The Works of the Reverend and Learned Isaac Watts, D. D. Containing, besides his Sermons, and Essays on miscellaneous subjects, several additional pieces, Selected from his Manuscripts by the Rev. Dr. Jennings, and the Rev. Dr. Doddridge, in 1753: to which are prefixed, memoirs of the life of the author, compiled by the Rev. George Burder. In six volumes |
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True Monarchy.
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 | The Works of the Reverend and Learned Isaac Watts, D. D. |  |
True Monarchy.
1701.
The rising year beheld th'imperious Gaul
Stretch his dominion, while a hundred towns
Crouch'd to the victor; but a steady soul
Stands firm on its own base, and reigns as wide,
As absolute; and sways ten thousand slaves,
Lusts and wild fancies with a sovereign hand.
Stretch his dominion, while a hundred towns
Crouch'd to the victor; but a steady soul
Stands firm on its own base, and reigns as wide,
As absolute; and sways ten thousand slaves,
Lusts and wild fancies with a sovereign hand.
We are a little kingdom; but the man
That chains his rebel will to reason's throne,
Forms it a large one, whilst his royal mind
Makes heav'n its council, from the rolls above
Draws his own statutes, and with joy obeys.
That chains his rebel will to reason's throne,
Forms it a large one, whilst his royal mind
Makes heav'n its council, from the rolls above
Draws his own statutes, and with joy obeys.
'Tis not a troop of well-appointed guards
Create a monarch, not a purple robe
Dy'd in the people's blood, not all the crowns
Or dazzling tiars that bend about the head,
Tho' gilt with sun-beams and set round with stars.
A monarch he that conquers all his fears,
And treads upon them; when he stands alone,
Makes his own camp; four guardian virtues wait
His nightly slumbers, and secure his dreams.
Now dawns the light; he ranges all his thoughts
In square battalions, bold to meet th'attacks
Of time and chance, himself a num'rous host
All eye, all ear, all wakeful as the day,
Firm as a rock, and moveless as the centre.
Create a monarch, not a purple robe
Dy'd in the people's blood, not all the crowns
Or dazzling tiars that bend about the head,
Tho' gilt with sun-beams and set round with stars.
A monarch he that conquers all his fears,
And treads upon them; when he stands alone,
Makes his own camp; four guardian virtues wait
His nightly slumbers, and secure his dreams.
Now dawns the light; he ranges all his thoughts
In square battalions, bold to meet th'attacks
Of time and chance, himself a num'rous host
All eye, all ear, all wakeful as the day,
Firm as a rock, and moveless as the centre.
In vain the harlot, pleasure, spreads her charms,
To lull his thoughts in luxury's fair lap,
To sensual ease, (the bane of little kings,
Monarchs whose waxen images of souls
Are moulded into softness) still his mind
Wears its own shape, nor can the heavenly form
Stoop to be model'd by the wild decrees
Of the mad vulgar, that unthinking herd.
To lull his thoughts in luxury's fair lap,
To sensual ease, (the bane of little kings,
Monarchs whose waxen images of souls
Are moulded into softness) still his mind
Wears its own shape, nor can the heavenly form
Stoop to be model'd by the wild decrees
Of the mad vulgar, that unthinking herd.
He lives above the crowd, nor hears the noise
Of wars and triumphs, nor regards the shouts
Of popular applause, that empty sound;
Nor feels the flying arrows of reproach,
Or spite or envy. In himself secure,
Wisdom his tower, and conscience is his shield,
His peace all inward, and his joys his own.
Of wars and triumphs, nor regards the shouts
Of popular applause, that empty sound;
Nor feels the flying arrows of reproach,
Or spite or envy. In himself secure,
Wisdom his tower, and conscience is his shield,
His peace all inward, and his joys his own.
Now my ambition swells, my wishes soar,
This be my kingdom: Sit above the globe
My rising soul, and dress thyself around
And shine in virtue's armour, climb the height
Of wisdom's lofty castle, there reside
Safe from the smiling and the frowning world.
This be my kingdom: Sit above the globe
My rising soul, and dress thyself around
And shine in virtue's armour, climb the height
Of wisdom's lofty castle, there reside
Safe from the smiling and the frowning world.
Yet once a day drop down a gentle look
On the great mole-hill, and with pitying eye
Survey the busy emmets round the heap,
Crowding and bustling in a thousand forms
Of strife and toil, to purchase wealth and fame,
A bubble or a dust: Then call thy thoughts
Up to thyself to feed on joys unknown,
Rich without gold, and great without renown.
On the great mole-hill, and with pitying eye
Survey the busy emmets round the heap,
Crowding and bustling in a thousand forms
Of strife and toil, to purchase wealth and fame,
A bubble or a dust: Then call thy thoughts
Up to thyself to feed on joys unknown,
Rich without gold, and great without renown.
| The Works of the Reverend and Learned Isaac Watts, D. D. | |