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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419826" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Heroic Stanzas</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Consecrated to the Glorious Memory of His <br>Most Serene and Renowned Highness, Oliver,<br>Late Lord Protector of This Commonwealth, etc.<br>Written After the Celebration of his Funeral </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>1</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And now 'tis time; for their officious haste, <br>Who would before have borne him to the sky, <br>Like eager Romans ere all rites were past <br>Did let too soon the sacred eagle fly. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">2</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though our best notes are treason to his fame <br>Join'd with the loud applause of public voice; <br>Since Heav'n, what praise we offer to his name, <br>Hath render'd too authentic by its choice; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">3</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though in his praise no arts can liberal be, <br>Since they whose Muses have the highest flown <br>Add not to his immortal memory, <br>But do an act of friendship to their own; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">4</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet 'tis our duty and our interest too <br>Such monuments as we can build to raise, <br>Lest all the world prevent what we should do <br>And claim a title in him by their praise. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">5</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How shall I then begin, or where conclude <br>To draw a fame so truly circular? <br>For in a round what order can be shew'd, <br>Where all the parts so equal perfect are? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">6</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His grandeur he deriv'd from Heav'n alone, <br>For he was great ere fortune made him so, <br>And wars like mists that rise against the sun <br>Made him but greater seem, not greater grown. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">7</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No borrow'd bays his temples did adorn, <br>But to our crown he did fresh jewels bring. <br>Nor was his virtue poison'd soon as born <br>With the too early thoughts of being king. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">8</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fortune (that easy mistress of the young <br>But to her ancient servant coy and hard) <br>Him at that age her favorites rank'd among <br>When she her best-lov'd Pompey did discard. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">9</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He, private, mark'd the faults of others' sway, <br>And set as sea-marks for himself to shun, <br>Not like rash monarchs who their youth betray <br>By acts their age too late would wish undone. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">10</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And yet dominion was not his design; <br>We owe that blessing not to him but Heaven, <br>Which to fair acts unsought rewards did join, <br>Rewards that less to him than us were given. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">11</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Our former chiefs like sticklers of the war <br>First sought t'inflame the parties, then to poise, <br>The quarrel lov'd, but did the cause abhor, <br>And did not strike to hurt but make a noise. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">12</div><div style="margin:10px 0">War, our consumption, was their gainfull trade; <br>We inward bled whilst they prolong'd our pain; <br>He fought to end our fighting and assay'd <br>To stanch the blood by breathing of the vein. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">13</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Swift and resistless through the land he pass'd <br>Like that bold Greek who did the east subdue, <br>And made to battles such heroic haste <br>As if on wings of victory he flew. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">14</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He fought secure of fortune as of fame, <br>Till by new maps the island might be shown, <br>Of conquests which he strew'd where'er he came <br>Thick as a galaxy with stars is sown. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">15</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His palms, though under weights they did not stand, <br>Still thriv'd; no winter could his laurels fade; <br>Heav'n in his portrait shew'd a workman's hand <br>And drew it perfect yet without a shade. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">16</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Peace was the prize of all his toils and care, <br>Which war had banish'd and did now restore; <br>Bologna's walls thus mounted in the air <br>To seat themselves more surely than before. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">17</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her safety rescu'd Ireland to him owes, <br>And treacherous Scotland, to no int'rest true, <br>Yet bless'd that fate which did his arms dispose <br>Her land to civilize as to subdue. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">18</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nor was he like those stars which only shine <br>When to pale mariners they storms portend; <br>He had his calmer influence, and his mien <br>Did love and majesty together blend. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">19</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Tis true, his count'nance did imprint an awe, <br>And naturally all souls to his did bow, <br>As wands of divination downward draw <br>And points to beds where sov'reign gold doth grow. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">20</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When past all offerings to Feretrian Jove, <br>He Mars depos'd and arms to gowns made yield; <br>Successful councils did him soon approve <br>As fit for close intrigues as open field. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">21</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To suppliant Holland he vouchsaf'd a peace, <br>Our once bold rival in the British main, <br>Now tamely glad her unjust claim to cease <br>And buy our friendship with her idol, gain. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">22</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fame of th' asserted sea through Europe blown <br>Made France and Spain ambitious of his love; <br>Each knew that side must conquer he would own, <br>And for him fiercely as for empire strove. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">23</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No sooner was the Frenchman's cause embrac'd <br>Than the light monsieur the grave don outweigh'd; <br>His fortune turn'd the scale where it was cast, <br>Though Indian mines were in the other laid. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">24</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When absent, yet we conquer'd in his right, <br>For though some meaner artist's skill were shown <br>In mingling colours, or in placing light, <br>Yet still the fair designment was his own. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">25</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For from all tempers he could service draw; <br>The worth of each with its alloy he knew, <br>And as the confidant of Nature saw <br>How she complexions did divide and brew. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">26</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Or he their single virtues did survey <br>By intuition in his own large breast, <br>Where all the rich ideas of them lay, <br>That were the rule and measure to the rest. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">27</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When such heroic virtue Heav'n sets out, <br>The stars like Commons sullenly obey, <br>Because it drains them when it comes about, <br>And therefore is a tax they seldom pay. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">28</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From this high spring our foreign conquests flow, <br>Which yet more glorious triumphs do portend, <br>Since their commencement to his arms they owe, <br>If springs as high as fountains may ascend. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">29</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He made us freemen of the continent <br>Whom Nature did like captives treat before, <br>To nobler preys the English lion sent, <br>And taught him first in Belgian walks to roar. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">30</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That old unquestion'd pirate of the land, <br>Proud Rome, with dread the fate of Dunkirk heard, <br>And trembling wish'd behind more Alps to stand, <br>Although an Alexander were here guard. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">31</div><div style="margin:10px 0">By his command we boldly cross'd the line <br>And bravely fought where southern stars arise, <br>We trac'd the far-fetch'd gold unto the mine <br>And that which brib'd our fathers made our prize. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">32</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Such was our prince; yet own'd a soul above <br>The highest acts it could produce to show: <br>Thus poor mechanic arts in public move <br>Whilst the deep secrets beyond practice go. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">33</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nor di'd he when his ebbing fame went less, <br>But when fresh laurels courted him to live; <br>He seem'd but to prevent some new success, <br>As if above what triumphs earth could give. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">34</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His latest victories still thickest came, <br>As near the center motion does increase, <br>Till he, press'd down by his own weighty name, <br>Did, like the vestal, under spoils decrease. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">35</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But first the ocean as a tribute sent <br>That giant prince of all her watery herd, <br>And th' isle when her protecting genius went <br>Upon his obsequies loud sighs conferr'd. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">36</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No civil broils have since his death arose, <br>But faction now by habit does obey, <br>And wars have that respect for his repose, <br>As winds for halycons when they breed at sea. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">37</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His ashes in a peaceful urn shall rest; <br>His name a great example stands to show <br>How strangely high endeavours may be blest, <br>Where piety and valour jointly go.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Dryden">John Dryden</a><div class=q>
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Most Serene and Renowned Highness, Oliver,
Late Lord Protector of This Commonwealth, etc.
Written After the Celebration of his Funeral 


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And now 'tis time; for their officious haste, 
Who would before..."></div>
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