Full of yourself, you can admit no more: 
  We add not to your glory, but employ
  Our time, like angels, in expressing joy. 
  Nor is it duty, or our hopes alone,
  Create that joy, but full fruition:  70
  We know those blessings, which we must possess,
  And judge of future by past happiness. 
  No promise can oblige a prince so much
  Still to be good, as long to have been such. 
  A noble emulation heats your breast,
  And your own fame now robs you of your rest. 
  Good actions still must be maintain’d with good,
  As bodies nourish’d with resembling food.

  You have already quench’d sedition’s brand;
  And zeal, which burnt it, only warms the land. 80
  The jealous sects, that dare not trust their cause
  So far from their own will as to the laws,
  You for their umpire and their synod take,
  And their appeal alone to Caesar make. 
  Kind Heaven so rare a temper did provide,
  That guilt, repenting, might in it confide. 
  Among our crimes oblivion may be set;
  But ’tis our king’s perfection to forget. 
  Virtues unknown to these rough northern climes
  From milder heavens you bring, without their crimes. 90
  Your calmness does no after-storms provide,
  Nor seeming patience mortal anger hide. 
  When empire first from families did spring,
  Then every father govern’d as a king: 
  But you, that are a sovereign prince, allay
  Imperial power with your paternal sway. 
  From those great cares when ease your soul unbends,
  Your pleasures are design’d to noble ends: 
  Born to command the mistress of the seas,
  Your thoughts themselves in that blue empire please. 100
  Hither in summer evenings you repair
  To taste the fraicheur of the purer air: 
  Undaunted here you ride, when winter raves,
  With Caesar’s heart that rose above the waves. 
  More I could sing, but fear my numbers stays;
  No loyal subject dares that courage praise. 
  In stately frigates most delight you find,
  Where well-drawn battles fire your martial mind. 
  What to your cares we owe, is learnt from hence,
  When even your pleasures serve for our defence. 110
  Beyond your court flows in th’ admitted tide,
  Where in new depths the wondering fishes glide: 
  Here in a royal bed[30] the waters sleep;
  When tired at sea, within this bay they creep. 
  Here the mistrustful fowl no harm suspects,
  So safe are all things which our king protects. 
  From your loved Thames a blessing yet is due,
  Second alone to that it brought in you;
  A queen, near whose chaste womb, ordain’d by fate,
  The souls of kings unborn for bodies wait. 120
  It was your love before made discord cease: 
  Your love is destined to your country’s