Though with those streams he no resemblance hold, Whose foam is amber and their gravel gold; His genuine and less guilty wealth t explore, Search not his bottom, but survey his shore.
Oh, could I flow like thee, and make thy stream My great example, as it is my theme! Though deep, yet clear; though gentle, yet not dull; Strong without rage; without oerflowing, full.
But whither am I strayed? I need not raise Trophies to thee from other mens dispraise; Nor is thy fame on lesser ruins built; Nor needs thy juster title the foul guilt Of Eastern kings, who, to secure their reign, Must have their brothers, sons, and kindred slain.1
On Mr. John Fletchers Works.
Note 1. Poets are sultans, if they had their will; For every author would his brother kill. Orrery: Prologues (according to Johnson).
Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne. Alexander Pope: Prologue to the Satires, line 197. [back]