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Thine Only Son pierc'd with a Deadly Wound,
Choak'd in his Blood, and gasping on the Ground,
Thy self in Bondage by the Victor kept!
The Chief, the Father, and the Captive wept.
An English Muse is touch'd with gen'rous Woe,
And in th'unhappy Man forgets the Foe.
Greatly Distress'd! thy loud Complaints forbear,
Blame not the Turns of Fate, and Chance of War;
Give thy Brave Foes their Due, nor blush to own,
The fatal Field by such great Leaders won,
The Field whence fam'd Eugenio bore away
Only the Second Honours of the Day.
Choak'd in his Blood, and gasping on the Ground,
Thy self in Bondage by the Victor kept!
The Chief, the Father, and the Captive wept.
An English Muse is touch'd with gen'rous Woe,
And in th'unhappy Man forgets the Foe.
Greatly Distress'd! thy loud Complaints forbear,
Blame not the Turns of Fate, and Chance of War;
Give thy Brave Foes their Due, nor blush to own,
The fatal Field by such great Leaders won,
The Field whence fam'd Eugenio bore away
Only the Second Honours of the Day.
With Floods of Gore that from the Vanquish'd fell,
The Marshes stagnate, and the Rivers swell.
Mountains of Slain lye heap'd upon the Ground,
Or 'midst the Roarings of the Danube drown'd;
Whole Captive Hosts the Conqueror detains
In painful Bondage, and inglorious Chains;
Ev'n those who 'scape the Fetters and the Sword,
Nor seek the Fortunes of a happier Lord,
Their raging King dishonours, to compleat
MARLBRO's Great Work, and finish the Defeat.
The Marshes stagnate, and the Rivers swell.
Mountains of Slain lye heap'd upon the Ground,
Or 'midst the Roarings of the Danube drown'd;
Whole Captive Hosts the Conqueror detains
In painful Bondage, and inglorious Chains;
Ev'n those who 'scape the Fetters and the Sword,
Nor seek the Fortunes of a happier Lord,
Their raging King dishonours, to compleat
MARLBRO's Great Work, and finish the Defeat.
From Memminghen's high Domes, and Ausburgh's Walls,
The distant Battle drives th' insulting Gauls;
Free'd by the Terror of the Victor's Name,
The rescu'd States his great Protection claim;
Whilst Ulme th' Approach of her Deliv'rer waits,
And longs to open her obsequious Gates.
The distant Battle drives th' insulting Gauls;
Free'd by the Terror of the Victor's Name,
The rescu'd States his great Protection claim;
Whilst Ulme th' Approach of her Deliv'rer waits,
And longs to open her obsequious Gates.
The Heroe's Breast still swells with great Designs,
In ev'ry Thought the tow'ring Genius shines:
If to the Foe his dreadful Course he bends,
O'er the wide Continent his March extends;
If Sieges in his lab'ring Thoughts are form'd,
Camps are assaulted, and an Army storm'd:
If to the Fight his active Soul is bent,
The Fate of Europe turns on its Event.
In ev'ry Thought the tow'ring Genius shines:
If to the Foe his dreadful Course he bends,
O'er the wide Continent his March extends;
If Sieges in his lab'ring Thoughts are form'd,
Camps are assaulted, and an Army storm'd:
If to the Fight his active Soul is bent,
The Fate of Europe turns on its Event.
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