Whence she contemplates with a tranquil mind Her various wanderings from the fated hour That she abandon'd her maternal clime; Neptunian Commerce, whom Phonice bore, Illustrious nymph, that nam'd the fertile plains Along the sounding main extended far, Which flowery Carmel with its sweet perfumes, And with its cedars Libanus o'ershades: Her from the bottom of the watry world, As once she stood, in radiant beauties grac'd, To mark the heaving tide, the piercing eye Of Neptune view'd enamour'd: from the deep The god ascending rushes to the beach, And clasps th' affrighted virgin. From that day, Soon as the paly regent of the night Nine times her monthly progress had renew'd Through Heaven's illumin'd vault, Phoenice, led By shame, once more the sea-worn margin sought: There pac'd with painful steps the barren sands, A solitary mourner, and the surge, Which gently roll'd beside her, now no more With placid eyes beholding, thus exclaim'd:
"Ye fragrant shrubs and cedars, lofty shade, Which crown my native hills, ye spreading palms, That rise majestic on these fruitful meads, With you, who gave the lost Phoenice birth, And you, who bear th' endearing name of friends, Once faithful partners of my chaster hours, Farewell! To thec, perfidious god, I come, Bent down with pain and anguish on thy sands, I come thy suppliant: death is all I crave; Bid thy devouring waves inwrap my head, And to the bottom whelm my cares and shame!" She ceas'd, when sudden from th' enclosing deep A crystal car emerg'd, with glitt'ring sheils, Cull'd from their oozy beds by Tethys' train, And blushing coral deck'd, whose ruddy glow Mix'd with the watry lustre of the pearl. A smiling band of sea-born nymphs attend, Who from the shore with gentle hands convey The fear-subdu'd Phoenice, and along The lucid chariot place. As there with dread All mute, and struggling with her painful throes She lay, the winds by Neptune's high command Were silent round her; not a zephyr dar'd To wanton o'er the cedar's branching top. Nor on the plain the stately palm was seen To wave its graceful verdure; o'er the main No undulation broke the smooth expanse, But all was hush'd and motionless around, All but the lightly-sliding car, impell'd Along the level azure by the strength Of active Tritons, rivaling in speed The rapid meteor, whose sulphureous train Glides o'er the brow of darkness, and appears The livid ruins of a falling star.
Beneath the Lybian skies, a blissful isle, By Triton's 3 floods encircled, Nysa lay. Here youthful Nature wanton'd in delights, And here the guardians of the bounteous horn, While it was now the infancy of time, Nor yet th' uncultivated globe had learn'd To smile, Eucarpé 4, Dapsiléa 5, dwelt,
With all the nymphs, whose sacred care had nurs'd The eldest Bacchus. From the flow'ry shore A turf-clad valley opens, and along
Its verdure mild the willing feet allures; While on its sloping sides ascends the pride Of hoary groves, high-arching o'er the vale With day-rejecting gloom. The solemn shade Half round a spacious lawn at length expands, Clos'd by a tow'ring cliff, whose forehead glows With azure, purple, and ten thousand dyes, From its resplendent fragments beaming round; Nor less irradiate colours from beneath On every side an ample grot reflects, As down the perforated rock the Sun Pours his meridian biaze! rever'd abode Of Nysa's nymphs, with every plant attir'd That wears undying green, refresh'd with rills From ever-living fountains, and enrich'd With all Pomona's bloom: unfading flowers Glow on the mead, and spicy shrubs perfume With inexhausted sweets the cooling gale, Which breathes incessant there; while every bird Of tuneful note his gay or plaintive song Blends with the warble of meandring streams, Which o'er their pebbled channels murm'ring lave The fruit-invested hills that rise around. The gentle Nereids to this calm recess Phoenice bear; nor Dapsiléa bland, Nor good Eucarpé, studious to obey Great Neptune's will, their hospitable care Refuse; nor long Lucina is invok'd.
Soon as the wondrous infant sprung to day, Earth rock'd around; with all their nodding woods, And streams reverting to their troubled source, The mountain shook, while Lybia's neighb'ring god, Mysterious Ammon, from his hollow cell With deep resounding accent thus to Heaven, To Earth, and sea, the mighty birth proclaim'd: "A new-born power behold! whom Fate hath call'd
The god's imperfect labour to complete This wide creation. She in lonely sands Shall bid the tower-encircled city rise, The barren sea shall people, and the wilds Of dreary Nature shall with plenty clothe; She shall enlighten man's unletter'd race, And with endearing intercourse unite Remotest nations, scorch'd by sultry suns, Or freezing near the snow-encrusted pole : Where'er the joyous vine disdains to grow, The fruitful olive, or the golden ear; Her hand divine, with interposing aid To every climate shall the gifts supply Of Ceres, Bacchus, and the Athenian maid 7; The graces, joys, emoluments of life, From her exhaustless bounty all shall flow."
