139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,001[A ]| When great Augustus govern'd Antient Rome, 139:13,002[A ]| And sent his Conqu'ring Bands to Foreign Wars; 139:13,003[A ]| Abroad when Dreaded, and Belov'd at Home, 139:13,004[A ]| He saw his Fame encreasing with his Years; 139:13,005[A ]| Horace, Great Bard (so Fate ordain'd) arose; 139:13,006[A ]| And Bold, as were his Countrymen in Fight, 139:13,007[A ]| Snatch'd their fair Actions from degrading Prose, 139:13,008[A ]| And set their Battels in Eternal Light: 139:13,009[A ]| High as their Trumpets Tune his Lyre he strung; 139:13,010[A ]| And with his Prince's Arms He moraliz'd his Song. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,011[A ]| When bright Eliza rul'd Britannia's State, 139:13,012[A ]| Widely distributing her high Commands; 139:13,013[A ]| Freed the glad Nations from Tyrannic Bands; 139:13,014[A ]| And boldly Wise, and fortunately Great, 139:13,015[A ]| An equal Genius in Spenser found: 139:13,016[A ]| To the high Theme he match'd his Noble Lays: 139:13,017[A ]| He travell'd England o'er on Fairy Ground, 139:13,018[A ]| In Mystic Notes to Sing his Monarch's Praise: 139:13,019[A ]| Reciting wond'rous Truths in pleasing Dreams, 139:13,020[A ]| He deck'd Eliza's Head with Gloriana's Beams. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,021[A ]| But, greater Anna! while Thy Arms pursue 139:13,022[A ]| Paths of Renown, and climb Ascents of Fame, 139:13,023[A ]| Which nor Augustus, nor Eliza knew; 139:13,024[A ]| What Poet shall be found to sing Thy Name? 139:13,025[A ]| What Numbers shall record, what Tongue shall say 139:13,026[A ]| Thy Wars on Land, Thy Triumphs on the Main? 139:13,027[A ]| O Fairest Model of Imperial Sway! 139:13,028[A ]| What Equal Pen shall write Thy wond'rous Reign? 139:13,029[A ]| Who shall Attempts and Feats of Arms rehearse, 139:13,030[A ]| Not yet by Story told, nor parallel'd by Verse? 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,031[A ]| Me all too mean for such a Task I weet; 139:13,032[A ]| Yet if the Sovereign Lady deigns to Smile, 139:13,033[A ]| I'll follow Horace with Impetuous Heat, 139:13,034[A ]| And cloath the Verse in Spenser's Native Style. 139:13,035[A ]| By these Examples rightly taught to sing, 139:13,036[A ]| And smit with Pleasure of my Country's Praise, 139:13,037[A ]| Stretching the Plumes of an uncommon Wing, 139:13,038[A ]| High as Olympus I my Flight will raise: 139:13,039[A ]| And latest Times shall in my Numbers read 139:13,040[A ]| Anna's Immortal Fame, and Marlbro's hardy Deed. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,041[A ]| As the strong Eagle in the silent Wood, 139:13,042[A ]| Mindless of warlike Rage, and hostile Care, 139:13,043[A ]| Plays round the rocky Cliff, or crystal Flood ; 139:13,044[A ]| 'Till by Jove's high Behests call'd out to War, 139:13,045[A ]| And charg'd with Thunder of his angry King, 139:13,046[A ]| His Bosom with the vengeful Message glows: 139:13,047[A ]| Upward the Noble Bird directs his Wing; 139:13,048[A ]| And tow'ring round his Master's Earth-born Foes, 139:13,049[A ]| Swift he collects his fatal Stock of Ire; 139:13,050[A ]| Lifts his fierce Talons high, and darts the forked Fire. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,051[A ]| Sedate and calm thus Victor Marlbro sate, 139:13,052[A ]| Shaded with Laurels, in his Native Land; 139:13,053[A ]| 'Till Anna calls Him from his soft Retreat, 139:13,054[A ]| And gives her Second Thunder to his Hand. 139:13,055[A ]| Then leaving sweet Repose, and gentle Ease, 139:13,056[A ]| With ardent Speed He seeks the distant Foe: 139:13,057[A ]| Marching o'er Hills and Vales, o'er Rocks and Seas, 139:13,058[A ]| He meditates, and strikes the wond'rous Blow. 139:13,059[A ]| Our Thought flies slower than Our General's Fame: 139:13,060[A ]| Grasps He the Bolt (We ask) when he has hurl'd the Flame. