The Hind and the Panther.
91
The heavy malice cou'd no higher tend,
But wo to him on whom the weights descend!
So to permitted ills the Dæmon flyes:
His rage is aim'd at him who rules the skyes;
Constrain'd to quit his cause, no succour found,
The foe discharges ev'ry Tyre around,
In clouds of smoke abandoning the fight,
But his own thund'ring peals proclaim his flight.
But wo to him on whom the weights descend!
So to permitted ills the Dæmon flyes:
His rage is aim'd at him who rules the skyes;
Constrain'd to quit his cause, no succour found,
The foe discharges ev'ry Tyre around,
In clouds of smoke abandoning the fight,
But his own thund'ring peals proclaim his flight.
In Henry's change his charge as ill succeeds,
To that long story little answer needs,
Confront but Henry's words with Henry's deeds.
Were space allow'd, with ease it might be prov'd,
What springs his blessed reformation mov'd.
The dire effects appear'd in open sight,
Which from the cause, he calls a distant flight,
And yet no larger leap than from the sun to light.
To that long story little answer needs,
Confront but Henry's words with Henry's deeds.
Were space allow'd, with ease it might be prov'd,
What springs his blessed reformation mov'd.
The dire effects appear'd in open sight,
Which from the cause, he calls a distant flight,
And yet no larger leap than from the sun to light.
Now last your sons a double Pæan found,
A Treatise of Humility is found.
A Treatise of Humility is found.
'Tis