II.

Tho our best notes are treafon to his fame,
Join'd with the loud applaufe of public voice;
Since heaven, what praise we offer to his name,
Hath render'd too authentic by its choice.
III.

Tho in his praise no arts can liberal be,

Since they, whofe mufes 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 raife; Left 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 fo truly circular?

For in a round what order can be shew'd,
Where all the parts fo equal perfect are?

VI.

His grandeur he deriv'd from heav'n alone;

For he was great ere fortune made him so: And wars, like mifts that rise against the fun,

Made him but greater feem, not greater grow,

VII.

No borrow'd bays his temples did adorn,
But to our crown he did fresh jewels bring;
Nor was his virtue poifon'd foon as born,

With the too early thoughts of being king.
VIII.

Fortune, that eafy mistress to the young,

But to her ancient fervants coy and hard, Him at that age her favourites rank'd among, When she her beft-lov'd Pompey did discard. IX.

He private mark'd the fault of others sway.

And fet as fea-marks for himself to fhun: Not like rash monarchs, who their youth betray By acts their age too late would wish undone.

And

X.

yet We owe that bleffing, not to him, but heav'n, Which to fair acts unfought rewards did join; Rewards, that lefs to him than us were given. XI.

dominion was not his defign;

Our former chiefs, like fticklers of the war,
First fought t'inflame the parties, then to poise;
The quarrel lov'd, but did the cause abhor;

And did not strike to hurt, but make a noise,

XII.

War, our confumption, was their gainful trade:
We inward bled, whilft they prolong'd our pain;
He fought to end our fighting, and effay'd

To ftaunch 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 fuch heroic haste,

As if on wings of victory he flew.
XIV.

He fought fecure of fortune as of fame:
Still by new maps, the island might be shewn,
Of conquefts, which he ftrew'd where-e'er he came,
Thick as the galaxy with stars is sown.

XV.

His palms, tho under weights they did not stand, Still thriv'd; no winter could his laurels fade: Heav'n in his portrait shew'd a workman's hand, And drew it perfect, yet without a fhade.

XVI.

Peace was the prize of all his toil and care, Which war had banish'd, and did now reftore: Bologna's walls thus mounted in the air,

To feat themselves more furely than before.

XVII.

Her fafety refcu'd Ireland to him owes ;

And treacherous Scotland to no interest true, Yet bleft that fate which did his arms dispose Her land to civilize, as to fubdue.

XVIII.

Nor was he like those stars which only shine,
When to pale mariners they ftorms portend:
He had his calmer influence, and his mien
Did love and majefty together blend.
XIX.

'Tis true, his count'nance did imprint an awe;
And naturally all fouls to his did bow,
As wands of divination downward draw,
And point to beds where fov'reign gold doth grow.
XX.

When past all off'rings to Feretrian Jove,
He Marsdepos'd, and arms to gowns made yield;
Successful councils did him foon approve
As fit for close intrigues, as open field.
XXI.

To fuppliant Holland he vouchfaf'd a peace,
Our once bold rival of the British main,
Now tamely glad her unjust claim to cease,
And buy our friendship with her idol, gain.

XXII.

Fame of th'afferted fea through Europe blown,

Made France and Spain ambitious of his love; Each knew that fide muft conquer he would own; And for him fiercely, as for empire, ftrove. XXIII.

No fooner was the Frenchman's caufe embrac'd, Than the light Monfieur the grave Don out

weigh'd;

His fortune turn'd the fcale where'er 'twas caft;

Tho Indian mines were in the other laid.

XXIV.

When abfent, yet we conquer'd in his right:
For tho fome meaner artist's skill were shown
In mingling colours, or in placing light;
Yet ftill the fair defignment was his own.

XXV.

For from all tempers he could fervice draw;
The worth of each, with its alloy, he knew,
And, as the confident of nature, faw
How the complexions did divide and brew,
XXVI.

Or he their fingle virtues did furvey,

By intuition in his own large breast, Where all the rich ideas of them lay,

That were the rule and measure to the rest,