But found his life too true a pilgrimage. Which by his virtue were with laurels dress'd. As souls reach heav'n while yet in bodies pent, 60 So did he live above his banishment. But those that 'gainst stiff gales laveering go, Must be at once resolv'd and skilful too. express, 70 Inur'd to suffer ere he came to reign, We light alone in dark afflictions find. Who yet a king alone in name and right, With hunger, cold, and angry Jove did fight; 100 Shock'd by a Covenanting League's vast pow'rs, As holy and as catholic as ours: known, Our lion now will foreign foes assail. drive, But what we could not pay for, freely give. The Prince of Peace would, like himself, confer A gift unhop'd without the price of war: 140 Yet, as he knew his blessing's worth, took care, That we should know it by repeated pray'r; As heav'n itself is took by violence. Not come: so, like the watchful travelour That by the moon's mistaken light did rise, Lay down again, and clos'd his weary eyes. "T was MONK whom Providence design'd to loose 151 Those real bonds false freedom did impose. The blessed saints that watch'd this turning The springs of motion from the seat of sense. Wise leeches will not vain receipts obtrude, While growing pains pronounce the humors crude; Deaf to complaints, they wait upon the ill, Till some safe crisis authorize their skill. Nor could his acts too close a vizard wear, To scape their eyes whom guilt had taught to fear, 180 TO MY HONOR'D FRIEND SIR ROBERT HOWARD complimentary poem is inserted in a entitled, Poems, viz. 1. A Panegyrick King. 2. Songs and Sonnets. 3. The Lady, a Comedy. 4. The Fourth Book rgil. 5. Statius his Achilleis, with Anons. 6. A Panegyrick to Generall Monck. he Honorable Sr Robert Howard. London, ted for Henry Herringman, 1660. It is ed John Driden. It forms the first proof of Dryden's intimacy with the family of Thomas, Earl of Berkshire, father of Sir Robert Howard and of the Lady Elizabeth Howard, the poet's future wife.] As there is music uninform'd by art In those wild notes, which, with a merry heart, The birds in unfrequented shades express, Who, better taught at home, yet please us less: So in your verse a native sweetness dwells, Which shames composure, and its art excels. Singing no more can your soft numbers grace Your easier odes, which for delight were penn❜d, Yet our instruction make their second end: We're both enrich'd and pleas'd, like them that woo At once a beauty and a fortune too. Who, like ill guardians, liv'd themselves at large, And, not content with that, debauch'd their charge. Like some brave captain, your successful pen Restores the exil'd to her crown again; 50 And gives us hope, that having seen the days When nothing flourish'd but fanatic bays, All will at length in this opinion rest: "A sober prince's government is best.” This is not all; your art the way has found To make improvement of the richest ground, That soil which those immortal laurels bore, That once the sacred Maro's temples wore. If funeral rites can give a ghost repose, Your kindness great Achilles doth confess; |