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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419857" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Satire On The Dutch</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">As needy gallants, in the scrivener's hands, <br>Court the rich knaves that gripe their mortgaged lands; <br>The first fat buck of all the season's sent, <br>And keeper takes no fee in compliment; <br>The dotage of some Englishmen is such, <br>To fawn on those who ruin them,—the Dutch. <br>They shall have all, rather than make a war <br>With those who of the same religion are. <br>The Straits, the Guinea trade, the herrings too; <br>Nay, to keep friendship, they shall pickle you. <br>Some are resolved not to find out the cheat, <br>But, cuckold-like, love them that do the feat. <br>What injuries soe'er upon us fall, <br>Yet still the same religion answers all:— <br>Religion wheedled us to civil war, <br>Drew English blood, and Dutchmen's now would spare. <br>Be gulled no longer, for you'll find it true, <br>They have no more religion, faith! than you. <br>Interest's the god they worship in their state; <br>And we, I take it, have not much of that. <br>Well monarchies may own religion's name; <br>But states are atheists in their very frame. <br>They share a sin; and such proportions fall, <br>That, like a stink, 'tis nothing to them all. <br>Think on their rapine, falsehood, cruelty, <br>And that, what once they were they still would be. <br>To one well-born the affront is worse and more, <br>When he's abused and baffled by a boor, <br>With an ill grace the Dutch their mischiefs do; <br>They've both ill nature and ill manners too. <br>Well may they boast themselves an ancient nation; <br>For they were bred ere manners were in fashion: <br>And their new commonwealth hath set them free <br>Only from honour and civility. <br>Venetians do not more uncouthly ride, <br>Than did their lubber state mankind bestride; <br>Their sway became them with as ill a mein, <br>As their own paunches swell above their chin. <br>Yet is their empire no true growth, but humour, <br>And only two kings' touch can cure the tumour. <br>As Cato fruits of Afric did display, <br>Let us before our eyes their Indies lay: <br>All loyal English will like him conclude,— <br>Let Cæsar live, and Carthage be subdued.</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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<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=419857" data-title="Satire On The Dutch de John Dryden" data-description="As needy gallants, in the scrivener's hands, 
Court the rich knaves that gripe their mortgaged lands; 
The first fat buck of all the season's sent, 
And keeper takes no fee in compliment; 
The dotage of some Englishmen is such, 
To fawn on those w..."></div>
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