Newcomb 
 On the success of British arms
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 FREDERIC THOMAS BLANCHARD 
 ENDOWMENT FUND
 
 ON THE 
 
 SUCCESS 
 
 O F T H E 
 
 BRITISH ARMS. 
 
 [ Price Sixpence. ]
 
 O N T H E 
 
 SUCCESS 
 
 O F T H E 
 
 BRITISH ARMS, 
 
 A CONGRATULATORY 
 
 ODE. 
 
 ADDRESSED TO HIS MAJESTY. 
 
 By the Reverend THOMAS NEWCOMB, M. A. 
 
 Turno, tempus erit, magno cum optaverit emptam, 
 Inhadum Pallanta 
 
 — — Portantur avari 
 Pigmalionis opes pelago. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 ViRG. 
 
 Printed for L. Davis, and C. Rhymers, againft Grays-Inn, Holborn, 
 MDCCLXIII.
 
 PR 
 
 ON THE 
 
 SUCCESS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 BRITISH ARMS. 
 
 WHEN the foft breeze the florm outroars. 
 And cannons match the thunder's found, 
 Gaul then may ravage Britain's fliores. 
 And Spain be fam'd for fchemes profound. 
 
 Let then their fleets and armies join. 
 
 Attempt your ifland to chaftife : 
 Bourbon and Philip but combine 
 
 To yield your troops a double prize. 
 
 Let 
 
 870S18
 
 I 6 ] 
 "Let this the monarch's pride fupprefs. 
 
 When arm'd frefh laurels to acquire. 
 That his own iEtna frights him lefs. 
 
 Than your dread fleet's avenging fire.' 
 
 How fad the profpeft to his eye 
 
 Each night, how pain'd his reftlefs hours, 
 To view the Britifti colours fly 
 
 On loft Havannah's fhatter'd towers? 
 
 What now can fave the poor remains 
 His weftern world has yet to boaft ! 
 
 What now the vidtor's power reftrains ! 
 An empire in a city loft ! 
 
 Beneath the tropic's fcorching fire. 
 Your hardy veterans purchafe fame ; 
 
 Spite of the fun, frefli wreaths acquire. 
 Nor dread its fliafts, nor feel its flame. 
 
 Let the iky {hoot its keeneft darts 
 Upon your daring troops below ; 
 
 Since every breaft, your foldiers hearts. 
 With equal heat and ardor glow.
 
 [ 7 ] 
 
 A bulwark ftorm'd, a fortrefs won. 
 With hoftile blood each wall diftain'd ; 
 
 Your gallant troops thought nothing done, 
 If aught unconquer'd yet remain'd. 
 
 See, ftates oblig'd your power to own. 
 By pride once prompted to difdain ; 
 
 Now bending at your awful throne, 
 They long have ftrove to fhake in vain. 
 
 Tofooth their vidors glowing ire, 
 
 See humbled proftrate monarchs kneel ; 
 
 While your loud cannons venegful fire, 
 They always dreaded, now they feel. 
 
 Heav'n does your upright plans avow, 
 Guarding your fubjedls and your throne ; 
 
 Take then the wreath from Philip's brow, 
 And plant the laurel on your own. 
 
 The monarch grac'd with falfe renown. 
 
 By turns we pity and defpife j 
 Each gem, when ravifli'd from his crown. 
 
 Before the king his glory dies. 
 
 Let
 
 [ 8 ] 
 Let not your ardor then decreafe, 
 
 Tho' half the toils of war are o'er. 
 Your troops may now command fuccefs, 
 
 For which they only hop'd before. 
 
 Negleft not then th' important hour> 
 A Crisis you may ne'er regain ; 
 
 Your foes deprive of every power. 
 E'er to moleft your future reign. 
 
 Let your dire flags where'er they flow, 
 Terror and dread around difplay. 
 
 The rock itfelf a kinder foe. 
 
 The temped: dreaded lefs than they. 
 
 Tell Spain, if Britons are her foes. 
 How vain a fame her troops purfue ; 
 
 Who, ere they conquer, mufl: oppofe 
 The greatefl: power, and wifdom too. 
 
 Aw'd then no more by Iber's pride, 
 Aflert your empire o'er the main ; 
 
 While realms, which do your ifle deride. 
 Tremble at once, while they difdain. 
 
 In
 
 [ 9 ] 
 
 In his bright journey thro' the fky, 
 
 No region the great fun furveys, 
 Where Britain's colours do not fly, 
 
 And her dread enfigns do not blaze. 
 
 The Eaft and diftant Weft combine 
 
 Her triumphs in each fphere to own. 
 While her viflorious banners (hine 
 
 In worlds to Greece and Rome unknown. 
 
 Around each fea her vefTels ride, 
 
 Deftin'd the ocean to command ; 
 And dread no other foes befide 
 
 The dangerous rock, and fhelving fand. 
 
 Others, their vengeful arms employ. 
 
 When vidtors, only to opprefs ; 
 You fight, to give the vanquifh'd joy. 
 
 And conquer, but to fave and blefs. 
 
 Whene'er you read of armies flain, 
 
 What ftreams of blood the field embrue ; 
 
 Your triumphs almoft give you pain, 
 Who while you conquer, forrow too. 
 
 B Your
 
 [ lo ] 
 Your pity has the fetters broke. 
 
 Which flavifli millions wore with pain ; 
 Exxhanging now their tyrant's yoke, 
 
 For Britain's foft, and eafy chain. 
 
 How myftic is the wretches fate, 
 Made happy by a gen'rous foe ! 
 
 From whofe kind fword their blifs they date. 
 Their freedom, from their overthrow. 
 
 Tho' loudly founds the viftor's name. 
 Proud of his laurel crown to live ; 
 
 'Tis yet a meaner boaft and fame 
 To conquer nations, than forgive. 
 
