Just and fit actions, Ptolemey (he saith) Make many, hurt themselves; a praised faith Is her own scourge, when it sustains their states Whom fortune hath depressed; come near the fates And the immortal gods; love only those Whom thou see'st happy; wretches flee as foes: Look how the stars from earth, or seas from flames Are distant, so is profit from just aims. The main command of sceptres, soon doth perish If it begin religious thoughts to cherish; Whole armies fall swayed by those nice respects. It is a licence to do ill, protects Even states most hated, when no laws resist The sword, but that it acteth what it list. Yet ware: thou may'st do all things cruelly: Not safe; but when thou dost them thoroughly: He that will honest be, may quit the court, Virtue and sovereignty, they not consort. That prince that shames a tyrant's name to bear, Shall never dare do anything but fear. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO COLIN CLOUT by ANTHONY MUNDAY THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE AT [OR AFTER] CORUNNA by CHARLES WOLFE ROMEO AND JULIET by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH WRESTLING by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 14 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |