Lib. V

Full of the glorious Vision Malborough wakes, For when the Angel vanish'd from His Eyes, He shot half Heav'n into the Heroes Mind, His Mind was with Immortal Hope inspir'd, Celestial Confidence, Celestial Fire, A Flame that in his noble Breast aspir'd To things above the Greatness of this World, And Joy which Human Hearts can ne're conceive, Unspeakable, Transporting, yet Serene, Wisdom's Serene Companion and Her Friend, Prophetick of Felicity and Fame. Awak'd, He rises from His Bed in haste, And after Him in hast the Sun arose, Impatient to behold his wondrous Deeds. Gazing He sees the Grandeur of his Meen Exalted with a Dreadful Majesty; And all the Honours heightned of His Eyes, And all th'Heroick Virtues of His Mind, All but His great Contempt of Death encreas'd, For that was Sovereign in His Soul before, And while the Sun above th'Horizon rose Ten thousand brighter Glories from the Skies Descended to behold, or to assist In the Contention of th'Eternal Day. For the Immortal Day was to decide No trifling small Affairs, no mean Dispute, The Limits of small Kingdoms, or the Bounds Of poor Provincial Tributary Lords, But the Contention of th'Eternal Day Was to decide in great Ramillia's Field, If God should reign o're His own Works below, Or Hell usurp them with Tyrannick Sway.

And now the dreadful Trumpet sounds to Arms, When distant Clangours are like Ecchoes heard, Th'Angelick Trumpet of Celestial Fame, Which to Immortal Deeds excites their Souls. And now they march t'attack th'embattel'd Foe, And now in terrible Array appear, Awaiting their Commanders Awful Voice, Like Tempests low'ring in the Heav'ns they look That black'ning all the Sky in silence stand Before th'outragious Wrack of Heav'n begins, Like the Virgilian God of Winds their Chief, Who musters sounding Storms and rules their Rage. With pleasure He their Martial Eyes surveys And finds them with Heroick Rage inspir'd, He finds they want no Speech to raise their Souls To mightiest Deeds, for in their Eyes He sees They have already gain'd the glorious Day. Up to the Heav'ns His Eyes the Hero casts, And there the Angel with His flaming Sword And Victory with Eagles Wings He spies Towring along the vast Aethereal Space. And now a glorious Flame from Heav'n descends And agitates and shakes His mighty Soul: And this is the first Hour that e're He found Its Movements difficult to be restrain'd, With Ardor strait He gives the fatal Word, And now the Trumpet sounds the dreadful Charge, And like the last Eternal Trump it sounds, For now at hand the End of Time appears, And the expiring Worlds last ghastful Hour, For Hideous is the Face of Nature now, The Heav'ns are all on fire, the Welkin burns, Earth trembles, and the Air tormented groans. The warring Elements, Earth, Air and Fire Are raging in stupend'ous motion all, And Earth with Air confounded, and with Fire. And Bursts of horrid Thunder rend the Heav'ns And seem to be expiring Natures Groans; But no swift Motion, no Impetuous Rage Of missive Earth, or of exploded Air, Or of expanded Fire can equal half Th'outragious Motions of undaunted Minds Divinely swift in Tenements of Clay.

While to th'Attack th'embattell'd Squadrons move, And clashing with amazing Fury joyn, On one side th'Angel and bright Victory, On th'other Discord with th'Infernal Pow'rs And all the Auxiliaries of Heaven and Hell Their mighty Movements for a while suspend The Motions of frail Mortals to behold, Who Transports of Immortal Fury shew Above the weak Condition of poor Dust Above the frail Concerns of wretched Men.

