The Poetical Works of John Dryden, Volume 1: With Life, Critical Dissertation, and Explanatory NotesDryden, John
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The Poetical Works of John Dryden, Volume 1: With Life, Critical Dissertation, and Explanatory Notes
Dryden, John
English poetry
He said. The statesman with a smile replies,
A smile that did his rising spleen disguise:
My thoughts presumed our labours at an end;
And are we still with conscience to contend? 160
Whose want in kings as needful is allow'd,
As 'tis for them to find it in the crowd.
Far in the doubtful passage you are gone,
And only can be safe by pressing on.
The crown's true heir, a prince severe and wise,
Has view'd your motions long with jealous eyes,
Your person's charms, your more prevailing arts,
And mark'd your progress in the people's hearts,
Whose patience is the effect of stinted power,
But treasures vengeance for the fatal hour; 170
And if remote the peril he can bring,
Your present danger's greater from the king.
Let not a parent's name deceive your sense,
Nor trust the father in a jealous prince!
Your trivial faults if he could so resent,
To doom you little less than banishment,
What rage must your presumption since inspire!
Against his orders you return from Tyre.
Nor only so, but with a pomp more high,
And open court of popularity, 180
The factious tribes.--And this reproof from thee!
The prince replies; Oh, statesman's winding skill,
They first condemn that first advised the ill!
Illustrious youth! returned Achitophel,
Misconstrue not the words that mean you well;
The course you steer I worthy blame conclude,
But 'tis because you leave it unpursued.
A monarch's crown with fate surrounded lies,
Who reach, lay hold on death that miss the prize.
Did you for this expose yourself to show, 190
And to the crowd bow popularly low?
For this your glorious progress next ordain,
With chariots, horsemen, and a numerous train?
With fame before you, like the morning star,
And shouts of joy saluting from afar?
Oh, from the heights you've reach'd but take a view,
Scarce leading Lucifer could fall like you!
And must I here my shipwreck'd arts bemoan?
Have I for this so oft made Israel groan?
Your single interest with the nation weigh'd, 200
And turn'd the scale where your desires were laid;
Even when at helm a course so dangerous moved
To land your hopes, as my removal proved.--
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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