Annus Mirabilis: The Year of Wonders/To my Lord Chancellor, Presented on New-years-day
Jump to navigation
Jump to search
TO
MY LORD
CHANCELLOR,
Presented on
New-years-day.
By John Dryden.
LONDON
Printed for Henry Herringman, and sold by
Jacob Tonson at the Judges-Head
in Chancery-lane. 1688.
My Lord,
WHile flattering Crouds officiously appear
To give themselves, not you, an happy year;
And by the greatness of their Presents prove
How much they hope, but not how well they love;
The Muses (who your early courtship boast,
Though now your Flames are with their Beauty lost,)
Yet watch their time, that if you have forgot,
They were your Mistresses, the World may not:
Decay'd by Time and Wars, they only prove
Their former Beauty by your former Love;
And now present, as ancient Ladies do,
That courted long at length are forc'd to woo.
For still they look on you with such kind eyes,
As those that see the Churches Sovereign rise;
From their own Order chose, in whose high State,
They think themselves the second choice of Fate.
When our Great Monarch into Exile went,
Wit and Religion suffer'd banishment:
Thus once when Troy was wrapt in fire and smoak,
The helpless Gods their burning shrines forsook;
They with the vanquisht Prince and party go,
And leave their Temples empty to the Foe:
At length the Muses stand, restor'd again
To that great charge which Nature did ordain;
And their lov'd Druyds seem reviv'd by Fate,
While you dispense the Laws and guide the State.
The Nations soul (our Monarch) does dispense,
Through you, to us his vital influence;
You are the Chanel where those spirits flow,
And work them higher as to us they go.
In open prospect nothing bounds our Eye,
Until the Earth seems join'd unto the Sky:
So in this Hemisphere our utmost view
Is only bounded by our King and you:
Our sight is limited where you are join'd,
And beyond that no farther Heav'n can find.
So well your Virtues do with his agree,
That though your Orbs of different greatness be,
Yet both are for each others use dispos'd,
His to enclose, and yours to be inclos'd.
Nor could another in your room have been,
Except an Emptiness had come between.
Well may he then to you his Cares impart,
And share his burden where he shares his heart.
In you his Sleep still wakes; his Pleasures find
Their share of bus'ness in your labr'ing mind:
So when the weary Sun his place resigns,
He leaves his Light and by Reflection shines.
Justice, that sits and frowns where publick Laws
Exclude soft Mercy from a private cause,
In your Tribunal most her self does please;
There only smiles because she lives at ease;
And like young David, finds her strength the more,
When disincumber'd from those arms she wore:
Heaven would your 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 pow'r was join'd,)
His fatal goodness left to fitter times,
Not to increase but to absolve our Crimes:
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 ti'd it to the Crown again:
Yet passing through your hands it gathers more,
As Streams, through Mines, bear Tincture of their Ore.
While Emp'rique Politicians use deceipt,
Hide what they give, and cure but by a cheat;
You boldly shew that Skill which they pretend,
And work by means as noble as your end:
Which should you veil, we might unwind the clue,
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 same assure,
Which Kings must have or cannot live secure:
For prosp'rous Princes gain the Subjects heart,
Who love that Praise in which themselves have part:
By you he fits those Subjects to obey,
As Heavens Eternal Monarch does convey
His pow'r 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;
Made you the favo'rite of his last sad times,
That is a suff'rer in his Subjects Crimes:
Thus those first Favours you receiv'd were sent,
Like Heav'ns rewards, in earthly punishment.
Yet Fortune conscious of your Destiny,
Ev'n then took care to lay you softly by:
And wrapt your fate among her precious things,
Kept fresh to be unfolded with your Kings.
Shewn all at once you dazled so our Eyes,
As new-born Pallas did the Gods surprise;
When springing forth from Jove's new-closing wound,
She struck the warlike Spear into the ground;
Which sprouting leaves did suddenly inclose,
And peaceful Olives shaded as they rose.
