A PANEGYRIC CONGRATULATORIE TO THE KING'S MAJESTY. Also certain Epistles, By SAMVEL DANIEL.  Carm●● ai●●t quisquis carmina digna gerit.  

A PANEGYRIC CONGRATULATORIE TO HIS MAJESTY.  

1  
LO here the glory of a greater day  
Than England ever heretofore could see  
In all her days. When she did most display  
The Ensigns of her power, or whenas she  
Did spread herself the most, and most did sway  
Her state abroad, yet could she never be  
Thus blessed at home, nor ever come to grow  
To be entire in her full Orb till now.   

2  
And now she is, and now in peace therefore  
Shake hands with Union, O thou mighty State,  
Now thou art all great Britain, and no more,  
No Scot, no English now, nor no debate:  
No Borders but the Ocean, and the Shore,  
No wall of Adrian serves to separate  
Our mutual love, nor our obedience,  
All Subjects now to one imperial Prince.   

3  
What heretofore could never yet be wrought,  
By all the swords of power, by blood, by fire,  
By ruin, and destruction, here is brought  
To pass, with peace, with love, with joy desire:  
Our former blessed union hath begot  
A greater union that is more entire,  
And makes us more ourselves, sets us at one  
With Nature that ordained us to be one.   

4  
Glory of men, this hast thou brought to us,  
And yet hast brought us more than this by far:  
Religion comes with thee, peace, righteousness,  
judgement and justice, which more glorious are  
Then all thy Kingdoms, and art more by this,  
Then Lord and Sovereign, more than Emperor  
Over the hearts of men that let thee in  
To more, than all the powers on Earth can win.   

5  
God makes thee King of our estates, but we  
Do make thee King of our affection,  
King of our Love, a passion borne most free,  
And most un-subiect to dominion:  
And know, that England which in that degree  
Can love, with such a true devotion  
Those that are less than Kings, to thee must bring  
More Love, who art so much more than a King.   

6  
And King of this great Nation, populous,  
Stout, valiant, powerful, both by Sea and Land,  
Attemptive, able, worthy, generous,  
Which joyfully embraces thy command:  
A people tractable, obsequious,  
Apt to be fashioned by thy glorious hand  
To any form of honour, t' any way  
Of high attempts, thy virtues shall assay.   

7  
A people so enured to peace, so wrought  
To a successive course of quietness,  
As th'haue forgot (and O be't still forgot,)  
The nature of their ancient stubbornness;  
Time altered hath the form, the means, and brought  
The state to that proportioned evenness,  
As it is not like again t' will ever come  
(Being used abroad) to draw the sword at home.   

8  
This people, this great State, these hearts adore  
Thy Sceptre now, and now turn all to thee,  
Touched with as powerful zeal, and if not more,  
(And yet O more, how could there ever be  
Than unto her, whom yet we do deplore  
Amidst our joy?) And give us leave if we  
Rejoice and mourn, that cannot without wrong,  
So soon forget her, we enjoyed so long.   

9  
Which likewise makes for thee, that yet we hold  
True after death, and bring not this respect  
To a new Prince from hating of the old;  
Or from desire of change, or from neglect;  
Whereby O mighty sovereign, thou art told  
What thou and thine are likely to expect  
From such a faith, that doth not haste to run  
Before their time, to an arising Sun.   

10  
And let my humble Muse whom she did grace,  
Beg this one grace for her that now lies dead,  
That no vile tongue may spot her with disgrace,  
Nor that her fame become disfigured:  
O let her rest in peace, that ruled in peace,  
Let not her honour be disquieted  
Now after death: but let her Grave enclose  
All but her good, and that it cannot close.   

11  
It adds much to thy glory and our grace,  
That this continued current of our love  
Runs thus to thee, all with so swift a pace;  
And that from peace to peace we do remove,  
Not as in motion put from out our place,  
But in one Course, and do not seem to move,  
But in more joy than ever heretofore,  
And well we may, since thou wilt make us more.   

12  
Our Love we see concurs with God's great Love,  
Who only made thy way, thy passage plain,  
Levelled the world for thee, did all remove,  
That might the show but of a let retain:  
Unbarred the North, humbled the South, did move  
The hearts of all, thy right to entertain,  
Held other States embroiled, whose envy might  
Have fostered factions to impugn thy right:   

13  
And all for thee, that we the more might praise  
The glory of his power, and reverence thine,  
Whom he hath raised to glorify our days,  
And make this Empire of the North to shine:  
Against all th'impious workings, all th'assays  
Of vile disnatured vipers, whose design  
Was to embroil the state t'obscure the light,  
And that clear brightness of thy sacred right.   

14  
To whose reproach, since th'issue and success  
Doth a sufficient mark of shame return,  
Let no pen else blazon their ugliness;  
Be it enough, that God and Men do scorn  
Their projects, censures, vain pretendences:  
Let not our Children that are yet unborn,  
Find there were any offered to contest  
Or make a doubt, to have our kingdom blessed.   

15  
Bury that question in th'eternal grave  
Of darkness, never to be seen again,  
Suffice we have thee whom we ought to have  
And t' whom all good men knew did appertain  
Th'inheritance thy sacred birthright gave,  
That needed 'nother suffrages t'ordaine  
What only was thy due, nor no decree  
To be made known, since none was known but thee.   

16  
Witness the joy the universal cheer,  
The speeede, the ease, the will, the forwardness  
Of all this great and spacious State, how dear  
It held thy Title and thy worthiness:  
Haste could not post of speedy anywhere,  
But Fame seemed there before in readiness,  
To tell our hopes, and to proclaim thy name,  
O greater than our hopes, more than thy Fame.   

17  
What a return of comfort dost thou bring  
Now at this fresh returning of our blood,  
Thus meeting with th'opening of the Spring,  
To make our spirits likewise to imbudde?  
What a new season of encouraging  
Begins t'inlength the days disposed to good?  
What apprehension of recovery  
Of greater strength, of more ability?   

18  
The pulse of England never more did beat  
So strong as now: nor ever were our hearts  
Let out to hopes so spacious and so great,  
As now they are; nor ever in all parts,  
Did we thus feel so comfortable heat,  
As now the glory of thy worth imparts:  
The whole complexion of the Commonwealth  
So weak before, hoped never for more health.   

