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To the KING.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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To the KING.

By Sir JOHN DENHAM.
Great Prince! and so much Greater as more VVise;
Sweet as our Life, and dearer than our Eyes,
VVhat Servants will conceal, and Councels spare
To tell, the Painter and the Poet dare.
And the assistance of an Heavenly Muse
And Pencil represent the Crimes abstruse.
Here needs no Fleet, no Sword, no Forreign Foe;
Only let Vice be damn'd, and Justice flow.

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Shake but, like Jove, thy Locks divine, and frown,
Thy Scepter will suffice to guard thy Crown.
Hark to Cassandra's Song, e're fate destroy
By thine lowd Navy's wooden Horse, thy Troy.
As our Apollo, from the Tumults wave,
And Gentle Calms, though but in Oars, will save,
So Philomel her sad Embroidery strung,
And vocal Silks tun'd with her Needles Tongue.
The Pictures dumb in Colours loud reveal'd
The Tragedies at Court so long conceal'd;
But when restor'd to voice inclos'd with wings
To Woods and Groves what once the Painter sings.