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IMITATION OF ANACREON.. LA PRISE DE NAMUR. 143 Go, mighty prince; let Prance be taught, Yet ought his sorrow to be checkt; How constant minds by grief are try'd;
Yet ought his passions to abate ; How great the land, that wept and fought,
If the great mourner would reflect, When William led, and Mary dy'd.
Her glory in her death complete. Fierce in the battle make it known,
She was instructed to command, Where Death with all his darts is seen,
Great king, by long obeying thee ; That he can touch thy heart with none,
Her sceptre, guided by thy hand, But that which struck the beauteous queen.
Preserv'd the isles, and rul'd the sea.
But oh! 'twas little, that her life Belgia indulg'd her open grief,
O'er earth and water bears thy fame: While yet her master was not ncar:
In death, 'twas worthy William's wife, With sullen pride refus'd relief,
Amidst the stars to fix his name. And sat obdurate in despair.
Beyond where matter moves, or place As waters from their sluices, flow'd
Receives its forms, thy virtues roll; Unboundled sorrow from her eyes :
From Mary's glory, angels trace To earth her bended front she bow'd,
The beauty of her partner's soul. And sent her wailings to the skies.
Wise Fate, which does its Heaven decree But when her anxious lord return'd,
To heroes, when they yield their breath, Rais’d is her head, her eyes are dry'd ;
Hastens thy triumph. Half of thee She smiles, as William ne'er had mourn's,
Is deify'd before thy death. She looks, as Mary ne'er had dy'd.
Alone to thy renown 'tis given, That freedom, which all sorrows claim,
Unbounded through all worlds to go: She does for thy content resign:
While she, great saint, rejoices Heaven;
And thou sustain'st the orb below.
Lest the great mourner should forget
IN IMITATION OF ANACREON, Made Virtue triumph over Fate.
Let them censure: what care 1? William his country's cause could fight,
The herd of critics I defy. And with his blood her freedom seal:
Let the wretches know, I write, Maurice and Henry guard that right,
Regardless of their grace or spite. For which their pious parents fell.
No, no: the fair, the gay, the young, How heroes rise, how patriots set,
Govern the numbers of my song ; Thy father's bloom and Death may tell :
All that they approve is sweet; Excelling others, these were great :
And all is sense that they repeat. Thou, greater still, must these excel.
Bid the warbling Nine retire; The last fair instance thou must give,
Venus, string thy servant's lyre: Whence Nassau's virtue can be try'd;
Love shall be my endless theme;
Pleasıire 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 !
SUR LA PRISE DE NAMOR,
PAR LES ARMES DU ROY, L'ANNEE 1692.
PAR MONSIEUR BOILBAU DESPREAUX.
Quelle docte & saint yvresse
Aujourd'hui me fait la loi?
Chastes Nymphes du Permesse,
N'est-ce pas vous que je voi?
Accourez, troupe sçavante:
Des sons que ma lyre enfante
Ces arbres sont rejoiis :
Marquez on bien la cadence:
Et vous, vents, faites silence :
Je vais parler de Louis.
Dans ses chansons immortelles,
Comme un aigle audacieux,
Pindare étendant ses aisles,
Fuit loin des vulgaires yeux
Mais, ô ma fidele lyre, Si, dans l'ardeur qui m'inspire, Tu peus suivre mes transports : Les chênes des monts de 'Thrace N'ont rien oüi, que n'efface La douceur de tes accords. Est-ce Apollon et Neptune, Qui sur ces rocs sourcilleux Ont, compagnons de Fortune, Basti ces murs orgueilleux ? De leur enceinte, fameuse La Sambre unie à la Meuse, Defend le fatal abord; Et par cens bouches horribles, L’airain sur ces monts terribles Vomit le fer, & la mort. Dix mille vaillans Alcides Les bordant de toutes parts, D' éclairs au loin homicides Font petiller leurs remparts : Et dans son sein infidele Par toute la terre y recele Un feu prêt à s'élancer, Qui soudain perçant son goufre, Ouvre un sepulchre de soufre, A quiconque ose avancer. Namur, devant tes murailles Jadis la Grece eût vingt ans Sans fruit reu les funerailles De ses plus fiers coinbattans. Quelle effroyable puissance Aujourd'hui pourtant s'avance, Prête à foudroyer tes monts? Quel bruit, quel feu l'environne? C'est Jupiter en personne; Ou c'est le vainqueur de Mons. N'en doute point: c'est lui-même, Tout brille en lui; tout est roi. Dans Bruxelles Nassau blême Commence à trembler pour toi. En vain il voit le Batâve, Desormais docile.esclave, Rangé sous ses étendarts : En vain au lion Belgique Il voit l'aigle Gerinanique Uni sous les leopards. Plein de la frayeur nouvelle, Dont ses sens sont agités, A son secours il appelle Les peuples les plus vantés. Ceux-là viennent du rivage, Où s'enorgueillit le Tage De l'or, qui roule en ses eaux; Ceux-ci des champs, où la neige Des maraz de la Norvége Neuf mois couvre les roseaux. Mais qui fait enfier la Sambre? Sous les Jumeaux effrayés, Des froids torrens de Decembre Les champs par tout sont noyés Ceres s'enfuit, éplorée De voir en proye à Borée Ses guerets d'epis chargés, Et sous les urns fangeuses Des Hyades orageuses Tous ses trésors submergés.
