50
THE CHACE.
Book II.
In all the strictest Discipline of War:
As if some watchful Foe, with bold Insult, 375
Hung low'ring o'er their Camp. The high Resolve,
That flies on Wings, thro' all th'encircling Line,
Each Motion steers, and animates the whole.
So by the Sun's attractive Pow'r controll'd,
The Planets in their Spheres roll round his Orb, 380
On all he shines, and rules the great Machine.
As if some watchful Foe, with bold Insult, 375
Hung low'ring o'er their Camp. The high Resolve,
That flies on Wings, thro' all th'encircling Line,
Each Motion steers, and animates the whole.
So by the Sun's attractive Pow'r controll'd,
The Planets in their Spheres roll round his Orb, 380
On all he shines, and rules the great Machine.
E'er yet the Morn dispels the fleeting Mists,
The Signal giv'n by the loud Trumpet's Voice,
Now high in Air, th' Imperial Standard waves,
Emblazon'd rich with Gold, and glitt'ring Gems;
And like a Sheet of Fire, thro' the dun Gloom
Streaming meteorous. The Soldiers Shouts,
And all the brazen Instruments of War,
With mutual Clamour, and united Din,
The Signal giv'n by the loud Trumpet's Voice,
Now high in Air, th' Imperial Standard waves,
Emblazon'd rich with Gold, and glitt'ring Gems;
And like a Sheet of Fire, thro' the dun Gloom
Streaming meteorous. The Soldiers Shouts,
And all the brazen Instruments of War,
With mutual Clamour, and united Din,
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