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,061[A ]| When fierce Bavar on Judoign's spacious Plain 139:13,062[A ]| Did from afar the British Chief behold; 139:13,063[A ]| Betwixt Despair, and Rage, and Hope, and Pain, 139:13,064[A ]| Something within his warring Bosom roll'd: 139:13,065[A ]| He views that Fav'rite of Indulgent Fame, 139:13,066[A ]| Whom whilom He had met on Ister's Shoar: 139:13,067[A ]| Too well, alas! the Man He knows the same, 139:13,068[A ]| Whose Prowess there repell'd the Boyan Pow'r; 139:13,069[A ]| And sent them trembling thro' the frighted Lands, 139:13,070[A ]| Swift as the Whirlwind drives Arabia's scatter'd Sands. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,071[A ]| His former Losses He forgets to grieve; 139:13,072[A ]| Absolves his Fate, if with a kinder Ray 139:13,073[A ]| It now would shine, and only give Him leave 139:13,074[A ]| To balance the account of Blenheim's Day. 139:13,075[A ]| So the fell Lion in the lonely Glade, 139:13,076[A ]| His Side still smarting with the Hunter's Spear, 139:13,077[A ]| Tho' deeply wounded, no way yet dismay'd, 139:13,078[A ]| Roars terrible, and meditates new War; 139:13,079[A ]| In sullen Fury traverses the Plain, 139:13,080[A ]| To find the vent'rous Foe, and Battel Him again. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,081[A ]| Misguided Prince! no longer urge Thy Fate, 139:13,082[A ]| Nor tempt the Hero to unequal War; 139:13,083[A ]| Fam'd in Misfortune, and in Ruin Great, 139:13,084[A ]| Confess the Force of Marlbro's stronger Star. 139:13,085[A ]| Those Laurel Groves (the Merits of thy Youth) 139:13,086[A ]| Which Thou from Mahomet didst greatly gain, 139:13,087[A ]| While bold Assertor of resistless Truth, 139:13,088[A ]| Thy Sword did Godlike Liberty maintain, 139:13,089[A ]| Must from thy Brow their falling Honors shed; 139:13,090[A ]| And their transplanted Wreaths must deck a worthier Head. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,091[A ]| Yet cease the Ways of Providence to blame, 139:13,092[A ]| And Human Faults with Human Grief confess: 139:13,093[A ]| 'Tis Thou art chang'd; while Heav'n is still the same: 139:13,094[A ]| From thy ill Councils date Thy ill Success. 139:13,095[A ]| Impartial Justice holds her equal Scales; 139:13,096[A ]| 'Till stronger Virtue does the Weight incline: 139:13,097[A ]| If over Thee thy glorious Foe prevails; 139:13,098[A ]| He now Defends the Cause, that once was Thine. 139:13,099[A ]| Righteous the War, the Champion shall subdue; 139:13,100[A ]| For Jove's great Handmaid Power, must Jove's Decrees pursue. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,101[A ]| Hark! The dire Trumpets sound their shrill Alarms: 139:13,102[A ]| Auverquerque, branch'd from the renown'd Nassaws, 139:13,103[A ]| Hoary in War, and bent beneath his Arms, 139:13,104[A ]| His Glorious Sword with Dauntless Courage draws. 139:13,105[A ]| When anxious Britain mourn'd her parting Lord, 139:13,106[A ]| And all of William that was Mortal Dy'd; 139:13,107[A ]| The faithful Hero had receiv'd This Sword 139:13,108[A ]| From his expiring Master's much-lov'd Side. 139:13,109[A ]| Oft from it's fatal Ire has Louis flown, 139:13,110[A ]| Where-e'er Great William led, or Maese and Sambre run. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,111[A ]| But brandish'd high, in an ill-omen'd Hour 139:13,112[A ]| To Thee, proud Gaul, behold thy justest Fear, 139:13,113[A ]| The Master Sword, Disposer of thy Power: 139:13,114[A ]| 'Tis that which Caesar gave the British Peer. 139:13,115[A ]| He took the Gift: 139:13,115@b | Nor ever will I sheath 139:13,116@b | This Steel, (so Anna's high Behests ordain) 139:13,117[A ]| The General said, 139:13,117@b | unless by Glorious Death 139:13,118@b | Absolv'd, 'till Conquest has confirm'd Your Reign. 