Classic Poem

Thus re-inforc'd, against the adverse Fleet,
Still doubling ours, brave Rupert leads the way;
With the first blushes of the Morn they meet,
And bring night back upon the new-born day.

His presence soon blows up the kindling Fight,
And his loud Guns speak thick like angry men:
It seem'd as Slaughter had been breath'd all night,
And Death new pointed his dull Dart agen.

The Dutch too well his mighty Conduct knew,
And matchless Courage since the former Fight!
Whose Navy like a stiff-stretch'd cord did show,
Till he bore in, and bent them into flight.

The wind he shares, while half their Fleet offends
His open side, and high above him shews,
Upon the rest at pleasure he descends,
And, doubly harm'd, he double harms bestows.

Behind, the Gen'ral mends his weary Pace,
And sullenly to his Revenge he sails:
So glides some trodden Serpent on the Grass,
And long behind his wounded Volume trails.

Th' increasing Sound is born to either shore,
And for their stakes the throwing Nations fear:
Their Passion, double with the Cannons roar,
And with warm wishes each Man combats there.

Pli'd thick and close as when the Fight begun,
Their huge unwieldy Navy wasts away;
So sicken waning Moons too near the Sun,
And blunt their Crescents on the edge of day.

And now reduc'd on equal terms to fight,
Their Ships like wasted Patrimonies show;
Where the thin scatt'ring Trees admit the light,
And shun each other Shadows as they grow.

The warlike Prince had sever'd from the rest
Two giant Ships, the pride of all the Main;
Which, with his one, so vigorously he press'd,
And flew so home they could not rise again.

Already batter'd, by his Lee they lay,
In vain upon the passing Winds they call:
The passing Winds through their torn Canvass play,
And flagging Sails on heartless Sailors fall.

Their open'd sides receive a gloomy light,
Dreadful as day let in to shades below:
Without, grim death rides bare-fac'd in their sight,
And urges ent'ring billows as they flow.

When one dire shot, the last they could supply,
Close by the board the Prince's Main-mast bore:
All three now, helpless, by each other lie,
And this offends not, and those fear no more.

So have I seen some fearful Hare maintain
A Course, till tir'd before the Dog she lay,
Who, stretch'd behind her, pants upon the Plain,
Past pow'r to kill as she to get away.

With his loll'd tongue he faintly licks his Prey,
His warm breath blows her flix up as she lies;
She, trembling, creeps upon the ground away,
And looks back to him with beseeching eyes.

The Prince unjustly does his Stars accuse,
Which hinder'd him to push his Fortune on;
For what they to his Courage did refuse,
By mortal Valour never must be done.

This lucky hour the wise Batavian takes,
And warns his tatter'd Fleet to follow home:
Proud to have so got off with equal stakes,
Where 'twas a Triumph not to be o'er-come.

The General's force, as kept alive by fight,
Now, not oppos'd, no longer can pursue:
Lasting till Heav'n had done his courage right;
When he had conquer'd he his Weakness knew.

He casts a Frown on the departing Foe,
And sighs to see him quit the watry Field:
His stern fix'd eyes no satisfaction shew,
For all the glories which the Fight did yield.