19  
Couldst thou but see from Dover to the Mount,  
From Totnes to the Orchades, what joy,  
What cheer, what triumphs, and what dear account  
Is held of thy renown this blessed day,  
A day which we, and ours must ever count  
Our solemn festival, as well we may,  
And though men thus court Kings still which are new,  
Yet do they more, where they find more is due.   

20  
They fear the humours of a future Prince,  
Who either lost a good, or felt a bad,  
But thou hast cleer'de us of this fear long since,  
We know thee more, then by report we had,  
We have an everlasting evidence  
Under thy hand, that now we need not dread,  
Thou wilt be otherwise in thy designs  
Then there thou art in those judicial lines.   

21  
It is the greatest glory upon earth  
To be a King, but yet much more to give,  
The institution with the happy birth  
Unto a King, and teach him how to live:  
We have, by thee, far more than thine own worth,  
That doth encourage, strengthen, and relieve  
Our hopes in the succession of thy blood,  
That like to thee, they likewise will be good.   

22  
We have an earnest that doth even tie  
Thy Sceptre to thy word, and binds thy Crown  
(That else no band can bind) to ratify  
What thy religious hand hath there set down,  
Wherein thy all-commanding Sovereignty  
Stands subject to thy Pen and thy Renown,  
There we behold thee King of thine own heart  
And see what we must be, and what thou art.   

23  
There great exemplare prototype of Kings,  
We find the Good shall dwell within thy Court;  
Plain zeal and truth free from base flatter,  
Shall there be entertained and have resort:  
Honest discretion that no cunning brings,  
But councils that lie right, and that import,  
Is there received, with those whose care attends  
Thee, and the State, more than their private ends.   

24  
There grace and favour shall not be dispos'de  
But by proportion, even, and upright,  
There are no mighty mountains interpos'de  
Between thy beams and us, t'imbarre thy light,  
There Majesty lives not as if inclos'de,  
Or made a prey t'a private benefit:  
The hand of power deals there her own reward,  
And thereby reaps the whole of men's regard.   

25  
There is no way to get up to respect,  
But only by the way of worthiness:  
All passages that may seem indirect,  
Are stopped up now, and there in no access  
By gross corruption, bribes cannot effect  
For th'undeserving any offices:  
Th'ascent is clean, and he that doth ascend  
Must have his means as clean as is his end.   

26  
The deeds of worth and laudable deserts,  
Shall not now pass thorough the strait report  
Of an embasing tongue, that but imparts  
What with his ends and humours shall comport:  
The Prince himself now hears, sees, knows, what parts  
Honour and Virtue acts, and in what sort,  
And thereto gives his grace accordingly,  
And cheers up other to the like thereby.   

27  
Nor shall we now have use of flattery,  
For he knows falsehood far more subtle is  
Than truth; baseness than liberty,  
Fear than love, t'invent these flourishes:  
And Adulation now is spent so nigh  
As that it hath no colours to express  
That which it would, that now we must be fain  
T'unlearne that Art, and labour to be plain.   

28  
For where there is no care to be abused,  
None will be found that dare t'inform a wrong,  
The insolent depraver stands confused,  
The impious Atheist seems to want a tongue,  
Transformed into the fashion that is used,  
All strive t'appear like those they live among;  
And all will seem composed by that same square,  
By which they see, the best and greatest are.   

29  
Such power hath thy example and respect  
As that without a Sword, without debate,  
Without a noise, (or feeling in effect)  
Thou wilt dispose, change, form, accommodate  
Thy kingdom, people, rule, and all effect,  
Without the least convulsion of the State,  
That this great passage and mutation, will  
Not seem a change, but only of our ill.   

30  
We shall continue one, and be the same  
In Law, in justice, Magistrate, and form,  
Thou wilt not touch the fundamental frame  
Of this Estate thy Ancestors did form,  
But with a reverence of their glorious fame  
Seek only the corruptions to reform,  
Knowing that course is best to be obseru'de  
Whereby a State hath longest been preserved.   

31  
A King of England now most graciously,  
Remits the injuries that have been done  
T'a King of Scots, and makes his clemency  
To check them more than his correction,  
Th'anointed blood that stained most shamefully  
This ill seduced state, he looks thereon,  
With th'eye of grief, not wrath t'avenge the same,  
Since th'author's are extinct that caused that shame.   

32  
Thus mighty rivers quietly do glide,  
And do not, by their rage their powers profess,  
But by their mighty workings, when in pride  
Small Torrents roar more loud, and work much less:  
Peace Greatness best becomes: calm power doth guide  
With a far more imperious stateliness,  
Then all the force of violence can do,  
And easier gains those ends she tends unto.   

33  
Then England, thou hast reason thus to cheer,  
Reason to joy, and triumph in this wise,  
When thou shalt gain so much, and have no fear  
To lose aught else but thy deformities:  
When thus thou shalt have health and be set clear  
From all thy great infectious maladies,  
By such a hand that best knows how to cure,  
And where most lie those griefs thou dost endure.   

34  
When thou shalt see there is another grace  
Then to be rich; 
Nam ubi cupido divitiarum invasit, neque disciplina, neque artes bonae, neque ingenium ullum satis pollet.  another dignity  
Then money: other means for place  
Then gold: wealth shall not now make honesty;  
When thou shalt see the estimation base  
Of that which most aflicts our misery:  
Without the which, else couldst thou never see  
Our ways laid right, not men themselves to be.   

35  
By which improvement we shall gain much more  
Then by Peru, or all discoveries;  
For this way to embase, is to instore  
The treasure of the land, and make it rise:  
This is the only key t'unlocke the door,  
To let out plenty that it may suffice,  
For more than all this I'll, for more increase  
Of Subjects then, by thee, there can increase.   

36  
This shall make room, and place enough for all,  
Which other wise would not suffice a few,  
And by proportion Geometrical  
Shall so dispose to all, what shall be due:  
As that without corruption, wrangling, brawl,  
Intrusion, wresting, and by means undue,  
Desert shall have her charge, and but one charge,  
As having but one body to discharge.   

37  
Whereby the all-incheering Majesty  
Shall come to shine at full in all her parts,  
And spread her beams of comfort equally,  
As being all alike to like deserts;  
For thus to check, embase and vilify  
Th'esteem of wealth, will fashion so our hearts  
To worthy ends, as that we shall by much  
More, labour to be Good, then to be Rich.   

38  
This will make peace with Law, restore the Bar  
T'her ancient silence, where Contention now  
Makes so confused a noise, this will debar  
The fostering of debate, and overthrow  
That ugly monster that fowl ravener  
Extortion, which so hideously did grow,  
By making prey upon our misery,  
And wasting it again as wickedly.   

