The works of John Dryden :: :: University of Virginia Library

The works of John Dryden

Illustrated with notes, historical, critical, and explanatory, and a life of the author, by Sir Walter Scott

Dryden, John (1631-1700)

IX.

VOL. IX. POEMS, HISTORICAL AND POLITICAL.

XI.

XII.

XIII.

TRANSLATIONS FROM JUVENAL.

TRANSLATIONS FROM PERSIUS.

THE WORKS OF VIRGIL,

XIV, XV.

VOL. XIV., VOL. XV.

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HEROIC STANZAS CONSECRATED TO THE MEMORY OF HIS HIGHNESS OLIVER, LATE LORD PROTECTOR OF THIS COMMONWEALTH.

WRITTEN AFTER THE CELEBRATING OF HIS FUNERAL.

I

And now 'tis time; for their officious haste,
Who would before have borne him to the sky,
Like eager Romans, ere all rites were past,
Did let too soon the sacred eagle fly.

II

Though our best notes are treason to his fame,
Joined with the loud applause of public voice;
Since heaven, what praise we offer to his name,
Hath rendered too authentic by its choice;

III

Though in his praise no arts can liberal be,
Since they, whose muses have the highest flown,
Add not to his immortal memory,
But do an act of friendship to their own,

IV

Yet 'tis our duty, and our interest too,
Such monuments as we can build to raise;
Lest all the world prevent what we should do,
And claim a title in him by their praise.

V

How shall I then begin, or where conclude,
To draw a fame so truly circular?
For in a round, what order can be shewed,
Where all the parts so equal-perfect are?

VI

His grandeur he derived from heaven alone;
For he was great, ere fortune made him so:
And wars, like mists that rise against the sun,
Made him but greater seem, not greater grow.

VII

No borrowed bays his temples did adorn,
But to our crown he did fresh jewels bring;
Nor was his virtue poisoned soon as born,
With the too early thoughts of being king.

VIII

Fortune, (that easy mistress of the young,
But to her ancient servants coy and hard,)
Him at that age her favourites ranked among,
When she her best-loved Pompey did discard.

IX

He, private, marked the faults of others' sway,
And set as sea-marks for himself to shun;
Not like rash monarchs, who their youth betray
By acts their age too late would wish undone.

X

And yet dominion was not his design;
We owe that blessing, not to him, but heaven,
Which to fair acts unsought rewards did join;
Rewards, that less to him, than us, were given.

XI

Our former chiefs, like sticklers of the war,
First sought to inflame the parties, then to poise:
The quarrel loved, but did the cause abhor;
And did not strike to hurt, but make a noise.

XII

War, our consumption, was their gainful trade;
We inward bled, whilst they prolonged our pain;
He fought to end our fighting, and essayed
To stanch the blood, by breathing of the vein.

XIII

Swift and resistless through the land he past,
Like that bold Greek, who did the East subdue;
And made to battles such heroic haste,
As if on wings of victory he flew.

XIV

He fought, secure of fortune as of fame,
Till by new maps the island might be shewn,
Of conquests, which he strewed where'er he came,
Thick as the galaxy with stars is sown.

XV

His palms, though under weights they did not stand,
Still thrived; no winter could his laurels fade:
Heaven, in his portrait, shewed a workman's hand,
And drew it perfect, yet without a shade.

XVI

Peace was the prize of all his toil and care,
Which war had banished, and did now restore:
Bolognia's walls thus mounted in the air,
To seat themselves more surely than before.

XVII

Her safety rescued Ireland to him owes;
And treacherous Scotland, to no interest true,
Yet blest that fate which did his arms dispose
Her land to civilise, as to subdue.

XVIII

Nor was he like those stars which only shine,
When to pale mariners they storms portend;

He had his calmer influence, and his mien
Did love and majesty together blend.

XIX

'Tis true, his countenance did imprint an awe,
And naturally all souls to his did bow;
As wands of divination downward draw,
And point to beds where sovereign gold doth grow.

XX

When, past all offerings to Feretrian Jove,
He Mars deposed, and arms to gowns made yield;
Successful councils did him soon approve,
As fit for close intrigues, as open field.

XXI

To suppliant Holland he vouchsafed a peace,
Our once bold rival in the British main;
Now tamely glad her unjust claim to cease,
And buy our friendship with her idol, gain.

XXII

Fame of the asserted sea, through Europe blown,
Made France and Spain ambitious of his love;
Each knew that side must conquer he would own,
And for him fiercely, as for empire, strove.

XXIII

No sooner was the Frenchman's cause embraced,
Than the light Monsieur the grave Don outweighed:
His fortune turned the scale where'er 'twas cast,
Though Indian mines were in the other laid.

XXIV

When absent, yet we conquered in his right;
For, though some meaner artist's skill were shown,
In mingling colours, or in placing light,
Yet still the fair designment was his own.

XXV

For, from all tempers he could service draw;
The worth of each, with its alloy, he knew;
And, as the confidant of Nature, saw
How she complexions did divide and brew.

XXVI

Or he their single virtues did survey,
By intuition, in his own large breast;
Where all the rich ideas of them lay,
That were the rule and measure to the rest.

XXVII

When such heroic virtue heaven sets out,
The stars, like commons, sullenly obey;
Because it drains them when it comes about,
And therefore is a tax they seldom pay.

XXVIII

From this high spring our foreign conquests flow,
Which yet more glorious triumphs do portend;
Since their commencement to his arms they owe,
If springs as high as fountains may ascend.

XXIX

He made us freemen of the continent,
Whom nature did like captives treat before;
To nobler preys the English lion sent,
And taught him first in Belgian walks to roar.

XXX

That old unquestioned pirate of the land,
Proud Rome, with dread the fate of Dunkirk heard;
And, trembling, wished behind more Alps to stand,
Although an Alexander were her guard.

XXXI

By his command we boldly crossed the line,
And bravely fought where southern stars arise;
We traced the far-fetched gold unto the mine,
And that, which bribed our fathers, made our prize.

XXXII

Such was our prince; yet owned a soul above
The highest acts it could produce to show:
Thus, poor mechanic arts in public move,
Whilst the deep secrets beyond practice go.

XXXIII

Nor died he when his ebbing fame went less,
But when fresh laurels courted him to live:
He seemed but to prevent some new success,
As if above what triumphs earth could give.

XXXIV

His latest victories still thickest came,
As near the centre motion doth increase;
Till he, pressed down by his own weighty name,
Did, like the vestal, under spoils decease.

XXXV

But first the ocean as a tribute sent
That giant prince of all her wat'ry herd;
And the isle, when her protecting Genius went,
Upon his obsequies loud sighs conferred.

XXXVI

No civil broils have since his death arose,
But faction now by habit does obey;
And wars have that respect for his repose,
As winds for halcyons when they breed at sea.

XXXVII

His ashes in a peaceful urn shall rest;
His name a great example stands, to show,
How strangely high endeavours may be blessed,
Where piety and valour jointly go.