11S Miscellaneous Poe ms.

No more lie holds your Pow’r in either Hand,

One to controttl the Sea, and one the Land:

Yet Sov’reign o’er the e Ifles you still remain,

And in our willing Hearts triumphant reign:

Yet still your Fleets the liquid Empire keep,

And ride Majestick o’er the boundless Deep.

Abroad your conqu’ring Troops lament your LossIn dreadful Grief, pernicious to your Foes,

Soon as the.News was to the Camp convey’d,

On Lijle s retarding Citadel employ'd,

Murm’ring they paus’d, and Tidings to inquire,

With Arms reclin’-d, and stopt their Storms of Fire;

But soon difchsrg’d their Fury on the Gauls,

And pour’d fresh Ruin on their shatter’d Walls.

M arlb’rough and Eugene still your Thunder wield,

In spite of Winter, and maintain the Field;

Always victorious, they the Foe engage,

Like Winter Tempests, with redoubled Rage;Teaching his scatter’d Troops no more to dareTo stand the sweeping Whirlwind of their War,

Fir’d with new Courage, farther we advanceOn hostile Ground, and closely press on France,Britannia's Queen, and all Britannia's Pow’rs,

Level their Bolts at Gallia's haughty Tow'rs,

More terrible in Grief: So Lightnings fly,

Redd’ning the horridGloom,whenClouds obscure theSky.

Let all your Conquests for his Death attone,

Forget Fate’s Triumphs, and improve your own.

Chiefly to you the Godlike Prince is lost ; 1

But think, Oh! think, you grieve at Europe's cost, >And least Ihould mourn him,through you lose him most. JAnd you, who near your weeping Sov’reign wait,And share the melancholy Pomp of State,

Use all your Female Tenderness, and findThe gentlest Arts to recompofe her Mind:

Nor with unskilful pious Haste increaseThe swelling Passion which you strive to ease ;

But