39  
The strange examples of impou'rishments,  
Of sacrilege, exactions, and of waste,  
Shall not be made nor held as precedents  
For times to come, but end with th'ages past:  
Whenas the State shall yield more supplements  
(Being well employed) than Kings can well exhaust;  
This golden meadow lying ready still  
Then to be mowed, when their occasions will.   

40  
Favour, like pity, in the hearts of men  
Have the first touches ever violent,  
But soon again it comes to languish, when  
The motive of that humour shall be spent:  
But being still fed with that which first hath been  
The cause thereof, it holds still permanent,  
And is kept in, by course, by form, by kind,  
And Time begets more ties that still more bind.   

41  
The broken frame of this disjointed State,  
Being by the bliss of thy great Grandfather,  
Henry the seventh, restored to an estate  
More sound than ever, and far stedfaster,  
Owes all it hath to him, and in that rate  
Stands bound to thee that art his successor:  
For without him it had not been begun,  
And without thee, we had been now undone.   

42  
He, of a private man, became a King,  
Having endured the weight of tyranny;  
Mourned with the world, complained & knew the thing  
That good men wish for in their misery  
Under ill Kings: saw what it was to bring  
Order and Form to the recovery  
Of an unruly State: conceived what cure  
Would kill the cause of this distemperature.   

43  
Thou, borne a King, hast in thy State, endured  
The sour affronts of private discontent  
With subjects broils; and ever been enured  
To this great mystery of government:  
Whereby thy Princely wisdom hath allured  
A State to peace, left to thee turbulent:  
And brought us an addition to the frame  
Of his great work, squared fitly to the same.   

44  
And, both you (by the all-working providence  
That fashions out of dangers, toils, debates,  
Those whom it hath ordained to commence  
These first, and great establishments of States)  
Came when your aid, your powers experience  
(Which out of judgement best accommodates  
These joints of rule) was more than most desired,  
And when the times of need the most required.   

45  
And as he laid the model of this frame,  
By which was built so strong a work of State,  
As all the powers of changes in the same;  
All that excess of a disordinate  
And lustful Prince: nor all that after came,  
Nor Child, nor stranger, nor yet women's fate,  
Could once disjoint the couplements, whereby  
It held together in just Symmetry.   

46  
So thou likewise art come as foreordained  
To reinforce the same more really,  
Which oftentimes hath been but entertained  
By th'only style, and name of Majesty:  
And by no other councils oft attained  
Those ends of her enjoyed tranquillity,  
Then by this form, and by th'encumbrances  
Of neighbour states that gave it a success.   

47  
That hadst thou had no title (as thou hast  
The only right, and none hath else a right)  
We yet must now have been inforcde t'have cast  
Ourselves into thy arms, to set all right;  
And to avert confusion, bloodshed, waste,  
That otherwise upon us needs must light:  
None but a King, and no King else beside  
Could now have saved this State from being destryed.   

48  
Thus hath the hundredth year brought back again  
The sacred blood lent to adorn the North,  
And here returned it with a greater gain,  
And greater glory than we sent it forth:  
Thus doth th'all-working Providence retain,  
And keep for great effects the seed of worth,  
And so doth point these stops of time thereby,  
In periods of uncertain certainty. 
It is just a hundred years since the Lady Margaret was married to JAMES the fourth, King of Scots.    

49  
Margaret of Richmond (glorious Grandmother  
Unto that other precious Margaret,  
From whence th'almighty worker did transfer  
This branch of peace, as from a root well set)  
Thou mother, author, plotter, Councillor  
Of union, that didst both conceive, beget,  
And bring forth happiness to this great State,  
To make it thus entirely fortunate:   

50  
O couldst thou now but view this fair success,  
This great effect of thy religious work,  
And see therein how God hath pleased to bless  
Thy charitable Counsels, and to work  
Still greater good out of the blessedness  
Of this conjoined Lancaster and York:  
Which all conjoined within, and those shut out,  
Whom nature and their birth had set without.   

51  
How much hast thou bound all posterities  
In this great work, to reverence thy name?  
And with thee, that religious, faithful, wise,  
And learned Mourton who contrived the same,  
And first advised, and did so well advise,  
As that the good success that thereof came,  
Shewdwel, that holy hands, clean thoughts, clear hearts  
Are only fit to act such glorious parts.   

52  
But Muse, these dear remembrances must be  
In their convenient places registered,  
When thou shalt bring stern Discord to agree,  
And bloody war unto a quiet Bed:  
Which work must now be finished by thee:  
That long hath lain undone, as destined  
Unto the glory of these days, for which  
Thy vows and verse have laboured so much.   

53  
Thou ever hast opposed all thy might  
Against contention, fury, pride and wrong,  
Persuading still to hold the course of right,  
And Peace hath been the burden of thy Song,  
And now thyself shalt have the benefit  
Of quietness which thou hast wanted long,  
And now shalt have calm peace, and unuion,  
With thine own wars, and now thou must go on.   

54  
Only the joy of this so dear a thing  
Made me look back unto the cause, whence came  
This so great good, this blessing of King,  
When our estate so much required the same,  
When we had need of power for the well-ord'ring  
Of our affairs: need of a Spirit to frame  
The world to Good, to Grace and worthiness,  
Out of this humour of luxuriousness.   

55  
And bring us back unto ourselves again,  
Unto our ancient native modesty,  
From out these foreign sins we entertain,  
This loathsome surfeits ugly Gluttony,  
From this unruly and this idle vain  
Of wanton and superfluous bravery,  
The wrack of Gentry, spoil of Nobleness,  
And spare us by thy temperate Soberness.   

56  
When Abstinence is fashioned by the Time,  
It is no rare thing to be abstinent,  
But than it is, when th'Age full fraught with crime  
Lies prostrate unto all misgovernment.  
And who is not licentious in the prime  
And heat of youth, nor then incontinent  
When out of might he may, he never will;  
No power can tempt him to that taste of ill.   

57  
Then what are we t'expect from such a hand  
That doth this stern of fair example guide?  
Who will not now shame to have no command  
Over his lusts? Who would be seen t'abide  
Unfaithful to his vows; to infringe the band  
Of a most sacred knot which God hath tie?  
Who would now seem to be dishonoured  
With th' unclean touch of an unlawful bed?   

