As those who pass the Alps do say, The Rocks which first oppose their way, And so amazing-High do show, By fresh Ascents appear but low, And when they come unto the last, They scorn the dwarfish Hills th'ave past. So though my Muse at her first flight, Thought she had chose the greatest height, And (imp'd with Alexander's Name) Believ'd there was no further Fame: Behold an Eye wholly Divine Vouchsaf'd upon my Verse to Shine! And from that time I'gan to treat With Pitty him the World call'd Great; To smile at his exalted Fate, Now surely I shall reach the Clouds, For none besides such Vertue shrouds: Having scal'd this with holy Strains, Nought higher but the Heaven remains! No more I'll Praise on them bestow, Who to ill Deeds their Glories owe; Who build their Babels of Renown, Upon the poor oppressed Crown, Whole Kingdoms do depopulate, To raise a Proud and short-Liv'd State: I prize no more such Frantick Might, Than his that did with Wind-Mills Fight: No, give me Prowess, that with Charms 'Alone she stands for Vertues Cause, When all decry, upholds her Laws: When to Banish her is the Strife, Keeps her unexil'd in her Life; Guarding her matchless Innocence From Storms of boldest Impudence; In spight of all the Scoffs and Rage, And Persecutions of the Age, Owns Vertues Altar, feeds the Flame, Adores her much-derided Name; While impiously her hands they tie, How dares bold Vice unmasked walk, And like a Giant proudly stalk? When Vertue's so exalted seen, Arm'd and Triumphant in the Queen? How dares its Ulcerous Face appear, When Heavenly Beauty is so near? But so when God was close at hand, And the bright Cloud did threatning stand (In sight of Israel) on the Tent, They on in their Rebellion went. O that I once so happy were, To find a nearer Shelter there! Till then poor Dove, I wandering fly |