The heavenly prophet ceas'd. Olympus heard. Straight from their star-bespangled thrones descend On blooming Nysa a celestial band, The ocean's lord to honour in his child; When, o'er his offspring smiling, thus began The trident ruler. "Commerce be thy name: To thee I give the empire of the main, From where the morning breathes its eastern gale, To th' undiscover'd limits of the west, From chilling Boreas to extremest south Thy sire's obsequious billows shall extend Thy universal reign." Minerva next
6 This whole description of the rock and grotte is taken from Diod. Siculus, lib. 3. p. 202.
7 Minerva, the tutelary goddess of the Athenians, to whom she gave the olive.
With wisdom blest her, Mercury with art, The Lemnian god with industry, and last Majestic Phoebus, o'er the infant long In contemplation pausing, thus declar'd From his enraptur'd lip his matchless boon: "Thee with divine invention I endow, That secret wonder, goddess, to disclose, By which the wise, the virtuous, and the brave, The heaven-taught poet and exploring sage Shall pass recorded to the verge of time."
Her years of childhood now were number'd o'er, When to her mother's natal soil repair'd The new divinity, whose parting step Her sacred nurses follow'd, ever now To her alone inseparably join'd;
Then first deserting their Nyseian shore
To spread their hoarded blessings round the world; Who with them bore the inexhausted horn Of ever-smiling Plenty. Thus adorn'd, Attended thus, great goddess, thou beganst Thy all-enlivening progress o'er the globe, Then rude and joyless, destin'd to repair The various ills which earliest ages ru'd From one, like thee, distinguish'd by the gifts Of Heaven, Pandora, whose pernicious hand From the dire vase releas'd th' imprison'd woes. Thou, gracious Commerce, from his cheerless In horrid rocks and solitary woods, [caves The helpless wand'rer, man, forlorn and wild, Didst charm to sweet society; didst cast The deep foundations, where the future pride Of mightiest cities rose, and o'er the main Before the wond'ring Nereids didst present The surge-dividing keel, and stately mast, Whose canvass wings, distending with the gale, The bold Phoenician through Alcides' straits, To northern Albion's tin-embowel'd fields, And oft beneath the sea-obscuring brow Of cloud-envelop'd Teneriff, convey'd. Next in sagacious thought th' ethereal plains Thou trodst, exploring each propitious star The danger-braving mariner to guide; Then all the latent and mysterious powers Of number didst unravel: last to crown Thy bounties, goddess, thy unrival'd toils For man, still urging thy inventive mind, Thou gav'st him letters 9; there imparting all, Which lifts the noble spirit near to Heaven, Laws, learning, wisdom, Nature's works reveal'd By godlike sages, all Minerva's arts, Apollo's music, and th' eternal voice Of Virtue sounding from the historic roll, The philosophic page, and poet's song.
Now solitude and silence from the shores Retreat on pathless mountains to reside, Barbarity is polish'd, infant arts Bloom in the desert, and benignant peace With hospitality begin to soothe
Unsocial rapine, and the thirst of blood; As from his tumid urn when Nilus spreads His genial tides abroad, the favour'd soil That joins his fruitful border, first imbibes The kindly stream: anon the bounteous god His waves extends, embracing Egypt round, Dwells on the teeming champaign, and endows
* Vulcan, the tutelary deity of Lemnos. 9 Here the opinion of sir Isaac Newton is followed, that letters were first invented amongst the trading parts of the world.
