 | Poems on Affairs of State |  |
To the KING.
By Sir JOHN DENHAM.
Imperial
Prince! King of the Seas and Isles!
Dear Object of our Joy, and Heaven's smiles!
What bootes it that thy Light doth gild our days,
And we lie basking in thy milder Rays,
While swarms of Insects, from thy warmth begun?
Our Land devour, and intercept our Sun?
Thou, like Joves Minos rul'st a greater Creet;
And for its hundred Cities, Count'st thy Fleet.
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Who builds the Butt, a Lab'rinth and a Cow?
If thou art Minos, be a Judge severe,
And in's own Maze confine the Engineer.
O may our Sun, since he too nigh presumes,
Melt the soft Wax wherewith he imps his plumes
And may he falling leave his hated Name
Unto these Seas his War hath set on flame!
From that Enchanter having clear'd thine Eyes,
Thy native sight will pierce within the Skies,
And view those Kingdoms calm with Joy and Light,
Where's Universal Triumph, but no Fight.
Since both from Heav'n thy Race and Pow'r descend,
Rule by its pattern there to reascend
Let Justice onely awe, and Battel cease:
Kings are but Cards in War; they're Gods in Peace.
| Poems on Affairs of State | |