Defame those heroes who their yoke refuse,
And blast that honesty they cannot use;
The strength and safety of the crown destroy,
And the king's power against himself employ;
Affront his friends, deprive him of the brave;
Bereft of thefe, he must become their slave.
Men, like our money, come the most in play,
For being base, and of a coarse allay.
The richest medals, and the purest gold,
Of native value, and exactest mould,
By worth conceal'd, in private closets shine,
For vulgar use too precious and too ine;
Whilst tin and copper with new stamping bright,
Coin of base metal, counterfeit and light,
Do all the business of the nation's turn,
Rais'd in contempt, us'd and employ'd in scorn;
So shining virtues are for courts too bright,
Whose guilty actions fly the searching light :
Rich in themselves, disdaining to afpire,
Great without pomp, they willingly retire;
Give place to fools, whose rash misjudging sense
Increases the weak measures of their prince;
They blindly and implicitly run on,

Nor fee those dangers which the others shun:
Who, flow to act, each business duly weigh,
Advise with freedom, and with care obey;
With wisdom fatal to their interest, strive
To make their monarch lov'd, and nation thrive.
Such have no place where priests and women reign,
Who love fierce drivers, and a loofer rein.

AN AN

EPISTLE

OL

CHARLES EARL OF DORSET,

Occafioned by his Majesty's Victory in Ireland.

WHAT! shall the king the nation's genius raise,

And make us rival our great Edward's days;

Yet not one Muse, worthy a conqueror's name,
Attend his triumphs, and record his fame ?
Oh, Dorfet! you alone this fault can mend,
The Muses' darling, confident, and friend;
The poets are your charge, and, if unfit,
You should be fin'd to furnish abler wit;
Oblig'd to quit your ease, and draw again,
To paint the greatest hero, the best pen.
A hero, who thus early doth out-shine
The ancient honours of his glorious line;
And, foaring more fublimely to renown,
The memory of their pious triumphs drown;
Whose actions are deliver'd o'er to fame,
As types and figures of his greater name.
When fate fome mighty genius has design'd,
For the relief and wonder of mankind,
Nature takes time to answer the intent,
And climbs, by flow degrees, the steep afcent:

She toils and labours with the growing weight,
And watches carefully the steps of fate;
Till all the feeds of providence unite,
To fet the hero in a happy light;
Then, in a lucky and propitious hour,
Exerts her force, and calls forth all her power.

In Nassau's race the made this long essay;

Heroes and patriots prepar'd the way,
And promis'd, in their dawn, this brighter day;
A public fpirit diftinguish'd all the line,
Successive virtues in each branch did shine,
Till this last glory rose, and crown'd the great design.
Blest be his name! and peaceful lie his grave,
Who durft his native foil, lost Holland, fave!
But William's genius takes a wider scope,
And gives the injur'd, in all kingdoms, hope;
Born to fubdue insulting tyrants' rage,
The ornament and terror of the age;
The refuge where afflicted nations find
Relief from those oppressors of mankind,
Whom laws restrain not, and no oaths can bind.
Him, their deliverer Europe does confefs,
All tongues extol, and all religions bless ;
The Po, the Danube, Bætis, and the Rhine,
United in his praise, their wonder join;
While, in the public cause, he takes the field,
And shelter'd nations fight behind his shield.
His foes themselves dare not applause refuse :
And shall fuch actions want a faithful Muse?

}

Poets

Poets have this to boaft; without their aid,
The fresheft laurels nipp'd by malice, fade,
And virtue to oblivion is betray'd :
The proudest honours have a narrow date,
Unless they vindicate their names from fate.
But who is equal to sustain the part ?
Dryden has numbers, but he wants a heart;
Injoin'd a penance, which is too fevere
For playing once the fool, to perfevere.
Others, who knew the trade, have laid it down;
And, looking round, I find you stand alone.

How, Sir, can you, or any English Muse,
Our country's fame, our monarch's arms, refuse?
'Tis not my want of gratitude, but skill,
Makes me decline what I can ne'er fulfil.
I cannot fing of conquests as I ought,
And my breath fails to swell a lofty note.
I know my compass, and my Mufe's fize,
She loves to sport and play, but dares not rise;
Idly affects, in this familiar way,
In easy numbers loosely to convey,
What mutual friendship would at distance say.
Poets assume another tone and voice,
When victory 's their theme, and arms their choice.
To follow heroes in the chace of fame,

Afks force and heat, and fancy wing'd with flame,
What words can paint the royal warrior's face ?
What colours can the figure boldly raise,
When, cover'd o'er with comely duft and smoke,
He pierc'd the foe, and thickest squadrons broke?

}

And with this beauteous lady you may gain (This lady, that alone

Of greater value is than any throne)

Without that rapine, guilt, and hate,
By a calm and even fate,

That empire, which they did so short a while maintain.

N

OT all the threats or favour of a crown,
A prince's whifper, or a tyrant's frown,

Can awe the fpirit, or allure the mind,
Of him, who to strict honour is inclin'd.
Though all the pomp and pleasure that does wait
On public places, and affairs of state,
Should fondly court him to be bafe and great;
With even paffions, and with fettled face,
He would remove the harlot's false embrace.
Though all the storms and tempefts should arife,
That church-magicians in their cells advice,
And from their settled bafis nations tear,
He would unmov'd the mighty ruin bear;
Secure in innocence contemn them all,
And decently array'd in honours fall.

For this, brave Shrewsbury and Lumley's name
Shall stand the foremost in the list of fame;
Who first with steady minds the current broke,
id to the fuppliant monarch boldly spoke;

}

"Great