No More Learning

The thundering cannon now begins the fight,
And, though it be at noon, creates a night ;
The air was soon, after the fight begun.
Far more enfiamed by it, than by the sun.
Never so burning was that climate known ;
War turned the temperate, to the torrid zone.

Fate these two fleets, between both worlds, had

brought,
Who fight, as if for both those worlds they

sought.
Thousands of ways, thousands of men there die,
Some ships are sunk, some blown up in the sky.
Nature ne'er made cedars so high aspire
As oaks did then, urged by the active fire
Which, by quick powder's force, so high was

sent
That it returned to its own element.
Torn limbs some leagues into the island fiy,
Whilst others lower, in the sea, do lie ;
Scarce souls from bodies severed are so far
By death, as bodies there were by the war.



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OP MARVELL. 125

The all-seeing sun ne'er gazed on such a sight,
Two dreadful navies there at anchor fight,
And neither have, or power, or will, to fly ;
There one must conquer, or there both must

die.
Far different motives yet engaged them thus.
Necessity did them, but choice did us,
A choice which did the highest worth express.
And was attended by as high success ;
For your resistless genius there did reign.
By which we laurels reaped e'en on the main.
So prosperous stars, though absent to the sense,
Bless those they shine for by their influence.

Our cannon now tears every ship and sconce.
And o'er two elements triumphs at once.
Their galleons sunk, their wealth the sea does

fill.
The only place where it can cause no ill.

Ah ! would those treasures which both Indias
hare
Were buried in as large, and deep a grave !
War's chief support with them would buned be.
And the land owe her peace unto the sea.
Ages to come your conquering arms will bles. -*,
There they destroyed what had destroyed their

peace ;
And in one war the present age may bojjst,
The certain seeds of many wai's are lost.



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126 THE POEMS

All the foe's ships destroyed by sea or Hre,
Victorious Blake does from the bay retire.
His siege of Spain he then again pursues,
And there first brings of his success the news ;
The saddest news that e*er to Spain was broiijjiht,
Their rich fleet sunk, and ours with laurel fraught,
Whilst fame in every place her trumpet blows.
And tells the world how much to you it owes.



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OF MABVELL. 127



THE LOYAL SCOT.

BT CLEVELAND'S GHOST, UPON THE DEATH OF
CAPTAIN DOUOLASy WHO WAS BURNED ON HIS
SHIP AT CHATHAM.

Of the old heroes when the warlike shades
Saw Douglas marching on the Elysian glades,
They all, consulting, gathered in a ring,
Which of the poets should his welcome sing ;
And, as a favourable penance, chose
Cleveland, on whom they would that task impose.