Page:The Poems of John Dyer (1903).djvu/106

 Now grac'd by Blenheim, in whose stately rooms Rise glowing tapestries that lure the eye With Marlb'rough's wars : here Schellenbergh exults Behind surrounding hills of ramparts steep, And vales of trenches dark ; each hideous pass Armies defend ; yet on the hero leads His Britons, like a torrent, o'er the mounds. Another scene is Blenheim's glorious field, And the red Danube. Here the rescued states Crowding beneath his shield ; there Ramillies' Important battle : next the tenfold chain Of Arleux burst, and th' adamantine gates Of Gaul flung open to the tyrant's throne. A shade obscures the rest Ah ! then, what pow'r Invidious from the lifted sickle snatch'd The harvest of the plain ? So lively glows The fair delusion, that our passions rise In the beholding, and the glories share Of visionary battle. This bright art Did zealous Europe learn of Pagan hands, While she assay'd with rage of holy war, To desolate their fields : but old the skill ; Long were the Phrygians' picturing looms renown'd ; Tyre also, wealthy seat of arts, excell'd, And elder Sidon, in th' historic web. Far-distant Tibet in her gloomy woods Rears the gay tent, of blended wool unwoven. And glutinous materials : the Chinese Their porcelain, Japan its varnish, boasts. Some fair peculiar graces every realm, And each from each a share of wealth acquires. But chief by numbers of industrious hands A nation's wealth is counted : numbers raise Warm emulation : where that virtue dwells There will be Traffic's seat ; there will she build