the tainted dews,
The tedious track unraveling by degrees :
But when the fcent comes warm in every breeze,
Fir'd at the near approach he fhoots away

On his full ftretch, and bears upon his prey.

The march concludes, the various realms are paft; Th' immortal Schellenberg appears at laft: