AN
ODE
,
&c.
I.
HOW
long
,
deluded
Albion
,
wilt
Thou
lie
Augustam
,
amici
,
Pauperiem
pati
Robustus
acri
Militiâ
Puer
Condiscat
,
&
Parthos
feroces
Vexet
eques
metuendus
hastâ
.
In
the
Lethargic
Sleep
,
the
sad
Repose
,
By
which
thy
close
,
thy
constant
Enemy
,
Has
softly
lull'd
Thee
to
Thy
Woes
?
Or
Wake
,
degenerate
Isle
,
or
Cease
to
own
What
Thy
Old
Kings
in
Gallic
Camps
have
done
;
The
Spoils
They
brought
Thee
back
,
the
Crowns
They
won
.
WILLIAM
,
(
so
Fate
requires
)
again
is
Arm'd
;
Thy
Father
to
the
Field
is
gone
:
Again
MARIA
Weeps
Her
absent
Lord
;
For
Thy
Repose
content
to
Rule
alone
.
Are
Thy
Enervate
Sons
not
yet
Alarm'd
?
When
WILLIAM
Fights
,
dare
they
look
tamely
on
,
So
slow
to
get
their
Ancient
Fame
Restor'd
,
As
nor
to
melt
at
Beauties
Tears
,
nor
follow
Valours
Sword
?
II
.
See
the
Repenting
Isle
Awakes
,
Her
Vicious
Chains
the
generous
Goddess
breaks
:
The
Foggs
around
Her
Temples
are
Dispell'd
;
Abroad
She
Looks
,
and
Sees
Arm'd
Belgia
stand
Prepar'd
to
meet
their
common
Lords
Command
;
Her
Lions
Roaring
by
Her
Side
,
Her
Arrows
in
Her
Hand
;
And
Blushing
to
have
been
so
long
withheld
,
Weeps
off
Her
Crime
,
and
hastens
to
the
Field
:
Vitamque
sub
Dio
&
trepidis
agat
In
rebus
.
Henceforth
Her
Youth
shall
be
inur'd
to
bear
Hazardous
Toil
and
Active
War
:
To
march
beneath
the
Dog-Stars
raging
Heat
,
Patient
of
Summers
Drought
,
and
Martial
Sweat
.
And
only
Grieve
in
Winters
Camps
to
find
,
Its
Days
too
short
for
Labours
They
design'd
:
All
Night
beneath
hard
heavy
Arms
to
Watch
;
All
Day
to
Mount
the
Trench
,
to
Storm
the
Breach
;
And
all
the
rugged
Paths
to
tread
,
Where
WILLIAM
and
His
Virtue
lead
.
III
.
Est
&
fideli
tuta
silentio
Merces
,
&c.
Silence
is
the
Soul
of
War
;
Deliberate
Counsel
must
prepare
The
Mighty
Work
,
which
Valour
must
compleat
:
Thus
WILLIAM
Rescued
,
thus
Preserves
the
State
;
Thus
Teaches
Us
to
Think
and
Dare
;
As
whilst
his
Cannon
just
prepar'd
to
Breath
Avenging
Anger
and
swift
Death
,
In
the
try'd
Mettle
the
close
Dangers
glow
,
And
now
too
late
the
Dying
Foe
Perceives
the
Flame
,
yet
cannot
ward
the
Blow
;
So
whilst
in
WILLIAM's
Breast
ripe
Counsels
lie
,
Secret
and
sure
as
Brooding
Fate
,
No
more
of
His
Design
appears
Than
what
Awakens
Gallia's
Fears
;
And
(
though
Guilts
Eye
can
sharply
penetrate
)
Distracted
Lewis
can
discry
Only
a
long
unmeasur'd
Ruine
nigh
.
IV
.
On
Norman
Coasts
and
Banks
of
frighted
Seine
,
Lo
!
the
Impending
Storms
begin
:
Britannia
safely
through
her
Masters
Sea
Plows
up
her
Victorious
Way
.
The
French
Salmoneus
throws
his
Bolts
in
vain
,
Whilst
the
true
Thunderer
asserts
the
Main
:
'Tis
done
!
to
Shelves
and
Rocks
his
Fleets
retire
,
Swift
Victory
in
Vengeful
Flames
Burns
down
the
Pride
of
their
Presumptuous
Names
:
They
run
to
Shipwrack
to
avoid
our
Fire
,
And
the
torn
Vessels
that
regain
their
Coast
Are
but
sad
Marks
to
shew
the
rest
are
lost
:
All
this
the
Mild
,
the
Beauteous
,
Queen
has
done
,
And
WILLIAM's
softer
half
shakes
Lewis'
Throne
:
MARIA
does
the
Sea
command
Whilst
Gallia
flies
her
Husband's
Arms
by
Land
,
So
,
the
Sun
absent
,
with
full
sway
,
the
Moon
Governs
the
Isles
,
and
rules
the
Waves
alone
;
So
Iuno
thunders
when
her
Iove
is
gone
.
Iö
Britannia
!
loose
thy
Oceans
Chains
Whilst
Russell
strikes
the
Blow
Thy
Queen
ordains
:
Thus
Rescued
,
thus
Rever'd
,
for
ever
stand
,
And
bless
the
Counsel
,
and
Reward
the
Hand
,
Iö
Britannia
!
thy
MARIA
Reigns
.
V.
From
MARY's
Conquests
,
and
the
Rescued
Main
,
Let
France
look
forth
to
Sambre's
armed
Shore
,
And
boast
her
Joy
for
WILLIAM's
Death
no
more
.
He
lives
,
let
France
confess
,
the
Victor
lives
:
Her
Triumphs
for
his
Death
were
vain
,
And
spoke
her
Terrour
of
his
Life
too
plain
.
—
Illum
ex
maenibus
hosticis
Matrona
bellantis
Tyranni
Prospiciens
,
&
adulta
virgo
Suspiret
,
eheu
!
ne
rudis
agminum
Sponsus
lacessat
regius
asperam
Tactu
leonem
quem
cruenta
Per
medias
rapit
ira
Caedes
.
The
mighty
years
begin
,
the
day
draws
nigh
,
In
which
That
One
of
Lewis'
many
Wives
,
Who
by
the
baleful
force
of
guilty
Charms
,
Has
long
enthraul'd
Him
in
Her
wither'd
Arms
,
Shall
o're
the
Plains
from
distant
Towers
on
high
Cast
a-round
her
mournful
Eye
,
And
with
Prophetick
Sorrow
cry
:
Why
does
my
ruin'd
Lord
retard
his
flight
?
Why
does
despair
provoke
his
Age
to
fight
?
As
well
the
Wolf
may
venture
to
engage
The
angry
Lyons
generous
rage
;
The
ravenous
Vultur
,
and
the
Bird
of
Night
,
As
safely
tempt
the
stooping
Eagles
flight
,
As
Lewis
to
unequal
Arms
defy
Yon'
Heroe
,
crown'd
with
blooming
Victory
Just
triumphing
o're
Rebel
rage
restrain'd
,
And
yet
unbreath'd
from
Battels
gain'd
.
See
!
all
yon'
dusty
Fields
quite
cover'd
o're
With
Hostil
Troops
,
and
ORANGE
at
their
Head
,
ORANGE
destin'd
to
compleat
The
great
Designs
of
labouring
Fate
,
ORANGE
the
Name
that
Tyrants
Dread
:
He
comes
,
our
ruin'd
Empire
is
no
more
,
Down
,
like
the
Persian
,
goes
the
Gallic
Throne
,
Darius
flies
,
young
Ammon
urges
on
.
VI
.
Now
from
the
dubious
Battel's
mingled
heat
Let
Fear
look
back
,
and
stretch
her
hasty
Wing
,
Dulce
&
decorum
est
pro
patriâ
mori
,
Mors
&
fugacem
prosequitur
Virum
Nec
parcit
imbellis
Iurentae
Poplitibus
timidoque
tergo
.
Impatient
to
secure
a
base
retreat
:
Let
the
pale
Coward
leave
his
Wounded
King
,
For
the
vile
privilege
to
breath
,
To
live
with
shame
in
dread
of
glorious
Death
.
In
vain
:
for
Fate
has
swifter
Wings
than
fear
,
She
follows
hard
,
and
strikes
Him
in
the
rear
,
Dying
and
Mad
the
Traytor
bites
the
ground
,
His
Back
transfix'd
with
a
Dishonest
Wound
;
Whilst
through
the
fiercest
Troops
,
and
thickest
Press
,
Virtue
carries
on
Success
;
Whilst
equal
Heaven
guards
the
distinguisht
brave
,
And
Armies
cannot
hurt
whom
Angels
save
.
VII
.
Virtue
to
Verse
immortal
Lustre
gives
,
Virtus
repulsae
nescia
sordidae
Intaminatis
fulget
honoribus
Nec
ponit
aut
sumit
secures
Arbitrio
popularis
aurae
.
Each
by
the
other's
mutual
Friendship
lives
;
Aeneas
suffer'd
,
and
Achilles
fought
,
The
Heroes
acts
enlarg'd
the
Poets
thought
,
Or
Virgil's
Majesty
,
and
Homer's
Rage
Had
ne're
like
lasting
Nature
vanquish'd
Age
;
Whilst
Lewis
then
his
rising
Terrour
drowns
With
Drums
Alarms
and
Trumpets
Sounds
,
Whilst
hid
in
arm'd
Retreats
and
guarded
Towns
,
From
Danger
as
from
Honour
far
,
He
bribes
close
Murder
against
open
War
:
In
vain
you
Gallic
Muses
strive
With
labour'd
Verse
to
keep
his
Fame
alive
,
Your
mouldring
Monuments
in
vain
ye
raise
On
the
weak
Basis
of
the
Tyrants
Praise
:
Your
Songs
are
sold
,
your
Numbers
are
Prophane
,
'Tis
Incense
to
an
Idol
given
,
Meat
offer'd
to
Prometheus'
Man
,
That
had
no
Soul
from
Heaven
.
Against
his
Will
you
chain
your
frighted
King
On
rapid
Rhine's
divided
Bed
;
And
Mock
your
Heroe
,
whilst
ye
Sing
The
Wounds
for
which
he
never
bled
;
Falshood
does
poyson
on
your
Praise
defuse
,
And
Lewis'
fear
gives
Death
to
Boileau's
Muse
.
VIII
.
On
it's
own
Worth
True
Majesty
is
rear'd
,
And
Virtue
is
her
own
Reward
,
With
solid
Beams
and
Native
Glory
bright
,
She
neither
Darkness
dreads
,
nor
covets
Light
;
True
to
Her
self
,
and
fix't
to
inborn
Laws
,
Nor
sunk
by
spight
,
nor
lifted
by
Applause
,
She
from
Her
settled
Orb
looks
calmly
down
,
On
Life
or
Death
,
a
Prison
or
a
Crown
.
When
bound
in
double
Chains
poor
Belgia
lay
To
foreign
Arms
,
and
inward
strife
a
Prey
,
Whilst
One
Good
Man
buoy'd
up
Her
sinking
State
,
And
Virtue
labour'd
against
Fate
;
When
fortune
basely
with
ambition
joyn'd
,
And
all
was
conquer'd
but
the
Patriots
mind
,
When
Storms
let
loose
,
and
raging
Seas
Just
ready
the
torn
Vessel
to
o'rewhelm
,
Forc'd
not
the
faithful
Pilot
from
his
Helm
,
Nor
all
the
Syren
Songs
of
future
Peace
,
And
dazling
Prospect
of
a
promis'd
Crown
,
Could
lure
his
stubborn
Virtue
down
;
But
against
Charms
,
and
Threats
,
and
Hell
,
He
stood
,
To
that
which
was
severely
good
;
Then
,
had
no
Trophies
justified
his
Fame
,
No
Poet
blest
his
Song
with
NASSAW's
Name
,
Virtue
alone
did
all
that
Honour
bring
,
And
Heaven
as
plainly
pointed
out
The
KING
,
As
when
He
at
the
Altar
stood
In
all
his
Types
and
Robes
of
Power
,
Whilst
at
His
Feet
Religious
Britain
bow'd
,
And
own'd
him
next
to
what
We
there
Adore
.
