To injured troops thus gallant Brunswick spoke;
'Shall we with tameness bear the Gallic yoke!
'Will ye, O Veterans, inur'd to pains
'And toils of War, drag ignominious chains?
'Turn and behold! behold where hostile bands
'Seize on your properties, lay waste your lands,
'Your daughters, wives, snatch'd forcibly away,
'Slaves to proud Gallia's sons, to best a prey!
'Hark! how with piercing Cries, the tender Maid,
'By force subdu'd, implores her father's aid;
'In agonies repeats her brother's name,
'To flay the ruffians and preserve her fame!
'Rouze! Germans! rouze! a glorious vengeance take;
'Religion, honour, freedom, all's at stake!'
... "Enough," they cry'd, "let Ferdinand proceed,
"We dare to follow, where he dares to lead."
Fir'd by their country's wrongs, to arms they fly,
Resolv'd to save her, or resolved to die.
New Amer. Mag., No. IV-80, Apr. 1758, Woodbridge in N. J.
ON A CARGO OF FRENCH MUFFS SEIZ'D
BY THE PRUSSIANS.
Lewis, the winter harsh, and climate rough,
To each of his nice captains, sends a muff,
Knowing his troops too tender to resist
The foe, without a furr to guard his wrist;
For who could prime his gun, or pistol hold,
Whose aching fingers were benumbed with cold.
Prussia, a different scheme in war approves;
Whose hardy veterans charge without their gloves.
Defy the rigour of the chilling air,
And fight, and conquer with their knuckles bare.
Bourbon! if wreathes and triumphs are thy aim,
Think of some wiser way to purchase fame:
Some other arts thy rival to subdue,
Soft muffs, without keen swords, will never do;
Thy shivering troops would act a better part,
Would'st thou send something that could warm their heart;
Less for their valour than their heels admir'd
With fighting oft' ... with flying seldom tir'd,
Success thy arms would never fail to meet,
Were battles to be won by nimble feet.
New Amer. Mag., No. IV-80, Apr. 1758, Woodbridge in N. J.
THE KING OF PRUSSIA'S ODE
IMITATED IN RHIME.
1.
Father of all! all pow'rful Lord!
Infinitely unknown!
By heathen, and by saint ador'd,
Tho' differently, yet one;
By what great name shall I address
Thee everlasting king?
Oh! how my gratitude express?
Oh! how thy praises sing?
But, O great God! omniscient ever just,
Permit towards thy throne to bow, a particle of dust.
2.
By friends forsaken ev'ry where,
Alone, the brunt to stand,
Winter's inclement cold to bear,
And in a foreign Land;
The foe, enrag'd on ev'ry side,
Dire implements of war
In various shapes and forms provide,
And doom them for our share.
Heav'ns! with what fury to the charge they fly;
Forestal the vict'ry, but forget that man was born to die!
3.
Yet he who frequently has said,
That numbers don't avail,
Inspir'd us not to be dismay'd,
But stand, fight, and prevail:
The battle join'd, the foe gave way,
Superior valour own'd,
And left to us a glorious day,
With spoils and honours crown'd:
Each single Prussian arm the hero play'd,
Dealt round an hundred deaths, an hundred conquests made.
4.
Is it to fortune then I owe
This unthought for success?
Fortune is blind, it can't be so,
I must some other guess:
Justice, bright heav'nly maid, beheld
The dire contention rise,
Saw, and her sacred beam she held
Suspended in the skies:
The Austrian scale kick'd up, by our's weigh'd down,
Justice approv'd, and straight ordain'd the field to be our own.