How strangely active are the arts of Peace,
Whose restless motions less than Wars do cease!
Peace is not freed from labour but from noise;
And War more force but not more pains employs;
Such is the mighty Swiftness of your mind,
That (like the Earths,) it leaves our sense behind,
While you so smoothly turn and roul our Sphear,
That rapid motion does but rest appear.
For as in Natures swiftness, with the throng
Of flying Orbs while ours is born along,
All seems at rest to the deluded eye:
(Mov'd by the Soul of the same harmony,)
So carry'd on by your unwearied care
We rest in Peace and yet in motion share.
Let Envy then those Crimes within you see,
From which the happy never must be free;
(Envy that does with misery reside,
The joy and the revenge of ruin'd Pride;)
Think it not hard, if at so cheap a rate
You can secure the constancy of Fate,
Whose kindness sent, what does their malice seem,
By lesser ills the greater to redeem.
Nor can we this weak show'r a tempest call,
But drops of heat that in the Sun-shine fall.
You have already weari'd Fortune so,
She cannot farther be your Friend or Foe;
But sits all breathless, and admires to feel
A Fate so weighty, that it stops her wheel.
In all things else above our humble fate,
Your equal mind yet swells not into state,
But like some Mountain in those happy Isles,
Where in perpetual Spring young Nature smiles,
Your greatness shews: no horror to afright
But Trees for shade, and Flo'wrs to court the sight;
Sometimes the Hill submits it self awhile
In small descents, which do its height beguile;
And sometimes mounts, but so as billows play,
Whose rise not hinders but makes short our way.
Your Brow which does no fear of Thunder know,
Sees rouling Tempests vainly beat below;
And (like Olympus top,) the impression wears
Of Love and Friendship writ in former years.
Yet unimpair'd with labours or with time
Your age but seems to a new youth to climb.
Thus Heav'nly Bodies do our time beget;
And measure Change, but share no part of it.
And still it shall without a weight increase,
Like this New-year, whose motions never cease;
For since the glorious Course you have begun
Is led by CHARLES, as that is by the Sun,
It must both weightless and immortal prove,
Because the Center of it is above.
WHile flattering Crouds officiously appear
To give themselves, not you, an happy year;
And by the greatness of their Presents prove
How much they hope, but not how well they love;
The Muses (who your early courtship boast,
Though now your Flames are with their Beauty lost,)
Yet watch their time, that if you have forgot,
They were your Mistresses, the World may not:
Decay'd by Time and Wars, they only prove
Their former Beauty by your former Love;
And now present, as ancient Ladies do,
That courted long at length are forc'd to woo.
For still they look on you with such kind eyes,
As those that see the Churches Sovereign rise;
From their own Order chose, in whose high State,
They think themselves the second choice of Fate.
When our Great Monarch into Exile went,
Wit and Religion suffer'd banishment:
Thus once when Troy was wrapt in fire and smoak,
The helpless Gods their burning shrines forsook;
They with the vanquisht Prince and party go,
And leave their Temples empty to the Foe:
At length the Muses stand, restor'd again
To that great charge which Nature did ordain;
And their lov'd Druyds seem reviv'd by Fate,
While you dispense the Laws and guide the State.
The Nations soul (our Monarch) does dispense,
Through you, to us his vital influence;
You are the Chanel where those spirits flow,
And work them higher as to us they go.
In open prospect nothing bounds our Eye,
Until the Earth seems join'd unto the Sky:
So in this Hemisphere our utmost view
Is only bounded by our King and you:
Our sight is limited where you are join'd,
And beyond that no farther Heav'n can find.
So well your Virtues do with his agree,
That though your Orbs of different greatness be,
Yet both are for each others use dispos'd,
His to enclose, and yours to be inclos'd.
Nor could another in your room have been,
Except an Emptiness had come between.
Well may he then to you his Cares impart,
And share his burden where he shares his heart.
