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spicious Star, Lov'd by the best, and prais'd by every Tongue, The glorious Subject of each worthy Song: The young man's Wish, Joy of each Warlike Wight, The People's Darling, and the World's Delight. A Crowd of Vertues fill your Princely Breast, } And what appears more glorious than the rest, } You are of Truth and Loyalty possest. } That I would cherish in you, that would raise To an admired height, that I would chiefly praise. Let Fools and subtil Politicians scorn Fair Vertue, which doth best a Prince adorn: Whilst you her bright and shining Robes put on, You will appear more great than _Solomon_. Let not Great Prince, the Fumes of Vulgar Praise, Your bolder Spirits to Ambition raise. We cannot see into the Mist of Fate, Till time brings forth, you must expecting wait; But Fortune, rather Providence, not Chance, The constant, stout, and wise doth still advance. Let your quick Eye be to her Motions ty'd; But still let Noble Vertue be your Guide: For when that God and Vertue points the way, There can be then no danger to obey. But here in Wisdom's School we ought to learn, How we 'twixt Good and Evil may discern, For, noble Prince, you must true difference make, Lest for the one the other you mistake. You must not think you may your self advance, By laying hold on every proffer'd chance. Tho Fortune seems to smile, and egg you on, Let Vertue be your Rule and Guide alone. Thus _David_ for his Guide his Vertue took; Nor was by Fortune's proffer'd Kindness shook. His Vertue and his Loyalty did save King _Saul_, when Fortune brought him to his Cave, And if that I may to you Counsel give, You should without a Crown for ever live, Rather than get it by the Peoples Lust, Or purchase it by ways that are unjust. _David_ your Ancestor, from whom you spring, Would never by Rebellion be made King; But long in _Gath_ a Warring Exile stay'd, Till for him God a lawful way had made. In _Hebron_, full of Glory and Renown, He gain'd, at last, and not usurpt the Crown. By full Consent he did the same obtain, And Heav'n's anointing Oyl was not in vain. I once did seem to _Amazia_ dear, Who me above m'ambitious hopes did rear; I serv'd him then according to my skill, And bow'd my Mind unto my Soveraign's Will. Too neer the Soveraign Image then I stood, To think that every Line and Stroke was good. Some Daubers I endeavour'd to remove, And to amend their artless Errours strove. My Skill in secret these with sland
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