Sir Richard Blackmore M. D. - King Arthur: Book IX lyrics

These Things in Gallia past. The King the while Prepar'd to Sail from Cold Pomona's Isle. Lovely Aurora did serenely rise, And with her Rosy Footsteps markt the Skys. When with his Men, and Arms, and war-like store Arthur embark'd to make Neustrasia's shore. The howling Sailors all their Anchors weigh'd, And the tall Ships their Spacious wings display'd. They spoon'd away before the shoving Wind, And left retreating Cliffs and Rocks behind. They cut the Ocean, while Officious Gales Swell'd the Capacious Bosoms of their Sails. Thrice interchangably the Night and Day Had from the Air each other chas'd away, When now arriving on the Neustrian Strand The pious Arthur safely came to Land. Many glad Troops, soon as the welcome Fame Of their great Monarch's safe Arrival came, Sent by the Chiefs, Impatient of delay Pour'd from his Camp to meet him on his way. And when they saw the Hero from afar Advancing like the Poets God of War, High in the Air they their round Bonnets flung, And all the Heav'ns with Acclamations rung. The wild, Transported Youth did run, and shout, Each other hug'd, and leap'd, and flew about. His Chariot Wheels on which the Cohorts hung, Midst loud applauses slowly roll'd along. With so much Joy King Arthur was receiv'd, And thus attended at the Camp arriv'd. Where to his high Pavilion soon they bring, Rich Wine, and Meats, Refreshments for their King. His Supper ended, Arthur did relate How he in Peace had left Britannia's State. And what amazing Dangers him befel, Caus'd by the Malice of the Prince of Hell, Both on the Waves and in Pomona's Isle, All which he vanquish'd with unwearied toil. Then did he hear his Chiefs Narration make How all things past, since he did first forsake Lutetia's Fields Brittania to compose, Leaving the Franks to quell Domestic Foes. For Solmar's fall he did his Grief express, And prais'd the pious Clovis stedfastness. Then he declar'd to all his fixt intent That when t'atone th' Almighty they had spent Th' approaching Day in Fervent Praise, and Prayer, To the proud Foe he would advance the War. The rising Sun the Throne of Night invades, Fenc'd with thick Darkness, and entrench'd in Shades; His radiant Troops break thro' th' Horizon's Line, And on the Heav'nly Plains triumphant shine. And now appear'd the Sacred resting Day, When Christians publick Adoration pay To Heav'n, and fervid with Devotion raise In rapt'rous Hymns their great Creator's Praise: And then with awful Reverence and Fear, From Sacred Priests Divine Instruction hear. The Captains warm'd with their Religious flame Soon to their Monarch's high Pavilion came, T'address with humble Prayer th' Almighty's Throne, And his unbounded Power, and Rule to own They did his Justice and his Love a**ert, And by Confessions labour'd to avert His Judgments, and his Anger to Atone, Caus'd by their Land's Offences, and their own. They cast upon his Providential Care The high Concerns of this Important War, And with an humble Confidence rely'd For Victory on his Almighty Aid: Trusting that Heav'n would ever have regard To the just Man, and would his Deeds reward. When thus the Britons had their God ador'd, His Goodness prais'd, and future Aid implor'd, They sate prepar'd to hear his Heav'nly Word. Then Caledon arose with solemn Air, And to instruct them did himself prepare. He Albion's Rights still labour'd to defend, And pure Religion's Empire to extend. The finest Clay and pure Etherial Fire Dispens'd with double Bounty did conspire To make a Man, that should the World surprise, A Genius near of Kindred to the Skys. A Genius so sublime, so rich, and vast, As all but famous Tylon far surpast. He did with zeal true piety promote, For Publick Good he Preach'd, and Pray'd, and Wrote, All the great Ends for which his Monarch fought. Prodigious was the Compa** of his Mind, Wide as his Love, which took in Humane Kind. He Albion's Good, not Fame or Riches fought, Generous, and open-hearted to a fault. An unexhausted Magazin his Brain Did all the Treasures of the Schools contain. He shew'd as oft as he Religion taught Such Fulness, such Fecundity of Thought, Such Luxury of Sense, such Strength and Art As soon subdu'd the Hearer's yielding Heart. How Wise, how Great, how Good must he appear Who was to Arthur and to Tylon dear? The famous Priest th' attentive Audience taught, And from the Sacred Oracles he brought What in their minds