185 To the pale foes they suddenly draw near,
       And summon them to unexpected fight: 
     They start like murderers when ghosts appear,
       And draw their curtains in the dead of night.

 186 Now van to van the foremost squadrons meet,
       The midmost battles hastening up behind,
     Who view far off the storm of falling sleet,
       And hear their thunder rattling in the wind.

 187 At length the adverse admirals appear;
       The two bold champions of each country’s right: 
     Their eyes describe the lists as they come near,
       And draw the lines of death before they fight.

 188 The distance judged for shot of every size,
       The linstocks touch, the ponderous ball expires: 
    The vigorous seaman every port-hole plies,
       And adds his heart to every gun he fires!

 189 Fierce was the fight on the proud Belgians’ side,
       For honour, which they seldom sought before! 
     But now they by their own vain boasts were tied,
       And forced at least in show to prize it more.

 190 But sharp remembrance on the English part,
       And shame of being match’d by such a foe,
     Rouse conscious virtue up in every heart,
       And seeming to be stronger makes them so.

191 Nor long the Belgians could that fleet sustain,
       Which did two generals’ fates, and Caesar’s bear: 
     Each several ship a victory did gain,
       As Rupert or as Albemarle were there.

 192 Their batter’d admiral too soon withdrew,
       Unthank’d by ours for his unfinish’d fight;
     But he the minds of his Dutch masters knew,
       Who call’d that Providence which we call’d flight.

 193 Never did men more joyfully obey,
       Or sooner understood the sign to fly: 
     With such alacrity they bore away,
       As if to praise them all the States stood by.

 194 O famous leader[46] of the Belgian fleet,
       Thy monument inscribed such praise shall wear,
     As Varro, timely flying, once did meet,
       Because he did not of his Rome despair.

 195 Behold that navy, which a while before,
       Provoked the tardy English close to fight,
     Now draw their beaten vessels close to shore,
       As larks lie, dared, to shun the hobby’s flight.

 196 Whoe’er would English monuments survey,
       In other records may our courage know: 
     But let them hide the story of this day,
       Whose fame was blemish’d by too base a foe.

 197 Or if too busily they will inquire
       Into a victory which we disdain;
     Then let them know the Belgians did retire
       Before the patron saint[47] of injured Spain.

 198 Repenting England this revengeful day
       To Philip’s manes did an offering bring: 
     England, which first by leading them astray,
       Hatch’d up rebellion to destroy her King.