Classic Poem

We need not search for penitent sinners tears,
For Blacks — the widow or wrong'd Orphan wears,
For sighs from Kings deposed, or for grief
From shipwreckt Merchants, banisht all relief.
Nor need we here Laments t'embalm this Herse,
That flattering Poets strain from bleeding Verse.
Here petty streams not onely Currents pay,
But all the Ocean flouds each dryest way.
'Tis not an Angle, Province, that or this
That weeps: The general Kingdom Mourner is.
Nor is't a Plank or prop that's lost by Fate,
But 'tis a Capital Column of the State.
Which here so summons grief, that all men good
Approach, and bring sad Tribute to the floud:
That now this Isle not onely seems to be
Inviron'd round with waves, but waves to be.
Our London is turn'd Venice , and our gay
Pallaces peer, as plac'd in a salt Bay.
Where Tydes of sorrow make us think we meet
Not men on Land, but Rowers in the street.
And when we hence a stage or two shall pass,
We shall see clearer what our last Scene was.
Who is't hereafter that shall dare to draw
A Line to part Prerogative and Law?
And shew from each — Man may, by fair Acquist,
Be both a Patriot and a Royalist.
Who can dispatch so much so well, so free
From Fear, from Favour, stain or Bribery?
Who shall discover now those flourisht sleights,
That Lawyers offer for pretended rights?
When all their Pleadings, Oratory, Law,
Is but the Judge to judge amisse, to draw.
Who shall at first relation hear, and spy
The knot? and that not cut but well untye?
Who shall like Virgo in the Zodiack (fit)
Between bold Leo and just Libra sit,
Stern Justice to pronounce? which they that lose
Must praise, because they have not power to chuse,
Unlesse they forfeit Conscience first: and then
'Tis not in gods to give content to men.
Who shall spring up his heir of Brain? so keen,
So solid and so strong, as had he been
The living Volume of the Law, he cou'd
Not have done more, or more diffusive good.
Th'unfriended's Patron, the oppressed's shield;
The Fort of Truth, untaught by charms to yield:
That knew his right of Place, and durst 'gainst all
Maintain't; whilst none durst it in question call.
The Subjects Anchor; yet in's just intent
His Royal Princes noblest instrument
Strong proof 'gainst all corruption; and 'gainst all
Malice could vent from her invenom'd Gall
He was triumphant still: not the least stain
But did glide off, as from oyl'd Satten rain.
Advanc'd on Judgments Throne, he did not rise
T'ore-look himself, or others to despise.
For well he knew, ev'n Kings are not exempt,
But if they sow Disdain, they reap Contempt.
His were not Courts alone, but Readings; there
The Bar was throng'd rather to learn than hear.
Nor were men check'd or jested from their right,
Council he did but rectifie, not bite.
Not empty, swell'd with State; as if his word
Could lesse with reason awe, than with My Lord.
No payments with Court-frowns; or such sowre looks
As could blot debts from some poor Tradesmens books.
No itch, nor yet contempt of Fame; which flyes
Yet most to those who merit more, than prize.
Not cholerick out of greatnesse: Such i'th'skye
Of Honour, drawn up by the Suns heat high,
Hang fir'd and sparkle, threat some dire event
To fright the world with; but their slime once spent,
They then, not in vast Seas or Royal Thames ,
But in some puddle quench their Bearded Flames.
In midst of Tempests calm! He had command
In passions strain'd Career to make a stand.
So Armies bravely disciplin'd, exalt
In winged Marches, and then make an Alt.
Not hurried into rage by weaknesse; Wit
And Judgment never with wild Fury sit.
The Sun in's temperate Zone does gently turn
The Spring: In Torrid, does not warm but burn.
True wisdoms God is never found in noise;
But that God was found in the cool soft voice.
A Life in all so blemishlesse, that we
Enoch 's return may sooner hope, than he
Should be outshin'd by any. More 's learned wit,
Nor Bacon 's miracl'd Fancy e're can sit
Loftier in Fames high Tower, than what we see
Flows from his lasting Names integrity.
Nor is this Fancy, catcht report, or guess,
For all have seen what all these lines profess.
So though the Poet be left out, yet I
From Truth and Him may reach Eternity.
These shadows were; he that would do him right,
Must History, and not a Poem write.
He must draw Cato, Solon, Cicero ,
Even all the Sages, and our own Laws too.
For in that History he must devise
To paint out all Philosophy calls wise.
He must describe the gods Olympus , where
Honours best Exercises acted were.
Whose Base was firm and fruitful, but we find
His calm top dwelt above or Clouds or Wind.
He must limb spirits never tir'd; such parts
As had of equal rule all the best Arts.
He must two wonders tell; In him (both eas'd)
The Prince and People fifteen years well pleas'd.
The other; All his wayes so ballanc'd were,
As no base wit in Libel durst appear.
Then he must dye, to make the world confesse
A wise man onely is then one God lesse.
Last, let there be a generous Odor fann'd
By soft perfumed winds through all the Land:
Then like rich essence in the locks of Fame
If't stick and last for ever, that's his Name.