Belgia indulg'd her open grief,
While yet her master was not near:
With fullen pride refus'd relief,
And fat obdurate in despair.
As waters from her fluices, flow'd
Unbounded forrow from her eyes:
To earth her bended front fhe bow'd,
And fent her wailings to the fkies.
But when her anxious lord return'd,
Rais'd is her head, her eyes are dry'd;
She fmiles, as William ne'er had mourn'd,
She looks, as Mary ne'er had dy'd.
That freedom which all forrows claim,
She does for thy content refign:
Her piety itself would blame,
If her regrets should weaken thine.
To cure thy woe, fhe fhews thy fame:
Left the great mourner should forget
"That all the race, whence Orange came,
.Made Virtue triumph over Fate.
William his country's caufe could fight,
And with his blood her freedom feal:
Maurice and Henry guard that right,
For which their pious parents fell.
How heroes rife, how patriots fet,
Thy father's bloom and death may
Excelling others, these were great:
Thou, greater ftill, must these excel.
The last fair instance thou must give,
Whence Naffau's virtue can be try'd ;
And fhew the world that thou canst live
Intrepid, as thy confort dy'd;
Thy virtue, whose refiftlefs force
No dire event could ever stay,
Muft carry on its deftin'd courfe,
Though death and envy ftop the way.
For Britain's fake, for Belgia's, live:
Pierc'd by their grief, forget thy own;
New toils endure, new conqueft give,
And bring them ease, though thou haft none
XXXII.
Vanquish again; though the be gone,
Whofe garland crown'd the victor's hair :
And reign, though fhe has left the throne,
Who made thy glory worth thy care.
XXXIII.
Fair Britain never yet before
Breath'd to her king an useless prayer:
Fond Belgia never did implore,
While William turn'd averse his ear.
But, fhould the weeping hero now
Relentless to their wishes prove;
Should he recall, with pleafing woe,
The object of his grief and love;
XXXV.
Her face with thousand beauties bleft,
Her mind with thousand virtues ftor'd,
Her power with boundless joy confeft,
Her perfon only not ador’d:
Yet ought his forrow to be checkt;
Yet ought his paffions to abate;
If the great mourner would reflect,
Her glory in her death complete.
XXXVII.
She was inftructed to command,
Great king, by long obeying thee;
Her fceptre, guided by thy hand,
Preferv'd the ifles, and rul'd the fea.
XXXVIII.
But oh! 'twas little, that her life
O'er earth and water bears thy fame:
In death, 'twas worthy William's wife,
Amidst the ftars to fix his name.
Beyond where matter moves, or place
Receives its forms, thy virtues roll;
From Mary's glory, angels trace
The beauty of her partner's foul.
Wife Fate, which does its heaven decree
To heroes, when they yield their breath,
Haftens thy triumph. Half of thee
Is deify'd before thy death.
Alone to thy renown 'tis given,
Unbounded through all worlds to go: While fhe, great Saint, rejoices Heaven; And thou fuftain't the orb below.
IN IMITATION OF ANACREON.
LET them cenfure: what care I?
The herd of critics I defy.
Let the wretches know, I write,
Regardless of their grace or fpite.
No, no: the fair, the gay, the young,
Govern the numbers of my fong;
All that they approve is fweet;
And all is fenfe that they repeat.
Bid the warbling Nine retire ;
Venus, ftring thy fervant's lyre:
Love fhall be my endless theme;
Pleasure shall triumph over Fame :
And, when thefe maxims I decline,
Apollo, may thy fate be mine!
May I grafp at empty praise;
And lose the nymph, to gain the bays!
SUR LA PRISE DE NAMUR, PAR LES ARMES DU ROI, L'ANNEE 1692.
PAR MONSIEUR BOILEAU DESPREAUX.
UELLE docte & faint yvreffe
Aujourd'hui me fait la loi ?
Chaftes Nymphes du Permeffe,
N'eft-ce pas vous que je voi?
Accourez, troupe fçavante :
Des fons que ma lyre enfante;
Ces arbres font rejoüis :
Marquez en bien la cadence:
Et vous, vents, faites filence:
Je vais parler de Louis.
Dans fes chanfons immortelles,
Comme un aigle audacieux,
Pindare étendant fes aifles,
Fuit loin des vulgaires yeux.
Mais, ô ma fidele lyre,
Si, dans l'ardeur qui m'infpire,
Tu peus fuivre mes transports:
Les chênes des monts de Thrace
N'ont rien oui, que n'efface
La douceur de tes accords.
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