Conceptions Just and Right Of the first Glorious Being might excite. What might Create Dependance on his Power, And by engaging Heav'n make Conquest sure. And thus his Wise Instructions did Commence With Zeal Divine, and rapid Eloquence. The Pagan World ev'n in its darkest Night, Receiv'd from glimm'ring Nature so much Light, That by that Candle of the Lord they found They were by Duty, and by Int'rest bound, The World's high Moderator to atone, And their Dependance on his Care to own. With solemn Worship they invok'd his Aid Before their War-like Ensigns they display'd. To take the Field they from the Altar rose, And from their Temples march'd to meet their Foes. To render Heav'n Propitious to their Arms, Christians are more oblig'd to use the Charms Of pure Devotion, who more clearly know What Blessings from Divine Assistance flow. The Lord of Armys in the Battel stands, And Vict'ry always watches his Commands. Without his Favour and propitious Aid, Armies in vain defend, in vain invade. The Turns of Empire, and th' Events of War, Result from his Supream, directing Care. Those who the Self-existent Cause conceive, And all his Glorious Attributes believe, Who own his Greatness, and unbounded Power To crush his Foes, and Vot'ries to secure; His Justice, that with Threats the Bad deters, And great Rewards on Upright Men confers, His unchang'd Love and Truth that never errs: His Faithfulness, that ne'er forsakes his own, But stands as fix'd as his Eternal Throne, That to his Servants still he Succour brings, Gather'd beneath his kind protecting Wings. Those Saints who such a Deity conceive, With strong Devotion arm'd, will ever strive With Heav'n, and first begin their Conquests there, Before on Earth they undertake a War. Success and Triumph, never to the side That Heav'n engages on, can be deny'd. Who has an Arm like God? who with his Word And dreadful Voice, can Thunder like the Lord? He walks array'd with Majesty and Light, Hid by excess of Glory from our sight. He casts his Terrors round on every side, Observes the Great, and Laughs to see their Pride. He frowns them to the Dust, their Power defeats, And tramples down th' Ambitious from their Seats. He gathers up the Ocean in his hand, And binds the Billows in with Cords of Sand. He broke th' Abyss up for the watry Stores, And plac'd before the Waves his Rocky Doors. He markt out for them their appointed Seat, And said, Come hitherto, and then retreat. He in a Ballance weighs the lofty Hills, And stooping down with Ease takes up the Isles, Which torn up from their Roots appear so light, That when he poises them, they lose their weight. By him the spacious Heav'ns are over-span'd, And the Sea's lost when held within his hand. How swift his flaming Darts of Light'ning fly, Shot from the gaping Engines of the Sky? His Voice of Thunder do's his Wrath proclaim, And shakes affrighted Nature's rocking Frame. Whene'er he bows the Heav'ns, and thence comes down, He makes the Mountains tremble at his Frown. The Rocks are rent where e'er his Terrors go, Hills melted down like Wax before him flow. He from their Seats with Ease the Mountains spurns, And in his Wrath aspiring Hills o'erturns. He makes the Earth warp from its ancient place, And wrests its trembling Pillars from their Base. By him rebuk'd, the Sun withdraws his Light, And Stars lie hid, seal'd up with suddain Night. He the wide Heav'ns transparent Curtain spreads, And on the Sea's unstable Billows treads. He gives Arcturus, and Orion Light, And bids the Pleiades adorn the Night. Hell all its dark Dominions to him shows, d**h and Destruction their sad Spoils disclose. He rais'd the Southern Spheres, and bid them rowl In unmolested Order round their Pole. His Word suspends the Earth, and stretches forth Above the empty Void, the Frozen North. The Constellations shine at his Command, He form'd their radiant Orbs, and with his Hand He weigh'd, and put them off with such a Force As might preserve an Everlasting Course. This mighty King, whose Universal Sway This, and the spacious Worlds above, obey; Encompa**'d with a vast Abyss of Light, And mounds of Glory of excessive height, Do's still unseen, and unmolested dwell, Conceal'd in Splendor Inaccessible. With perfect Wisdom he all Nature guides, And Empires to precarious Kings divides. Who while he pleases wear th' Imperial Crown, And when he pleases lay their Scepter down. Princes by Him, and mighty Monarchs Reign, Justice Decree, and