worthy Princes! I do freely own
The Strength of  throughout the World is known;
The Force of  all Mortals know full well;
Yet neither of them doth in Might excel:
alone must bear the Prize away,
Whom all Mankind do honour and obey.
And well they may, because from them do spring
The Poor and Rich, the Peasant and the King;
The greatest Heroes that the World can know,
To  their Original must owe;
They nourish those that plant the fruitful Vine,
From whence you vainly boast the Pow'r of :
The Glory and the Praise of Men they are,
And make the Garment which they daily wear:
Nay, without , Men can't be at all,
But soon the Species would to Ruin fall.
When Men have gather'd Gold, and Treasures great
Of precious Things, and live in Pomp and State,
No true Content their captive Hearts attain,
Unless they can a  Favour gain;
Her Beauty to adore they are inclin'd,
Her noble Virtue does attract the Mind,
With Gold and Silver they will freely part,
To gain admission to a  Heart;
Her rare Perfections are so much admir'd,
Nought in the World can be like her desir'd;
For if his native Country lay at Stake,
The Husband quits it for his Spouse's Sake;
His Parents, Friends, and Kindred he doth leave;
Unto his Wife alone his Heart doth cleave:
Nought comes amiss, he's happy if he find
A Consort virtuous, loving, fair, and kind;
A willing Homage he to her doth pay;
In Toil and Labour hard he spends the Day,
To gather Wealth, that so he may provide
Treasure to bring unto his dearest Bride:
Another boldly, with a Sword in Hand,
Will cross the Seas, and wander on the Land;
No horrid Dangers can procure his Stay,
He bravely dares a Lyon in the Way;
Laden with Booty to his Mistress flies,
And at her Feet presents the golden Prize.
Some Men, for love of , oft we see
Have been reduc'd to utmost Misery,
And lost their Senses, if they chanc'd to find
A beauteous  cruel and unkind.
How oft have wretched Mortals been misled,
With murd'rous Hands their Rival's Blood to shed?
While some as desp'rately have sought for Death,
And by Self-Murder stopt their vital Breath!
The  is strong, no People can deny
The Honours due to sovereign Majesty:
All stand in fear of him; his Pow'r is such,
'Tis Death to strike, no less than Death to touch.
This mighty Monarch I did lately spy
In's Chair of State, fair  sitting by;
At his Right Hand this youthful Beauty bright,
Appear'd like  glitt'ring Rays of Light;
Altho he did the  Scepter sway,
This blooming Lady took his Crown away;
The Diadem that on his Head was worn,
Her lovely Brows and Temples did adorn;
Nay furthermore, when she had done this Thing,
With her Left Hand she struck this puissant King;
Yet no Displeasure did in him arise,
Who was Captive to her conqu'ring Eyes:
Her radiant Beauty did such Beams display,
From her he could not turn his Eyes away:
If this illustrious  deign'd to smile,
Oe'rcome with Joy, the  would laugh the while;
If ought displeas'd her, then the  would try
With gentle Words the  to pacify.
What mortal Strength with  can compare,
Since crowned Heads to them obedient are?