Classic Poem

Suppos'd to be made by Capt. R. S.

S HOU'D Addison's Immortal Verse,
Thy Fame in Arms, great Prince, Rehearse,
With Anna's Lightning you'd appear,
And glitter o'er again in War:
Repeat the Proud Bavarian's Fall!
And in the Danube plunge the Gaul!

'Tis not for me thy Worth to show,
Or Lead Achilles to the Foe;
Describe stern Diomed in Fight,
And put the wounded Gods to Flight:
I dare not, with unequal Rage,
On such a Mighty Theam ingage;
Nor Sully in a Verse like mine,
Illustrious Anna's Praise, and Thine.

Let the laborious Epic strain
In lofty numbers sing the Man,
That bears to distant Worlds his Arms,
And frights the German with Alarms:
His Courage and his conduct tell,
And on his various Virtues dwell.
In trifling Cares my humble Muse
A less Ambitious Tract pursues,
Instead of Troops in Battel mixt,
And Gauls with British Spears transfixt:
She Paints the soft Distress and Mein
Of Dames expiring with the Spleen.

From the gay Noise affected Air,
And little Follies of the Fair,
A slender stock of Fame I raise,
And draw from others Faults, my Praise.