from Imitations of Horace
by Alexander Pope
In ANNA'S Wars, a Soldier poor and old,
Had dearly earn'd a little purse of Gold:
Tir'd with a tedious March, one luckless night,
He slept, poor Dog! and lost it, to a doit.
This put the Man in such a desp'rate Mind,
Between Revenge, and Grief, and Hunger join'd,
Against the Foe, himself, and all Mankind,
He leapt the Trenches, scal'd a Castle-Wall,
Tore down a Standard, took the Fort and all.
"Prodigious well!" his great Commander cry'd,
Gave him much Praise, and some Reward beside.
Next pleas'd his Excellence a Town to batter;
(Its Name I know not, and it's no great matter)
"Go on, my Friend (he cry'd) see yonder Walls!
"Advance and conquer! go where Glory calls!
"More Honours, more Rewards, attend the Brave"—
Don't you remember what Reply he gave?
"D'ye think me, noble Gen'ral, such a Sot?