The sleeping grain with vigour to attire In one bright harvest all the Pharian plains: Thus, when Pygmalion from Phoenician Tyre Had banish'd freedom, with disdainful steps Indignant Commerce, turning from the walls Herself had rais'd, her welcome sway enlarg'd Among the nations, spreading round the globe The fruits of all its climes; Cecropian 10 oil, The Thracian vintage, and Panchaian gums, Arabia's spices, and the golden grain, Which old Osiris to his Egypt gave,
And Ceres to Sicania ". Thou didst raise Th' Ionian name, O Commerce, thou the domes Of sumptuous Corinth, and the ample round Of Syracuse didst people.—All the wealth Now thou assemblest from Iberia's mines, And golden-channel'd Tagus, all the spoils From fair Trinacria 12 wafted, all the powers Of conquer'd Afric's tributary realms To fix thy empire on the Lybian verge, Thy native tract; the nymphs of Nysa hail Thy glad return, and echoing joy resounds O'er Triton's sacred waters, but in vain: The irreversible decrees of Heaven To far more northern regions had ordain'd Thy lasting seat: in vain th' imperial port Receives the gather'd riches of the world: In vain whole climates bow beneath its rule; Behold the toil of centuries to Rome
And seas unknown, with thee th' advent'rous sons Of Tagus 6 pass'd the stormy cape, which braves The huge Atlantic; what though Antwerp grew Beneath thy smiles, and thou propitious there Didst shower thy blessings with unsparing hands; Still on thy grief-indented heart impress'd The great Amilcar's valour, still the deeds Of Asdrubal and Mago, still the loss Of thy unequal Annibal remain'd: Till from the sandy mouths of echoing Rhine, And sounding margin of the Scheld and Maese, With sudden roar the angry voice of War Alarm'd thy languor; wonder turn'd thy eye. Lo! in bright arms a bold militia stood, Arrang'd for battle: from afar thou saw'st
10 Athenian. Athens was called Cecropia from Cecrops its first king.
12 Another name of Sicily, which was frequently ravaged by the Carthaginians.
14 Marseilles, a Grecian colony, the most civilized, as well as the greatest trading city of ancient Gaul.
16 The Portuguese discovered the Cape of Good Hope in 1487.
The snowy ridge of Appenine, the fields Of wild Calabria, and Pyrene's hills, The Guadiana, and the Duro's banks, And rapid Ebro, gath'ring all their powers To crush this daring populace. The pride. Of fiercest kings with more inflam'd revenge Ne'er menac'd freedom; nor since dauntless Greece, And Rome's stern offspring, none hath e'er surpass'd The bold Batavian '7 in his glorious toil For liberty, or death. At once the thought Of long-lamented Carthage flies thy breast, And ardent, goddess, thou dost speed to save The generous people. Not the vernal showers, Distilling copious from the morning clouds, Descend more kindly on the tender flower, New-born and opening on the lap of Spring, Than on this rising state thy cheering smile And animating presence; while on Spain, Prophetic thus, thy indignation broke:
"Insatiate race! the shame of polish'd lands! Disgrace of Europe! for inhuman deeds And insolence renown'd! what demon led Thee first to plough the undiscover'd surge, Which lav'd an hidden world? whose malice taught Thee first to taint with rapine, and with rage, With more than savage thirst of blood, the arts, By me for gentlest intercourse ordain'd, For mutual aids, and hospitable ties From shore to shore? or, that pernicious hour, Was Heaven disgusted with its wondrous works, That to thy fell exterminating hand Th' immense Peruvian empire it resign'd, And all, which lordly Montezuma 18 sway'd? And com'st thou, strengthen'd with the shining stores Of that gold-teeming hemisphere, to waste The smiling fields of Europe, and extend Thy bloody shackles o'er these happy seats Of liberty? Presumptuous nation, learn, From this dire period shall thy glories fade, Thy slaughter'd youth shall fatten Belgium's sands, And Victory against her Albion's cliffs Shall see the blood-empurpled ocean dash Thy weltering hosts, and stain the chalky shore: Ev'n those, whom now thy impious pride would bind In servile chains, hereafter shall support Thy weaken'd throne; when Heaven's afflicting hand
Of all thy power despoils thee, when alone Of all, which e'er hath signaliz'd thy name, Thy insolence and cruelty remain."
Thus with her clouded visage, wrapt in frowns, The goddess threaten'd, and the daring train Of her untam'd militia, torn with wounds, Despising Fortune, from repeated foils More fierce, and braving Famine's keenest rage, At length through deluges of blood she led To envied greatness; ev'n while clamorous Mars With loudest clangour bade his trumpet shake The Belgian champaign, she their standard rear'd On tributary Java, and the shores
Of huge Borneo; thou, Sumatra, heard'st Her naval thunder, Ceylon's trembling sons Their fragrant stores of cinnamon resign'd, And odour-breathing Ternate and Tidore Their spicy groves. And O whatever coast The Belgians trace, where'er their power is spread, To hoary Zembla, or to Indian suns,
