On the Stratagem of War, in Erecting a Battery at the Light-House, and the remarkable Success it had, against…

THe English then, with warlike Minds & Skill Go, by Command, unto the Light-house Hill There to Erect a Battery, and Annoy, The Island Fortress, then their Bombs Employ Swift Messengers of Death, with roaring Noise, By Art directed, on an equal Poise, Successful these become to that degree, That Gallics, there, Escap't into the Sea: Seek shelter from, these fi'ry blazing Balls, That scatter Death, each one, where e're it falls. Then French convinc'd of their impending Fate, By Flag-of-Truce, move to Capitulate They that before, had vauntingly sent Word, What English, gain'd, shou'd be at point of Sword: Do now, in humble wise, tamely make Tender, On Terms propos'd, the City to Surrender. 'Twas thro' Constraint, this Motion Gallics made, From force of Arms, by those that them invade, Now spirits sank, with heart-relenting Moans, Of Wife, & Children, mix'd with dying Groans, Of Men and Women, Children, Sociates all, Each one expects, under, like Fate, to fall.