Page:Poetical Works of John Oldham.djvu/227

Virtue's the certain mark, by Heaven designed,
That's always stamped upon a noble mind.
If you from such illustrious worthies came,
By copying them your high extract proclaim;
Show us those generous heats of gallantry,
Which ages past did in those worthies see,
That zeal for honour, and that brave disdain,
Which scorned to do an action base or mean:
Do you apply your interest aright,
Not to oppress the poor with wrongful might?
Would you make conscience to pervert the laws,
Though bribed to do't, or urged by your own cause?
Dare you, when justly called, expend your blood
In service for your king's and country's good?
Can you in open field in armour sleep,
And there meet danger in the ghastliest shape?
By such illustrious marks as these, I find,
You're truly issued of a noble kind:
Then fetch your line from Albanact, or Knute,
Or, if these are too fresh, from older Brute;
At leisure search all history to find
Some great and glorious warrior to your mind;
Take Caesar, Alexander, which you please,
To be the mighty founder of your race:
In vain the world your parentage belie,
That was, or should have been, your pedigree.
But, though you could with ease derive your kin
From Hercules himself in a right line,
If yet there nothing in your actions be,
Worthy the name of your high progeny,
All these great ancestors, whom you disgrace,
Against you are a cloud of witnesses;
And all the lustre of their tarnished fame
Serves but to light and manifest your shame.
In vain you urge the merits of your race,
And boast that blood, which you yourself debase;
In vain you borrow, to adorn your name,
The spoils and plunder of another's fame,