In you his Sleep still wakes; his Pleasures find
Their share of bus'ness in your labr'ing mind:
So when the weary Sun his place resigns,
He leaves his Light and by Reflection shines.
Justice, that sits and frowns where publick Laws
Exclude soft Mercy from a private cause,
In your Tribunal most her self does please;
There only smiles because she lives at ease;
And like young David, finds her strength the more,
When disincumber'd from those arms she wore:
Heaven would your 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 pow'r was join'd,)
His fatal goodness left to fitter times,
Not to increase but to absolve our Crimes:
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 ti'd it to the Crown again:
Yet passing through your hands it gathers more,
As Streams, through Mines, bear Tincture of their Ore.
While Emp'rique Politicians use deceipt,
Hide what they give, and cure but by a cheat;
You boldly shew that Skill which they pretend,
And work by means as noble as your end:
Which should you veil, we might unwind the clue,
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 same assure,
Which Kings must have or cannot live secure:
For prosp'rous Princes gain the Subjects heart,
Who love that Praise in which themselves have part:
By you he fits those Subjects to obey,
As Heavens Eternal Monarch does convey
His pow'r 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;
Made you the favo'rite of his last sad times,
That is a suff'rer in his Subjects Crimes:
Thus those first Favours you receiv'd were sent,
Like Heav'ns rewards, in earthly punishment.
Yet Fortune conscious of your Destiny,
Ev'n then took care to lay you softly by:
And wrapt your fate among her precious things,
Kept fresh to be unfolded with your Kings.
Shewn all at once you dazled so our Eyes,
As new-born Pallas did the Gods surprise;
When springing forth from Jove's new-closing wound,
She struck the warlike Spear into the ground;
Which sprouting leaves did suddenly inclose,
And peaceful Olives shaded as they rose.
How strangely active are the arts of Peace,
Whose restless motions less than Wars do cease!
Peace is not freed from labour but from noise;
And War more force but not more pains employs;
Such is the mighty Swiftness of your mind,
That (like the Earths,) it leaves our sense behind,
While you so smoothly turn and roul our Sphear,
That rapid motion does but rest appear.
For as in Natures swiftness, with the throng
Of flying Orbs while ours is born along,
All seems at rest to the deluded eye:
(Mov'd by the Soul of the same harmony,)
So carry'd on by your unwearied care
We rest in Peace and yet in motion share.
Let Envy then those Crimes within you see,
From which the happy never must be free;
(Envy that does with misery reside,
The joy and the revenge of ruin'd Pride;)
Think it not hard, if at so cheap a rate
You can secure the constancy of Fate,
Whose kindness sent, what does their malice seem,
By lesser ills the greater to redeem.
Nor can we this weak show'r a tempest call,
But drops of heat that in the Sun-shine fall.
You have already weari'd Fortune so,
She cannot farther be your Friend or Foe;
But sits all breathless, and admires to feel
A Fate so weighty, that it stops her wheel.
In all things else above our humble fate,
Your equal mind yet swells not into state,
But like some Mountain in those happy Isles,
Where in perpetual Spring young Nature smiles,
Your greatness shews: no horror to afright
But Trees for shade, and Flo'wrs to court the sight;
Sometimes the Hill submits it self awhile
In small descents, which do its height beguile;
And sometimes mounts, but so as billows play,
Whose rise not hinders but makes short our way.
Your Brow which does no fear of Thunder know,
Sees rouling Tempests vainly beat below;
And (like Olympus top,) the impression wears
Of Love and Friendship writ in former years.
Yet unimpair'd with labours or with time
Your age but seems to a new youth to climb.
Thus Heav'nly Bodies do our time beget;
And measure Change, but share no part of it.
And still it shall without a weight increase,
Like this New-year, whose motions never cease;
For since the glorious Course you have begun
Is led by CHARLES, as that is by the Sun,
It must both weightless and immortal prove,
Because the Center of it is above.
FINIS.