He said, deep, silence held the Christian band,
Silent, unmov'd in dire dismay they stand;
A pensive scene; till WILLMORE's warlike son
Roll'd on the chief his eyes, and thus begun :
"If I oppose thee, chief, thy wrath withold,
The laws of council bid my tongue be bold;
And have we cross'd the deep, the stormy main,
And have our heroes bled, but bled in vain?
And shall we basely quit the field of fame,
Our glory lost, our bravest soldiers slain ?
Is this a general's voice, that would suggest
Fears like his own, to ev'ry soldier's breast?
Confiding in our want of worth he stands,
And if we fly, 'tis what our chief commands.
Go thou, inglorious, from the embattled plain,
Thy ship lies nearest to the surgy main ;
A nobler care our soldiers shall employ,
To fight and conquer, and return with joy;
Here we shall stay, or if our troops retire,
Myself will fight and gloriously expire.
Me and my valiant sire will fight for fame,
With him I'll fight, for 'twas with him I came."
He ceas'd; the troops loud acclamations raise,
From voice to voice resounds brave LAMBERT's praise;
Fierce WILLMORE then his lofty figure rear'd,
He spoke, the troops in still attention heard ;
The noble hero on his spear reclin❜d,
And bending forward, thus reveal'd his mind:
"O truly great, in whom high heav'n has join'd
Such dauntless courage and such strength of mind;
In conduct as in beauty you excel,
Still first to act what you advise so well;
Those wholesome councils which your wisdom moves, Our soldiers all with common voice approves ;
Chiefs thou canst blame, a bold but prudent youth,
And blame ev'n chiefs with praise, because with truth;
But let me add what yet remains behind,
A thought unfinish'd in that gen'rous mind :
THOU CHIEF, it fits alike to speak and hear,
Pronounce with judgment, with regard give ear;
To see no wholesome motion be withstood,
And ratify the best for gen'ral good;
Nor, tho' a meaner give advice, repine,
But follow it, and make the wisdom thine;
Hear then a thought, not now conceiv'd in haste,
At once my present judgment and my past;
Obey the night and use her peaceful hours,
Our troops t' encourage, and refresh our pow'rs;
Strait in the vessels be provisions sought,
From them let beef and bread and rum be brought;
Let the physicians medicine prepare,
And be the wounded their peculiar care;
Wide o'er the fields, high blazing to the sky,
Let num'rous fires the absent sun supply;
The flaming piles with plenteous fuel raise,
Till the bright morn her orient light displays;
To keep strict watch must now command our care,
But soon as Phebus rides thro' fields of air,
Refresh'd in arms let every troop engage,
And yon fir'd town behold the battle rage."
The leader spoke; from all the troops around,
Shouts of applause along the shores resound.
Thus they debate, while night extends her reign,
And round ovENAL mourns the sable train.
Stern in superior grief MONDINGO stood;
His slaught'ring arms so us'd to bathe in blood,
Now clasps her clay cold hands, then gushing start
Salt tears, while sighs burst from his swelling heart.
The lion thus with dreadful anguish stung,
Roars thro' the desart, and demands his young,
When the grim savage to his rifled den,
Too late returning, snuffs the track of men ;
And o'er the vales, and o'er the forests bounds,
His clam'rous grief the bellowing wood resounds :
Thus grieves MONDINGO, thus MONDINGO Vents
To all his mournful friends, his loud laments:
"My dear ovENAL, yet a while I stay,
Then swift pursue thee in the darksome way;
Thus let me lie till then, thus closely press'd
Bathe thy cold face, and sob upon thy breast;
While maids and matrons here thy mourners stay,
Weep all the night and languish all the day."
He spoke, and speaking bids the matrons round
First cleanse the corpse and wash each gaping wound;
And then with fervent and with pious toil,
T'adjust the body, and anoint with oil.
With grief and rage he feels his bosom glow,
And longs to meet the bloody Christian foe;
Now looks all eager for the morning light,
Then views the corpse, and sickens at the sight;
Prone on the body, fill'd with wild despair,
He falls, and beats his breast and tears his hair;
Furious with rage, he lifts his humid eyes,
Shining with grief, and as he lifts them cries,
"And is she gone? the dame I lov'd so well,
My dear, dear consort, my poor ovENAL;
For ever dear, beneficent and kind,
Joy of my life, and solace of my mind;
Accept these loving tears, for thee they flow,
For thee who ever felt another's woe;
I left thee fresh in life, and beauty gay,
Now find thee cold inanimated clay,
What woes my wretched race of life attend,
Sorrows on sorrows, never doom'd to end;
Thy sweet society, thy winning care,
Oft stay'd MONDINGO rushing to the war,
But now, alas! to death's cold arms resign'd,
What banquet but revenge can glad my mind;
What greater sorrow could afflict my breast,
What more tho' hoary ZANGO were deceas'd;
Who grieves for me and tears his silver hair,
For me his son, and drops a tender tear.
I hop'd ovENAL might survive to rear
Our tender infant, with a parent's care.'
Sighing, he said, while tears spontaneous flow
In streams profound, that swell the mighty woe.
Friends strive to comfort him on ev'ry side,
Unmov'd he heard them, and with sighs deny'd;
His grief they calm not, nor his woes control,
He sighs, he raves, and sorrows, from his soul.
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