all their Laws ordain. He first unsheaths the Sword, then bids it go, And make a sinful Land Heav'n's Vengeance know. The glitt'ring Spoiler not to be withstood, Triumphs in Wounds, and d**h, and reeks in Blood. Enthron'd, on slaughter'd Heaps the Tyrant reigns, And spreads with ghastly Spoils the Crimson Plains. Where the red Glutton labours to a**wage, With bloody Riot his insatiate Rage. Thus while the high Divine Commission lasts, Realms to Destruction doom'd, th' bright Destroyer wasts: But when th' Almighty bids the Spoiler stand, He stops his Course, and owns the great Command. He choaks th' Infernal Throat of Howling War, And the black Mouths of Horror and Despair. All Martial Noise, Uproar, and Tumult, cease, Husht by the soft melodious Voice of Peace. Long war-like Spears are chang'd for Shepherds Crooks, And Swords and Shields for Spades' and pruning Hooks. The Woolly Flocks again adorn the Hills, And Rural Care the busy Vally fills. The grisly shapes of d**h and Terror gone, New Life and Joy the smiling Regions crown. So when a black Tempestuous Night is past In which loud Winds have lofty Tow'rs defac'd The Mountains rent, and laid the Forrest wast, This strife the Morn composes with her Charms, And all the fighting Elements disarms. A joyful Peace succeeds this Stormy War, And calms the troubled Empire of the Air. The Sun's bright Beams the reeking Meads adorn, And chearful Lab'rers to their toil return. He in set bounds do's wild Ambition keep, And to her say's, as to the raging Deep, Here stop before the Bars which I have laid. Here shall thy proud insulting Waves be staid, They strive in vain these Banks to overflow, Thus far they shall, but shall no farther go. The Fate of Empires flow from his Command, And all the Hearts of Kings are in his hand. Which by his sk** are guided and inclin'd Ends to promote those Princes ne'er design'd. Sometimes he raises by a mighty hand Tyrannic Monsters to Supream Command, At once to rule, and scourge a Sinful Land. Who like the Prince of Darkness to a**wage Infernal Malice, and to cloy their Rage Furys and bloody Ministers employ Mankind with various Torments to destroy. These mighty Nimrods eager of their Food Hunt down Mankind and bath themselves in Blood. Kingdoms with Desolation they deface And in their Rage extirpate Adam's Race. Then if the Guilty their Defection mourn, And back to Vertue's Heav'nly Path return, If humble Prayer and penitential Crys With sacred Violence invade the Skys, Which are the only Gyants that a**ail The Throne of Heav'n, and in the War prevail, For Heav'n and Earth together still repent, This of its Guilt, that of the Punishment; Th' Almighty's Bowels mov'd within him turn And in his Breast mild flames of Mercy burn. His Heart with soft Compa**ion melted flows And he Decrees to ease that Nation's Woes. Then do's he cause some Hero to arise, Some mighty Leader, Valiant Just and Wise, Some Moses, Joshua, Jeptha, Constantine, Some pious Hercules of Race divine, Some Arthur, or some Branch of Arthur's Line. For this great Race with numerous Heros stor'd, Always some great Deliverer will afford. These he enjoyns the Monsters to invade, And to support them gives his constant aid. These from the Earth Tyrannic Spoilers chase, The great Reproach and Plague of Humane Race. These Ministers of Heav'n midst loud applause Restore Religion, Right, and antient Laws. Then fruitful Peace spreads out her brooding Wings, And her bright train of Blessings Justice brings. All freed from Violence and War-like noise, Beneath their Fig-tree and their Vine rejoyce. These Hero's from above derive the Fire And Force Divine, that dos their Breasts inspire. The God-like Vigour and th' Immortal Ray That breaks so brightly thro' their purer Clay Kind Heav'n bestows; to form a noble Mind For great Events and mighty Deeds design'd. And from the glorious Fountain whence it came, Divine Supplys must feed the Hero's Flame. And when their Arms attempt Illustrious Deeds, Assisted from above their Sword succeeds. Their Safety springs from Heav'n's peculiar Care, And from its Aid their Laurels gain'd in War. The Lord of Hosts dos in the Battel spread His spacious Shield above his Favorite's Head. He in the Army's Front dos still appear, And shakes from far his vast Almighty Spear. He whets his glitt'ring Sword, prepares his Bow, And shoots his fatal Shafts amidst the Foe. What certain Triumph may those Chiefs expect, Whose Arms