58  
What a great check will this chaste Court be now  
To wanton Courts debauched with Luxury?  
Where we no other Mistresses shall know  
But her to whom we owe our loyalty:  
Chaste Mother of our Princes whence do grow  
Those righteous issues, which shall glorify  
And comfort many Nations with their worth,  
To her perpetual grace that brought them forth.   

59  
We shall not fear to have our wives distained,  
Nor yet our Daughters violated here  
By an Imperial lust, that being unrained  
Will hardly be resisted any where.  
He will not be betrayed with ease, nor trained  
With idle rest, in soft delights to wear  
His time of life. But knows whereto he tends,  
How worthy minds are made for worthy ends.   

60  
And that this mighty work of union now  
Begun with glory, must with grace run on  
And so be closed, as all the joints may grow  
Together firm in due proportion;  
A work of power and judgement that must show  
All parts of wisdom, and discretion  
That man can show: that no cloud may impair  
This day of hope, whose morning shows so fair.   

61  
He hath a mighty burden to sustain  
Whose fortune doth succeed a gracious Prince,  
Or where men's expectations entertain  
Hopes of more good, and more beneficence:  
But yet he undergoes a greater pain,  
A more laborious work, who must commence  
The great foundation of a Government,  
And lay the frame of order, and content.   

62  
Especially where men's desires do run  
A greedy course of eminency, gain,  
And private hopes; weighing not what is done  
For the Republic, so themselves may gain  
Their ends, and where few care who be undone,  
So they be made, whilst all do entertain  
The present motions that this passage brings  
With th' infancy of change, under new Kings.   

63  
So that the weight of all seems to rely  
Wholly upon thine own discretion,  
Thy judgement now must only rectify  
This frame of power, thy glory stands upon:  
From thee must come, that thy posterity  
May joy this Peace, and hold this union:  
For whilst all work for their own benefit,  
Thy only work must keep us all upright.   

64  
For did not now thy full maturity  
Of years and wisdom, that discern what shows,  
What art, and colours, may deceive the eye,  
Secure our trust that that clear judgement knows  
Upon what grounds depend thy Majesty,  
And whence the glory of thy greatness grows,  
We might distrust lest that a side might part  
Thee from thyself, and so surprise thy heart.   

65  
Since th'art but one, and that against thy breast  
Are laid all th'engines both of Skill and Wit  
And all th'assaults of Cunning are addressed  
With stratagems of Art to enter it:  
To make a prey of grace, and to invest  
Their powers within thy love, that they might sit,  
And stir that way which their affection tends,  
Respecting but themselves, and their own ends.   

66  
And seeing how difficult a thing it is  
To rule, and what strength is required to stand,  
Against all the'interplaced respondences  
Of combinations, set to keep the hand  
And eye of power from out the provinces,  
That Avarice may draw to her command,  
Which, to keep hers, she others vows to spare,  
That they again to her might use like care.   

67  
But God that raised thee up to act this part,  
Hath given thee all those powers of worthiness,  
Fit for so great a work, and framed thy heart  
Discernible of all apparences:  
Taught thee to know the world, and this great Art  
Oford'ring man, Knowledge of Knowledges,  
That from thee, men might reckon how this State  
Became restored, and was made fortunate.   

68  
That thou the first, with us, in name, mightst be  
The first in course, to fashion us anew,  
Wherein the times hath offered that to thee,  
Which seldom other princes could accrue:  
Thou hast th'advantage only to be free,  
T'employ thy favours where they shall be dew,  
And to dispose thy grace in general,  
And like to jove, to be alike to all. 
Est jupiter omnibus idem.    

69  
Thy fortune hath indebted thee to none,  
But t'all thy people universally,  
And not to them, but for their love alone,  
Which they account is placed worthily:  
Nor wilt thou now frustrate their hopes, whereon  
They rest, nor they fail in their loyalty;  
Since no Prince comes deceived in his trust,  
But he that first deceives, and proves unjust.   

70  
Then since we are in this so fair a way  
Of restoration, Greatness and Command,  
Cursed be he that causes the least stay  
In this fair work, or interrupts thy hand,  
And cursed he that offers to betray  
Thy graces, or thy goodness to withstand,  
Let him be held abhorred, and all his race  
Inherit but the portion of disgrace.   

71  
And he that shall, by wicked Offices,  
Be th'author of the least disturbancie,  
Or seek t' avert thy godly purposes,  
Be ever held the scorn of infamy:  
And let men but consider their success  
Who Princes loves abused presumptuously,  
They shall perceive their ends do still relate,  
That sure God loves them not whom men do hate.   

72  
And it is just, that they who make a prey  
Of Prince's favours, in the end again,  
Be made a prey to Princes, and repay  
The spoils of misery with greater gain;  
Whose sacrifices ever do allay  
The wrath of men, conceived in their disdain:  
For that their hatred prosecuteth still,  
More than ill Princes, those that make them ill.   

73  
But both thy judgement and estate doth free  
Thee, from these powers of Fear and Flattery,  
The conquerors of Kings, by whom we see  
Are wrought the acts of all impiety:  
Thou art so set, as thoust no cause to be  
jealous, or dreadful of disloyalty,  
The pedestal whereon thy Greatness stands,  
Is built of all our hearts, and all our hands.    

TO SIR THO: EGERTON KNIGHT, LORD KEEPER OF THE GREAT SEAL OF ENGLAND.  

WEll hath the powerful hand of Majesty,  
Thy worthiness, and England's hap beside,  
Set thee in th' aidfulst room of dignity,  
As th' Isthmus, these two Oceans to divide  
Of Rigour and confused Uncertainty,  
To keep out th'intercourse of wrong and pride,  
That they engulf not up unsuccoured right  
By th'extreme current of licentious might.   

Now when we see the most combining band,  
The strongest fasting of society  
Law, whereon all this frame of men doth stand,  
Remain concussed with uncertainty,  
And seem to foster rather than withstand  
Contention, and embrace obscurity,  
Only t'afflict, and not to fashion us,  
Making her cure far worse than the disease.   

As if she had made covenant with Wrong,  
To part the prey made on our weaknesses,  
And suffered Falsehood to be armed as strong  
Unto the combat as is Righteousness,  
Or suited her, as if she did belong  
Unto our passions, and did even profess  
Contention, as her only mystery,  
Which she restrains not, but doth multiply.   

