Justice, that sits and frowns where public laws Exclude soft mercy from a private cause, 50 In your tribunal most herself does please; There only smiles because she lives at ease; And, like young David, finds her strength the more, When disencumber'd from those arms she wore. Heaven would our royal master should exceed Most in that virtue which we most did need; And his mild father (who too late did find All mercy vain but what with power was join'd) His fatal goodness left to fitter times, Not to increase, but to absolve, our crimes: 60 But when the heir of this vast treasure knew How large a legacy was left to you (Too great for any subject to retain), He wisely tied it to the crown again: Yet, passing through your hands, it gathers more, As streams, through mines, bear tincture of their ore. While empiric politicians use deceit, Hide what they give, and cure but by a cheat; You boldly show that skill which they pretend, And work by means as noble as your end: 70 Which should you veil, we might unwind the clew, As men do nature, till we came to you. And as the Indies were not found, before Those rich perfumes, which, from the happy shore, The winds upon their balmy wings convey'd, Whose guilty sweetness first their world betray'd; So by your counsels we are brought to view A rich and undiscover'd world in you. By you our monarch does that fame assure, Which kings must have, or cannot live secure: 80 For prosperous princes gain their subjects' heart, Who love that praise in which themselves have part. By you he fits those subjects to obey, As heaven's eternal Monarch does convey His power unseen, and man to his designs, By his bright ministers the stars, inclines. Our setting sun, from his declining seat, Shot beams of kindness on you, not of heat: And, when his love was bounded in a few That were unhappy that they might be true, 90 Made you the favourite of his last sad times, That is a sufferer in his subjects' crimes: Thus those first favours you received, were sent, Like heaven's rewards in earthly punishment. Yet fortune, conscious of your destiny, Even then took care to lay you softly by; And wrapp'd your fate among her precious things, Kept fresh to be unfolded with your king's. Shown all at once, you dazzled so our eyes, As new born Pallas did the gods surprise, 100 When, springing forth from Jove's new-closing wound, She struck the warlike spear into the ground; Which sprouting leaves did suddenly enclose, And peaceful olives shaded as they rose.