18 Montezuma, emperor of Mexico.
Still thither be extended thy renown,
O William, pride of Orange, and ador'd Thy virtues, which, disdaining life, or wealth, Or empire, whether in thy dawn of youth, Thy glorious noon of manhood, or the night, The fatal night of death 19, no other care Besides the public own'd. And dear to fame Be thou, harmonious Douza 20; every Muse, Your laurel strow around this hero's urn, Whom fond Minerva grac'd with all her arts, Alike in letters and in arms to shine,
A dauntless warrior, and a learned bard. Him Spain's surrounding hosts for slaughter mark'd, With massacre yet reeking from the streets Of blood-stain'd Harlem: he on Leyden's tow'rs, With Famine his companion, wan, subdu'd In outward form, with patient virtue stood Superior to despair; the heavenly Nine His suffering soul with great examples cheer'd Of memorable bards, by Mars adorn'd With wreaths of fame; Eagrus' 2 tuneful son, Who with melodious praise to noblest deeds Charm'd the lölchian heroes, and himself Their danger shar'd; Tyrtæus 22, who reviv'd With animating verse the Spartan hopes; Brave Eschylus 23 and Sophocles 24, around Whose sacred brows the tragic ivy twin'd, Mix'd with the warrior's laurel; all surpass'd By Douza's valour: and the generous toil, His and his country's labours soon receiv'd Their high reward, when favouring Commerce rais'd Th' invincible Batavians, till, rever'd Among the mightiest, on the brightest roll Of fame they shone, by splendid wealth and power Grac'd and supported; thus a genial soil Diffusing vigour through the infant oak, Affords it strength to flourish, till at last Its lofty head, in verdant honours clad, It rears amidst the proudest of the grove.
Yet here th' eternal Fates thy last retreat Deny, a mightier nation they prepare For thy reception, sufferers alike By th' unremitted insolence of power From reign to reign, nor less than Belgium known For bold contention oft on crimson fields, In free-tongu'd senates oft with nervous laws To circumscribe, or conquering to depose Their scepter'd tyrants: Albion, sea-embrac'd, The joy of freedom, dread of treacherous kings, The destin'd mistress of the subject main, And arbitress of Europe, now demands Thy presence, goddess. It was now the time,
19 He was assassinated at Delf. His dying words were, 'Lord, have mercy upon this people." See Grot. de Bell. Belg.
20 Janus Douza, a famous poet, and the most learned man of his time. He commanded in Leyden when it was so obstinately besieged by the Spaniards in 1570. See Meursii Athen. Bat.
21 Orpheus, one of the Argonauts, who set sail from Iölchos, a town in Thessalia.
22 When the Spartans were greatly distressed in the Messenian war, they applied to the Athenians for a general, who sent them the poet Tyrtæus.
23 Eschylus, one of the most ancient tragic poets, who signalized himself in the battles of Marathon and Salamis.
24 Sophocles commanded his countrymen the Athenians, in several expeditions.
Ere yet perfidious Cromwell dar'd profane The sacred senate, and with impious feet Tread on the powers of magistrates and laws, While every arm was chill'd with cold amaze, Nor one in all that dauntless train was found To pierce the ruffian's heart; and now thy name Was heard in thunder through th' affrighted shores Of pale Iberia, of submissive Gaul, And Tagus, trembling to his utmost source. O ever faithful, vigilant, and brave, Thou bold assertor of Britannia's fame, Unconquerable Blake: propitious Heaven At this great era, and the sage decree 25 Of Albion's senate, perfecting at once, What by Eliza 26 was so well begun, So deeply founded, to this favour'd shore The goddess drew, where grateful she bestow'd Th' unbounded empire of her father's floods, And chose thee, London, for her chief abode, Pleas'd with the silver Thames, its gentle stream, Aud smiling banks, its joy-diffusing hills, Which, clad with splendour, and with beauty grac'd, O'erlook his lucid bosom; pleas'd with thee, Thou nurse of arts, and thy industrious race; Pleas'd with their candid manners, with their free Sagacious converse, to inquiry led,
