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Part must be left, a fund when foes invade ;
peace both parties want, is like to last:
Observe the war, in ev'ry annual course;
Oblig'd, by one fole treaty, to restore
Ev’n victors are by victories undone ;
A patriot both the king and country ferves : Prerogative, and privilege, preserves : Of each our laws the certain limit show; One must not ebb, nor t'other overflow : Betwixt the prince and parliament we stand ; The barriers of the state on either hand : May neither overflow, for then they drown the
land. When both are full, they feed our bless'd abode; Like those that water'd once the paradise of God.
Some overpoise of fway, by turns, they share ; In peace
the people, and the prince in war ; Consuls of mod'rate power in calms were made; When the Gauls came, one fole dictator sway'd. * Patriots, in peace, affert the people's right; With noble ftubborness refifting might: No lawless mandates from the court receive, Nor lend by force, but in a body give. Such was your gen'rous grandfire ; free to grant In parliaments, that weigh’d their prince's want : But fo tenacious of the common cause, As not to lend the king against his laws. And, in a loathsome dungeon doom'd to lie, In bonds retain'd his birthright liberty, And Tham’d oppression, till it set him free.
O true defcendent of a patriot line, Who, while thou shar'st their lustre, lend'st them
thine, Vouchsafe this picture of thy soul to see; 'Tis so far good, as it resembles thee : The beauties to th'original I owe ; Which when I miss, my own defects I show : Nor think the kindred muses thy disgrace: A poet is not born in ey’ry race.
Two of a house few ages can afford;
EPISTLE the FOURTEENTH.
Sir GODFREY KNELLER,
Principal PAINTER to his MAJESTY.
NCE I beheld the fairest of her kind,
mind : True, she was dumb; for nature gaz'd so long, Pleas'd with her work, that she forgot her tongue; But, smiling, said, She still shall gain the prize; I only have transferr'd it to her
eyes. Such are thy pictures, Kneller : such thy skill, That nature seems obedient to thy will;
Comes out, and meets thy pencil in the draught;
Lives there, and wants but words to speak her co
Shadows are but privations of the light;
Demanding fouls, and loosen'd from the frame. [ Prometheus, were he here, would cast
But vulgar hands may vulgar likeness raise ;