IX
.
Say
joyful
Maese
,
and
Boin's
Victorious
Flood
,
(
For
each
has
mixt
his
Waves
with
Royal
Blood
)
When
WILLIAM's
Armies
past
,
did
He
retire
,
Or
view
from
far
the
Battel's
distant
Fire
?
Could
He
believe
His
Person
was
too
dear
?
Or
use
His
Greatness
to
conceal
His
Fear
?
Could
Prayers
or
Sighs
the
dauntless
Heroe
move
?
Arm'd
with
Heaven's
Justice
,
and
His
People's
Love
,
Through
the
first
Waves
He
wing'd
His
Vent'rous
Way
,
And
on
the
Adverse
Shore
arose
,
(
Ten
thousand
flying
Death's
in
vain
oppose
)
Like
the
great
Ruler
of
the
Day
,
With
Strength
and
Swiftness
mounting
from
the
Seas
:
Like
Him
all
Day
He
Toil'd
,
but
long
in
Night
The
God
had
eas'd
His
wearied
light
,
'Ere
Vengeance
left
the
stubborn
Foes
,
Or
WILLIAM's
Labours
found
repose
.
When
His
Troops
falter'd
,
stept
not
He
between
,
Restor'd
the
dubious
Fight
again
,
Mark'd
out
the
Coward
that
durst
fly
,
And
led
the
fainting
Brave
to
Victory
?
Still
as
she
fled
Him
,
did
He
not
o'ertake
,
Her
doubtful
course
,
still
brought
Her
Bleeding
back
?
By
His
keen
Sword
did
not
the
Boldest
fall
?
Was
He
not
King
,
Commander
,
Souldier
,
All
—
?
His
Dangers
such
,
as
with
becoming
Dread
,
His
Subjects
yet
Un-Born
shall
Weep
to
Read
;
And
were
not
those
the
only
Days
that
ere
The
Pious
Prince
refus'd
to
hear
His
Friends
Advices
,
or
His
Subjects
Prayer
.
X.
Where
e're
old
Rhine
his
fruitful
Water
turns
,
Or
fills
his
Vassals
Tributary
Urns
;
To
Belgia's
sav'd
Dominions
,
and
the
Sea
,
Whose
righted
Waves
rejoice
in
WILLIAM's
sway
.
Is
there
a
Town
where
Children
are
not
Taught
,
Here
Holland
Prosper'd
,
for
here
ORANGE
Fought
,
Through
Rapid
Waters
,
and
through
flying
Fire
:
Here
rush'd
the
Prince
,
Here
made
whole
France
retire
.
—
By
different
Nations
be
this
Valour
blest
,
In
different
Languages
confest
,
And
then
let
Shannon
Speak
the
rest
:
Let
Shannon
Speak
,
how
on
her
wond'ring
Shore
,
When
Conquest
hov'ring
on
his
Arms
did
wait
,
And
only
ask'd
some
Lives
to
Bribe
her
o're
.
The
God-like
Man
,
the
more
than
Conqueror
,
With
high
Contempt
sent
back
the
specious
Bait
,
And
Scorning
Glory
at
a
Price
too
great
,
With
so
much
Power
such
Piety
did
joyn
,
As
made
a
Perfect
Virtue
Soar
A
Pitch
unknown
to
Man
before
,
And
lifted
Shannon's
Waves
o'er
those
of
Boyne
.
