The CAMPAIGN 1692.  

WHEN People find their Money spent,  
They recollect which way it went,  
The like in order to prevent  
for th' Future.   

That Money's spent I need not tell,  
For what I know not very well,  
Unless to make Folks to Rebel  
or Tutor.   

But lest you think it spent in vain,  
And of our Hero's Acts complain,  
I will describe this last Campaign  
in Flanders.   

With Treasure, Ships, and Arms good store  
To make the French (as we be) poor,  
He did embark with many more  
Commanders.   

While Cares were fight in his Breast,  
And nothing left (but Wife) unpressed,  
He took, not staying to be blessed,  
his Ark Sir.   

Hastening to make some work for Verse,  
Fit for dull Dutchmen to rehearse,  
Where Wit and Courage are so scarce;  
d'ye mark Sir.   

He was no sooner set on shore,  
When News came Post that Luxembur '  
Had actually besieged Namur,  
nigh Liege Sir.   

This Action put him in amaze,  
Fearing if he should make delays,  
It would be difficult to raise  
the Siege Sir.   

With that he Mustered all his Force,  
Full fourscore thousand Foot and Horse,  
That never flinched or hung an Arse  
when fight.   

And marched away with Noble Train;  
But all Endeavours proved in vain,  
There were such Storms of Thunder, Rain,  
and Lightning.   

The filthy Season made him fret;  
Not that he feared the French a bit;  
But that it was such plaguy wet  
raw Wether.   

We boldly viewed their dirty Passes,  
And strong Retrenchments where no Grass is,  
And so retired like driven Asses  
together   

For not attempting once to fight,  
Namur was taken in our sight,  
Though from the Town we lay not quite  
a Mile, Sir.   

The strength of Flanders so was won,  
And William bravely saw it done,  
And unconcernedly looked on  
the while, Sir.   

The Dutch, who better knew the Land,  
Found it too slippery to stand,  
And therefore would not be trappanned,  
as we were.   

For so to Fight at any rate,  
Without Assurance of their Fate,  
Or a respect to Future State,  
is not fair.   

Low-countries Courage thus expressed,  
His Highness thought it time to rest,  
And full three Months he took at least  
to do it.   

When so refreshed in haste he risen,  
And Swore, (for 'twas his turn t'oppose,  
He'd be revenged, and make his Foes  
to rue it.   

To carry on this great Design,  
Early one Morning very fine,  
He did resolve to force their Line  
and Trenches.   

With Swords, and Guns, and Hand-Granadoes,  
He made his way through Ambuscadoes,  
And beat down some o'th' Palisadoes  
of the Frenches.   

So there began a warm dispute,  
The French were strong and held him to't;  
For Aesop ordered all his Foot  
to draw forth.   

When Two Fight, one must always beat,  
'Tis said; but that's a mere deceit;  
For William only did retreat,  
and so forth.   

He left indeed Six Thousand Dead,  
At least they were despirited,  
Twelve hundred, some say, were Prisoners made,  
but I wont.   

The French did soon decamp we find,  
As if to Fight no more inclined,  
Leaving the Lord knows what behind;  
for I doubt.   

What if this great Attempt did fail?  
He had another to prevail,  
That Monsieur might his Stars bewail  
with sorrow.   

Louis in hopes was made to fly,  
His Conquests left to Will. to buy;  
Toth' Commonwealth his Tyranny  
to borrow.   

'Twas a Descent, you understand,  
On the French Coasts some Men to Land,  
To rescue Traitors from the hand  
of Lewis.   

Old Laws of France there to restore,  
As England's he had done before;  
But some will have't to break 'em more,  
most true is.   

Suppose all Kings alike for ease,  
And the Name only not to please,  
(Old Things with us are a Disease)  
'twere madness;   

While Lewis' Glory does Commence,  
T'ex change him for a creeping Prince,  
'Twould be a vile Affront to sense,  
in sadness.   

The Ladies would forbid those Arts,  
To give away their King of Hearts,  
For one of less performing parts  
than le Grand.   

For One that han't to show, God knows,  
So much to please 'em, as a Nose;  
Though it may serve to spite his Foes,  
how ere't stand   

But while our Champion was abroad,  
Mind how he kept the very Road  
He to his Cabinet had showed  
and went in.   

To drag our Landmen out to Sea,  
To use them ill, and keep their Pay,  
Strict Orders coming every Day  
from Benting.   

With fifteen thousand Men, and more,  
Five hundred Ships to waft them over,  
With sixty Canons that would roar  
like Thunder.   