 Convince your daring foes, combin'd. 
 That mercy can your wrath fubdue. 
 
 That their brave viftor is inclin'd. 
 To fpare at once, and pardon too. 
 
 Secure from all your threat'hing foes. 
 Each ftrong and happy empire lies j 
 
 You have your oceans that inclofe 
 
 Your guarded throne, and Jove his fkies. 
 
 SC£
 
 [ ^^ ] 
 
 See the grand iffues of an hour. 
 
 How weak the props of human truft ; 
 To day impregnable the tow'r, 
 
 Bury'd the next, and whelm'd in duft. 
 
 Not ftrongHAVANNAH's flinty walls 
 
 Could the proud city long fecure ; 
 The bulwark fmks, the baftion falls, . 
 
 The ftorm unable to endure. 
 
 To what kind fhrine fhall Philip fly ? 
 
 Whofe confecrated rags adore ? 
 Imploring fuccours from the fky, 
 
 For ah ! his chiefs can fight no more. 
 
 Will no angelic hofts attend 
 
 To animate his troops below ; 
 No Michael from the clouds defcend 
 
 To fhield and guard him from the foe ? 
 
 Your fword alas ! will ne'er avail 
 
 To pierce or wound his royal breaft, 
 Enclos'd within a coat of mail, 
 
 By Rome's almighty pontiff bleft. 
 
 B 2 What
 
 [ 12 ] 
 
 What altar next lliall Spain invoke, 
 Her fame to refcue from decay ? 
 
 Who views the fchemes of ages broke 
 And foil'd, by one important day. 
 
 While Bourbon's eye looks fad, to view 
 Thofe fleets, which half his realms affright 
 
 His lillies wear a fainter hue. 
 
 Which blaz'd before with fulleft light. 
 
 Your troops, in ev'ry acftion bold. 
 
 While triumphs, triumphs ftill fucceed ; 
 
 Ne'er fheath their fwords, till they behold 
 The trembling foe retire, or bleed. 
 
 Fair Cuba's rich and fertile fields. 
 
 Reft to their toils awhile allow. 
 Till batter 'd Carthagena yields 
 
 A nobler plume to deck their brow. 
 
 No dangers they regard, or ftiun, 
 Vidiors by land, and on the main. 
 
 An ifland or a province won, 
 
 Oft the rich prize of one campaign. 
 
 Who
 
 [ 13 ] 
 Who then fliall Cadiz' lofty towers 
 
 From your avenging thunders flireen, 
 When on her walls your navy pours 
 
 Thofe fhafts, which juftice whets more keen? 
 
 Tho' feas her buUwarks that furround, 
 Prompt her your fquadrons to defy. 
 
 Yet when flie hears your cannons found, 
 She trembles when your fleets are nigh. 
 
 No more proud Spain, thy power avails. 
 
 At fea thy vidlor for to meet, 
 Since half thy captive navy's fails 
 
 Serve now to grace Britannia's fleet. 
 
 Whofe penfive king muft ne'er behold 
 His loaded barks return, with joy. 
 
 Who drains his mines, and digs his gold, 
 Which Briton's feize, or elfe deftroy. 
 
 His bofom tortur'd with that dread 
 
 His realms once felt, when o'er the main 
 
 Eliza's awful thunders fpread, 
 
 The fhatter'd wrecks of half his Spain. 
 
 Let
 
 [ H ] 
 Let the fea-nymphs of Greece and Rome, 
 
 A goddefs each, whom poets call, 
 No more upon their charms prefume « 
 
 * Hermione outfliines them all. 
 
 Around his brow they each look fair. 
 
 And add by turns to his renown j 
 If Britain's king is pleas'd to wear 
 
 An olive or a laurel crown. 
 
 If fmiling peace his empire charms. 
 Peace here fhall fix its golden reign. 
 
 If war excites his fons to arms. 
 
 His fliips fliall cover half the main. 
 
 Oh, bid our paffions ceafe to glow. 
 By your kind voice at laft fupprefl: ; 
 
 And lance thofe darts upon the foe 
 
 Which long have pierc'd your country's breaft. 
 
 From ev'ry hoftile terror freed 
 
 By feas which your lov'd ifle furround j 
 
 If Britain e'er is doom'd to bleed, 
 
 'Tis her own fword that gives the wound. 
 
 • The Regifter Ship taken by the Englifli. 
 
 Who
 
 [ ^5 ] 
 Who then fhall weep xhat nation's woes. 
 
 Long the great favourite of the fkies > 
 If conquering all her other foes, 
 
 On her own fliafts flie falls and dies ? 
 
 Your triumphs heaven has oft decreed 
 
 To crown you for your labours paft ; 
 Let peace reftor'd, and Europe freed 
 
 From lawlefs tyrants, be your laft. 
 
 From fields, with guiltlefs blood diflain'd. 
 
 The favage vidlor's glories fpring, 
 Your fame is greater, to have reign'd 
 
 Your country's Father, than her king. 
 
 Your foldiers bravery all adore. 
 
 Which each pale foe with dread alarms, 
 Yet has your pious zeal done more. 
 
 And conquer'd oftner than your arms. 
 
 On others, weaker ftates rely. 
 
 When prefs'd, their empires to defend ; 
 You ftand in need of no ally. 
 
 Since heaven has own'd itfelf your friend. 
 
 The
 
 [ i6 ] 
 
 The Shaft that bounds from Phoebus' firing, 
 Thus with unerring fwiftnefs flies j 
 
 And carrying death upon its wing, 
 Touch'd by its point the vi&lm dies." 
 
 The END.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 Form L9-50m-7,'54(5990)444 
 
 THE l.HJHAKY
 
 -^ ' io3 01019 8C 
 
 ill 
 
 D 000 000 91