Classic Poem

Then Drances, spitefull ev'n to Turnus' Name,
Envy'd his Glory, and traduc'd his fame.
Pow'rfull in wealth, more pow'rfull with his tongue
A great Caballer with the giddy throng.
A downright Statesman, in adviseing bold,
But in performance impotent, and cold.
Come from the Mothers side of noble Bloud,
But from what Father hardly understood.
He rose, and thus pursues his dire Revenge.
Great King, Your Counsell's neither new nor strange:
All know what's wanting to the common good,
And whisper what they dare not tell aloud.
Would Turnus give us liberty to speak,
Or quell his pride; for his unlucky sake
So many Latine Captains lifeles ly;
Nay, I will speak, tho by his hand I dy.
His partiall actings drown our Town in Tears,
But all his bravery by his flight appears.
To all the Presents you propose to send,
Add this, to make the Trojan King your friend.
Give him the fair Lavinia for his Bride,
This Royall match for your lov'd child provide.
Then let no Pow'r restrain or change your mind.
This tye alone a lasting peace can bind.