When breathing Statues mouldring waste away, And Tombs, unfaithful to their trust, decay; The Muse rewards the suff'ring Good with Fame, Or wakes the prosp'rous Villain into Shame; To the stern Tyrant gives fictitious Pow'r To reign the restless Monarch of an Hour.
Obedient to her Call, this Night appears Great Herod rising from a length of Years; A Name! enlarg'd with Titles not his own, Servile to mount, and savage on a Throne; Yet oft a Throne is dire Misfortune's Seat, A pompous Wretchedness, and Woe in State! But such the Curse that from Ambition springs, For this, he slaughter'd half a Race of Kings: But now reviving in the British Scene, He looks majestic with a milder Mien, His Features soften'd with the deep Distress Of Love, made greatly wretched by Excess: From Lust of Pow'r to jealous Fury tost, We see the Tyrant in the Lover lost.
O! Love, thou Source of mighty Joy or Woe! Thou softest Friend, or Man's most dang'rous Foe! Fantastic Pow'r! What Rage thy Darts inspire, When too much Beauty kindles too much Fire? Those Darts, to jealous Rage stern Herod drove, It was a Crime, but Crime of too much Love! Yet if condemn'd he falls—with pitying Eyes Behold his injur'd Mariamne rise! No fancy'd Tale! our op'ning Scenes disclose Historic Truth, and swell with real Woes. Awful in virtuous Grief the Queen appears, And strong the Eloquence of Royal Tears; By Woes ennobled, with majestic pace, She meets Misfortune, glorious in Disgrace!
Small is the Praise of Beauty, when it flies Fair Honour's Laws, at best but lovely Vice; Charms it like Venus with celestial Air? Ev'n Venus is but scandalously Fair; But when strict Honour with fair Features joins, Like Heat and Light, at once it warms and shines.
Then let her Fate your kind Attention raise, Whose perfect Charms, were but her second Praise; Beauty and Virtue your Protection claim, Give Tears to Beauty, give to Virtue Fame.
Endpiece from 'Poems on Several Occasions' by William Broome (1739, 2nd edition)
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