139:13,119@b | Returns like these Our Mistress bids us make, 139:13,120@b | When from a Foreign Prince a Gift Her Britons take. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,121[A ]| And now fierce Gallia rushes on her Foes, 139:13,122[A ]| Her Force augmented by the Boyan Bands: 139:13,123[A ]| So Volga's Stream, increas'd by Mountain Snows, 139:13,124[A ]| Rolls with new Fury down thro' Russia's Lands. 139:13,125[A ]| Like two great Rocks against the raging Tide, 139:13,126[A ]| (If Virtue's Force with Nature's We compare) 139:13,127[A ]| Unmov'd the Two united Chiefs abide, 139:13,128[A ]| Sustain the Impulse, and receive the War. 139:13,129[A ]| Round their firm Sides in vain the Tempest beats; 139:13,130[A ]| And still the foaming Wave with lessen'd Pow'r retreats. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,131[A ]| The Rage dispers'd, the Glorious Pair advance, 139:13,132[A ]| With mingl'd Anger, and collected Might, 139:13,133[A ]| To turn the War, and tell aggressing France, 139:13,134[A ]| How Britain's Sons and Britain's Friends can fight. 139:13,135[A ]| On Conquest fix'd, and covetous of Fame, 139:13,136[A ]| Behold Them rushing thro' the Gallic Host. 139:13,137[A ]| Thro' standing Corn so runs the sudden Flame, 139:13,138[A ]| On Eastern Winds along Sicilia's Coast. 139:13,139[A ]| They deal their Terrors to the adverse Nation: 139:13,140[A ]| Pale Death attends their Arms, and ghastly Desolation. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,141[A ]| But while with fiercest Ire Bellona glows, 139:13,142[A ]| And Europe rather Hopes than Fears Her Fate; 139:13,143[A ]| While Britain presses Her afflicted Foes; 139:13,144[A ]| What Horror damps the Strong, and quells the Great? 139:13,145[A ]| Whence look the Soldiers Cheeks dismay'd and pale? 139:13,146[A ]| Erst ever dreadful, know They now to dread? 139:13,147[A ]| The Hostile Troops, I ween, almost prevail; 139:13,148[A ]| And the Pursuers only not recede. 139:13,149[A ]| Alas! their lessen'd Rage proclaims their Grief! 139:13,150[A ]| For anxious, lo! They croud around their falling Chief! 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,151@d | I thank Thee, Fate, 139:13,151[A ]| exclaims the fierce Bavar; 139:13,152@d | Let Boya's Trumpet grateful Io's sound: 139:13,153@d | I saw Him fall, their Thunderbolt of War: ~~ 139:13,154@d | Ever to Vengeance sacred be the Ground ~~ 139:13,155[A ]| Vain Wish! short Joy! the Hero mounts again 139:13,156[A ]| In greater Glory, and with fuller Light: 139:13,157[A ]| The Ev'ning Star so falls into the Main, 139:13,158[A ]| To rise at Morn more prevalently bright. 139:13,159[A ]| He rises safe: but near, too near his Side, 139:13,160[A ]| A good Man's grievous Loss, a faithful Servant dy'd. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,161[A ]| Propitious Mars! the Battel is regain'd: 139:13,162[A ]| The Foe with lessen'd Wrath disputes the Field: 139:13,163[A ]| The Briton fights, by fav'ring Gods sustain'd: 139:13,164[A ]| Freedom must live; and lawless Power must yield. 139:13,165[A ]| Vain now the Tales which fab'ling Poets tell, 139:13,166[A ]| That wav'ring Conquest still desires to rove! 139:13,167[A ]| In Marlbro's Camp the Goddess knows to dwell: 139:13,168[A ]| Long as the Hero's Life remains her Love. 139:13,169[A ]| Again France flies: again the Duke pursues: 139:13,170[A ]| And on Ramillia's Plains He Blenheim's Fame renews. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,171[A ]| Great Thanks, O Captain great in Arms! receive 139:13,172[A ]| From thy Triumphant Country's public Voice: 139:13,173[A ]| Thy Country greater Thanks can only give 139:13,174[A ]| To Anne, to Her who made those Arms Her Choice. 