While wondring they behold with all their Eyes The whole Confederate and the Gallick Pow'rs Raging and working like divided Seas Which Adverse Storms against each other drive, While Jove's Artillery rattling o're them flies, All their admiring Eyes are chiefly bent On Malborough's ev'ry Motion, ev'ry Look, Next Him Argyle drew all their wondring Eyes, Argyle the Young, the Beautiful, the Brave, Fit for deep Counsels ev'n in early Bloom, Of Thought profound, without Experience Wise, Without the Ruinous Expence of Years; In Counsel all Sedateness and all Thought But in the Bloody Field all Rage, all Fire; Champion of Union in the Bloody Field, Where still the God-like Youth made War for Peace. In Cabinets He Union too advis'd, And in grave Senates constantly He strove The jarring Nations to unite in Love. With dreadful Majesty great Malborough march'd, And like the fancied God of War He look'd, When He flies Thund'ring o're the Plains of Thrace, And Terrours march before His Iron Carr, And sounding Devastation comes behind. Argyle was like the fancied God of Love When He contracts His Brow and bends His Bow, And drawing his Inevitable Shafts Wounds deeply Human Breasts t'unite their Hearts. Without their furious Britons both appear, And Foreign Squadrons to the Charge they lead. But Germans, Danes and Dutch turn Britons all When Britons Genius in its God-like Chiefs Shines out, and fires them to Immortal Deeds, And leads them to the Charge, unknowing to retire.

O would some Angel give me force to paint The dreadful stalk of Discords sounding March, Between conflicting Hosts, before her march'd Ten thousand Terrours, Natives all of Hell, Commanded by their grizly Monarch Death. Each stride entrench'd the Earth on which she strode, The Air was tempested, the Aether frown'd, Mean while the Snaky Horrours of her Head Were wrapt in pitchy Clouds, from which her Eyes Red Lightning Dart, and Thunder was her Voice. As sternly she the Field of Death surveys, And finds that Fate in ev'ry other part Was doubtful, but where mighty Malb'rough shin'd, There Victory, there Destiny declar'd; She gives a monstrous Yell that frighting shakes The utmost Fortresses of Belgian Land; The Mountains tremble at the horrid Din, The Vales re-bellow to the monstrous Roar. When thus the Terrours and their grizly King The Fury in a frightful Tone accosts.

Have ye then found an over-match at last? Are ye contented basely to submit To the Efforts of yon Confederate Pow'rs? O're which till Malb'rough at their Head appear'd Ye always have prevail'd, nay now prevail O're Squadrons which remote from Him engage, But see He comes, this Thunderbolt of War! Look how against the Storm He Headlong drives! By all that's Impious upon us He drives! Nay now, He's in the midst of us! He's here! He unconcern'd and only we amaz'd! Is it then possible that one frail Man Can thus resist the Force of all your Pow'rs, And drive you frighted back upon your Friends? And can ye poorly bear th'extream Affront? Ye Host of Terrours and thou grizly Death, If ye are Terrours arm'd with deadly Stings, If thou art Death, my cruel Off-spring Death, And not an empty Bugbear to scare Boys; Oh fly, oh seize, dispatch th'audacious wretch Oh pierce Him, stab Him in the vitall st Part! Ha! how agast with stupid Eyes thou star'st, To see this Briton amidst all thy Pow'rs Serene, and with a Dauntless Brow appear! Thou Fool! with all this Calm and Dreadless Brow, This is no God, but a meer Mortal Man, As subject to Thy Arm as the vile Slave. Muster Thy Terrours then in dire Array! And scare this hitherto undaunted Brave, Then, then be ready with thy Fatal Dart, Let me alone to give Thee certain aim And so dispatching one we conquer all.

