JOHN DRYDEN FROM HEROIC STANZAS CONSECRATED TO THE MEMORY OF HIS HIGHNESS, OLIVER, LATE LORD His grandeur he derived from Heav'n alone, No borrowed bays his temples did adorn, But to our crown he did fresh jewels bring; Fortune, that easy mistress of the young, But to her ancient servants coy and hard, He, private, marked the faults of others' sway, And yet dominion was not his design; We owe that blessing not to him but Heav'n, Rewards that less to him than us were giv'n. Our former chiefs, like sticklers of the war, And did not strike to hurt but make a noise. War, our consumption, was their gainful trade; To stanch the blood by breathing of the vein. Swift and resistless through the land he passed, Like that bold Greek who did the East subdue, And made to battles such heroic haste As if on wings of victory he flew. He fought, secure of fortune as of fame, Till by new maps the island might be shown 1758. 1759. 30 35 FROM ASTREA REDUX A POEM ON THE HAPPY RESTORATION AND RETURN OF HIS SACRED For his long absence Church and State did groan; ΤΟ To strike at pow'r which for themselves they sought, The vulgar, gulled into rebellion, armed, Their blood to action by the prize was warmed; The sacred purple then and scarlet gown, 15 Like sanguine dye to elephants, was shown. Thus when the bold Typhoeus scaled the sky, And forced great Jove from his own heav'n to fly If Jove and heav'n can violated be?), The lesser gods, that shared his prosp'rous state, All suffered in the exiled Thund'rer's fate. The rabble now such freedom did enjoy As winds at sea, that use it to destroy: 20 Blind as the Cyclops, and as wild as he, 25 They owned a lawless, savage liberty, Like that our painted ancestors so prized Ere empire's arts their breasts had civilised. How great were then our Charles his woes, who thus Was forced to suffer for himself and us! 30 He, tossed by fate, and hurried up and down, Heir to his father's sorrows with his crown, Could taste no sweets of youth's desired age, His wounds he took, like Romans, on his breast, 1660. INCANTATION You twice ten hundred deities, 35 40 1660. Thy breast, thy shoulders, and thy neck; 20 From thy sleepy mansion rise, And open thy unwilling eyes, While bubbling springs their music keep, 1664. SONG I feed a flame within, which so torments me Yet he for whom I grieve shall never know it; 5 My tongue does not betray, nor my eyes show it: Not a sigh nor a tear my pain discloses, But they fall silently, like dew on roses. Thus, to prevent my love from being cruel, On his eyes will I gaze, and there delight me; Nor can I fall more low, mounting no higher. ΙΟ 15 1667. FROM ANNUS MIRABILIS THE WAR WITH HOLLAND And now, reduced on equal terms to fight, The warlike Prince had severed from the rest And flew so home, they could not rise again. 5 Already battered by his lee they lay; In vain upon the passing winds they call; ΤΟ Their opened sides receive a gloomy light, Dreadful as day let in to shades below; Without, grim Death rides barefaced in their sight, 15 When one dire shot, the last they could supply, And this offends not and those fear no more. So have I seen some fearful hare maintain With his lolled tongue he faintly licks his prey; His warm breath blows her flix up as she lies; 1666. 1667. THE GREAT LONDON FIRE The diligence of trades, and noiseful gain, In this deep quiet, from what source unknown, 5 Then in some close-pent room it crept along, And, smould'ring as it went, in silence fed; Till th' infant monster, with devouring strong, Walked boldly upright with exalted head. ΙΟ |