Was she the same she's now in ages past,  
Or was she less when she was used less?  
And grows as malice grows, and so comes cast  
Just to the form of our unquietness?  
Or made more slow, the more that strife runs fast,  
Staying t'undo us ere she will redress?  
That th'ill she checks seems suffered to be ill,  
When it yields greater gain than goodness will.   

Must there be still some discord mixed among  
The Harmony of men, whose mood accords  
Best with Contention, tuned t'a note of wrong,  
That when war fails, peace must make war with words,  
And b'armed unto destruction even as strong,  
As were in ages past our civil sword;  
Making as deep, although unbleeding wounds,  
That when as fury fails, wisdom confounds.   

If it be wisdom, and not cunning, this  
Which so imbroyles the state of truth with brawls,  
And wraps it up in strange confusedness  
As if it lived immured within the walls,  
Of hideous terms framed out of barbarousness  
And foreign Customs, the memorial  
Of our subjection, and could never be  
Delivered but by wrangling subtlety.   

Whereas it dwells free in the open plain,  
Vncurious, Gentile, easy of access:  
Certain unto itself, of equal vain,  
One face, one colour, one assuredness;  
It's Falsehood that is intricate, and vain,  
And needs these labyrinths of subtleness.  
For where the cunningest cou'rings most appear  
It argues still that all is not sincere.   

Which thy clear eyed experience well descries,  
Great Keeper of the state of Equity,  
Refuge of mercy, upon whom relies  
The succour of oppressed misery:  
Altar of safeguard, whereto affliction flies  
From th'eager pursuit of severity:  
Haven of Peace, that labourst to withdraw  
justice, from out the tempests of the Law.   

And set her in a calm and even way,  
Plain and directly leading to redress,  
Barring these counter-courses of delay  
These wasting dilatory processes:  
Ranging into their right, and proper ray,  
Errors, demurs, essoines; and traverses,  
The heads of Hydra springing out of death  
That gives this Monster malice still new breath.   

That what was made for the utility.  
And good of man, might not be turned t'his hurt  
To make him worse by his remedy,  
And cast him down, with what should him support:  
Nor that the State of Law might lose thereby  
The due respect, and reverence of her port,  
And seem a trap to catch our ignorance  
And to entangle our intemperance.   

Since her interpretations and our deeds,  
Unto a like infinity arise,  
As being a Science, that by nature breeds  
Contention, strife and ambiguities:  
For altercation controversy feeds,  
And in her agitation multiplies:  
The field of Cavil lying all like wide,  
Yealds like advantage unto either side.   

Which made the grave castilian King devise  
A prohibition, 
Ferdinand king of Castille.  that no Advocate  
Should be conveyed to th' Indian Colonies,  
Lest their new setting, shaken with debate,  
Might take but slenderroote, and so not rise  
To any perfect growth of firm estate,  
For having not this skill, how to contend,  
Th'unnourished strife would quickly make an end.   

So likewise did th'Hungarian, when he saw  
These great Italian Bartolists, 
The king of Hungary.  who were  
Called in, of purpose to explain the Law,  
T'embroil it more, and make it much less clear,  
Caused them from out his Kingdom to withdraw  
With this infestious skill someother-where:  
Whose learning rather let men farther out, 
Difficultatem facit doctrinae.   
And opened wider passages of doubt.   

Seeing even Injustice may be regulare;  
And no proportion can there be betwixt  
Our actions which in endless motion are  
And th'Ordinances which are always fixed.  
Ten thousand Laws more, cannot reach so far,  
But Malice goes beyond, or lives immixed  
So close with goodness, as it ever will  
Corrupt, disguise or counterfeit it still.   

And therefore did those glorious Monarches, (who  
Divide with God the Style of Majesty  
For being good, and had a care to do  
The world right, and succour honesty)  
Ordain this sanctuary whereunto  
Th'oppressed might fly, this seat of Equity  
Whereon thy virtues sit with fair renown,  
The greatest grace and glory of the Gown.   

Which Equity being the soul of Law  
The life of justice, and the Spirit of right,  
Dwell's not in written Lines, or lives in awe  
Of Books; deaf powers that have nor ears, nor sight:  
But out of well-weighed circumstance doth draw  
The essence of a judgement requisite:  
And is that Lesbian square, that building fit,  
Plies to the work, not forc'th the work to it.   

Maintaining still an equal parallel  
Just with th'occasions of humanity,  
Making her judgements ever liable  
To the respect of peace and amity:  
When surly Law, stern, and unaffable,  
Cares only but itself to satisfy:  
And often, innocency scarce defends,  
As that which on no circumstance depends.   

But Equity that bears an even rain  
Upon the present courses, holds in awe,  
By giving hand a little, and doth gain  
By a gentle relaxation of the Law;  
And yet inviolable doth maintain  
The end whereto all constitutions draw;  
Which is the welfare of society  
Consisting of an upright policy.   

Which first being by Necessity composed,  
Is by Necessity maintained in best estate, 
Necessitas est lex temporu●.   
Where, whenas justice shall be ill disposed  
It sickens the whole body of the State:  
For if there be a passage once disclosed  
That Wrong may enter at the self-same gate  
Which serves for Right, clad in a coat of Law,  
What violent distempers may it draw?   

And therefore dost thou stand to keep the way,  
And stop the course that malice seeks to run  
And by thy provident Injunctions stay  
This never ending Altercation;  
Sending contention home, to th'end men may  
There make their peace, whereas their strife begun:  
And free these pestered streets they vainly wear  
Whom both the State, and theirs, do need elsewhere.   

Lest th'humor which doth thus predominate  
Convert unto itself all that it takes;  
And that the law grow larger than debate,  
And come t'exceed th'affairs it undertakes:  
As if the only Science of the State  
That took up all our wits for gain it makes;  
Not for the good that thereby may be wrought  
Which is not good if it be dearly bought.   

What shall we think when as ill causes shall  
Enrich men more, and shall be more desired  
Then good, as far more beneficial?  
Who then defends the good? who will be hired  
To entertain a right, 
A remedy for defending ill causes.  whose gain is small?  
Unless the Advocate that hath conspired  
To plead a wrong, be likewise made to run  
His Client's chance, and with him be undunne.   

So did the wisest nations ever strive  
To bind the hands of justice up so hard,  
That lest she falling to prove Lucrative  
Might basely reach them out to take reward:  
Ordaining her provisions fit to live  
Out of the public as a public Guard  
That all preserves, and all doth entertain,  
Whose end is only glory, and not gain.   

