Long had Achilles quelled the Trojans' lust, And laid the labour of the gods in dust, Before the towering Muse began her flight, And drew the hero raging in the fight, _40 Engaged in tented fields and rolling floods, Or slaughtering mortals, or a match for gods. And here, perhaps, by fate's unerring doom, Some mighty bard lies hid in years to come, That shall in William's godlike acts engage, And with his battles warm a future age. Hibernian fields shall here thy conquests show, And Boyne be sung when it has ceased to flow; Here Gallic labours shall advance thy fame, And here Seneffe[3] shall wear another name. _50 Our late posterity, with secret dread, Shall view thy battles, and with pleasure read How, in the bloody field, too near advanced, The guiltless bullet on thy shoulder glanced. The race of Nassaus was by Heaven design'd To curb the proud oppressors of mankind, To bind the tyrants of the earth with laws, And fight in every injured nation's cause, The world's great patriots; they for justice call, And, as they favour, kingdoms rise or fall. _60 Our British youth, unused to rough alarms, Careless of fame, and negligent of arms, Had long forgot to meditate the foe, And heard unwarmed the martial trumpet blow; But now, inspired by thee, with fresh delight Their swords they brandish, and require the fight, Renew their ancient conquests on the main, And act their fathers' triumphs o'er again; Fired, when they hear how Agincourt was strow'd With Gallic corps and Cressi swam in blood, _70 With eager warmth they fight, ambitious all Who first shall storm the breach, or mount the wall. In vain the thronging enemy by force Would clear the ramparts, and repel their course; They break through all, for William leads the way, Where fires rage most, and loudest engines play. Namur's late terrors and destruction show What William, warmed with just revenge, can do: Where once a thousand turrets raised on high Their gilded spires, and glittered in the sky, _80 An undistinguished heap of dust is found, And all the pile lies smoking on the ground, His toils, for no ignoble ends design'd, Promote the common welfare of mankind; No wild ambition moves, but Europe's fears, The cries of orphans, and the widow's tears; Oppressed religion gives the first alarms, And injured justice sets him in his arms; His conquests freedom to the world afford, And nations bless the labours of his sword. _90 Thus when the forming Muse would copy forth A perfect pattern of heroic worth, She sets a man triumphant in the field, O'er giants cloven down, and monsters kill'd, Reeking in blood, and smeared with dust and sweat, Whilst angry gods conspire to make him great. Thy navy rides on seas before unpress'd, And strikes a terror through the haughty East; Algiers and Tunis from their sultry shore With horror hear the British engines roar;