ill,
  For royal blood within him struggled still,
  He thus replied:—­And what pretence have I
  To take up arms for public liberty? 
  My father governs with unquestion’d right,
  The faith’s defender, and mankind’s delight;
  Good, gracious, just, observant of the laws;
  And Heaven by wonders has espoused his cause. 320
  Whom has he wrong’d, in all his peaceful reign? 
  Who sues for justice to his throne in vain? 
  What millions has he pardon’d of his foes,
  Whom just revenge did to his wrath expose! 
  Mild, easy, humble, studious of our good;
  Inclined to mercy, and averse from blood. 
  If mildness ill with stubborn Israel suit,
  His crime is God’s beloved attribute. 
  What could he gain his people to betray,
  Or change his right for arbitrary sway? 330
  Let haughty Pharaoh curse with such a reign
  His fruitful Nile, and yoke a servile train. 
  If David’s rule Jerusalem displease,
  The dog-star heats their brains to this disease. 
  Why then should I, encouraging the bad,
  Turn rebel and run popularly mad? 
  Were he a tyrant, who by lawless might
  Oppress’d the Jews, and raised the Jebusite,
  Well might I mourn; but nature’s holy bands
  Would curb my spirits, and restrain my hands:  340
  The people might assert their liberty;
  But what was right in them were crime in me. 
  His favour leaves me nothing to require,
  Prevents my wishes, and outruns desire. 
  What more can I expect while David lives? 
  All but his kingly diadem he gives: 
  And that—­But here he paused; then, sighing, said—­
  Is justly destined for a worthier head. 
  For when my father from his toils shall rest,
  And late augment the number of the blest, 350
  His lawful issue shall the throne ascend,
  Or the collateral line, where that shall end. 
  His brother, though oppress’d with vulgar spite,
  Yet dauntless, and secure of native right,
  Of every royal virtue stands possess’d;
  Still dear to all the bravest and the best. 
  His courage foes—­his friends his truth proclaim;
  His loyalty the king—­the world his fame. 
  His mercy even the offending crowd will find;
  For sure he comes of a forgiving kind. 360
  Why should I then repine at Heaven’s decree,
  Which gives me no pretence to royalty? 
  Yet, oh! that fate, propitiously inclined,
  Had raised my birth, or had debased my mind;
  To my large soul not all her treasure lent,
  And then betray’d it to a mean descent! 
  I find, I find my mounting spirits bold,
  And David’s part disdains my mother’s mould. 
  Why am I scanted by a niggard birth? 
  My soul disclaims the kindred of her earth; 370
  And, made for empire, whispers me within,
  Desire of greatness is a god-like sin.