A LITERAL TRANSLATION OF THE KING
OF PRUSSIA'S ODE.
I.
Oh God! all powerful God!
Invincible, unknown!
Creator, father of all;
Whom every nation implores;
Whom the Barbarian worships in the wind.
By what name will it please thee
That I shall address thee? Oh infinite,
All wise, and eternal spirit!
At the foot of thy sacred throne I most humbly bow my head.
II.
Forsaken by my only friends,
In a strange country,
Where winter was near killing us;
The enraged enemy on every side,
With their savage instruments,
The sword and fire consuming,
As if sacrificers,
They came with their deadly rage,
And hasten'd to destroy us with cries of triumph.
III.
But in thy penetrating view,
How vain are powerful troops!
I, still intrepid, dare the combat;
My buckler and my lance being my cause:
And behold the armies meet;
They turn their backs, we following to punish:
Victorious each of my soldiers
Seems to carry of war
The most terrible thunder;
And every arm is a thousand in the fury of the combat.
IV.
Then I owe thee success
To fortune! why so?
Justice succoured me;
From on high she cast down her eyes;
And when she perceived the contending parties,
She lifted up her hand to weigh
The right of each side,
And as she found the balance incline, she employ'd her sword.
The King of Prussia employs himself in times of peace in the following manner: He rises at five; on business till seven; dresses, and receives letters and petitions till nine; from nine to eleven with his ministers; then on the parade, to exercise the guards; dines at half an hour after twelve with some of his officers; at half an hour after one he retires till five; then somebody reads to him till seven; then the concert; at nine come the men of genius; they sup half an hour after, and converse till eleven; then the king retires, and at twelve goes to bed.—He is a statesman, soldier, author, and musician; indefatigable in business; and by method overlooks and directs everything; very frugal; without farce of state; the idle officers of the court have the usual titles; but no pay for the drones, tho' they are mostly officers.
THE THIRD PSALM PARAPHRASED, ALLUDING
TO HIS PRUSSIAN MAJESTY.
Look down, O God! regard my cry!
On thee my hopes depend:
I'm close beset, without ally;
Be thou my shield and friend.
Confed'rate kings and princes league,
On ev'ry side attack
To perpetrate the black intrigue
But thou canst drive them back,
Long did I fear their wink and nod;
In close cabals they cry'd,
There is no help for him in God;
His kingdom we'll divide.
Amid their army's dreadful glare
Thou gav'st me inward might,
Teaching my arm the art of war,
My fingers how to fight.
Tho' vet'ran troops my camp invest,
Expert in war's alarms,
Calmly I lay me down to rest
In thy protecting arms.
Nor will I fear their empty boasts,
Tho' thousands thousands join;
Since thou art stil'd the God of hosts,
And victory is thine.
Arise, O God, and plead my cause,
O! save me by thy pow'r;
If e'er I reverenc'd thy laws,
Guide this important hour!
'Tis done!—they shudder with dismay;
My troops maintain their ground:
Lo! their embattl'd lines give way,
And we are victors crown'd!
Success, ye kings, is not your gift;
To heav'n it does belong:
The race not always to the swift
Nor battle to the strong.
New Amer. Mag., No. IV-78, Apr. 1758, Woodbridge in N. J.
SPEECH OF THE PRINCE OF BRUNSWICK
TO THE HANOVERIAN AND HESSIAN
TROOPS.