John Dryden - Delphi Poets Series Read online

  By that same mildness which your Fathers Crown

  Before did ravish, shall secure your own.

  Not ty’d to rules of Policy, you find 260

  Revenge less sweet than a forgiving mind.

  Thus, when th’ Almighty would to Moses give

  A sight of all he could behold and live;

  A voice before his Entry did proclaim

  Long-Suffring, Goodness, Mercy in his Name. 265

  Your Pow’r to Justice doth submit your Cause,

  Your Goodness only is above the Laws;

  Whose rigid Letter, while pronounc’d by you,

  Is softer made. So winds that tempests brew

  When through Arabian Groves they take their flight 270

  Made wanton with rich Odours, lose their spight.

  And as those Lees, that trouble it, refine

  The agitated Soul of Generous Wine,

  So tears of Joy for your returning spilt,

  Work out and expiate our former Guilt. 275

  Methinks I see those Crowds on Dover’s Strand.

  Who in their haste to welcom you to Land

  Choak’d up the Beach with their still growing store,

  And made a wilder Torrent on the Shore:

  While, spurr’d with eager thoughts of past Delight, 280

  Those who had seen you court a second sight;

  Preventing still your Steps and making hast

  To meet you often whereso-e’re you past.

  How shall I speak of that triumphant Day

  When you renew’d the expiring Pomp of May! 285

  (A month that owns an Interest in your Name:

  You and the Flow’rs are its peculiar Claim.)

  That Star, that at your Birth shone out so bright,

  It stain’d the duller Suns Meridian light,

  Did once again its potent Fires renew, 290

  Guiding our Eyes to find and worship you.

  And now times whiter Series is begun,

  Which in soft Centuries shall smoothly run;

  Those Clouds that overcast your Morn shall fly,

  Dispell’d to farthest corners of the Sky. 295

  Our nation, with united Int’rest blest,

  Not now content to poize, shall sway, the rest.

  Abroad your Empire shall no Limits know,

  But like the Sea in boundless Circles flow.

  Your much lov’d Fleet shall with a wide Command 300

  Besiege the petty Monarchs of the Land:

  And as Old Time his Off-spring swallow’d down,

  Our Ocean in its depths all Seas shall drown.

  Their wealthy Trade from Pyrate’s Rapine free,

  Our Merchants shall no more Advent’rers be: 305

  Nor in the farthest East those Dangers fear

  Which humble Holland must dissemble here.

  Spain to your gift alone her Indies owes;

  For what the Pow’rful takes not he bestows.

  And France that did an Exiles presence Fear 310

  May justly apprehend you still too near.

  At home the hateful names of Parties cease

  And factious Souls are weary’d into peace.

  The discontented now are only they

  Whose Crimes before did your Just Cause betray: 315

  Of those your Edicts some reclaim from sins,

  But most your Life and Blest Example wins.

  Oh happy Prince whom Heav’n hath taught the way

  By paying Vows to have more Vows to pay!

  Oh Happy Age! Oh times like those alone, 320

  By Fate reserv’d for great Augustus throne!

  When the joint growth of Arms and Arts foreshew

  The World a Monarch, and that Monarch You.

  To His Sacred Majesty.

  A Panegyrick on His Coronation

  1661

  IN that wild Deluge where the world was drownd,

  When life and sin one common Tombe had found,

  The first small prospect of a rising hill

  With various notes of Joy the Ark did fill:

  Yet when that flood in its own depths was drown’d, 5

  It left behind it false and slipp’ry ground,

  And the more solemn pomp was still deferr’d

  Till new-born Nature in fresh looks appear’d;

  Thus (Royall Sir,) to see you landed here

  Was cause enough of triumph for a year: 10

  Nor would your care those glorious joyes repeat

  Till they at once might be secure and great:

  Till your kind beams by their continu’d stay

  Had warm’d the ground and call’d the Damps away.

  Such vapours, while your pow’rful Influence dries, 15

  Then soonest vanish when they highest rise.

  Had greater hast these sacred rights prepar’d,

  Some guilty Moneths had in your Triumphs shar’d:

  But this untainted year is all your own,

  Your glory’s may without our crimes be shown. 20

  We had not yet exhausted all our store,

  When you refresh’d our joyes by adding more:

  As Heav’n, of old, dispenc’d Cœlestial dew,

  You gave us Manna and still give us new.

  Now our sad ruines are remov’d from sight, 25

  The Season too comes fraught with new delight;

  Time seems not now beneath his years to stoop,

  Nor doe his wings with sickly feathers droop:

  Soft western winds waft o’re the gaudy spring,

  And open’d Scenes of flow’rs and blossoms bring 30

  To grace this happy day, while you appear

  Not King of us alone but of the year.