139:13,175[A ]| Recording Schellenberg's and Blenheim's Toils, 139:13,176[A ]| We dreaded lest Thou should'st those Toils repeat: 139:13,177[A ]| We view'd the Palace charg'd with Gallic Spoils; 139:13,178[A ]| And in those Spoils We thought thy Praise compleat: 139:13,179[A ]| For never Greek, We deem'd, nor Roman Knight, 139:13,180[A ]| In Characters like these did e'er his Acts indite. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,181[A ]| Yet mindless still of Ease, Thy Virtue flies 139:13,182[A ]| A Pitch to Old and Modern Times unknown: 139:13,183[A ]| Those goodly Deeds which We so highly prize, 139:13,184[A ]| Imperfect seem, great Chief, to Thee alone. 139:13,185[A ]| Those Heights, where William's Virtue might have staid, 139:13,186[A ]| And on the Subject world look'd safely down, 139:13,187[A ]| By Marlbro pass'd, the Props and Steps were made, 139:13,188[A ]| Sublimer yet to raise his Queen's Renown: 139:13,189[A ]| Still gaining more, still slighting what He gain'd, 139:13,190[A ]| Nought done the Hero deem'd, while ought undone remain'd. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,191[A ]| When swift-wing'd Rumor told the mighty Gaul, 139:13,192[A ]| How lessen'd from the Field Bavar was fled; 139:13,193[A ]| He wept the Swiftness of the Champion's Fall; 139:13,194[A ]| And thus the Royal Treaty-Breaker said: 139:13,195@c | And lives he yet, the Great, the Lost Bavar, 139:13,196@c | Ruin to Gallia, in the Name of Friend? 139:13,197@c | Tell Me, how far has Fortune been severe? 139:13,198@c | Has the Foe's Glory, or our Grief an End? 139:13,199@c | Remains there, of the Fifty Thousand lost, 139:13,200@c | To save our threaten'd Realm, or guard our shatter'd Coast? 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,201@c | To the close rock the frighted Raven flies, 139:13,202@c | Soon as the rising Eagle cuts the Air: 139:13,203@c | The shaggy Wolf unseen and trembling lyes, 139:13,204@c | When the hoarse Roar proclaims the Lion near. 139:13,205@c | Ill-starr'd did We our Forts and Lines forsake, 139:13,206@c | To dare our British Foes to open Fight: 139:13,207@c | Our Conquest We by Stratagem should make: 139:13,208@c | Our Triumph had been founded in our Flight. 139:13,209@c | 'Tis Our's, by Craft and by Surprize to gain: 139:13,210@c | 'Tis Their's, to meet in Arms, and Battel in the Plain. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,211@c | The ancient Father of this Hostile Brood, 139:13,212@c | Their boasted Brute, undaunted snatch'd his Gods 139:13,213@c | From burning Troy, and Xanthus red with Blood, 139:13,214@c | And fix'd on Silver Thames his dire Abodes; 139:13,215@c | And this be Troynovante, He said, the Seat 139:13,216@c | By Heav'n ordain'd, My Sons, Your lasting Place: 139:13,217@c | Superior here to all the Bolts of Fate 139:13,218@c | Live, mindful of the Author of your Race, 139:13,219@c | Whom neither Greece, nor War, nor Want, nor Flame, 139:13,220@c | Nor Great Peleides' Arm, nor Juno's Rage could Tame. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,221@c | Their Tudor's hence, and Stuart's Off-spring flow: 139:13,222@c | Hence Edward, dreadful with his Sable Shield, 139:13,223@c | Talbot, to Gallia's Pow'r Eternal Foe, 139:13,224@c | And Seymour, fam'd in Council, or in Field: 139:13,225@c | Hence Nevill, Great to Settle or Dethrone, 139:13,226@c | And Drake, and Ca'ndish, Terrors of the Sea: 139:13,227@c | Hence Butler's Sons, o'er Land and Ocean known, 139:13,228@c | Herbert's, and Churchill's Warring Progeny: 139:13,229@c | Hence the long roll which Gallia should conceal: 139:13,230@c | For, oh! Who vanquish'd, loves the Victor's Fame to tell? 