No More Learning

A colony of French possess the court ;
Pimps, priests, buffoons, in privy-chamber sport.
Such slimy monsters ne*er approached a tluone,
Since Pharaoh's days, nor so defiled a crown.
In sacred ear tyrannic arts they croak,
Pi^rvert his mind, and good intentions choke,
Tell him of golden Indias, fairy lands,
Leviathan, and absolute commands.
Tims fairy-like, they steal the king away,
And in his room a changeling Lewis lay.



* L'. 'igh and Galloway were suspected to be hrlUed by
Lor. I Danby, to side with the court.



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OP MABVELL. 201

How oft have I him to himself restored,

In 's lefl the scale, in 's right hand placed the

sword?
Taught him their use, what dangers would ensue
To them who strive to separate these two ?
The bloody Scottish chronicle read o'er,
Showed him how manj kings, in purple
Were hurled to hell, by cruel tyrant lort



1
>\e gore, >

are ? J



The other day famed Spenser I did bring,
In lofty notes Tudor's blessed race to sing ;
How Spain's proud powers her virgin arms con-
trolled,
And golden days in peaceful order rolled ;
How like ripe fruit she dropped from off her

throne.
Full of gray hairs, good deeds, and great renown.
As the Jessean hero did appease
Saul's stormy rage, and stopped his black disease.
So the learned bard, with artful song, suppressed
The swelling passion of his cankered breast.
And in his heart kind influences shed
Of country's love, by truth and justice bred.
Then to perform the cure so well begun,
To him I showed this glonous setting sun ;
How, by her people's looks pursued from far,
She mounted on a bright celestial car, .
Outshining Virgo, or the Julian star.
Whilst in truth's mirror this good scene he spied.
Entered a dame, bedecked with spotted pride.



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202 THE POEMS

Fair flower-de-luce within an azure field,
Her left hand bears the ancient Gallic shield,
By her usurped ; her right a bloody sword,
Inscribed Leviathan, our sovereign Lord ;
Her towery front a fiery meteor bears,
An exhalation bred of blood and tears ;
Around her Jove's lewd ravenous curs com-
plain.
Pale death, lust, tortures, fill her pompous

train;
She from the easy king Truth's mirror took.
And on the ground in spiteful fall it broke ;
Then frowning thus, with proud disdain she
spoke:



f



"Are thread-bare virtues ornaments for kings ?
Such poor pedantic toys teach underlings.
Do monarchs rise by virtue, or by sword ?
Who e'er grew great by keeping of his word ?
Virtue's a faint green-sickness to brave souls,
Dastards their hearts, their active heat controls.
The rival gods, monarchs of t'other world,
This mortal poison among princes hurled,
Fearing the mighty projects of the great %

Should drive them from their proud celestial I

seat, [

If not o'erawed by this new holy cheat. ^

Those pious frauds, too slight to ensnare the

brave.
Are proper arts the long-eared rout to ( us lave.



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OP MARVELL.