The  now his  pours apace;
Th' embroider'd  who shows but half his Face,
And his refulgent  with Pow'rs combin'd,
Of broken Troops an easie Conquest find.
in wild Disorder seen,
With Throngs promiscuous strow the level Green
Thus when dispers'd a routed Army runs,
Of  Troops, and  Sable Sons,
With like Confusion different Nations fly,
In various Habits and of various Dye,
The pierc'd Battalions dis-united fall,
In Heaps on Heaps; one Fate o'erwhelms them all.