Born to sustain and prop the nation’s weight: 
  If my young Samson will pretend a call
  To shake the column, let him share the fall: 
  But oh, that yet he would repent and live! 
  How easy ’tis for parents to forgive! 
  With how few tears a pardon might be won
  From nature, pleading for a darling son! 960
  Poor, pitied youth, by my paternal care,
  Raised up to all the height his frame could bear! 
  Had God ordain’d his fate for empire born,
  He would have given his soul another turn: 
  Gull’d with a patriot’s name, whose modern sense
  Is one that would by law supplant his prince;
  The people’s brave, the politician’s tool;
  Never was patriot yet, but was a fool. 
  Whence comes it, that religion and the laws
  Should more be Absalom’s than David’s cause? 970
  His old instructor, ere he lost his place,
  Was never thought endued with so much grace. 
  Good heavens, how faction can a patriot paint! 
  My rebel ever proves my people’s saint. 
  Would they impose an heir upon the throne,
  Let Sanhedrims be taught to give their own. 
  A king’s at least a part of government;
  And mine as requisite as their consent: 
  Without my leave a future king to choose,
  Infers a right the present to depose. 980
  True, they petition me to approve their choice: 
  But Esau’s hands suit ill with Jacob’s voice. 
  My pious subjects for my safety pray,
  Which to secure, they take my power away. 
  From plots and treasons Heaven preserve my years,
  But save me most from my petitioners! 
  Insatiate as the barren womb or grave,
  God cannot grant so much as they can crave. 
  What then is left, but with a jealous eye
  To guard the small remains of royalty? 990
  The law shall still direct my peaceful sway,
  And the same law teach rebels to obey: 
  Votes shall no more establish’d power control,
  Such votes as make a part exceed the whole. 
  No groundless clamours shall my friends remove,
  Nor crowds have power to punish ere they prove;
  For gods and god-like kings their care express,
  Still to defend their servants in distress. 
  O that my power to saving were confined! 
  Why am I forced, like Heaven, against my mind; 1000
  To make examples of another kind? 
  Must I at length the sword of justice draw? 
  Oh, cursed effects of necessary law! 
  How ill my fear they by my mercy scan! 
  Beware the fury of a patient man! 
  Law they require, let law then show her face;
  They could not be content to look on grace,
  Her hinder parts, but with a daring eye
  To tempt the terror of her front and die. 
  By their own arts ’tis righteously decreed, 1010
  Those dire artificers of death shall bleed.