And zeal for knowledge; hence the opening mind Resigns its errours, and unseals the eye Of blind Opinion; Merit hence is heard Amidst its blushes, dawning arts arise, The gloomy clouds, which ignorance or fear Spread o'er the paths of Virtue, are dispell'd, Servility retires, and every heart
With public cares is warm'd; thy merchants hence, Illustrious city, thou dost raise to fame: How many names of glory may'st thou trace From earliest annals down to Barnard's 27 times! And, O! if like that eloquence divine, Which forth for Commerce, for Britannia's rights, And her insulted majesty he pour'd, These humble measures flow'd, then too thy walls Might undisgrac'd resound thy poet's name, Who now all-fearful to thy praise attunes His lyre, and pays his grateful song to thee, Thy votary, O Commerce! Gracious Power, Continue still to hear my vows, and bless My honourable industry, which courts No other smile but thine; for thou alone Can'st wealth bestow with independence crown'd: Nor yet exclude contemplative repose, But to my dwelling grant the solemn calm Of learned leisure, never to reject The visitation of the tuneful Maids, Who seldom deign to leave their sacred haunts, And grace a mortal mansion; thou divide With them my labours; pleasure I resign, And all devoted to my midnight lamp, Ev'n now, when Albion o'er the foaming breast Of groaning Tethys spreads its threat'ning fleets, I grasp the sounding shell, prepar'd to sing That hero's valour, who shall best confound His injur'd country's foes; ev'n now I feel Celestial fires descending on my breast, Which prompt thy daring suppliant to explore,
Why, though deriv'd from Neptune, though rever'd Among the nations, by the gods endow'd, Thou never yet from eldest times hast found One permanent abode; why oft expell'd Thy favour'd seats, from clime to clime hast borne Thy wandering steps; why London late hath seen (Thy lov'd, thy last retreat) desponding care O'ercloud thy brow: O listen, while the Muse, Th' immortal progeny of Jove, unfolds The fatal cause. What time in Nysa's cave Th' ethereal train, in honour to thy sire, Shower'd on thy birth their blended gifts, the power Of war was absent; hence, unbless'd by Mars, Thy sons relinquish'd arms, on other arts Intent, and still to mercenary hands
The sword entrusting, vainly deem'd, that wealth Could purchase lasting safety, and protect Unwarlike Freedom; hence the Alps in vain Were pass'd, their long impenetrable snows And dreary torrents; swoln with Roman dead, Astonish'd Trebia 8 overflow'd its banks In vain, and deep-dy'd Trasimenus roll'd Its crimson waters; Canna's signal day The fame alone of great Amilcar's son Enlarg'd, while still undisciplin'd, dismay'd, Her head commercial Carthage bow'd at last To military Rome: th' unalter'd will Of Heaven in every climate hath ordain'd, And every age, that empire shall attend The sword, and steel shall ever conquer gold. Then from thy sufferings learn; th' auspicious hour Now smiles; our wary magistrates have arm'd Our hands; thou, goddess, animate our breasts To cast inglorious indolence aside,
That once again, in bright battalions rang'd, Our thousands and ten thousands may be seen Their country's only rampart, and the dread Of wild Ambition. Mark the Swedish hind: He, on his native soil should danger lour, Soon from the entrails of the dusky ine Would rise to arms; and other fields and chiefs With Helsingburgh29 and Steinboch soon would share The admiration of the northern world: Helvetia's hills behold, th' aërial seat Of long-supported Liberty, who thence, Securely resting on her faithful shield, The warrior's corselet flaming on her breast, Looks down with scorn on spacious realms, which In servitude around her, and, her sword With dauntless skill high brandishing, defies The Austrian eagle, and imperious Gaul: And O could those ill-fated shades arise Whose valiant ranks along th' ensanguin'd dust Of Newbury 30 lay crowded, they could tell,
29 Trebia, Trasimenus lacus, and Cannæ, famous for the victories gained by Hannibal over the Ro
29 Helsinburgh, a small town in Schonen, celebrated for the victory which count Steinboch gained over the Daues with an army for the most part composed of Swedish peasants, who had never seen an enemy before: it is remarkable, that the defeated troops were as complete a body of regular forces as any in all Europe.