Omnipotence dos thus Protect? The strong the Battel, and the Swift the Race May often gain, but not of Right, but Grace. He often his controuling Power to show, Bestows the Victory on the Weak, and Slow. He often in the subtile Net ensnares The crafty Statesman, which himself prepares. He turns their Counsels into Foolishness, And makes the Wise their Ignorance Confess, Some slight, but unexpected Incident Cast in by him, shall all their Schemes prevent. Proud Monarchs, who on numerous Troops rely, And neighb'ring States united force defy, He's often pleas'd as Captives to bestow On their much Weaker, tho' successful Foe, He do's their Pride by their Defeat upbraid, And shows no Power is great without his Aid. The Fall of Kingdoms is by him decreed, And from his Will Events of War proceed. He strikes Amazement thro a Camp, and then Shrubs on the Hills appear like Armed Men. A Flight of Birds, or else a murm'ring Breeze Shaking the tops of neighb'ring Mulb'ry Trees, When Consternation has prepar'd the Ear, Like mighty Hosts upon their March appear, Or rapid Torrents which from Mountains gush, Or raging Armys that to battel rush. They think the Earth, so fear perswades them, feels Steeds trampling Hoofs, and brazen Chariot Wheels. When none pursue th' affrighted Cohorts fly, Fear finds them Wings, that found the Enemy. Against themselves he can their Swords employ, And by their mutual Wounds an Host destroy. He can their stoutest Chiefs and Legions scare, With clouds in Warriours shape, and Steeds of Air, With glaring Meteors, and Fantastic War. A slight mistake can valiant Troops defeat, Or groundless Fame oblige them to retreat. He can his Stars his glitt'ring Host above Draw out in bright Array, and make them move In radiant Lines of War to Charge the Foe, And on them deadly Influence to throw. All his Arm'd Elements in Battel stand Eager t'engage, and Fight at his Command. His Airy Troops, Winds, Rain, and Snow, and Hail, Heav'ns signal giv'n, the trembling Foe a**ail. He by a thousand ways can make appear How weak Man's Power, how vain his Counsels are. He can of Insects raise a mighty Host That shall invade his Foes best guarded Coast. These wing'd Battalions muster in the Sky, And rang'd in Battel round his Standard fly. Raw Vapours he can List, Corruption Arm, And raise from every Hedge a war-like swarm. With Worms and Flys he can Commissions trust, And for new Levys can impress the Dust. He can of Frogs a croaking Army form, That shall their Bulwarks Scale, their Castles Storm, That through their Cedar Palaces shall stalk, And thro' their Rooms of State in Triumph walk. All these the Lord of Nature can employ, And by their force his haughty Foes annoy. But this he need not do, unless to show How many ways he can destroy the Foe. For he th' Angelic Armys can Command Who to observe his nod, Obsequious stand, Arm'd with Celestial Swords all bright and keen, As that which o'er Jerusalem was seen, When in the Air the fierce Destroyer stood Reeking in Slaughter, and distain'd with Blood. These on the Foe, when the high Order's giv'n, Can draw down all th' Artillery of Heav'n. They such destructive Weapons can Employ As in a moment will Great Hosts destroy. Believe that Heav'n engages on your Side, Will aid your Arms and humble Gallia's Pride. Believe your Swords drawn in the Almighty's Cause, Will Conquest Win, and meet a loud Applause. Great Armacan whose Breast Prophetic Fire Descending from above did oft inspire, Whose venerable Words our Isle believ'd, And as divine Predictions still receiv'd, A famous Prophecy has left behind Of Woes against Lutetia's Sons design'd. Wherein it clearly do's appear that you Are rais'd by Heav'n Lutetia to subdue. Your certain Hopes of Conquest to create At large the Prophecy I'll now relate. Make hast, to all the loftiest Mountains fly, From whose aspiring Tops amidst the Sky, You may the Regions all around survey, Aloft the waving Banner there display. Aloft th' Almighty's Royal Sandard rear, Spread out the War-like Ensigns thro' the Air, And let the bloody Flag denounce the War. Then call aloud to all the Countrys round, And fill the wide Horizon with the sound. Call with a mighty Voice that may alarm The Realms beneath, and make the Nations Arm. That all may hasten to the noble toyl, To easy Conquest, but to Wealthy Spoil. My sanctify'd, my Chosen Chief, and all My mighty Warriours, and my Captains call. Call all my Generals, and my