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Of Drums and Clarions other Realms annoys.
Th'Iberian Scepter undecided, here
Engages mighty Hosts in wasteful Strife;
From diff'rent Climes the Flow'r of Youth descends
Down to the Lusitanian Vales, resolv'd
With utmost Hazard to Enthrone their Prince,
Gallic, or Austrian; Havoc dire ensues,
And wild Uproar: The Natives, dubious whom
They must Obey, in Consternation wait,
'Till rigid Conquest will pronounce their Liege.
Nor is the Brazen Voice of War unheard
On the mild Latian Shore; what Sighs and Tears
Hath Eugene caus'd! How many Widows curse
His cleaving Faulchion! Fertile Soil in vain!
What do thy Pastures, or thy Vines avail,
Best Boon of Heav'n! or huge Taburnus, cloath'd
With Olives, when the Cruel Battel mows
The Planters, with their Harvest immature?
See, with what Outrage from the frosty North,
The early Valiant Swede draws forth his Wings
In Battailous Array, while Volga's Stream
Sends Opposite, in shaggy Armor clad,
Her Borderers; on mutual Slaughter bent,
They rend their Countries. How is Poland vext