Page:Blenheim-A poem.djvu/9

The miserable Race of Men, that live
Benighted half the Year, benumm'd with Frosts
Perpetual, and rough Boreas keenest Breath,
Under the Polar Bear, inclement Sky,
When first the Sun with New-born Light removes
The long incumbent Gloom; gladly to thee
Heroic Laurel'd Eugene yeilds the Prime,
Nor thinks it Diminution, to be rankt
In Military Honour next, althô
His deadly Hand shook the Turchestan Throne
Accurs'd, and prov'd in far divided Lands
Victorious; on thy pow'rful Sword alone
Germania, and the Belgic Coast relies,
Won from th'encroaching Sea: That Sword Great ANNE
Fix'd not in vain on thy puissant Side,
When Thee Sh'enrolled Her Garter'd Eiiights among,
Illustrating the Noble List; Her Hand
Assures good Omens, and Saint George's worth
Enkindles like Desire of high Exploits.
Immediate Sieges, and the Tire of War
Rowl in thy eager Mind; thy Plumy Crest
Nods horrible, with more terrific Port
Thou walk'st, and seem'st already in the Fight.
What Spoils, what Conquests then did Albion hope