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We saw the event that followed our success ;
France, though pretending arms, pursued the peace,
Obliged by one sole treaty to restore
What twenty years of war had won before.
Enough for Europe has our Albion fought :
Let us enjoy the peace our blood has bought.
When once the Persian king was put to fight,
The weary Macedons refused to fight :
Themselves their own mortality confessed,
And left the son of Jove to quarrel for the rest.

Even victors are by victories undone :
Thus Hannibal, with foreign laurels won,
To Carthage was recalled, too late to keep his own.
While sore of battle, while our wounds are green,
Why should we tempt the doubtful die again?
In wars renewed uncertain of success,
Sure of a share, as umpires of the peace.

A patriot both the king and country serves,
Prerogative and privilege preserves.
Of each our laws the certain limit show;
One must not ebb, nor t’ other overflow.
Betwixt the Prince and Parliament we stand ;
The barriers of the State on either hand :
May neither overflow, for then they drown the land.
When both are full, they feed our blessed abode,
Like those that watered once the Paradise of God.

Some overpoise of sway by turns they share ;
In peace the people, and the prince in war:
Consuls of moderate powers in calms were made ;
When the Gauls came, one sole dictator swayed.

Patriots in peace assert the people's right,
With noble stubbornness resisting might :
No lawless mandates from the court receive,
Nor lend by force, but in a body give.
Such was your generous grandsire, free to grant?

In parliaments that weighed their Prince's want : * Your generous grandsire; Sir Erasmus Dryden, who was likewise the poet's grandfather. He was imprisoned under Charles I for refusing to contribute to the general loan in 1626.

But so tenacious of the common cause
As not to lend the king against his laws;
And, in a loathsome dungeon doomed to lie,
In bonds retained his birth-right liberty,
And shamed oppression, till it set him free.

O true descendant of a patriot line,
Who, while thou sharest their lustre, lend'st them thine,
Vouchsafe this picture of thy soul to see;
'Tis so far good as it resembles thee.
The beauties to the original I owe,
Which when I miss, my own defects I show.
Nor think the kindred Muses thy disgrace ;
A poet is not born in every race.
Two of a house few ages can afford,
One to perform, another to record.
Praiseworthy actions are by thee embraced ;
And ’tis my praise to make thy praises last.
For even when death dissolves our human frame,
The soul returns to Heaven from whence it came,
Earth keeps the body, verse preserves the fame,

VENI CREATOR SPIRITUS 1.

Creator Spirit, by whose aid
The world's foundations first were laid,
Come, visit every pious mind;
Come, pour thy joys on humankind;
From sin and sorrow set us free,
And make thy temples worthy thee.

O source of uncreated light,
The Father's promised Paraclete !
Thrice holy fount, thrice holy fire,
Our hearts with heavenly love inspire ;

1 This paraphrase of the Latin hymn popularly attributed to Charlemagne was first printed in Tonson's folio edition of Dryden's Poems, 1701.

496

TIIE ENGLISH POETS.

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Come, and thy sacred unction bring
To sanctify us, while we sing.

Plenteous of grace, descend from high,
Rich in thy sevenfold energy!
Thou strength of his Almighty hand,
Whose power does heaven and earth command.
Proceeding Spirit, our defence,
Who dost the gift of tongues dispense,
And crown'st thy gift with eloquence.

Refine and purge our earthy parts ;
But, oh, inflame and fire our hearts !
Our frailties help, our vice control,
Submit the senses to the soul ;
And when rebellious they are grown,
Then lay thy hand, and hold them down.

Chase from our minds the infernal foe,
And peace, the fruit of Love, bestow;
And lest our feet should step astray,
Protect and guide us in the way.

Make us eternal truths receive,
And practise all that we believe :
Give us thy self, that we may see
The Father and the Son by thee.

Immortal honour, endless fame,
Attend the Almighty Father's name :
The Saviour Son be glorified,
Who for lost man's redemption died :
And equal adoration be,
Eternal Paraclete, to thee!

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