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MY LORD, 1
WHILE flattering Crowds officiously appear | |
| To give themselves, not you, an happy Year, | |
| And by the Greatness of their Presents prove | |
| How much they hope, but not how well they love, | |
| The Muses, who your early Courtship boast, | 5 |
| Though now your Flames are with their Beauty lost, | |
| Yet watch their Time, that, if you have forgot | |
| They were your Mistresses, the world may not: | |
| Decay’d by Time and Wars, they only prove | |
| Their former Beauty by your former Love, | 10 |
| And now present, as Ancient Ladies do | |
| That courted long at length are forc’d to woo. | |
| For still they look on you with such kind Eyes | |
| As those that see the Church’s Sovereign rise, | |
| From their own Order chose, in whose high State | 15 |
| They think themselves the second Choise of Fate. | |
| When our great Monarch into Exile went, | |
| Wit and Religion suffer’d Banishment. | |
| Thus once, when Troy was wrapt in Fire and Smoke, | |
| The helpless Gods their burning Shrines forsook; | 20 |
| They with the vanquished Prince and Party go | |
| And leave their Temples empty to the Foe. | |
| At length the Muses stand restor’d again | |
| To that great Charge which Nature did ordain, | |
| And their lov’d Druids seem reviv’d by Fate, | 25 |
| While you dispense the Laws and guide the State. | |
| The Nation’s Soul, our Monarch, does dispense | |
| Through you to us his vital Influence; | |
| You are the Channel where those Spirits flow | |
| And work them higher as to us they go. | 30 |
| In open Prospect nothing bounds our Eye | |
| Until the Earth seems join’d unto the Sky: | |
| So in this Hemisphere our utmost View | |
| Is only bounded by our King and you. | |
| Our Sight is limited where you are join’d | 35 |
| And beyond that no farther Heav’n can find. | |
| So well your Virtues do with his agree | |
| That, though your Orbs of different Greatness be, | |
| Yet both are for each other’s use dispos’d, | |
| His to enclose, and yours to be enclos’d: | 40 |
| Nor could another in your Room have been, | |
| Except an Emptiness had come between. | |
| Well may he then to you his Cares impart | |
| And share his Burden where he shares his Heart. | |
| In you his Sleep still wakes; his pleasures find | 45 |
| Their Share of Business in your labouring Mind. | |
| So, when the weary Sun his Place resigns, | |
| He leaves his Light and by Reflection shines. | |
| Justice, that sits and frowns where publick Laws | |
| Exclude soft Mercy from a private Cause, | 50 |
| In your Tribunal most herself does please; | |
| There only smiles because she lives at Ease, | |
| And, like young David, finds her Strength the more | |
| When disencumber’d from those Arms she wore. | |
| Heaven would your Royal Master should exceed | 55 |
| Most in that Virtue, which we most did need; | |
| And his mild Father, who too late did find | |
| All Mercy vain but what with Pow’r was join’d, | |
| His fatal Goodness left to fitter Times, | |
| Not to increase but to absolve our Crimes: | 60 |
| But when the Heir of this vast Treasure knew | |
| How large a Legacy was left to you, | |
| Too great for any Subject to retain, | |
| He wisely tied it to the Crown again: | |
| Yet, passing through your Hands, it gathers more, | 65 |
| As Streams through Mines bear Tincture of their Ore. | |
| While Emp’rick Politicians use Deceit, | |
| Hide what they give and cure but by a Cheat, | |
| You boldly show that Skill which they pretend | |
| And work by Means as noble as your End: | 70 |
| Which should you veil, we might unwind the Clue | |
| As Men do Nature, till we came to you. | |
| And as the Indies were not found before | |
| Those rich Perfumes which from the happy Shore | |
| The Winds upon their balmy Wings convey’d, | 75 |
| Whose guilty Sweetness first their world betray’d, | |
| So by your Counsels we are brought to view | |