Legions forth, The Ministers of my avenging Wrath. A mighty Race, that by their Arms design Not their own Glory to promote, but mine. Hark, what a mighty noise the Mountain fills, How loud it Ecchoes from Contiguous Hills? How do's the Clamor and tumultuous Sound Of marching, Armys from the Sky rebound? What gath' ring Clouds advance, and bring from far The heavy Tempest of Impending War? What confluent Multitudes, what numerous Troops O'erspread the Hills, and crown the Mountains tops? How fierce they look? how bright their Arms appear? How wide a Front of War how deep a Rear? The God of Armys do's his Power display, And draws his dreadful Battel in Array. On high they muster, and with martial Grace In long Review before their General pa**. Embattled Squadrons swarm upon the Plain, T'attend th' Almighty in his great Campaign. The glorious Leader grasps his Sword and Shield, And with his war-like Myriads takes the Field. Ah! Mourn Lutetia, let thy sorrows grow Boundless and vast, as thy approaching Woe. Break open all thy secret stores of Grief Exhaust thy Weeping Springs, hope no Relief, Torments pursue thee which exceed Belief. Let Grief and Anguish reign with lawless sway; For this proud City is thy dismal Day, This is thy Fatal and Surprizing Hour When Heav'n will vast destruction on thee pour. These storms of Vengeance which the Skys o'erspread Shall be discharg'd on thy aspiring Head. These mighty Preparations all are made With dreadful War thy Empire to invade. Now Sorrows unexpressible are felt, And in their Breasts the Hearts of Warriours melt. Ghastly Distraction do's each Soul possess, And strange Amazement all their looks confess. Never such wild and hideous shapes of Fear, Never such finish'd Horror did appear. The miserable World could never show So exquisite a Grief and such excess of Woe. Gigantic Terrors, Anguish and Despair, And shiv'ring, howling Fears the City scare. What Agonys of Grief Lutetia shows Suddain, and strong as Womens Labour-Throws! How she bewails her Fate, and well she may, For now draws nigh th' Almighty's wrathful Day. How sad a Day? what Storms of Vengeance rise? What black Destruction gathers in the Skies? Oh, inauspicious Day! amazing Sight! Oh, Day more dreadful than the blackest Night! See, how th' Almighty comes, with how much hast He marches on to lay Lutetia wast? Mark, in his Eyes what vengeful Fury glows? What angry Clouds hang on his frowning brows? How keen his Sword? how terrible his Shield? What temper'd Light'nings do's the Conquerour weild? How vast his Host? how bright their Armor shines? How long the Order of th' Embattled Lines? How great this Day is when, with Sword in hand, Th' Almighty marches to destroy thy Land; Thy lofty Walls, Lutetia, to surround, And level thy proud Turrets with the ground? Th' affrighted Stars retreat into the Sky, And from Heav'n's brow and outmost Frontier fly, Unable to preserve their Posts, and view The bloody Labour ready to ensue. The Planets starting at the dismal Sight, Forsake their Orbs, and wander far in Night. The Sun so long to woful Sights inur'd, Owns this is worse than e'er he yet endur'd. For he no sooner from the East displays O'er all th' Etherial Fields his golden Rays, But strait he startles, and do's backwards run, And of its Light defrauds the sick'ning Moon. Against th Unjust th' Almighty do's declare, Against th' wicked he advances War. He'll from the Earth this impious Race destroy, And with their Slaughter will his Fury cloy. He'll give his ravening Sword their Flesh for Food, And make his thirsty Arrows drunk with Blood. He from their Thrones will haughty Princes thrust, And roll their awful Purple in the Dust. The Proud and Mighty who the Earth Oppress, His Justice by their Ruin shall Confess. Such Universal Woe, such Misery, Such shall th' unheard of Desolation be, That Men with strict enquiry must be sought, Grown fearce, as Gems from farthest India brought. Precious and rare as Ophir's Golden Oar, Or purest Pearl from wanton Asia's Shore. How hard 'twill be to find a Man's abode, And when 'tis found he'll be with Wonder show'd, The strangest Savage that frequents the Wood. With Nails o'ergrown, wild Looks, and matted Hair, He'll sculk in Caves, or wander in Despair. And if by chance a roaming Beast of Prey Shall meet him in his solitary Way, He'll wonder at a Monster so unknown, And yield himself by the Man-Beast out-done. When God in Fury wields his deadly Sword, Nature