That e'en the Sceptre which might all command,  
Seeing her sh' unpartial, equal, regulare,  
Was pleased to put itself into her hand;  
Whereby they both grew more admired far.  
And this is that great blessing of this land,  
That both the Prince and people use one Bar,  
The Prince, whose cause, (as not to be withstood)  
Is never bad but where himself is good.   

This is that Balance which committed is  
To thy most even and religious hand;  
Great Minister of justice, who by this  
Shalt have thy name, still gracious in this land:  
This is that seal of power which doth impress  
Thy Acts of right, which shall for ever stand:  
This is that train of State, that pompously  
Attends upon thy reverent dignity.   

All glory else beside, ends with our breath,  
And men's respects scarce brings us to our grave:  
But this of doing good, must outlive Death,  
And have a right out of the right it gave:  
Though th'act but few, th'example profiteth  
Thousands, that shall thereby a blessing have.  
The world's respect grows not but on deserts,  
power may have knees, but justice hath our hearts.    

TO THE LORD HENRY HOWARD, ONE OF HIS majesties PRIVY COUNCIL.  
PRaise, if it be not choice, and laid aright,  
Can yield no lustre where it is bestowed,  
Nor any way can grace the givers Art,  
(Tho'it be a pleasing colour to delight,)  
For that no ground whereon it can be show'd  
Will bear it well, but Virtue and Desert.  
And though I might commend your learning, wit,  
And happy utterance, and commend them right,  
As that which decks you much, and gives you grace,  
Yet your clear judgement best deserveth it,  
Which in your course hath carried you upright,  
And made you to discern the truest face,  
And best complexion of the things that breed  
The reputation and the love of men.  
And held you in the tract of honesty  
Which ever in the end we see succeed,  
Though oft it may have interrupted been,  
Both by the times and men's iniquity.  
For sure those actions which do fairly run  
In the right line of Honour, still are those  
That get most clean, and safest to their end,  
And pass the best without confusion,  
Either in those that act or else dispose,  
Having the scope made clear whereto they tend.  
When this bypath of cunning doth s'imbroile  
And intricate the passage of affairs,  
As that they seldom fairly can get out;  
But cost, with less success, more care and toil  
Whilst doubt and the distrusted cause impairs  
Their courage, who would else appear more stout.  
For though some hearts are builded so, that they  
Have divers doors, whereby they may let out  
Their wills abroad without disturbancie,  
Int'any course, and into every way  
Of humour, that affection turns about,  
Yet have the best but one t' have passage by.  
And that so surely warded with the Guard  
Of Conscience and respect, as nothing must  
Have course that way, but with the certain pass  
Of a persuasive right, which being compared  
With their conceit, must thereto answer just,  
And so with due examination pass.  
Which kind of men, raised of a better frame  
Are mere religious, constant and upright,  
And bring the ablest hands for any ' effect,  
And best bear up the reputation, fame  
And good opinion that the Action's right,  
When th'undertakers are without suspect.  
But when the body of an enterprise  
Shall go one way, the face another way,  
As if it did but mock a weaker trust,  
The motion being monstrous cannot rise  
To any good, but falls down to bewray  
That all pretences serve for things unjust.  
Especially where th'action will allow  
Apparancie, or that it hath a course  
Concentrike with the Universal frame  
Of men combined, whom it concerneth how  
These motions turn and entertain their force,  
Having their being resting on the same.  
And be it, that the vulgar are but gross  
Yet are they capable of truth, and see,  
And sometimes guess the right, and do conceive  
The Nature of that text, that needs a gloss,  
And wholly never can deluded be,  
All may a few, few cannot all deceive.  
And these strange disproportions in the train  
And course of things, do evermore proceed  
From th'ill-set disposition of their minds,  
Who in their actions cannot but retain  
Th'encumbered forms which do within them breed,  
And which they cannot show but in their kinds.  
Whereas the ways and councils of the Light,  
So sort with valour and with manliness,  
As that they carry things assuredly  
Vndazeling of their own or others sight:  
There being a blessing that doth give success  
To worthiness, and unto constancy.  
And though sometimes th'event may fall amiss,  
Yet shall it still have honour for th' attempt,  
When Craft begins with fear, and ends with shame,  
And in the whole design perplexed is.  
Virtue, though luckless; yet shall scape contempt,  
And though it hath not hap, it shall have fame.   

TO THE LADY MARGARET COUNTESS OF CUMBERLAND.  

HE that of such a height hath built his mind,  
And reared the dwelling of his thoughts so strong  
As neither Fear nor Hope can shake the frame  
Of his resolved powers, nor all the wind  
Of Vanity or Malice, pierce to wrong  
His settled peace, or to disturb the same,  
What a fair seat hath he from whence he may  
The boundless wastes, and wields of man survey.   

And with how free an eye doth he look down,  
Upon these lower Regions of turmoil,  
Where all these storms of passions mainly beat  
On flesh and blood, where honour, power, renown  
Are only gay afflictions, golden toil,  
Where Greatness stands upon as feeble feet  
As Frailty doth, and only great doth seem  
To little minds, who do it so esteem.   

He looks upon the mightiest Monarches wars  
But only as on stately robberies,  
Where evermore the fortune that prevails  
Must be the right, the ill-succeeding mars  
The fairest and the best-faced enterprise:  
Great Pirate Pompey dat Pirates quails,  
justice, he sees, as if seduced, still  
Conspires with power, whose cause must not be ill.   

He sees the face of Right t'appear as manifold  
As are the passions of uncertain man,  
Who puts it in all colours, all attires  
To serve his ends, and make his courses hold:  
He sees that let Deceit work what it can,  
Plot and contrive base ways to high desires,  
That the all-guiding Providence doth yet  
All disappoint, and mocks this smoke of wit.   

Nor is he moved with all the thunder cracks  
Of Tyrant's threats, or with the surly brow  
Of power, that proudly sits on others crimes,  
Charged with more crying sins, than those he checks:  
The storms of sad confusion that may grow  
Up in the present, for the coming times,  
Appall not him, that hath no side at all  
But of himself, and knows the worst can fall.   

Although his heart so near allied to earth,  
Cannot but pity the perplexed State  
Of troublous, and distressed mortality,  
That thus make way unto the ugly birth  
Of their own sorrows, and do still beget  
Affliction upon imbecility:  
Yet seeing thus the course of things must run,  
He looks thereon, not strange, but as foredun.   