| A rich and undiscover’d World in you. | |
| By you our Monarch does that Fame assure | |
| Which Kings must have, or cannot live secure: | 80 |
| For prosperous Princes gain the Subjects Heart, | |
| Who love that Praise in which themselves have part. | |
| By you he fits those Subjects to obey, | |
| As Heaven’s Eternal Monarch does convey | |
| His Pow’r unseen, and Man to his Designs | 85 |
| By his bright Ministers, the Stars, inclines. | |
| Our setting Sun from his declining Seat | |
| Shot Beams of Kindness on you, not of Heat: | |
| And, when his Love was bounded in a few | |
| That were unhappy that they might be true, | 90 |
| Made you the Favourite of his last sad Times, | |
| That is, a Sufferer in his Subjects’ Crimes: | |
| Thus those first Favours you receiv’d were sent, | |
| Like Heaven’s Rewards, in earthly Punishment. | |
| Yet Fortune, conscious of your Destiny, | 95 |
| Even then took Care to lay you softly by, | |
| And wrapt your Fate among her precious Things, | |
| Kept fresh to be unfolded with your Kings. | |
| Shown all at once, you dazzled so our Eyes | |
| As new-born Pallas did the Gods surprise; | 100 |
| When, springing forth from Jove’s new-closing Wound, | |
| She struck the warlike Spear into the Ground; | |
| Which sprouting Leaves did suddenly enclose, | |
| And peaceful Olives shaded as they rose. | |
| How strangely active are the Arts of Peace, | 105 |
| Whose restless Motions less than War’s do cease! | |
| Peace is not freed from Labour, but from Noise, | |
| And War more Force, but not more Pains employs. | |
| Such is the mighty Swiftness of your Mind | |
| That, like the Earth’s, it leaves our Sense behind, | 110 |
| While you so smoothly turn and roll our Sphere | |
| That rapid Motion does but Rest appear. | |
| For as in Nature’s Swiftness, with the Throng | |
| Of flying Orbs while ours is borne along, | |
| All seems at rest to the deluded Eye, | 115 |
| Mov’d by the Soul of the same Harmony, | |
| So, carried on by your unwearied Care, | |
| We rest in Peace and yet in Motion share. | |
| Let Envy then those Crimes within you see | |
| From which the happy never must be free; | 120 |
| Envy that does with Misery reside, | |
| The Joy and the Revenge of ruin’d Pride. | |
| Think it not hard, if at so cheap a Rate | |
| You can secure the Constancy of Fate, | |
| Whose kindness sent what does their Malice seem | 125 |
| By lesser ills the greater to redeem; | |
| Nor can we this weak Shower a Tempest call, | |
| But Drops of Heat that in the Sunshine fall. | |
| You have already wearied Fortune so, | |
| She cannot farther be your Friend or Foe; | 130 |
| But sits all breathless, and admires to feel | |
| A Fate so weighty that it stops her Wheel. | |
| In all things else above our humble Fate, | |
| Your equal Mind yet swells not into State, | |
| But like some Mountain in those happy Isles, | 135 |
| Where in perpetual Spring young Nature smiles, | |
| Your Greatness shows; no horror to affright, | |
| But Trees for Shade and Flowers to court the Sight; | |
| Sometimes the Hill submits itself a while | |
| In small Descents, which do its Height beguile; | 140 |
| And sometimes mounts, but so as Billows play, | |
| Whose rise not hinders but makes short our way. | |
| Your Brow, which does no fear of Thunder know, | |
| Sees rolling Tempests vainly beat below; | |
| And, like Olympus’ Top, the Impression wears | 145 |
| Of Love and Friendship writ in former Years. | |
| Yet, unimpair’d with Labours or with Time. | |
| Your Age but seems to a new Youth to climb, | |
| (Thus heavenly Bodies do our Time beget | |
| And measure Change, but share no part of it.) | 150 |
| And still it shall without a Weight increase, | |
| Like this New-year, whose Motions never cease; | |
| For since the glorious Course you have begun | |
| Is led by Charles, as that is by the Sun, | |
| It must both weightless and immortal prove, | 155 |
| Because the Centre of it is above. | |
