If to the foe his dreadful course he bends,
O'er the wide continent his march extends;
If fieges in his labouring thoughts are form'd,
Camps are affaulted, and an army storm'd;
If to the fight his active foul is bent,
The fate of Europe turns on its event.
What distant land, what дegion, can afford
An action worthy his victorious sword?
Where will he next the flying Gaul defeat,
To make the series of his toils compleat?

Where the fwoln Rhine rushing with all its force
Divides the hoftile nations in its course,
While each contracts its bounds, or wider grows,
Enlarg'd or ftraiten'd as the river flows,

On Gallia's fide a mighty bulwark stands,
That all the wide-extended plain commands;
Twice, fince the war was kindled, has it try'd
The victor's rage, and twice has chang'd its fide;
As oft whole armies, with the prize o'erjoy'd,
Have the long fummer on its walls employ'd.
: Hither our mighty chief his arms directs,
Hence future triumphs from the war expects;
And though the dog-star had its course begun,
Carries his arms ftill nearer to the fun :
Fixt on the glorious action, he forgets
The change of seasons, and increase of heats;
No toils are painful that can danger show,

No climes unlovely, that contain a foe.

The roving Gaul, to his own bounds restrain'd, Learns to incamp within his native land,

But

But foon as the victorious hoft he fpies,

From hill to hill, from stream to stream he flies:
Such dire impreffions in his heart remain

Of Marlborough's sword, and Hochstet's fatal plain :
In vain Britannia's mighty chief besets
Their fhady coverts, and obfcure retreats ;
They fly the conqueror's approaching fame,
That bears the force of armies in his name.
Auftria's young monarch, whofe imperial fway
Sceptres and thrones are deftin'd to obey,
Whose boasted ancestry so high extends
That in the pagan gods his lineage ends,
Comes from afar, in gratitude to own
The great fupporter of his father's throne
What tides of glory to his bofom ran,
Clafp'd in th' embraces of the godlike man!
How were his eyes with pleasing wonder fixt
To fee fuch fire with so much sweetness mixt,
Such eafy greatness, fuch a graceful port,
So turn'd and finish'd for the camp or court!

Achilles thus was form'd with every grace,
And Nireus fhone but in the fecond place;
Thus the great father of almighty Rome
(Divinely flusht with an immortal bloom
That Cytherea's fragrant breath bestow'd)
In all the charms of his bright mother glow'd.

The royal youth by Marlborough's prefence charm'd,
Taught by his counfels, by his actions warm'd,
On Landau with redoubled fury falls,

Discharges all his thunder on its walls,

O'er mines and caves of death provokes the fight, And learns to conquer in the hero's fight.

The British chief, for mighty toils renown'd,
Increas'd' in titles, and with conquefts crown'd,
To Belgian coafts his tedious march renews,
And the long windings of the Rhine pursues,
Clearing its borders from ufurping foes,
And bleft by rescued nations as he goes.
Treves fears no more, freed from its dire alarms;
And Traerbach feels the terror of his arms:
Seated on rocks her proud foundations shake,
While Marlborough preffes to the bold attack..
Plants all his batteries, bids his cannon roar,
And shows how Landau might have fall'n before.
Scar'd at his near approach, great Louis fears
Vengeance referv'd for his declining years,
Forgets his thirst of universal fway,

And scarce can teach his fubjects to obey;
His arms he finds on vain attempts employ'd,
Th' ambitious projects for his race destroy'd,
The works of ages funk in one campaign,
And lives of millions facrific'd in vain.

Such are th' effects of Anna's royal cares :
By her, Britannia, great in foreign wars,
Ranges through nations, wherefoe'er disjoin'd,
Without the wonted aid of fea and wind.
By her th' unfetter'd Ifter's states are free,
And taste the sweets of English liberty :
But who can tell the joys of those that lie
Beneath the constant influence of her eye!

Whilft in diffufive fhowers her bounties fall

Like heaven's indulgence, and defcend on all,
Secure the happy, fuccour the distrest,

Make every subject glad, and a whole people bleft.
Thus would I fain Britannia's wars rehearse,

In the fmooth records of a faithful verfe;
That, if fuch numbers can o'er time prevail,
May tell pofterity the wondrous tale.
When actions, unadorn'd, are faint and weak,
Cities and countries must be taught to speak;
Gods may defcend in factions from the fkies,
And rivers from their oozy beds arife;
Fiction may deck the truth with spurious rays,
And round the hero caft a borrow'd blaze.
Marlborough's exploits appear divinely bright,
And proudly fhine in their own native light;
Rais'd of themselves, their genuine charms they boast,
And those who paint them truck praife them moft.

COWLEY'S EPITAPH ON HIMSELF.

FR

TRANSLATED BY MR. ADDISON.

ROM life's fuperfluous cares enlarg'd,
His debt of human toil discharg'd,

Here Cowley lies! beneath this fhed,
To every worldly intereft dead;
With decent poverty content,
His hours of ease not idly spent ;
To fortune's goods a foe profeft,

And hating wealth by all carest.

'Tis true he 's dead; for oh! how small

A spot of earth is now his all:

Oh! wish that earth may lightly lay,

And every care be far away;

Bring flowers; the short-liv'd roses bring,
To life deceas'd, fit offering:

And fweets around the poet ftrow,
Whilft yet with life his afhes glow.

POEMATA.

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