Was it a Muse, O lofty Poet, Or Virgin of St. CYR, You faw? Why all this Fury? What's the Matter, That Oaks must come from Thrace to dance? Must stupid Stocks be taught to flatter? And is there no fuch Wood in France? Why must the Winds all hold their Tongue? Would that have spoil'd the Poet's Song; Or puff'd away the Monarch's Praise? II. Dans fes chanfons immortelles, Comme un Aigle audacieux, Si, dans l'ardeur qui m'infpire, III. Eft-ce APOLLON & NEPTUNE, Qui fur ces Rocs Sourcilleux Ont, compagnons de Fortune, Bafti ces Murs orgueilleux ? L'airain fur ces Monts terribles Vomit le Fer, & la Mort. IV. Dix mille vaillans ALCIDES 漿 PINDAR, that Eagle, mounts the Skies; While Virtue leads the noble Way: Too like a Vultur BOILEAU flies, Where fordid Interest shows the Prey. When once the Poet's Honour ceases, From Reason far his Tranfports rove: And BOILEAU, for eight hundred Pieces, Makes LOUIS take the Wall of Jov E. III. NEPTUNE and SOL came from above, They arm'd these Rocks; then fhow'd old JovE Such Walls, these three wife Gods agreed, Of Gods, as well as Men, mistaken. But ne'er can WILLIAM's Force reftrain: He'll pass them Both, who pafs'd the Boyn: Remember this, and arm the Sein. IV. Full fifteen thousand lufty Fellows With Fire and Sword the Fort maintain: Each was a HERCULES, You tell us ; Yet out they march'd like common Men. L Cannons Qui foudain perçant fon goufre, V. Namur, devant tes murailles VI. N'en doute point: c'est luy-mesme. VII. Plein |