To my Friend Mr. S. L. ON HIS Receiving the Name of Little Tom King

FEar not, dear Friend, the less'ning of thy Fame,
Because here's Little fix'd upon thy Name;
Thy matchless Worth, alas, is too well known,
To suffer damage by detraction.
Nor can the Splendour of thy glorious Rays
Gain Augmentation by our worthless praise;
But as the faithfull Diamonds luster's shown,
Whether set on Foils, or in the Fire thrown;
So art thou Little King, whose Worth cross Fate,
By no Vicissitude can vitiate:
So sweet thy Humour, so genteel thy Mien;
So wise thy Actions, all thy Thoughts serene;
That Envies self, who do's all praise regret,
Must own in thee Virtue and Wisdom's met;
For were't thou really such as is thy Name,
I'm sure thy Wisdom wou'd adorn the same;
And to the silly World it shou'd be shown,
That Virtue cou'd add Splendour to a Throne.