John Dryden

“ Not now content to poize, shall sway, the rest.
Abroad your Empire shall no Limits know,
But like the Sea in boundless Circles flow.
Your much lov'd Fleet shall with a wide Command
Besiege the petty Monarchs of the Land:
And as Old Time his Off-spring swallow'd down,
Our Ocean in its depths all Seas shall drown.
Their wealthy Trade from Pyrate's Rapine free,
Our Merchants shall no more Advent'rers be:
Nor in the farthest East those Dangers fear
Which humble Holland must dissemble here.
Spain to your Gift alone her Indies owes ”

“ Lost by his Wiles the Pow'r his Wit did gain.
Henceforth their Fogue must spend at lesser rate,
Than in its Flames to wrap a Nations Fate.
Suffer'd to live, they are like Helots set,
A virtuous Shame within us to beget.
For by example most we sinn'd before,
And glass-like clearness mixt with frailty bore.
But since reform'd by what we did amiss,
We by our suff'rings learn to prize our bliss. ”

“ Within the Water, mov'd along the Skies.
How easie 'tis when Destiny proves kind,
With full spread Sails, to run before the Wind.
But those that 'gainst stiff Gales laveering go,
Must be at once resolv'd and skilful too. ”

“ Your Pow'r to Justice doth submit your Cause,
Your Goodness only is above the Laws;
Whose rigid Letter while pronounc'd by you
Is softer made. So winds that tempests brew
When through Arabian Groves they take their flight,
Made wanton with rich Odours, lose their spight. ”

“ He made all Countries where he came his own. ”

“ Which govern'd by the wild distemper'd rage
Of some black Star infecting all the Skies,
Made him at his own cost like Adam wise.
Tremble, ye Nations, who secure before,
Laught at those Arms that 'gainst our selves we bore ”

“ We Light alone in dark Afflictions find.
In such adversities to Scepters train'd,
The name of Great his famous Grandsire gain'd:
Who yet a King alone in Name and Right,
With hunger, cold and angry Jove did fight;
Shock'd by a Covenanting Leagues vast Pow'rs,
As holy and as Catholick as ours:
Till Fortunes fruitless spight had made it known,
Her blows not shook but riveted his Throne.
Some lazy Ages, lost in Sleep and Ease,
No action leave to busie Chronicles ”