Classic Poem

Proud Monuments of Royal Dust!
Do not your old Foundations shake,
And labour to resign their trust?
For sure your mighty Guests should wake,
Now their own Memphis lies at Stake.

Alas! in vain our Dangers call;
They care not for our Destiny,
Nor will they be concern'd at all
In Egypt now, enslav'd or free,
A Kingdom or a Province be.

What is become of all they did?
And what of all they had design'd?
Now death the busie Scene hath hid,
Where but in story shall we find
Those great disturbers of Mankind?

When Men their quiet Minutes spent
Where Mirtles grew and Fountains purl'd,
As safe as they were Innocent:
What angry God among them hurl'd
Ambition, to undoe the World?

What is the charm of being Great?
Which oft is gain'd and lost with Sin:
Or if w'attain a Royal seat,
With Guiltless steps, what do we win,
If Love and Honour fight within?

Honour, the Brightness of the Mind!
And love, her noblest extasie:
That does our selves, this others bind.
When you, great Pair, shall disagree,
What Casuist can the Umpire be?

Though Love does all the heart subdue,
With gentle, but resistless sway;
Yet Honour must that govern too:
And when thus Honour wins the Day,
Love overcomes the bravest way.