For from all tempers he could service draw;
The worth of each, with its alloy, he knew,
And, as the confidant of Nature, saw
How she complexions did divide and brew.
Or he their single virtues did survey,
By intuition, in his own large breast,
Where all the rich ideas of them lay,
That were the rule and measure to the rest.
When such heroic virtue heaven sets out,
The stars, like commons, sullenly obey;
Because it drains them when it comes about,
And therefore is a tax they seldom pay.
From this high spring our foreign conquests flow,
Which yet more glorious triumphs do portend; 110
Since their commencement to his arms they owe,
If springs as high as fountains may ascend.
He made us freemen of the continent,
Whom nature did like captives treat before;
To nobler preys the English lion sent,
And taught him first in Belgian walks to roar.
That old unquestion'd pirate of the land,
Proud Rome, with dread the fate of Dunkirk heard;
113 He made us freemen, &c.] We may be said to have been made freemen of the continent by the taking of Dunkirk, which was wrested from the Spaniards by the united forces of France and England, and delivered up to the latter in the beginning of 1658. Derrick.
And trembling wish'd behind more Alps to stand, Although an Alexander were her guard.
By his command we boldly cross'd the line,
And bravely fought where southern stars arise;
We trac'd the far-fetch'd gold unto the mine,
And that which brib'd our fathers made our prize.
Such was our prince; yet own'd a soul above 125
The highest acts it could produce to show:
Thus poor mechanic arts in public move,
Whilst the deep secrets beyond practice go.
Nor died he when his ebbing fame went less,
But when fresh laurels courted him to live:
He seem❜d but to prevent some new success,
As if above what triumphs earth could give.
His latest victories still thickest came,
As near the centre motion doth increase;
'Till he, press'd down by his own weighty name, 135 Did, like the vestal, under spoils decease.
But first the ocean as a tribute sent
The giant prince of all her watery herd;
And the isle, when her protecting genius went,
Upon his obsequies loud sighs conferr'd.
No civil broils have since his death arose,
But faction now by habit does obey;
And wars have that respect for his repose,
As winds for halcyons, when they breed at sea.
120 Although an Alexander, &c.] At this time Alexander VII. sat in the papal chair. D.
His ashes in a peaceful urn shall rest,
His name a great example stands, to show
How strangely high endeavours may be blest,
Where piety and valour jointly go.
ON THE HAPPY RESTORATION AND RETURN OF HIS SACRED MAJESTY CHARLES II. 1660.
Jam redit et Virgo, redeunt Saturnia regna. VIRG.
The last great age foretold by sacred rhymes
Renews its finish'd course; Saturnian times
Roll round again.
Now with a general peace the world was blest,
While ours, a world divided from the rest,
A dreadful quiet felt, and worser far
Than arms, a sullen interval of war:
Thus when black clouds draw down the lab'ring
Ere yet abroad the winged thunder flies,
A horrid stillness first invades the ear,
And in that silence we the tempest fear.
1 Now with a general] Waller, as well as Dryden, altered his sentiments, and changed his notes, on the Restoration; and when the king hinted to him the inferiority of his second poem to the former, answered, Poets, Sir, suc-. ceed better in fiction than in truth.' What notice Charles took of Dryden's Astræa we are ignorant. Dr. Joseph Warton.
The ambitious Swede, like restless billows tost,
On this hand gaining what on that he lost,
Though in his life he blood and ruin breath'd,
To his now guideless kingdom peace bequeath'd.
And heaven, that seem'd regardless of our fate,
For France and Spain did miracles create ;
Such mortal quarrels to compose in peace,
As nature bred, and interest did increase.
We sigh'd to hear the fair Iberian bride
Must grow a lily to the lily's side,
While our cross stars denied us Charles his bed,
Whom our first flames and virgin love did wed.
For his long absence church and state did
groan;
Madness the pulpit, faction seiz'd the throne:
Experienc'd age in deep despair was lost,
To see the rebel thrive, the loyal crost:
Youth, that with joys had unacquainted been,
Envied gray hairs that once good days had seen;
We thought our sires, not with their own content,
22 Madness the pulpit] From the numerous sermons preached before the parliament, particularly from 1640 to 1650, a variety of curious examples might be adduced to prove the justness of Dryden's assertion. And who can wonder at this assertion, when he is told that notifications of the following kind were affixed on walls and door posts : 'On such a day such a brewer's clerk exerciseth; such a tailor expoundeth; such a waterman teacheth!' See the Preface to Featly's Dippers Dipt, 4to. 1647. For a minute account of the ravings and rantings of many of the preachers before the parliament, the reader is referred to a collection of extracts from their discourses, entitled Evangelium Armatum, printed soon after the Restoration of King Charles II. T.
Had, ere we came to age, our portion spent.
Nor could our nobles hope their bold attempt,
Who ruin'd crowns would coronets exempt.
For when by their designing leaders taught
To strike at power which for themselves they sought,
The vulgar, gull'd into rebellion, arm'd;
Their blood to action by the prize was warm'd.
The sacred purple then and scarlet gown,
Like sanguine dye, to elephants was shown.
Thus when the bold Typhoeus scal'd the sky,
And forc❜d great Jove from his own heaven to fly,
(What king, what crown from treason's reach is
If Jove and Heaven can violated be?) [free,
The lesser gods, that shar'd his prosperous state,
All suffer'd in the exil'd Thunderer's fate.
The rabble now such freedom did enjoy,
As winds at sea, that use it to destroy :
Blind as the Cyclop, and as wild as he,
They own'd a lawless savage liberty.
Like that our painted ancestors so priz'd,
Ere empire's arts their breasts had civiliz'd.
How great were then our Charles his woes, who
Was forc'd to suffer for himself and us!
He, toss'd by fate, and hurried up and down,
Heir to his father's sorrows, with his crown,
Could taste no sweets of youth's desired age;
But found his life too true a pilgrimage.
Unconquer'd yet in that forlorn estate,
His manly courage overcame his fate.
His wounds he took, like Romans, on his breast,
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