But who, tho' Master of an Angel's Force, An Angel's Genius, and an Angel's Voice, Of Song Celestial, Eloquence Divine, Can worthily describe in dreadful Style The fearful March of the Infernal Pow'rs Who now prepare t'attack great Malb'rough's Life! Grim Death his meager Skeleton expands Into a Form Immense, then musters all His Terrours in astonishing Array, And charges them t'appear to Mortal Eyes. His Terrours put on their most hideous Forms, Forms which with Horrour Nature sees and shakes, And from its Out-works Trembling Life retreats, And to the Heart its Cittadel retires. In Phalanx then the Hero they assail, The God-like Hero views them and reviews, Considers them, disdains them and repells: But into Madness starts the generous Steed At the dire sight, he flies, he bounds, he foams, Flashes of Lightning from his Eye-Balls flie, And from his Nostrils curling Clouds of Smoak; Then shrieking on his hindmost Feet he springs, Then groans, and floundring with his Rider falls. The Gaul and the Bavarian rend the Sky, Discord returns the Roar of vast Applause, And Death and all th'Infernal Pow'rs rejoyce; But thro' th'Allies a mortal Murmur runs, And all their Spirit's with their Hero fall'n, And Victory has Charms for them no more; The Heavn'ly Spirits are themselves concern'd, And for a Moment wonder what this means, And doubt least they mistook the Voice of Fate. The Ruffians now whom Discord had suborn'd Present a Hundred Fusees at His Life, At once an Hundred Fiery Globes discharge, But a strong unseen Hand diverts them all. Grim Death bestrides Him with a Gyant stride, And scowls upon Him with a Wall-ey'd glare; Then lifting brandishes His fatal Dart, Yet wants the pow'r to strike but looks askew, And cannot bear the Heroes dauntless Eye, When Discord cries aloud, O strike my Son! Is not our dreadful Adversary fall'n, Yes from the Pinnacle of Glory fall'n, Fall'n in a Moment to the abjectest State? O foolish Sentence! Judgment falsly past! For hear the Angel in th'Aethereal Space. O greatest Thou, he cries, of Mortal Men, Who art as Dauntless in the Arms of Death As we whom Heav'n has plac'd above His reach! Serene as when Thou o'recam'st at Bleinem's Field! Then Conquest saw Thee Humble and Serene, Death finds Thee firm and undejected now. O greatest Thou, he cries, of Mortal Men, Courage surpassing Human, God-like State, Which nothing can depress and nothing raise! Never was Mortal more severly tryed, But now 'tis past, and perfect art Thou found, And worthy found to free the Lab'ring World. For since within the very Arms of Death Thou hast the high Security enjoy'd Of Blissful Beings who can die no more, Thou shalt their high Felicity enjoy, For thy unshaken Mind can bear it all.

What Angels dictate, and what Angels do (Whose Words and Acts are swifter than our Thoughts) In Moments, Mortals cannot speak in Hours. Down He comes shooting on His Golden Wings, And on the Spot in all His Glory lights Where in the Arms of Death His Malb'rough lay. The Hero quicken'd by th'approach of Heav'n Springs from th'embrace of Death, and on His Feet As swift as are the Wings of Lightning Bounds. The Heavenly Spirits in th'Aetherial Space, And all the Empyrean Shouts for Joy, When He who while He sojourn'd here on Earth First His Command to God-like Malbro' gave, Sent down from Heaven now gives it Him once more. The Troops are wild with extasie of Joy To see their General from the Bonds of Death To Conpuest and Eternal Glory rise; Death from Immortal Splendour roaring flies And yelling Discord flies from Love Divine. Now the Brave Squadrons to His Aid arrive, And now another fiery Steed present, And with their cries the eager Hero urge To lead them on to everlasting Fame, The Hero mounts, the Squadrons rend the Skies, Mounting with Him to Heav'n their Spirits soar. The Hero mounts, but Discord while He mounts And Death outragious to be thus repuls'd Level a Canon at His Sacred Head, But from His Sacred Head the pondrous Ball Diverted, Bringfield who remounts Him kills, And consecrates Him to Eternal Fame Who dies for such a Chief in such a Cause. Thro' the Confederate Troops the Angel now The Spirit of Celestial Union spreads, And He who while he sojourn'd here on Earth First bound the Nations in the Bonds of Love Is sent from Heav'n that Union to confirm And to augment in great Ramillia's Field. Malb'rough remounted feels the Joys of Heav'n, The Wisdom and the Force of Gods He feels. And now He leads the shouting Squadrons on Daring as if they were Immortal all; With Hearts and Souls unanimous they advance, United as they were one Nation all, One Family, Relations all, and Friends. One Interest have They all, one Noble Cause, With Fury inexpressible They advance, And greatly each resolves to Die for all. The French who brave Resistance made till now, Now can Their fierce Attacks no longer bear. They can no longer bear their very Eyes And fatal Meens, but fainting all recoil, And Death and Discord with their Hell-born Host Headlong upon their Gallick Friends are diven, The routed Gauls Divide, Disband, Disperse, They flie, the Angel waves His Flaming Sword, At which expected Signal on the Wing Th'Amazing Terrours of th'Almighty stoop, And persecute and plague their broken Rear; Make some precipitate their shameful Flight, While others basely beg for wretched Life, And others Trembling Faint, and Sink, and Die Thus Discord and the Gaul were forc'd to yield To Malb'rough and to Union's Sacred Pow'r.