'Till soft each eye salubrious slumbers close,
405 They sink unconscious in serene repose.
No dreary dream, nor morphean dozens steep
The Soldiers senses in abortive sleep,
Soon as the chearly Goddess of the morn,
From her light pinion sheds the silver dawn,
410 Each placid brow the kind oblivion flies,
And fresh as day th' invigor'd Warriors rise.

As our Author through the course of his Performance
does great honour to the bravery and military skill
of the British Soldiery, of which we have given but
a single instance, it is but just to say, that he no less
respects the free and martial spirit of the Colony
Troops ;--we think this sufficiently exemplified by
the following picture of the American Soldier, and
his Indian Auxiliary, taken from the third Book.

350 No art excites, nor martial musick's charms,
The Soldier's soul to deeds of glory warms,
Nor hostile arms emblaze the pompful plain,
Nor guards their naked front the brazen train,
Untutor'd these in war's experienc'd school,
355 By nature brave, and unoblig'd by rule,
Their sable arms oft borne in fields of chace,
In hostile port manly shoulders grace,
    Their