XI
.
Nor
do
his
Subjects
only
share
The
Prosp'rous
Fruits
of
His
Indulgent
Reign
;
His
Enemies
approve
the
Pious
War
,
Which
,
with
their
Weapon
,
takes
away
their
Chain
:
More
than
His
Sword
,
His
Goodness
strikes
His
Foes
;
They
Bless
His
Arms
,
and
Sigh
they
must
oppose
.
Justice
and
Freedom
on
his
Conquests
wait
,
And
'tis
for
Man's
Delight
that
He
is
Great
:
Succeeding
Times
shall
with
long
Joy
contend
,
If
He
were
more
a
Victor
,
or
a
Friend
:
So
much
His
Courage
and
His
Mercy
strive
,
He
Wounds
,
to
Cure
;
and
Conquers
,
to
Forgive
.
XII
.
Ye
Heroes
,
that
have
Fought
Your
Countries
Cause
,
Redress'd
Her
Injuries
,
or
Form'd
Her
Laws
,
To
my
Advent'rous
Song
just
Witness
bear
,
Assist
the
Pious
Muse
,
and
hear
Her
Swear
,
That
'tis
no
Poet's
Thought
,
no
Flight
of
Youth
,
But
solid
Story
,
and
severest
Truth
,
That
WILLIAM
Treasures
up
a
greater
Name
,
Than
any
Country
,
any
Age
,
can
Boast
:
Virtus
recludens
immeritis
Mori
Coelum
,
negatâ
tentat
iter
viâ
Coetusque
vulgares
&
udam
Spernit
humum
fugiente
pennâ
.
And
all
that
Ancient
Stock
of
Fame
He
did
from
His
Fore-Fathers
take
,
He
has
improv'd
,
and
gives
with
Interest
back
;
And
in
His
Constellation
does
unite
Their
scatter'd
Rays
of
Fainter
Light
:
Above
or
Envy's
lash
,
or
Fortunes
Wheel
,
That
settled
Glory
shall
for
ever
dwell
Above
the
Rowling
Orbs
,
and
common
Sky
,
Where
nothing
comes
that
e're
shall
Die
.
XIII
.
Where
Roves
the
Muse
?
Where
thoughtless
to
return
Is
her
short
liv'd
Vessel
Born
,
By
Potent
Winds
too
subject
to
be
tost
?
And
in
the
Sea
of
WILLIAM's
Praises
lost
?
Nor
let
her
tempt
that
Deep
,
nor
make
the
Shore
Where
our
abandon'd
Youth
She
sees
Shipwrackt
in
Luxury
,
and
lost
in
Ease
;
Whom
nor
Britannia's
Danger
can
alarm
,
Nor
WILLIAM's
Exemplary
Virtue
warm
:
Tell
'em
howe'er
the
King
can
yet
Forgive
Their
Guilty
Sloath
,
their
Homage
yet
Receive
,
And
let
their
wounded
Honour
live
:
But
sure
and
sudden
be
their
just
Remorse
;
Swift
be
their
Virtues
rise
,
and
strong
its
Course
;
—
Saepe
Diespiter
Neglectus
incesto
addidit
Integrum
Rario
antecedentem
Scelestum
Deseruit
Pede
poena
Claudo
.
For
though
for
certain
Years
and
destin'd
Times
,
Merit
has
lain
confus'd
with
Crimes
;
Though
Iove
seem'd
Negligent
of
human
Cares
,
Nor
Scourg'd
our
Follies
,
nor
return'd
our
Prayers
.
His
Justice
now
Demands
the
equal
Scales
,
Sedition
is
Supprest
,
and
Truth
Prevails
:
Fate
it's
great
Ends
by
slow
Degrees
Attains
,
And
Europe
is
Redeem'd
,
and
WILLIAM
Reigns
.
FINIS
.