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For profperous princes gain their subjects heart,
Who love that praise in which themfelves have
By you he fits thofe fubjects to obey [part.
As heaven's eternal monarch does convey
His power unfeen, and man to his defigns,
By his bright minifters the ftars, inclines.

Our fetting fun, from his declining feat,
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,
Made you the favourite of his laft fad times,
That is a fufferer in his fubjects crimes:
Thus those first favours you receiv'd, were sent,
Like heaven's rewards in earthly punishment.
Yet fortune, confcious of your destiny,
Ev'n then took care to lay you softly by ;
And wrap'd your fate among her precious things,
Kept fresh to be unfolded with your king's.
Shewn all at once you dazzled fo our eyes,
As new-born Pallas did the gods surprize :
When, springing forth from Jove's new-clofing
wound,

She ftruck the warlike fpear into the ground: Which sprouting leaves did fuddenly inclose, And peaceful olives fhaded as they rofe.

How ftrangely active are the arts of peace, Whose reftlefs motions lefs than wars do cease! Peace is not freed from labour but from noife; And war more force, but not more pains employs :

Such is the mighty fwiftnefs of your mind,
That, like the earth, it leaves our fenfe behind,
While you fo fmoothly turn and rowl our fphere,
That rapid motion does but reit appear.
For, as in nature's swiftnefs, with the throng
Of flying orbs while ours is borne along,
All feems at reft to the deluded eye,
Mov'd by the foul of the fame harmony,
So, carried on by your unwearied care,
We reft in peace, and yet in motion fhare.

Let envy then those crimes within you fee,
From which the happy never must be free;
Envy, that does with misery refide,
The joy and the revenge of ruin'd pride.
Think it not hard, if at fo cheap a rate
You can fecure the conftancy of fate,
Whofe kindness fent what does their malice feem,
By leffer ills the greater to redeem.

Nor can we this weak shower a tempest call,
But drops of heat, that in the fun-fhine fall.
You have already wearied fortune so,
She cannot farther be your friend or foe;
But fits all breathlefs, and admires to feel
A fate fo weighty, that it ftops her wheel.
In all things elfe above our humble fate,
Your equal mind yet fwells not into state,
But, like fome mountain in thofe happy ifles,
Where in perpetual fpring young nature smiles,
Your greatness fhews: no horror to affright,
But trees for fhade, and flowers to court the fight:
Sometimes the hill submits itself a while

In fmail descents, which do its height beguile;
And fometimes mounts, but so as billows play,
Whose rise not hinders, but makes fhort our

way.

Your brow, which does no fear of thunder know,
Sees rowling tempefts vainly beat below;
And, like Olympus' top, th' impreffion wears
Of love and friendship writ in former years.
Yet, unimpair'd with labours, or with time,
Your age but feems to a new youth to climb.
Thus heavenly bodies do our time beget,
And meafure change, but fhare no part of it.
And still it fhall without a weight increase,
Like this new year, whofe motions never cease.
For fince the glorious course you have begun
Is led by Charles, as that is by the fun,
It must both weightless and immortal prove,
Because the centre of it is above.

SATIRE ON THE DUTCH.

WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1662.

As needy gallants, in the scrivener's hands,
Court the rich knaves that gripe their mortgag'd
The first fat buck of all the feafon's fent, [lands;
And keeper takes no fee in compliment ;
The dotage of fome Englishmen is fuch,
To fawn on thofe who ruin them, the Dutch.
They fhall have all, rather than make a war
With those who of the fame religion are.
The Straits, the Guinea-trade, the herrings too;
Nay, to keep friendship, they fhall pickle you.
Some are refolv'd not to find out the cheat,
But, cuckold-like, love them that do the feat.
What injuries foe'er upon us fall,
Yet full the fame religion answers all.
Religion wheedled us to civil war,
Drew English blood, and Dutchman's now would
Be gu'd no longer for you'll find it true [fpare.
They have no more religion, faith! than you.
intereft's the god they worship in their state,
And we, I take it, have not much of that.
Well monarchies may own religion's name,
But fates are athiests in their very frame.

They fhare a fin; and fuch proportions fall,
That, like a ftink, 'tis nothing to them all.
Think on their rapine, falfehood, cruelty, [be.
And that what once they were, they ftill would
To one well-born the affront in worse and more,
When he's abus'd and baffled by a boor.
With an ill grace the Dutch their mischiefs do,
They've both ill nature and ill manners too.
Well may they boast themselves an aucient nation;
For they were bred e'er manners were in fashion:
And their new commonwealth has fet them free
Only from honour and civility.

Venetians do not more uncouthly ride,
Than did their lubber state mankind beftride.
Their fway became them with as ill a mien,
As their own paunches fwell above their chin.
Yet is their empire no true growth but humour,
And only two kings' touch can cure the tumour.
As Cato fruits of Afric difplay;

Let us before our eyes their Indies lay:
All loyal English will like him conclude;
Let Cæfar live, and Carthage be fubdew'd,

To her Royal Highness

THE DUCHESS OF YORK,

ON THE

MEMORABLE VICTORY GAINED BY THE DUKE OVER THE HOLLANDERS

JUNE 3. 1665,

AND ON HER JOURNEY AFTERWARDS INTO THE NORTH.