And whilst distraught Ambition compasses  
And is encompassed, whilst as craft deceives  
And is deceived, whilst man doth ransack man  
And builds on blood, and rises by distress,  
And th'inheritance of desolation leaves  
To great expecting hopes, he looks thereon  
As from the shore of peace with unwet eye  
And bears no venture in impiety.   

Thus, Madam, fares the man that hath prepared  
A rest for his desires, and sees all things  
Beneath him, and hath learned this book of man,  
Full of the notes of frailty, and compared  
The best of glory with her sufferings,  
By whom I see you labour all you can  
To plant your heart, and set your thought as near  
His glorious mansion, as your powers can bear.   

Which, Madam, are so sound fashioned,  
By that clear judgement that hath carried you  
Beyond the feeble limits of your kind,  
As they can stand against the strongest head  
Passion can make, enured to any hue  
The world can cast, that cannot cast that mind  
Out of her form of goodness, that doth see  
Both what the best and worst of earth can be.   

Which makes, that whatsoever here befalls,  
You in the region of yourself remain,  
Where no vain breath of th'impudent molests,  
That hath secured within the brazen walls  
Of a clear conscience, that without all stain  
Rises in peace, in innocency rests:  
Whilst all what malice from without procures,  
Shows her own ugly heart, but hurts not yours.   

And whereas none rejoice more in revenge  
Then women use to do, yet you well know,  
That wrong is better checked, by being contemned,  
Then being pursued, leaving to him t'avenge  
To whom it appertains, wherein you show  
How worthily your Clearness hath condemned  
Base malediction, living in the dark,  
That at the rays of goodness still doth bark.   

Knowing the heart of man is set to be  
The centre of his world, about the which  
These revolutions of disturbances  
Still roll, where all th'aspects of misery  
Predominate, whose strong effects are such  
As he must bear, being powerless to redress,  
And that unless above himself he can  
Erect himself, how poor a thing is man?   

And how turmoiled they are that level lie  
With earth, and cannot lift themselves from thence,  
That never are at peace with their desires,  
But work beyond their years, and even deny  
Dotage her rest, and hardly will dispense  
With Death: that when ability expires,  
Desire lives still, so much delight they have  
To carry toil, and travail to the grave.   

Whose ends you see, and what can be the best  
They reach unto, when they have cast the sum  
And reckonings of their glory, and you know  
This floating life hath but this Port of rest,  
A heart prepared that fears no ill to come:  
And that man's greatness rests but in his show;  
The best of all whose days consumed are,  
Either in war, or peace conceiving war.   

This Concord (Madam) of a wel-tuned mind  
Hath been so set by that all-working hand  
Of heaven, that though the world hath done his worst,  
To put it out, by discords most unkind,  
Yet doth it still in perfect union stand  
With God and Man, nor ever will be forced  
From that most sweet accord, but still agree  
Equal in Fortune's inequality.   

And this note (Madam) of your Worthiness  
Remains recorded in so many Hearts  
As time nor malice cannot wrong your right  
In th' inheritance of Fame you must possess,  
You that have built you by your great deserts,  
Out of small means, a far more exquisite  
And glorious dwelling for your honoured name  
Then all the gold of leaden minds can frame.   S. D.  

TO THE LADY LVCIE, COUNTESS OF BEDFORD.  
THough virtue be the same when low she stands  
In th'humble shadows of obscurity  
As when she either sweats in martial bands,  
Or sits in Court, clad with authority:  
Yet Madam, doth the strictness of her room  
Greatly detract from her ability:  
For as inwalld within a living tomb  
Her hands and arms of action, labour not;  
Her thoughts as if abortive from the womb,  
Come never borne, though happily begot.  
But where she shath mounted in open sight  
An eminent, and spacious dwelling got.  
Where she may stir at will, and use her might,  
There is she more herself, and more her own:  
There in the fair attire of honour dight,  
She sits at ease and makes her glory known,  
Applause attends her hands, her deeds have grace,  
Her worth new-born is strait as if fulgrowne,  
With such a goodly and respected face  
Doth virtue look, that's set to look from high,  
And such a fair advantage by her place  
Hath state and greatness to do worthily.  
And therefore well did your high fortunes meet  
With her, that gracing you, comes graced thereby,  
And well was let into a house so sweet  
So good, so fair; so fair, so good a guest,  
Who now remains as blessed in her seat,  
As you are with her residency blessed.  
And this fair course of knowledge whereunto  
Your studies, learned Lady, are addressed,  
Is th'only certain way that you can go  
Unto true glory, to true happiness:  
All passages on earth beside, are so  
Encumbered with such vain disturbances,  
As still we lose our rest, in seeking it,  
Being but deluded with appearances.  
And no key had you else that was so fit  
T'unlock that prison of your Sex, as this,  
To let you out of weakness, and admit  
Your powers into the freedom of that bliss  
That sets you there where you may oversee  
This rolling world, and view it as it is,  
And apprehend how th'outsides do agree  
With th'inward being of the things, we deem  
And hold in our ill-cast accounts, to be  
Of highest value, and of best esteem.  
Since all the good we have rests in the mind,  
By whose proportions only we redeem  
Our thoughts from out confusion, and do find  
The measure of ourselves, and of our powers.  
And that all happiness remains confined  
Within the Kingdom of this breast of ours.  
Without whose bounds, all that we look on, lies  
In others jurisdictions, others powers,  
Out of the circuit of our liberties.  
All glory, honour, fame, applause, renown,  
Are not belonging to our royalties,  
But tother's wills, wherein theyare only grown.  
And that unless we find us all within,  
We never can without us be our own:  
Nor call it right, our life we live in.  
But a possession held for others use,  
That seem to have most int' rest therein.  
Which we do so dissever, part, traduce,  
Let out to custom fashion and to show  
As we enjoy but only the abuse,  
And have no other Deed at all to show.  
How oft are we constrained to appear  
With other countenance then that we owe,  
And be ourselves far off, when we are near?  
How oft are we forced on a cloudy heart,  
To set a shining face, and make it clear.  
Seeming content to put ourselves apart,  
To bear a part of others weaknesses:  
As if we only were composed by Art,  
Not Nature, and did all our deeds address  
T'opinion, not t'a conscience what is right:  
As framed b'example, not advisedness  
Into those forms that entertain our sight.  
And though Books, Madam, cannot make this mind,  
Which we must bring apt to be set aright,  
Yet do they rectify it in that kind,  
And touch it so, as that it turns that way  
Where judgement lies: And though we cannot find  
The certain place of truth, yet do they stay,  
And entertain us near about the same.  
And give the Soul the best delights that may  
Encheere it most, and most our spirits inflame  
To thoughts of glory, and to worthy ends.  
And therefore in a course that best became  
The clearness of your heart, and best commends  
Your worthy powers, you run the rightest way  
That is on Earth, that can true glory give,  
By which when all consumes, your fame shall live.   