to see the Terrors of it's Lord, Amaz'd, and frighted to its Centre, shakes, Forgets her Duty, and her Course forsakes. His Wrath o'erturns the Mountains rocking Heaps, And the scar'd Earth from its strong Basis leaps. The trembling World's distorted Pillars crack, And high above prevailing Chaos back, The Poles stand up to point out Nature's Wreck. As when a Roe do's on the Hills appear, Chas'd by the Dogs, and his own swifter fear, O'er Woods and Lawns he trips, light as the Wind, And leaves his Foes, tho' not his Fears behind. So shall thy Sons to Foreign Climates take Their hasty flight, and thy vext Soil forsake. In distant Realms they'll thy Destruction mourn, But ne'er to this accursed Land return. As scatter'd Sheep without a Shepherd stray, Expos'd to every Ravening Beast a Prey, So shall thy Children o'er the Mountains roam Naked, Distrest, without a Guide or Home. None to the straggling Fugitives shall show The least Compa**ion to a**wage their Woe. A thousand ways they'll from Destruction fly, And by a thousand various Terrors dy. Those who remain about her shall afford A bloody Harvest to the raging Sword. All her Adherents in this fatal Hour Which either lov'd her Gold, or fear'd her Power, In her Distress Lutetia shall forsake, Lest of her Cup of Vengeance they partake. Those who before her Majesty ador'd, Proclaim'd her Praises, and her Aid implor'd, Of her Destruction shall Spectators stand, And point, and say, is this the fruitful Land? This the great City so ador'd of late? What an amazing Turn is this of Fate! Where are her Walls and lofty Pillars? where Her Towers that shone so glorious in the Air? Where all her gilded Battlements and Spires Whose Height and Light outvy'd the Heav'nly Fires? Where is her Tyrian Pomp, her Robes of state? Where the high Courts where she in Judgment sate? Those who enslav'd themselves for Gallic Gold Betray'd their Trust, and native Country sold, Who still with zeal her Praises did proclaim, And with their Guilt advanc'd Lutetia's Fame, Shall in Lutetia's Desolation fall, While they in vain for her Protection call. How will the envious Race with Malice burst, How will th' Anointed of the Lord be curst By their black mouths, when with his mighty Host He marches on to proud Lutetia's Coast? What anguish will they feel? what shiv'ring Fear When they the Briton's mighty Triumphs hear? When he shall pull their Gallic Idol down, And spreading Laurels shall his temples Crown. The Lord of Hosts shall call his Armys forth, Enroll his Troops and Muster in the North. He shall his Warriours from Britannia bring, Led on to Triumph by their mighty King. With these the War-like Nations shall combine, That come from Alba's Banks, and drink the Rhine. This valiant Host, th' Almighty will engage On Gallia's Soil to execute his Rage. Vig'rous their Limbs and roughly great their Mind, Patient of Labour, and for War design'd. All great in Arms, all men of mighty Name, Not Wealth and Spoil but Conquest is their Aim. The nobly slight rich Ophir's Golden vein, And look on Silver Heaps with just disdain. These to Lutetia's Walls their Arms advance To humble and correct her Arrogance. The tender Offspring of the Womb shall dy, And dash'd to pieces on the Pavement ly. Th' Inexorable Sword around shall rage Without distinction made of Sex or Age. The fierce Destroyer shall thy Nobles meet, And lay thy Youth in heaps in every street. Children shall trembling to their Father fly, And at his feet shall by the Javelin dy. Scar'd Infants cling about the Mothers neck, And on the Invader look with Horror back, But stab'd within her Arms they fill with blood The Parent's Bosom whence it lately flow'd. Affrighted Maids th' insulting Foe to shun To screaming Mothers for Protection run, But neither earnest Crys, nor Youthful Charms Can melt th' Invader, and Arrest his Arms. The Cruel, Deaf, and Unrelenting Spear Shall not Compa**ion's tender Accents hear, Or mov'd by Mercy, Youth or Beauty spare. Thou mighty City, Gaul's Imperial Head Which hast so Wide thy Fame and Conquests spred, And in proud Triumph Captive Princes led, Which as an Empress hast been long renown'd, Enrich'd with Spoils, which Power and Plenty crown'd, Thy Day's at hand, thy fatal Hour is come That brings at last th' Irrevocable Doom. The British King his Royal Standard reers, See where his Host upon the Hills appears. He shall abase thy Pride, thy slaves release, Revenge her Wrongs and give