  All eyes you draw, and with the eyes the heart,

  Of your own pomp your self the greatest part:

  Loud shouts the Nations happiness proclaim, 35

  And Heav’n this day is feasted with your Name.

  Your Cavalcade the fair Spectators view,

  From their high standings, yet look up to you.

  From your brave train each singles out a Prey

  And longs to date a Conquest from your day. 40

  Now charg’d with blessings while you seek repose,

  Officious slumbers haste your eyes to close;

  And glorious dreams stand ready to restore

  The pleasing shapes of all you saw before.

  Next to the sacred Temple you are led, 45

  Where waits a Crown for your more sacred Head:

  How justly from the Church that Crown is due,

  Preserv’d from ruine and restor’d by you!

  The gratefull quire their harmony employ

  Not to make greater, but more solemn joy. 50

  Wrapt soft and warm your Name is sent on high,

  As flames do on the wings of Incense fly:

  Musique herself is lost, in vain she brings

  Her choisest notes to praise the best of Kings:

  Her melting strains in you a tombe have found 55

  And lye like Bees in their own sweetnesse drowned.

  He that brought peace and discord could attone,

  His Name is Musick of itself alone.

  Now while the sacred oyl anoints your head,

  And fragrant scents, begun from you, are spread 60

  Through the large Dome, the peoples joyful Sound

  Sent back, is still preserv’d in hallow’d ground:

  Which in one blessing mixt descends on you,

  As heightned spirits fall in richer dew.

  Not that our wishes do increase your store, 65

  Full of your self, you can admit no more:

  We add not to your glory, but employ

  Our time like Angels in expressing Joy

  Nor is it duty or our hopes alone

  Create that joy, but full fruition: 70

  We know those blessings which we must possesse

  And judge of future by past happinesse,r />
  No promise can oblige a Prince so much

  Still to be good, as long to have been such.

  A noble Emulation heats your breast, 75

  And your own fame now robbs you of your rest:

  Good actions still must be maintain’d with good,

  As bodies nourish’d with resembling food.

  You have already quench’d sedition’s brand;

  And zeal (which burnt it) only warms the Land. 80

  The jealous Sects, that dare not trust their cause

  So farre from their own will as to the Laws,

  You for their Umpire and their Synod take,

  And their appeal alone to Cæsar make.

  Kind Heav’n so rare a temper did provide 85

  That guilt repenting might in it confide

  Among our crimes oblivion may be set,

  But ’tis our Kings perfection to forget.

  Virtues unknown to these rough Northern climes

  From milder heav’ns you bring, without their crimes. 90

  Your calmnesse does no after Storms provide

  Nor seeming patience mortal anger hide.

  When Empire first from families did spring,

  Then every Father govern’d as a King;

  But you that are a Soveraign Prince, allay 95

  Imperial pow’r with your paternal sway.

  From those great cares when ease your soul unbends,

  Your Pleasures are design’d to noble ends:

  Born to command the Mistress of the Seas,

  Your Thoughts themselves in that blue Empire please. 100

  Hither in Summer ev’nings you repair

  To take the fraischeur of the purer air:

  Undaunted here you ride when Winter raves,

  With Cæsars heart that rose above the waves.

  More I could sing, but fear my Numbers stays; 105

  No Loyal Subject dares that courage praise.

  In stately Frigats most delight you find,

  Where well-drawn Battels fire your martial mind.

  What to your cares we owe is learnt from hence,

  When ev’n your pleasures serve for our defence. 110

  Beyond your Court flows in the admitted tide,

  Where in new depths the wond’ring fishes glide:

  Here in a Royal bed the waters sleep,

  When tir’d at Sea within this bay they creep.

  Here the mistrustfull foul no harm suspects, 115

  So safe are all things which our King protects.

  From your lov’d Thames a blessing yet is due,

  Second alone to that it brought in you;

  A Queen, from whose chast womb, ordain’d by Fate,

  The souls of Kings unborn for bodies wait. 120

  It was your Love before made discord cease;

  Your love is destined to your Countries peace.

  Both Indies (Rivalls in your bed) provide

  With Gold or Jewels to adorn your bride.

  This to a mighty King presents rich ore 125

  While that with Incense does a God implore.

  Two Kingdoms wait your Doom; and, as you choose,

  This must receive a Crown or that must loose.

  Thus from your Royal Oke, like Jove’s of old,

  Are Answers sought, and Destinies fore-told: 130

  Propitious Oracles are beg’d with Vows

  And Crowns that grow upon the sacred boughs.

  Your Subjects, while you weigh the Nations fate,

  Suspend to both their doubtfull love or hate:

  Choose only, (Sir,) that so they may possesse 135

  With their own peace their Childrens happinesse.

  To my Lord Chancellor, presented on New-Years-Day, 1662

  MY LORD,

  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;