MADAM,

WHEN. for our fakes, your hero you refign'd,
To fwelling feas, and every faithlefs wind;
When you releas'd his courage, and fet free
A valour fatal to the enemy;

You lodg'd your country's cares within your breaft
(The manfion where soft love should only rest):
And, e'er our foes abroad were overcome,
The nobleft conquest you had gain'd at home.
Ah, what concerns did both your fouls divide!
Your honour gave us what your love denied:
And 'twas for him much eafier to fubdue
Thofe foes he fought with, then to part from you.
That glorious day, which two fuch navies faw,
As each unmatch'd might to the world give law.
Neptune, yet doubtful whom he should obcy,
Held to them both the trident of the fea:
The winds were hufh'd, the waves in ranks were
As awfully as when God's people past : [caft,
Thofe, yet uncertain on whofe fails to blow,
Thefe, where the wealth of nations ought to flow,
Then with the Duke your Highness rul'd the
day:

}

While all the brave did his command obey,
The fair and pious under you did pray.
How powerful are chafte vows! the wind and tide
You brib'd to combat on the English fide.
Thus to your much lov'd lord you did convey
An unknown fuccour, fent the nearest way.
New vigour to his wearied arms you brought,
(So Mofes was upheld while Ifrael fought)

While, from afar, we heard the cannon play.
Like diftant thunder on a fhiny day.

For abfent friends we are afham'd to fear,
When we confider what you ventur'd there.
Ships, men, and arms, our country might restore ;
But fuch a leader could fupply no more.
With generous thoughts of conquest he did burn,
Yet fought not more to vanquish than return.
Fortune and victory he did purfue,

To bring them as the flaves to wait on you.
Thus beauty ravish'd the rewards of fame,
And the fair triumph'd when the brave o'ercame,
Then, as you meant to spread another way
By land your conquefts, far as his by fea,
Leaving our fouthern clime, you march'd along
The ftubborn North, ten thousand Cupids ftrong.
Like commons the nobility to refort,
In crowding heaps, to fill your moving court:
To welcome your approach the vulgar run,
Like fome new envoy from the distant fun,
And country beauties by their lovers go,
Bleffing themfelves, and wondering at the show.
So when the new-born Phenix first is feen,
Her feather'd fubjects all adorn their queen,
And while fhe makes her progrefs through the

Eaft,

From every grove her numerous train 's increas'd:
Each poet of the air her glory fings,
And round him the pleas'd audience clap their
wings.

ANNUS MIRABILIS:

THE

YEAR OF WONDERS,

M.DC.LXVI.

AN HISTORICAL POEM.

TO THE

METROPOLIS OF GREAT BRITAIN,

The most renowned and late flourishing

CITY OF LONDON,

IN ITS

REPRESENTAtives, the lord mayor and court of ALDERMEN, THE SHERIFffs, and coMMON COUNCIL of it.

As perhaps I am the first whoever presented a work of this nature to the metropolis of any nation; so it is likewise consonant to justice that he who was to give the first example of such a dedication, fhould begin it with that city, which has fet a pattern to all others of true loyalty invincible courage, and unfhaken conftancy. Other cities have been praised for the same virtues, but I am much deceived if any have fo dearly purchased their reputation; their fame has been won them by cheaper trials than an expensive, though neceffary war, a consuming peftilence, and a more confuming fire. To fubmit yourselves with that humility to the judgments of heaven, and at the fame time to raise yourselves with that vigour above all human enemic; to be combated at once from above and from below, to be struct down and to triumph I know not whether fuch trials have been ever paralleled in any nation: the refolution and fucceffes of them never can be. Never had prince er people more mutual reafon to love each other, if fuffering for each other can endear

:

affection. You have come together a pair of matchlefs lovers, through many difficulties; he, through a long exile, various traverses of fortune, and the interpofition of many rivals, who violently ravished and with-held you from him and certainly you have had your share in fufferings. But Providence has caft upon you want of trade, that you might appear bountiful to your country's neceffities; and the rest of your afflictions are not more the effects of God's displeasure (frequent examples of them having been in the reign of the moft excellent princes) than occafions for the manifefting of your Chriftian and civil virtues. To you therefore this year of wonders is juftly dedicated, because you have made it fo. You, who are to stand a wonder to all years and ages, and who have built yourselves an immortal monument on your own ruins. You are now a Phoenix in her afhes; and, as far as humanity can approach, a great emblem of the suffering Deity: but Heaven never made fo much piety and virtue to leave it miserable. I have heard, indeed, of fome virtuous perfons who have ended unfortunately, but never of any virtuous nation: Providence is engaged too deeply when the cause becomes fo general; and I cannot imagine it has refolved the ruin of that people at home, which it has blessed abroad with such fucceffes. I am therefore to conclude, that your sufferings are at an end; and that one part of my poem has not been more an history of your deftruction, than the other a prophecy of your restoration. The accomplishment of which happiness, as it is the wifh of every true Englishmen, so it is by none more paffionately desired, than by,

The greatest of your admirers,

And most humble of your fervants,

JOHN DRYDEN.

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