Miscellanies in Verse and Prose :: :: University of Virginia Library

While you, my Lord, by Birth and Virtue Great,
Depend not on the giddy Turns of State;
Nor aw'd by Threats, nor by vain Flatt'ry sway'd,
Can tamely see your Country's Cause betray'd;
But Brave and Wise with equal Merit claim
The Gen'ral's Triumph, and the Patriot's Fame:
In Camps ador'd, in Senates too rever'd;
By good Men honour'd, and by bad Men fear'd:
Tho' far retir'd from the ambitious Throng,
Soft Images alone employ my Song,
The Muse inamour'd with thy fair Renown,
Quits her lov'd Groves to seek the busy Town.

When with impartial Eyes we Courts survey,
And see what Insects in that Sun-shine play;
How Vice and Folly most Preferments share;
And what dull Rogues are thoughtless Monarchs Care;
What Mimick Nobles do the Robe Disgrace,
From Dunghils rais'd to Dignity and Place;
Such upstart Giants, who were Pigmies born,
Tempt not our Envy, but provoke our Scorn.
Those Titles only true Respect can give,
Which bold Exploits, or gen'rous Acts atchieve:
When Men, superior by a Right of Fate,
(But ah! how far unlike the Vulgar great)
With Dauntless Courage, and a Godlike Mind,
By Arts improve, or Arms relieve Mankind.
This be thy Praise,—who, while the Star you wear,
Are less distinguish'd by that Mark you bear,
Of Royal Favour, on your Noble Breast,
Than by a Soul of ev'ry Grace possess'd.

Aspiring, Gallant, Liberal, and Good,
Each Action blazons your illustrious Blood,
Which through successive Heroes still has run,
But ne'er before with such Advantage shone.

The Beams your Youthful Dawn did first display,
Foretold the Brightness of your Future Day.
Early you enter'd on the World's great Stage;
Saw, and despis'd the Follies of the Age:
Forsaking Pleasure, and disdaining Rest,
The Thirst of Glory fir'd your daring Breast.
Expos'd to Dangers, and inur'd to Care,
You first deserv'd the Lawrel which you wear;
For the Fair Prize you thought no Labours hard,
When Honour call'd, to suffer was Reward.
Unsatisfy'd, tho' foremost in the Race,
As you advanc'd, you quicken'd still your Pace;
Till long Experience, and superior Sense,
Gain'd you at last your just Preheminence.
Fortune, Fantastick in her Choice, we find
Rarely to those, whom Nature Favours, Kind:

But here Both Blessings we behold compleat,
In You those Winding Streams united meet.

By just Degrees acquainted with it's Weight,
Your Virtue sinks not underneath your State.
No Luxury betrays your Thoughts to Ease.
No Starts of Fancy on your Judgment seize.
No Pride insults; no Vanity prevails.
Justice and Candour poise the equal Scales.
Tho' Foe to all whose Pow'r affects Excess,
You stoop, like Heav'n, to hearken to Distress.
Kind without Affectation or Disguise,
Your Heart makes good the Promise of your Eyes.

False Heroes, rais'd by undeserv'd Success,
Jealous of others Merit, make it Less.
You, like the Sun, essentially are Bright,
Lend to the meaner Orbs a Portion of your Light:
Aid the young Vigour of a rising Name;
Point out the Quarry, and provoke to Fame.
Possess'd of all for which fond Mortals toil,
You fear no Rival, and can want no Foil.

In various Lands your Skill and Valour long
Supply'd fresh Wonders to the Poet's Song.
The proud Iberian, and the faithless Gaul:
Have seen their Tow'rs beneath your Thunder fall.
Where'er you steer'd, successful prosp'rous Gales
Favour'd your Course, and fill'd your spreading Sails.
But now the surly Drum, and sprightly Fife,
No longer wake the drowsy World to Strife:
Peace is ordain'd.—
And oh! that diff'rent Wars did not succeed,
And Civil Fury make the Nation bleed,
While Faction does in ev'ry Place declaim,
And Malice blots out the Records of Fame.
No Faith is kept, no Quarter is allow'd,
Among these Ruffian Champions of the Crowd.
Each hot-brain'd Fool pleads Merit, if he can
Draw his vile Pen, and stab some envy'd Man.

Enough my Muse—Restrain thy just Disdain—
Thy Bus'ness is to Praise, and not Complain.

And you, my Lord, in conscious Virtue bold,
Careless and unconcern'd the Storm behold,
Firm as the deathless Gods you keep your Course;
Drive through the Waves, and Baffle all their Force.
Vain their Attempts! who wou'd the Man invade,
Whose Arm must conquer, and whose Voice persuade.
(For Britain's Annals shall with Pride record
Your Tongue no less victorious than your Sword.
That pow'rful Eloquence must needs succeed,
Where Art and Nature both united plead:
Where Strength and Beauty do the Charm compose,
Keen as the Thistle, sweeter than the Rose.)
With double Weapons you your Foes engage,
Convince their Reason, or disarm their Rage.
Unlike the num'rous Herd of senseless Braves,
Who, Tools to Statesmen, or their Fortune's Slaves,
Hire out for low Rewards their Health and Ease,
The Plagues of War, or Lumber of a Peace;
In either State you challenge our Esteem;
The Soldier's Darling, and the Gownsman's Theme.

Minerva so at Athens was confess'd,
With Olive crown'd, or in bright Armour dress'd.

Amidst the Cares, the Hurry, and the Strife,
That fill the busy Scenes of Publick Life,
You in your soft Retirement Leisure find,
With gentler Arts to entertain your Mind.
Tho' train'd to nobler Wars, you don't disdain
To listen to the Combats of the Plain:
The Trumpet's Clangor, and the Canon's Noise
Drown not the Music of the Shepherd's Voice.
Few in this dull degen'rate Iron Age,
Who boast the Martial, share the Tuneful Rage.
In you great Nature shew'd herself profuse;
And form'd at once a Hero and a Muse.
To either Lawrel you have just pretence;
Your Country's Ornament, and her Defence.