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On the Monument of the Marquis of Winchester HE who in impious times untainted stood And midst rebellion durst be just and good, Whose arms asserted, and whose sufferings more Confirm’d the cause for which he fought before, Rests here, rewarded by an heavenly prince For what his earthly could not recompense. Pray, reader, that such times no more appear; Or, if they happen, learn true honour here. Ark of thy age’s faith and loyalty, Which, to preserve them, Heaven confin’d in thee. Few subjects could a king like thine deserve; And fewer such a king so well could serve. Blest king, blest subject, whose exalted state By sufferings rose and gave the law to fate! Such souls are rare, but mighty patterns given To earth were meant for ornaments to Heav’n. John Dryden's other poems:
Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1580 |
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