30 The London trained bands, and auxiliary regiments, (whose inexperience of danger, or any kind of service, beyond the easy practice of their postures in the Artillery Ground, had till then too cheap an estimation) behaved themselves to
How their long-matchless cavalry, so oft O'er hills of slain by ardent Rupert led, Whose dreaded standard Victory had wav'd, Till then triumphant, there with noblest blood From their gor'd squadrons dy'd the restive spear Of London's firm militia, and resign'd The well-disputed field; then, goddess, say, Shall we be now more timid, when behold, The black'ning storm now gathers round our heads, And England's angry Genius sounds to arms? For thee, remember, is the banner spread; The naval tower to vindicate thy rights Will sweep the curling foam: the thund'ring bomb Will roar, and startle in the deepest grots Old Nereus' daughters; with combustion stor'd For thee our dire volcanos of the main, Impregnated with horrour, soon will pour Their flaming ruin round each hostile fleet: Thou then, great goddess, summon all thy powers, Arm all thy sons, thy vassals, every heart Inflame: and you, ye fear-disclaiming race, Ye mariners of Britain, chosen train Of Liberty and Commerce, now no more Secrete your generous valour; hear the call Of injur'd Albion; to her foes present Those daring bosoms, which alike disdain The death-disploding cannon, and the rage Of warring tempests, mingling in their strife The seas and clouds: though long in silence hush'd Hath slept the British thunder; though the pride Of weak Iberia hath forgot the roar; Soon shall her ancient terrours be recall'd, When your victorious shouts affright her shores : None now ignobly will your warmth restrain, Nor hazard more indignant Valour's curse, Their country's wrath, and Time's eternal scorn; Then bid the Furies of Bellona wake, And silver-mantled Peace with welcome steps Anon shall visit your triumphant isle. And, that perpetual safety may possess Our joyous fields, thou, Genius, who presid'st O'er this illustrious city, teach her sons To wield the noble instruments of war; And let the great example soon extend Through every province, till Britannia sees Her docile millions fill the martial plain. Then, whatsoe'er our terrours now suggest Of desolation and th' invading sword; Though with his massy trident Neptune heav'd A new-born isthmus from the British deep, And to its parent continent rejoin'd
For children, parents, friends, for England fir'd, Her fertile glebe, her wealthy towns, her laws, Her liberty, her honour, should sustain The dreadful onset, and resistless break
Th' immense array; thus ev'n the lightest thought E'er to invade Britannia's calm repose, Must die the moment that auspicious Mars Her sons shall bless with discipline and arms; That exil'd race, in superstition nurs'd, The servile pupils of tyrannie Rome, With distant gaze despairing shall behold The guarded splendours of Britannia's crown; Still from their abdicated sway estrang'd, With all th' attendants on despotic thrones, Priests, ignorance, and bonds; with watchful step Gigantic Terrour, striding round our coast, Shall shake his gorgon ægis, and the hearts Of proudest kings appal; to other shores Our angry fleets, when insolence and wrongs To arms awaken our vindictive power, Shall bear the hideous waste of ruthless war; But liberty, security, and fame,
Shall dwell for ever on our chosen plains.
To illustrate the following poem, to vindicate the subject from the censure of improbability, and to show by the concurring evidence of the best historians, that such disinterested public virtue did once exist, I have thought, it would not be improper to prefix the subsequent narration.
While Darius, the father of Xerxes, was yet on the throne of Persia, Cleomenes and Demaratus were kings in Lacedæmon, both descended from Hercules. Demaratus was unfortunately exposed by an uncertain rumour, which rendered his legitimacy suspected, to the malice and treachery of his colleague, who had conceived a personal resentleaguement against him; for Cleomenes, taking advantage of this report, persuaded the Spartans to examine into the birth of Demaratus, and refer the difficulty to the oracle of Delphi; and was assisted in his perfidious designs by a near relation of Demaratus, named Leutychides, who aspired to succeed him in his dignity. Cleomenes found means to corrupt the priestess of Delphi, who declared Demaratus not legitimate. Thus, by the base practices of his colleague Cleomenes, and of his kinsman Leutychides, Demaratus was expelled
Our chalky shore; though Mahomet could His powerful crescent with the hostile Gaul, And that new Cyrus of the conquer'd East, Who now in trembling vassalage unites The Ganges and Euphrates, could advance With his auxiliar host; our warlike youth With equal numbers 32, and with keener zeal wonder; and were, in truth, the preservation of that army that day. For they stood as a bulwark and rampire to defend the rest; and when their wings of horse were scattered and dispersed, kept their ground so steadily, that though prince Rupert himself led up the choice horse to charge millions of fighting men to this kingdom, may be them, and endured the storm of small shot, he relied on; it is not easy to conceive, how the could make no impression on their stand of pikes; united force of the whole world could assemble tobut was forced to wheel about. Clarend. book vii.gether, and subsist in an enemy's country greater page 347. numbers, than they would find opposed to them here.
32 If the computation, which allots near two
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