Déployez toutes vos rages, Princes, vents, peuples, frimats ; Ramassez tous vos nuages; Rassemblez tous vos soldats. Malgré vous Namur en poudre S'en va tomber sous la foudre Qui domta Lille, Courtray, Gand la superbe Espagnole, Saint Omer, Bežançon, Dole, Ypres, Mastricht, & Cambray. Mes présages s'accomplissent : Il commence à chanceler: Sous les coups qui retentissent Ses murs s'en vont s'écrouler. Mars en feu qui les domine, Souffle à grand bruit leur ruine, Et les bombes dans les airs Allant chercher le tonnere, Semblent tombant sur la terre, Vouloir s'ourrir les enfers. Accourez, Nassau, Baviere, De ces murs l’unique espoirs A couvert d'une riviere Venez: vous pouvez tout voir. Considerez ces approches : Voyez grimper sur ces roches Ces athletes belliqueux; Et dans les eaux, dans la flame, Louis à tout donnant l'ame, Marcher, courir avec eux. Contemplez dans la tempête, Qui sort de ces boulevards, La plume qui sur sa tête Attire tous les regards. A cet astre redoubtable Toûjours un sort favorable S'attache dans les combats : Et toûjours avec la gloire Mars amenant la victoire Vole, & le suit à grands pas. Grands defenseurs de l'Espagne, Montrez-vous: il en est tems. Courage; vers la Mahagne Voilà vos drapeaux tottans. Jamais ses ondes craintives N'ont vû sur leurs fojbles rives Tant de guerriers s'amasser Courez donc: Qui vous reti rue? Tout l'univers vous regarde. N'osez vous la traverser? Loin de fermer le passage A vos nombreux bataillons, Luxembourg a du rivage Reculé ses pavillons. Quoi ? leur seul aspect vous Où sont ces chefs pleins d'avuite, Jadis si prompts å marcher, Qui devoient de la Tamise, Et de la Drâve soûmise, Jusqu' à Paris nous chercher? Cependant l'effroi redouble Sur les reinparts de Namur. Son gouverneur qui se trouble S'enfuit sous son dernier mur. Déja jusques à ses portes Je voi monter nos cohortes,
la flame & le fer en main:
What godhead does so fast advance, Et sur les monceaux de piques,
With dreadful power, those hills to gain? De corps morts, de rocs, de briques,
'Tis little Will, the scourge of France; S'ouvrir un large cheinin.
No godhead, but the first of men.
His mortal arm exerts the power
To keep c'en Mons's victor under:
And tisat same Jupiter no inore
Shall fright the world with impious thunder.
Our king thus trembles at Namur; Ficis ennemis de la France,
Whilst Villeroy, who ne'er afraid is, Et desormais gracieux,
To Bruxelles marches on secure, Allez à Liege, à Bruxelles,
To bomb the monks, and scare the ladies. Porter les humbles nouvelles
After this glorious expedition, De Namur pris à vos yeux.
One battle makes the marshal great: He must perform tire king's commission:
Who knows but Orange may retreat?
Kings are allow'd to feign the gout,
Or be prevail'd with not to fight:
And mighty Louis hop'd, no doubt, ON TUE TAKING OF NAMUR BY THE KING OF GREAT
That William would preserve that right BRITAIN, 1695.
From Seine and Loire, to Rhone and Po, Dulee est desipere in loco.
See every mother's son appear:
In such a case ne'er hlame a foe, Some folks are drunk, yet do not know it:
If he betrays soine little fear. So might not Bacchus give you law?
He comes, the mighty Villeroy comes ; Was it a Muse, O lofty poet,
Finds a small river in his way; Or virgin of St. Cyr, you saw ?
So waves his colours, beats liis drams, Why all this fury? what's the matter,
And thinks it prudent there to stay. That oaks must come from Thrace to dance ? The Gallic troops breathe blood and war; Must stupid stocks be taught to flatter?
