To each Gentleman Soldier in the Company
of Captain John Hulls, Captain in
the YELLOW Regiment of Trained
Bands of London.
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ASsist me, all ye Muses, and inspire
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My humble Genius with a Martial Fire;
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Teach me in mighty Numbers how to raise
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A lasting Trophy to my Masters Praise.
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And LONDON, thou Emporium of our Land,
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Who dost the School of Arts and Arms Command;
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Thou Nursery of Souls, accept my Verse,
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While I the Glory of thy Sons rehearse.
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No Tow'rs nor Fortresses thy City needs,
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Nor Mercenary Soldiers, while it breeds
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A Race of Hero's fit for Noble Deeds.
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Does but the Rattling Drum to Battle call,
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They fly to Arms, the Word is One and All;
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Their Courage Steel, their Bodies are a Wall.
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And when the YELLOW Reg'ment we behold,
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With waving Ensigns Burnish'd o're with Gold,
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Like Caesars belov'd Legion, all declare,
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They are the Fav'rites of the God of War.
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Were there an Alexander to subdue
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Another World, he'd chuse such Men as you.
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In ev'ry Field you bear away the Prize
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In Marching, Firing, and for Exercise.
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Faign wou'd I strive to reach my Captain's Fame,
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And to the World his skill in War proclaim;
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But words are wanting, and the Theme's too high,
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My grateful thoughts in Admiration fly.
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May London and her King united be:
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He, Great in Pow'r; She, Rich in Loyalty;
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No Rebel dare the Bond of Peace destroy,
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But all be Love, and Gratitude, and everlasting Joy.
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