Some fifty Mortars great and small,  
Bombs, Carcases, the Devil and all,  
And bloody Threats sent from Whitehall,  
you'd wonder.   

Spades, Shovels, Pioniers they got,  
Guns, Swords, saved all since Oates' Plot,  
At Bilboa made, if I am not  
mistaken;   

Bridles and Saddles not a few,  
With Harnesses for Mankind too,  
To show the French what they must do,  
if taken.   

The forty thousand Bills from Spain,  
Which ne'er till then saw Sun or Rain,  
But have in Huggar Muggar lain  
fourteen year;   

The Pilgrims too, sly Volunteers,  
Expected just so many years,  
If you'll believe't t'increase French Fears,  
were seen there:   

But above all, they were supplied  
With six months' powdered Beef beside,  
For fear the French should not provide  
enough, Sir.   

And armed with a pious Zeal  
For holy Kirk, and Commonweal,  
And Courage true as any Steel,  
or Buff, Sir.   

This grand Design was deeply laid,  
If it be true that People said,  
That Rochel was to be betrayed,  
or Dunkirk;   

Though others said they were to go  
In dusk of Night to St. Malo,  
To burn the Ships, and maul the Foe  
with Dungfork.   

But some a wiser thing did say,  
'Twas farther off into a Bay,  
Not far from Bayonne, called Biscay,  
nigh Spaniard.   

To stop our Search an Order came  
That none the destined Place should name,  
But he should straight be hanged for th'same  
at Main yard.   

All thus equipt, Wind sitting right,  
They hoist Sail with all their Might,  
And safely past the Isle of Wight  
as can be.  
Strange Hopes and Fears did us possess,  
To know what would be the Success,  
When suddenly came an Express  
to Danby;   

Which brought Advice that Russel, he  
With Leinsters' Duke could not agree;  
So was our Project utterly  
defeated.   

To get in Order this Descent  
Four hundred thousand pounds were spent;  
So you, and not the Government  
were cheated.   

Thus between French that us do beat,  
And Dutch that daily do us cheat,  
Our Grief and Ruins must be great,  
I fear it.   

Issachar's Arms may ours be made,  
An Ass between too Burdens laid,  
To both for being Jews betrayed,  
you'll Swear it.   

Namur we saw to France submit,  
At Steinkirk flushed into a Net,  
And the Descent proved beshit  
all over.   

His Conquests thus at once you view,  
And how he did his Foes subdue;  
His Triumphs next I will to you  
discover.   

But first observe how he returned!  
Some Paltry Ships that you thought burned,  
And Bert, with whom to fight he scorned,  
no wonder.   

Met him: But Kings, whose Honour lies  
As his, be not to fight a prize,  
With Folks concerned in Robberies  
and Plunder.   

So to escape a Bloody Boot,  
He did take down his Royal Clout,  
Or Flagg, on which it did fall out,  
Gaff. Momus.   

Our King of Bees, than did not fail,  
Although he wears no sting in's Tail,  
And without shifting Hive to Sail,  
safe Home to's.   

The Tower Guns were all prepared,  
And Fireworks on Lighters reared;  
But what came on 'em I ne'er heard  
a Verbum.   

In Windows most Folks set up Lights,  
Excepting saucy Jacobites,  
That had their Glazing broke to Rights,  
to curb 'em.   

First came some Guards to clear the way;  
And next a Squire, with Boots of Hay,  
And on a Nag most miserably  
Bejaded.   

Two Men came next, who cringed and bowed,  
And humbly did beseech the Crowd,  
To make a Noise, and Bawl aloud,  
as they did.   

Then came a Coach, in which there sat  
Four Lords, who went, as People prate,  
His Highness to congratulate  
and flatter.   

Next twenty Mobb, the Chief o'th' Town,  
in Left hand Club, in Right Hand Stone,  
Those Windows which had Candles none  
to batter.   

Four Horses next a Chariot drew,  
In which of Dutchmen there sat two,  
Whose very looks would make one spew,  
as I did.  
At last the fierce Life-guards appeared,  
Who at the Candles gaped and stared:  
And thus his Triumphs you have heard  
described.   

Now judge if he's so fit a Pin  
For th'wounded Hole that he is in;  
Or have we cause to choose again?  
or no, Sir?   

If we to Slavery are born;  
Yet 'tis a Case that's too forlorn,  
To serve them, that our Servants scorn,  
I trow, Sir.   

But after all it must be said,  
His Conquests were not quite so bad,  
But he those Triumphs merited,  
and more, Sir:   

For sure no Emperor of Rome,  
Nor British King was, I presume,  
With Farthing Candles lighted home  
before, Sir.   
FINIS.