The marshal cares pot to march faster : And is there no such wood in France?
Poor Villeroy moves so slowly here, Why must the winds all hold their tongue?
We fancied all, it was his master. If they a little breath should raise,
Will no kind food, no friendly rain, Would that have spuild the poet's song,
Disguise the marshal's plain disgrace? Or puff d away the monarch's praise ?
No torrents swell the low Mehayne ? Pindar, that cagle, mounts the skies,
The world will say, he durst not
pass. While Virtue leads the noble way:
Why will no Hyarles appar, Too like a vulture Boileau Ries,
Dear poet, on the banks of Sambre; Where sordid Interest shows the prey.
Just as they did that mighty year, When once the poet's honour ceases,
When you turn'd June into December? From reason far his transports rove:
The water-nymphs are too unkind And Boileau, for eight hundred pieces,
To Villeroy; are the land-nymphs so? Makes Louis take the wall of Jove.
And Aly they all, at once combin'd
To shame a general, and a beau?
Truth, Justice, Sense, Religion, Pame,
May join to finish William's story:
Nations set free may bless his name;
And France in secret own his glory.
But Ypres, Mastricht, and Cambray,
Besan on, Ghent, St. Omers, Lisle,
Courtray, and Dole-Ye critics, say,
How poor to this was Pindlar's style?
With ekes and alsos tack thy strain,
Great bardd! and sing the deathless prince,
Who lost Namur the same campaign Remember this, and arm the Seine.
He bought Dixinuyd, and plunder'd Deynse. Pull fifteen thousand lusty fellows,
I'll hold ten pound my dream is out: With fire and sword, the fort maintain :
I'd tell it you, but for the rattle Each was a Hercules, you tell us ;
Of those confounded drums; no doubt Yet out they march’d, like coinmon men.
Yon bloody roçues intend a battle. Cannons above, and inines below,
Dear me! a hundred thousand French Did death and touybs for foes contrive:
With terrour fill the neighbouring Geld: Yet matters have been orderd so,
While William carries on the trench, That most of us are still alive.
Till both the town and castle yield. If Namur be compard to Troy;
Villeroy to Boufflers shold advan", Then Britain's boys excell'd the Greeks :
Says Mars, through annons' mouths in fire, Their siege did ten long years e.nplay ;
Il est, one mareschal of Frace We've dous our busjuess in ten weclis,
Tells t'other, he can come no nigher.
L VOL X.
Regain the lines the shortest way,
My softest verse, my darling lyre, Villeroy; or to Versailles take post ; .
(pon Euphelia's toilet lay; For, having seen it, thou canst say
When Cloe noted her desire,
That I should sing, that I should play.
My lyre I tune, my voice I raise,
But with my numbers mix my sighs; And bid the Devil take the slowest.
And, whilst I sing Cuphelia's praise, Think not what reason to produce,
I fix my soul on Clue's eyes. From Louis to conceal thy fear :
Fair Cloe blush'd: Euphelia frowy'd : He'll own the strength of thy excuse;
I sung, and gaz'd: I play'd, and trembled : Tell him that William was but there.
And Veuus to the Lores around
Remark’d, how ill we all disscmbled.
Wanting that influence, great in war.
PRESENTED TO THE KING,
AT HIS ARRIVAL IN HOLLAND, AFTER THE DISCOVERY To aniniate the doubtful fight,
OF THE CONSPIRACY, 1696. Namur in vain expects that ray:
Serus in cælum redeas ; diúque In rain France hopes, the sickly light
Lætus intersis populo Quirini; Should shine near William's fuller day:
Néve te nostris vitiis iniquum It knows Versailles, its proper station;
Ocyor aura Nor cares for any foreig i sphere:
Hor. ad Augustus Where you see Boileau's constellation, Be sure no danger can be near.
Ye careful angels, whom eternal Fate The French had gather'd all their force;
Ordains, on Earth and human acts to wait; And William met them in their way:
Who turn with secret power this restless ball, Yet off they brush'd, both foot and horse.
And bid predestin'd empires rise and fall: What ha friend Boileau left to say?
Your sacred aid religious monarchs own, When bis high Muse is bent upon't,
When first they merit, then ascend the throne! To sing her king--that great commander, But tyrants dread you, lest your just decree Or on the shores of Hellespont,
'Transfer the power, and set the people free. Or in the valleys near Scamander;
See rescued Britain at your altars bow; Would it not spoil his noble task,
And hear her hymns your happy care arow : If any foolish Phrygian there is,
That still her axes and her rods support Impertinent enough to ask,
The judge's frown, and grace the awful court;How far Namur may be from Paris?
