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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408515" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To the Queen at Oxford</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Great Lady! That thus quite against our use, <br>We speak your welcome by an English Muse, <br>And in a vulgar tongue our zeales contrive, <br>Is to confess your large prerogative, <br>Who have the pow'rful freedom to dispense <br>With our strict Rules, or Customes difference. <br>Tis fit when such a Star deigns to appeare <br>And shine within the Academick Spheare, <br>That ev'ry Colledge grac't by your resort, <br>Should onely speak the language of your Court; <br>As if Apollo's learned Quire, but You <br>No other Queen of the Ascendent knew. <br>Let those that list invoke the Delphian name, <br>To light their verse, and quench their doting flame; <br>In Helicon it were High Treason now, <br>Did any to a feign'd Minerva bow; <br>When You are present, whose chast vertues stain <br>The vaunted glories of her Maiden brain. <br>I would not flatter. May that dyet feed <br>Deform'd and vicious soules: they onely need <br>Such physick, who grown sick of their decayes, <br>Are onely cur'd with surfets of false praise; <br>Like those, who fall'n from Youth or Beauties grace, <br>Lay colours on which more bely the face. <br>Be You still what You are; a glorious Theme <br>For Truth to crown. So when that Diademe <br>Which circles Your fair brow drops off, and time <br>Shall lift You to that pitch our prayers climbe; <br>Posterity will plat a nobler wreath, <br>To crown Your fame and memory in death. <br>This is sad truth and plain, which I might fear <br>Would scarce prove welcome to a Princes ear; <br>And hardly may you think that Writer wise <br>Who preaches there where he should poetize; <br>Yet where so rich a bank of goodness is, <br>Triumphs and Feasts admit such thoughts as this; <br>Nor will your vertue from her Client turn, <br>Although he bring his tribute in an urn. <br>Enough of this: who knowes not when to end <br>Needs must by tedious diligence offend. <br>'Tis not a Poets office to advance <br>The precious value of allegiance. <br>And least of all the rest do I affect <br>To word my duty in this dialect. <br>My service lies a better way, whose tone <br>Is spirited by full devotion. <br>Thus whil'st I mention You, Your Royal Mate, <br>And Those which your blest line perpetuate, <br>I shall such votes of happiness reherse, <br>Whose softest accents will out-tongue my verse.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+King">Henry King</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408515" data-title="To the Queen at Oxford de Henry King" data-description="Great Lady! That thus quite against our use, 
We speak your welcome by an English Muse, 
And in a vulgar tongue our zeales contrive, 
Is to confess your large prerogative, 
Who have the pow'rful freedom to dispense 
With our strict Rules, or Custo..."></div>
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