Europa Peace. He shall thy strong and deep Foundations raze, And on thy Ruins build Immortal Praise. Thy lofty Towers that with Majestic Pride In Height and Glory with each other vy'd. Which their aspiring Heads before did thrust Amidst the Clouds now hide them in the Dust: They in their broken Arms each other take, And ghastly Friendship in Destruction make. High Roofs of Cedar from Assyria brought, Rare Statues all by ancient Masters wrought, Dishes of ma**y Silver high embost, And Marble Pillars from Ausonia's Coast, Tables inlaid amazing to behold, Mucovian Furrs, and India's purest Gold, Sydonian Luxury, and wealth Immense Engross'd with wondrous care, and vast expence. These mingled by Lutetia's fall shall meet, And spread with noble Rubbish every Street. In after times thou'lt be with wonder show'd Magnificent in heaps, in Ruin proud. 'Twill Learning be thy Monuments to know, And those thought Wise who thy Remains can show. Grave Antiquarys shall the Traveller lead Around the Heaps, and on thy Reliques read. They'l point, and to th' admiring Stranger cry, See, yonder where those lofty Ruins ly, There stood Lutetia's King's Imperial Seat, Amazing then, now in Destruction Great. Delicious Gardens on th' inclining Side Of that fair Hill display'd their flowry Pride. What Labyrinths of everlasting Green, What lovely Walks adorn'd that Heav'nly Scene. Fountains of wondrous Art did ever flow, And high into the Air their Waters throw. Statues that Sk** Inimitable show'd In beauteous order on the Terras stood: They stood indeed but yet such Life did show, Spectators wonder'd why they did not go. How sweet a Shade Confederate Trees did spread, Raising to Heav'n but one continued Head. There a Can*l, a noble Flood contain'd, Which from reluctant Nature Art had gain'd, Where Boats of Pleasure pa**'d along the Shores With Silken Pendants, and with gilded Oars. Elastic Engines wrought with wondrous Sk** And mighty Cost, rais'd Waters to the Hill Which first the Fountains fill'd, and then below Did all collected in the Channel flow. Now, as you see, the wild neglected Field Do's only Thorny Shrubs and Thistles yield. Now view the Reliques of that pompous Arch Thro' which King Salmo did in Triumph march Upon the Stones you may with Horror see Th' Inscriptions, and audacious Blasphemy With which to flatter his enormous Pride, Court Sycophants their Monarch Deify'd. There see the Baths and Aqueducts, and there See where the Dome its lofty Head did reer. This shall, proud City, be thy dismal State, The next to Sodom's and Gomorrah's Fate: The Shepherd's shall not here their Tents extend, Nor in their Folds their bleating Flocks defend. The Savage Kind shall their old Haunts forsake, And in this wilder Seat their Refuge take. The Serpents in thy Cedar Rooms shall ly, And o'er thy Heaps shall hissing Dragons fly. In thy gilt Rooms shall rest th' ill-boding Owl, And Wolves within thy Palaces shall howl. About thy Streets the ravening Bear shall stray, And in thy Courts her unshap'd Whelps shall lay. The Lyon shall possess thy Prince's Throne, The next Apartment shall the Panther own. The Tyger here his Residence shall make, And there the Leopard shall his Lodging take. The Bittern midst thy mossy Heaps shall cry, Vultures and all the Pyrates of the Sky, To this amazing Wilderness shall fly. All Beasts and Birds of Prey shall hither come, That beat the Air, or thro' the Forest roam: A dire Convention, yet a milder Race Than what before possest this Cruel place. Now,Valiant Britons, you may clearly see Your Arms are meant in this great Prophecy. You are th' Almighty's Chiefs, his Chosen Host By him drawn out t'invade Lutetia's Coast. Success and Triumph to your Arms belong, Play but the Men, and for your God be strong. Now let your Valour and resistless Sword, Shew that you fight the Battel of the Lord. Who in Compa**ion to Britannia's Fate, The Mighty Arthur rais'd to save her State. He, by this God-like Moses set you free From your hard Tasks, and Marks of Slavery. And by a thousand various Wonders wrought, The British Youth from heavy Bondage brought. See where your war-like Joshua ready stands, To lead your Troops to Vanquish Pagan Lands. Advance then to Correct the Gallic Pride, Arthur has God, and Vict'ry on his side. He ceas'd. The Captains to their Tents retir'd, With Caledon's Seraphic Tongue inspir'd, A martial Heat did in their Bosoms glow, And all impatient seem'd t'engage the Foe.