 | Poems on several occasions |  |
480
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE EARL OF OXFORD.
UPON HIS NOT APPEARING AT ST. JAMES'S, 1724.
While thick to court transported Tories run,
Spurn'd by the sire, scarce smiled on by the son,
Freed from an iron reign's continued curse,
Expecting better, and secure from worse;
Beyond their principles now passive grown,
They lick the spittle which the Whigs have thrown;
Embrace the authors of their former fears,
Forgetting in an hour the spoil of years:
Reserved and silent you at distance stand,
Nor haste to kiss the oft-extended hand.
Their compliments and hopes let others show;
And if they must be laugh'd at, be it so.
Spurn'd by the sire, scarce smiled on by the son,
Freed from an iron reign's continued curse,
Expecting better, and secure from worse;
Beyond their principles now passive grown,
They lick the spittle which the Whigs have thrown;
Embrace the authors of their former fears,
Forgetting in an hour the spoil of years:
Reserved and silent you at distance stand,
Nor haste to kiss the oft-extended hand.
481
And if they must be laugh'd at, be it so.
If George, ascending his imperial throne,
With decent grief a father may bemoan,
Let not his partial greatness e'er require
That duteous Oxford should neglect his sire;
A sire who left a heritage more fair
Than hoarded wealth or sceptres to his heir.
A Harley seldom treads this mortal stage;
But kings and misers rise in every age.
He used for public good the public store,
Still daring to be just and to be poor;
Firm to his country's and religion's cause,
True to her ancient faith and ancient laws.
He due regard to learning's seat profess'd;
Nor awed with threatenings, nor with troops oppress'd;
Skilful through suppliant crowds to force his way,
And call retiring merit into day.
No narrow views his mighty soul confined,
Friend to the world, and patron to mankind.
He join'd in glorious peace contending kings,
And pluck'd the Austrian eagle's spreading wings.
He knew the rage of faction's tide to stem,
And gave the Brunswick race the diadem.
Graved in your bosom let his image dwell,
Great while he stood, but greater when he fell.
Fearless, serene, he look'd on danger nigh;
Let Harcourt double, and let Saint-John fly.
Against the storm he turn'd his steady face,
And scorn'd the shelter of an Act of Grace;
Let Whigs by mean retreat their gains insure,
Conscious they need the pardons they procure.
'Twas vain, O George, that mercy to refuse
Which Harley could not want and would not use;
To' insert his name who, faithful to thy line,
Amongst the British kings inserted thine!
What prince so vast a benefit would own?
Thou couldst not pardon; for he gave thy crown!
Fairly rewarded he,—to death pursued:
O glorious act of German gratitude!
With decent grief a father may bemoan,
Let not his partial greatness e'er require
That duteous Oxford should neglect his sire;
A sire who left a heritage more fair
Than hoarded wealth or sceptres to his heir.
A Harley seldom treads this mortal stage;
But kings and misers rise in every age.
He used for public good the public store,
Still daring to be just and to be poor;
Firm to his country's and religion's cause,
True to her ancient faith and ancient laws.
He due regard to learning's seat profess'd;
Nor awed with threatenings, nor with troops oppress'd;
Skilful through suppliant crowds to force his way,
And call retiring merit into day.
No narrow views his mighty soul confined,
Friend to the world, and patron to mankind.
He join'd in glorious peace contending kings,
And pluck'd the Austrian eagle's spreading wings.
He knew the rage of faction's tide to stem,
And gave the Brunswick race the diadem.
Graved in your bosom let his image dwell,
Great while he stood, but greater when he fell.
Fearless, serene, he look'd on danger nigh;
Let Harcourt double, and let Saint-John fly.
482
And scorn'd the shelter of an Act of Grace;
Let Whigs by mean retreat their gains insure,
Conscious they need the pardons they procure.
'Twas vain, O George, that mercy to refuse
Which Harley could not want and would not use;
To' insert his name who, faithful to thy line,
Amongst the British kings inserted thine!
What prince so vast a benefit would own?
Thou couldst not pardon; for he gave thy crown!
Fairly rewarded he,—to death pursued:
O glorious act of German gratitude!
To greet their power how nobly you disdain'd
Who strove with Oxford's murder to be stain'd;
To George, with supple fawning, scorn to bow!
Persist; remember you are Oxford now.
Faithful, but never cringing, to the throne,
Forgive his father, not forget your own.
Who strove with Oxford's murder to be stain'd;
To George, with supple fawning, scorn to bow!
Persist; remember you are Oxford now.
Faithful, but never cringing, to the throne,
Forgive his father, not forget your own.
| Poems on several occasions | |