Page:The Campaign - Addison (1710).djvu/5

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Hop'd, when they saw Britannia's Arms appear,
The Vengeance due to their great Deaths was near.

Our God-like Leader, e'er the Stream he past,
The mighty Scheme of all his Labours cast,
Forming the Wond'rous Year within his Thought;
His Bosom glow'd with Battles yet unfought:
The long laborious March he first surveys,
And joins the distant Danube to the Maese,
Between whose Floods such pathless Forests grow,
Such Mountains rise, so many Rivers flow:
The Toil looks lovely in the Heroes Eyes,
And Danger serves but to enhance the Prize.

Big with the Fate of Europe he renews
His dreadful Course, and the proud Foe pursues:
Infected by the burning Scorpion's Heat,
The sultry Gales round his chaf'd Temples beat,
'Till on the Borders of the Maine he finds
Defensive Shadows, and refreshing Winds:
Our British Youth, with in-born Freedom bold,
Unnumber'd Scenes of Servitude behold,
Nations of Slaves, with Tyranny debas'd,
(Their Maker's Image more than half defac'd)
Hourly instructed, as they urge their Toil,
To prize their QUEEN, and love their Native Soil.

Still to the rising Sun they take their Way
Through Clouds of Dust, and gain upon the Day.
When now the Neckar on its friendly Coast
With cooling Streams revives the fainting Host,
That chearfully its Labours pass'd forgets,
The Mid-night Watches, and the Noon-day Heats.

O'er prostrate Towns and Palaces they pass,
(Now cover'd o'er with Weeds, and hid in Grass)
Breathing Revenge; whilst Anger and Disdain
Fire ev'ry Breast, and boil in ev'ry Vein:

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