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,232@c | Envy'd Britannia, sturdy as the Oak, 139:13,232@c | Which on her Mountain-Top She proudly bears, 139:13,233@c | Eludes the Ax, and sprouts against the Stroke; 139:13,234@c | Strong from her Wounds, and greater by her Wars. 139:13,235@c | And as those Teeth, which Cadmus sow'd in Earth, 139:13,236@c | Produc'd new Youth, and furnish'd fresh Supplies: 139:13,237@c | So with young Vigor, and succeeding Birth, 139:13,238@c | Her Losses more than recompens'd arise; 139:13,239@c | And ev'ry Age She with a Race is Crown'd, 139:13,240@c | For Letters more Polite, in Battels more Renown'd. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,241@c | Obstinate Pow'r, whom Nothing can repel; 139:13,242@c | Not the fierce Saxon, nor the cruel Dane, 139:13,243@c | Nor deep Impression of the Norman Steel, 139:13,244@c | Nor Europe's Force amass'd by envious Spain, 139:13,245@c | Nor France on universal Sway intent, 139:13,246@c | Oft breaking Leagues, and oft renewing Wars, 139:13,247@c | Nor (frequent Bane of weaken'd Government) 139:13,248@c | Their own intestine Feuds, and mutual Jars; 139:13,249@c | Those Feuds and Jars, in which I trusted more 139:13,250@c | Than in my Troops, and Fleets, and all the Gallic Pow'r. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,251@c | To fruitful Rheims, or fair Lutetia's Gate 139:13,252@c | What Tidings shall the Messenger convey? 139:13,253@c | Shall the loud Herald our Success relate, 139:13,254@c | Or mitred Priest appoint the Solemn Day? 139:13,255@c | Alas! my Praises They no more must Sing; 139:13,256@c | They to my Statue now must Bow no more: 139:13,257@c | Broken, repuls'd is their Immortal King: 139:13,258@c | Fall'n, fall'n for ever is the Gallic Pow'r `` 139:13,259@c | The Woman Chief is Master of the War: 139:13,260@c | Earth She has freed by Arms, and vanquish'd Heav'n by Pray'r. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,261[A ]| While thus the ruin'd Foe's Despair commends 139:13,262[A ]| Thy Council and Thy Deed, Victorious Queen, 139:13,263[A ]| What shall Thy Subjects say, and what Thy Friends? 139:13,264[A ]| How shall Thy Triumphs in Our Joy be seen? 139:13,265[A ]| Oh! deign to let the Eldest of the nine 139:13,266[A ]| Recite Britannia Great, and Gallia Free: 139:13,267[A ]| Oh! with her Sister Sculpture let her join 139:13,268[A ]| To raise, Great Anne, the Monument to Thee; 139:13,269[A ]| To Thee, of all our Good the Sacred Spring; 139:13,270[A ]| To Thee, our dearest Dread; to Thee, our softer King. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,271[A ]| Let Europe sav'd the Column high erect, 139:13,272[A ]| Than Trajan's higher, or than Antonine's; 139:13,273[A ]| Where sembling Art may carve the fair Effect, 139:13,274[A ]| And full Atchievement of Thy great Designs. 139:13,275[A ]| In a calm Heav'n, and a serener Air, 139:13,276[A ]| Sublime the Queen shall on the Summit stand, 139:13,277[A ]| From Danger far, as far remov'd from Fear, 139:13,278[A ]| And pointing down to Earth Her dread Command. 139:13,279[A ]| All Winds, all Storms that threaten Human Woe, 139:13,280[A ]| Shall sink beneath Her Feet, and spread their Rage below. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,281[A ]| There Fleets shall strive by Winds and Waters tost; 139:13,282[A ]| 'Till the young Austrian on Iberia's Strand, 139:13,283[A ]| Great as Aeneas on the Latian Coast, 139:13,284[A ]| Shall fix his Foot: and 139:13,115@e | This, be This the Land, 139:13,285@e | Great Jove, where I for ever will remain 139:13,286[A ]| (The Empire's other Hope shall say) 139:13,115@e | and here 139:13,287@e | Vanquish'd, Intomb'd I'll lye, or Crown'd I'll Reign ~~ 139:13,288[A ]| O Virtue, to thy British Mother dear! 139:13,289[A ]| Like the fam'd Trojan suffer and abide; 139:13,290[A ]| For Anne is Thine, I ween, as Venus was His Guide. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,291[A ]| There, in Eternal Characters engrav'd, 139:13,292[A ]| Vigo, and Gibraltar, and Barcelone, 139:13,293[A ]| Their Force destroy'd, their Privileges sav'd, 139:13,294[A ]| Shall Anna's Terrors, and Her Mercies own: 139:13,295[A ]| Spain from th' Usurper Bourbon's Arms retriev'd. 139:13,296[A ]| Shall with new Life and grateful Joy appear, 139:13,297[A ]| Numb'ring the Wonders which that Youth atchiev'd, 139:13,298[A ]| Whom Anna clad in Arms, and sent to War; 139:13,299[A ]| Whom Anna sent to claim Iberia's Throne; 139:13,300[A ]| And made Him more than King, in calling Him Her Son. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,301[A ]| There Ister pleas'd, by Blenheim's glorious Field 139:13,302[A ]| Rolling, shall bid his Eastern Waves declare 139:13,303[A ]| Germania sav'd by Britain's ample Shield,, 139:13,304[A ]| And bleeding Gaul afflicted by her Spear:; 139:13,305[A ]| Shall bid them mention Marlbro, on that Shore 139:13,306[A ]| Leading his Islanders, renown'd in Arms, 139:13,307[A ]| Thro' Climes, where never British Chief before 139:13,308[A ]| Or pitch'd his Camp, or sounded his Alarms: 139:13,309[A ]| Shall bid Them bless the Queen, who made his Streams 139:13,310[A ]| Glorious as those of Boyn, and safe as those of Thames. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,311[A ]| Brabantia, clad with Fields, and crown'd with Tow'rs 139:13,312[A ]| With decent Joy shall her Deliv'rer meet; 139:13,313[A ]| Shall own Thy Arms, Great Queen, and bless Thy Pow'rs, 139:13,314[A ]| Laying the Keys beneath Thy Subject's Feet. 139:13,315[A ]| Flandria, by Plenty made the Home of War, 139:13,316[A ]| Shall weep her Crime, and bow to Charles restor'd; 139:13,317[A ]| With double Vows shall bless Thy happy Care, 139:13,318[A ]| In having drawn, and having sheath'd the Sword. 139:13,319[A ]| From these their Sister Provinces shall know 139:13,320[A ]| How Anne supports a Friend, and how forgives a Foe. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,321[A ]| Bright Swords, and crested Helms, and pointed Spears 139:13,322[A ]| In artful Piles around the Work shall lye; 139:13,323[A ]| And Shields indented deep in ancient Wars, 139:13,324[A ]| Blazon'd with Signs of Gallic Heraldry; 139:13,325[A ]| And Standards with distinguish'd Honors bright, 139:13,326[A ]| Marks of high Pow'r and National Command, 139:13,327[A ]| Which Valois' Sons, and Bourbon's bore in Fight, 139:13,328[A ]| Or gave to Foix', or Montmorency's Hand: 139:13,329[A ]| Great Spoils, which Gallia must to Britain yield, 139:13,330[A ]| From Cressy's Battel sav'd, to grace Ramillia's Field. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,331[A ]| And as fine Art the Spaces may dispose, 139:13,332[A ]| The knowing Thought and curious Eye shall see 139:13,333[A ]| Thy Emblem, Gracious Queen, the British Rose, 139:13,334[A ]| Type of sweet Rule, and gentle Majesty: 139:13,335[A ]| The Northern Thistle, whom no Hostile Hand 139:13,336[A ]| Unhurt too rudely may provoke, I ween; 139:13,337[A ]| Hibernia's Harp, Device of Her Command, 139:13,338[A ]| And Parent of Her Mirth, shall there be seen: 139:13,339[A ]| Thy vanquish'd Lillies, France, decay'd and torn, 139:13,340[A ]| Shall with disorder'd Pomp the lasting Work adorn. 139:13,000[' ]| 139:13,341[A ]| Beneath, Great Queen, oh! very far beneath, 139:13,342[A ]| Near to the Ground, and on the humble Base, 139:13,343[A ]| To save Her self from Darkness, and from Death, 139:13,344[A ]| That Muse desires the last, the lowest place; 139:13,345[A ]| Who tho' unmeet, yet touch'd the trembling String; 139:13,346[A ]| For the fair Fame of Anne and Albion's Land, 139:13,347[A ]| Who durst of War and Martial Fury Sing: 139:13,348[A ]| And when Thy Will, and when Thy Subject's Hand 139:13,349[A ]| Had quell'd those Wars, and bid that Fury cease; 139:13,350[A ]| Hangs up her grateful Harp to Conquest, and to Peace.