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TO purchase kingdoms, and to buy renown,
Are arts peculiar to dissembling France;
You, mighty monarch, nobler actions crown,
And solid virtue does your name advance.
Your matchless courage with your prudence joins
The glorious structure of your fame to raise;
With its own light your dazzling glory shines,
And into adoration turns our praise.
Had you by dull succession gain'd your crown
(Cowards are monarchs by that title made),
Part of your merit Chance would call her own,
And half your virtues had been lost in shade.
But now your worth its just reward shall have:
What trophies and what triumphs are your due!
Who could so well a dying nation save,
At once deserve a crown, and gain it too!
- ↑ This Ode, which had been long sought after without success, was first ascertained to be Swift's in the Select Collection of Poems, published by J. Nichols, 1778, vol. IV, page 303. That it is the dean's, there is not the least doubt. He refers to it in the second stanza of his "Ode to the Athenian Society," and expressly marks it by a marginal note, under the title of "The Ode I writ to the king in Ireland." See "The Gentleman's Journal, July, 1692," page 13.
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