TO THE LADY ANNE CLIFFORD.  
Unto the tender youth of those fair eyes  
The light of judgement can arise but new  
And young the world appears t'a young conceit,  
Whilst thorough th'unacquainted faculties  
The late invested soul doth rawly view  
Those Objects which on that discretion wait.  
Yet you that such a fair advantage have,  
Both by your birth, and happy powers t'out-go,  
And be before your years, can fairly guess  
What hue of life holds surest without stain,  
Having your wrought heart full furnished so  
With all the images of worthiness,  
As there is left no room at all t'invest  
Figures of other form but Sanctity:  
Whilst yet those cleane-created thoughts, within  
The Garden of your innocency's rest,  
Where are no notions of deformity  
Nor any door at all to let them in.  
With so great care doth she, that hath brought forth  
That comely body, labour to adorn  
That better part, the mansion of your mind,  
With all the richest furniture of worth,  
To make y'as highly good as highly borne,  
And set your virtues equal to your kind.  
She tells you how that honour only is  
A goodly garment put on fair deserts,  
Wherein the smallest stain is greatest seen,  
And that it cannot grace unworthiness;  
But more apparent shows defective parts,  
How gay soever they are decked therein.  
She tells you too, how that it bounded is,  
And kept enclosed with so many eyes,  
As that it cannot stray and break abroad  
Into the private ways of carelessness,  
Nor ever may descend to vulgarize,  
Or be below the sphere of her abode.  
But like to those supernal bodies set  
Within their Orbs, must keep the certain course  
Of order, destined to their proper place;  
Which only doth their note of glory get.  
Th'irregular appearances enforce  
A short respect, and perish without grace.  
Being Meteors seeming high, but yet low placed,  
Blazing but while their dying matters last,  
Nor can we take the just height of the mind,  
But by that order which her course doth show:  
And which such splendour to her actions gives,  
And thereby men her eminency find,  
And thereby only do attain to know  
The Region, and the Orb wherein she lives.  
For low in th'air of gross uncertainty,  
Cofusion only rowles, Order sits high.  
And therefore since the dearest thing on earth,  
This honour, Madam, hath his stately frame  
From th'heavenly order, which begets respect,  
And that your nature, virtue, happy birth,  
Have therein highly interplaced your name,  
You may not run the least course of neglect.  
For where, not to observe, is to profane  
Your dignity, how careful must you be  
To be yourself, and though you may to all  
Shine fair aspects, yet must the virtuous gain  
The best effects of your benignity:  
Nor must your common grace's cause to fall  
The price of your esteem t'a lower rate,  
Then doth befit the pitch of your estate.  
Nor may you build on your sufficiency,  
For in our strongest parts we are but weak,  
Nor yet may overmuch distrust the same,  
Lest that you come to check it so thereby,  
As silence may become worse than to speak;  
Though silence women never ill became.  
And none, we see, were ever overthrown  
By others flattery more than by their own.  
For though we live amongst the tongues of praise  
And troops of soothing people, that collaud  
All that we do, yet 'tis within our heart's  
Th'ambushment lies, that evermore betrays  
Our judgements, when ourselves become t'applaud  
Our own ability, and our own parts.  
So that we must not only fence this fort  
Of ours, against all others fraud, but most  
Against our own, whose danger is the most,  
Because we lie the nearest to do hurt,  
And soonest deceive ourselves, and soonest are lost  
By our best powers that do us most transport.  
Such are your holy bounds, who must convey  
(If God so please) the honourable blood  
Of Clifford, and of Russell, led aright  
To many worthy stems whose offspring may  
Look back with comfort, to have had that good  
To spring from such a branch that grew s'vpright;  
Since nothing cheers the heart of greatness more  
Than th'Ancestors fair glory gone before.   

TO HENRY WRIOTHESLY EARL OF SOUTHAMPTON. Nonfert ullum ictum illaesa foelicitas.  

HE who hath never warred with misery,  
Nor ever tugged with Fortune, and Distress  
Hath had n'occasion nor no field to try  
The strength and forces of his worthiness:  
Those parts of judgement which felicity  
Keeps as concealed, affliction must express;  
And only men show their abilities,  
And what they are, in their extremities.   

The world had never taken so full note  
Of what thou art, hadst thou not been undone,  
And only thy affliction hath begot  
More fame than thy best fortunes could have done:  
For ever by adversity are wrought  
The greatest works of admiration,  
And all the fair examples of renown,  
Out of distress and misery are grown.   

Mutius the fire, the tortures Regular,  
Did make the miracles of Faith and Zeal:  
Exile renowned, and Graced Rutilius:  
Imprisonment, and Poison did reveal  
The worth of Socrates: Fabricius  
poverty did grace that Commonweal  
More than all Sulla's riches got withstrife,  
And Cato's death did vie with, Caesar's life.   

Not to b'vnhappy is unhappiness;  
And misery not t'have known misery:  
For the best way unto discretion is  
The way that leads us by adversity:  
And men are better show'd what is amiss,  
By th'expert finger of Calamity,  
Then they can be with all that Fortune brings,  
Who never shows them the true face of things.   

How could we know that thou couldst have endured  
With a reposed cheer, wrong and disgrace,  
And with a heart and countenance aslured  
Have looked stern Death, and Horror in the face?  
How should we know thy soul had been secured  
In honest counsels, and in ways unbase?  
Hadst thou not stood to show us what thou wert,  
By thy affliction, that descried thy heart.   

It is not but the Tempest that doth show  
The Seaman's cunning: but the field that tries  
The captains courage: and we come to know  
Best what men are, in their worst jeopardies:  
For lo, how many have we seen to grow  
To high renown from lowest miseries,  
Out of the hands of death, and many a one  
T'have been undone, had they not been undone.   

He that endures for what his conscience knows  
Not to be ill, doth from a patience hie  
Look, only on the cause whereto he owes  
Those sufferings, not on his misery:  
The more h'indures, the more his glory grows,  
Which never grows from imbecility:  
Only the best composed, and worthiest hearts,  
God sets to act the hardest and constantest parts.