That Law with all her pompous terrour stands, Two stanzas more before we end,
To wrest the dagger from the traitour's hands; Of death, pikes, rocks, arins, bricks, and fire: And rigid Justice reads the fatal word, Leave them behind you, honest friend ;
Poises the balance first, then draws the sword. And with your countrymen retire.
Britain her safety to your guidance owns, Your ode is spoilt: Namur is freed;
That she can separate parricides from sons ; For Dixmuyd something yet is due:
That, impious rage disarm’d, she lives and reigns, So good count Guiscard may proceed;
Her freedom kept by him, who broke her chains.. But Boutllers, sir, one word with you.
And thou, great minister, above the rest 'Tis done. In sight of these commanders,
Of guardian spirits, be thou for ever blest;
Thou who of old wast sent to Israel's court, Who neither fight, nor raise the siege,
With secret aid, great David's strong support, The foes of France march safe through Flanders;
To mock the frantic rage of cruel Saul,
And strike the useless javelin to the wall.
Thy later care o'er William's temples held,
On Boyne's propitious banks, the heavenly shield, As Tourville did upon the main.
When power divine did sovereign right declare;
And cannons mark'd whom they were bid to spare. Yet is the marshal made a peer: O William, may thy arms advance!
Still, blessed angel, be thy care the same!
Be William's life untouch'd as is his fame! That he may lose Dinant next year,
Let him own thine, as Britain owns his hand : And so be constable of France.
Save thou the king, as he has say'd the land!
We angels' formis in pious monarchs view;
We reverence William; for he acts like you; AN ODE.
Like you, commission'd to chastise and bless,
He must avenge the world, and give it peace. The merchant, to secure his treasure,
Indulgent Fate our potent prayer receives; Conveys it in a borrow'd name:
And still Britannia siniles, and William lives. Euphelia serves to grace my mcasure;
The hero dear to Earth, by Heaven belor'd, But Cloe is my real Name
By troubles must be vex'd, by dangers prov'd:
His foes must aid, to make his fame complete, And is it enough for the joys of the day,
To think what Anacreon or Sappho would say
TO CLOE ITEEPING.
T'hey heave thy sighs, and weep thy tears.
But that dear breast on which they fall.
TO MR. HOW’ARD.
Hence then, close Ambush and perfidious War,
Dear Howard, from the soft assaults of Love,
Poets and painters never aie secure; In brazen knots and everlasting chains,
Can I untouch'd the fair-ones passions move, (So Europe's peace, so William's fate ordains)
Or thou draw Beauty, and not feel its power ? While on the ivory chair, in happy state, To great Apolles when young Ammon brought He sits, secure in innocence, and great
The darling idol of his captive heart; In regal clemency; and views beneath
And the pleas'd nymph with kind attention sat, Averted darts of Rage, and pointless arms of Death. To have her charms recorded by his art :
The amorous master oan'd her potent eyes;
Sigh'd when he look'd, and trembled as he drew;
Each flowing line confirin'd his fi.st suip ise,
And, as the piece advanc'd, the passion grew,
While Philip's son, while Venus' son, was near, While with labour assiduous due pleasure I mix, Great was the rival, and the god severe :
What different tortures does his bosom feel! And in one day atone for the business of six, In a little Dutch chaise on a Saturday night,
Nor could he hide his flame, nor durst reveal, On my left-hand my Horace, a nymph on my | The prince, renown'd in bounty as in arins, right:
With pity saw the ill conceal'd distress; No memoirs to compose, and no post-boy to move, Quitted his title to Campaspe's charms, That on Sunday may binder the softness of lore;
And gave the fair-one to the friend's i mbrace. For her, neither visits, nor parties at tea, Nor the long-winded cant of a dull refugee.
Thus the more beauteous Cloe sat to thee, This night and the next shall be hers, shall be Good Howard, emulous of the Grecian art: To good or ill-fortune the third we resign: (mine, But happy thou, from Cupid's arrow free, Thus scorning the world and superior to fate, And fames that pierc'd thy predecessor's heart! I drive on my car in processional state.
Had thy poor breast receiv'd an equal pain; So with Phia through Athens Pisistratus rode;
Had I been vested with the monarch's power; Men thought her Minerva, and him a new god.
Thou must have sigh’d, unlucky youth, in vain ; But why should I stories of Athens rehearse,
Nor from my bounty hadst thou found a cure. Where people knew love, and were partial to verse; Since none can with justice my pleasures oppose,
Though, to convince thee that the friend did feel In Holland half drowned in interest and prose? A kind concern for thy ill-fated care, By Greece and past ages what need I be tried, I would have sooth'd the fame I could not h-al; When the Hague and the present are both on my Given thee the world; though I withheld the